Chapter Text
Space. You've always been interested. particularly in spaceships. Youve always been fascinated, transfixed. how did they work? what did It take to build one? could you change the concept of impossibility that surrounded space exploration? this mindset of yours is what secured you a job at NASA, the hub of earth and space and everything in between.
for the fourth time today, you have pushed a lock of frizzy and unruly hair out of your forehead, attempting to blow it away. to no avail. you'd think that brushing it back and trapping it under your sunglasses would work, but you guessed not. the blue light of the computer before you stained your face as you reviewed and refined a blueprint for the Orion spacecraft. your head spun, knowing that you were lucky enough to chip in for this once in a lifetime project.
not only did you get to work on this, but it was also for your biggest inspiration. Christina Koch. you weren't the most social person ever, always sticking your nose in a screen or a test project, surrounded by your intense love for your job. but you had seen Christina from time to time, from afar, of course. she was always so awesome, and she had an air about her. confidence. she deserved it, with her accomplishments. You sighed, nearly a little too dreamily as you thought about the woman. Christina was everything you ever wanted to be... and that couldn't help but evoke a little obsession.
you pushed your glasses up the bridge of your nose like the fucking nerd that you are and glanced from side to side not-so-subtly, paranoid that someone may have heard you sigh like that. unfortunately, someone did. a hand placed itself on your shoulder, and you nearly screamed as you jolted in your seat and slammed your palm on the desk. narrowly missing the keyboard. your feet scooted on the floor as you turned around slowly in your chair, gripping the armrests as if you had just felt your soul leave your body. it basically did.
standing behind you was Joel! Joel from... erm... from somewhere. he looked equal parts concerned and bemused, holding an empty milkshake cup in his hand.
"Morgan... if you're wearing two sets of glasses and sighing to yourself, I think you should take a break."
Joel suggested, and you fidgeted with your sleeve
"...please don't tell me you heard that."
"Okay, then I won't tell you."
you sighed, tipping your head back as you swiveled idly in your chair.
"I suppose I could go for a drink."
"Perfect. I'll take over then."
Joel smiled, immediately sliding down into your chair before you even fully stood up. okay then...
your shoes scuffed themselves on the polished tiles of the hall as you stuffed your hands into the pockets of your pants. the NASA dress code was business casual, but there was nothing business about your attire. your pants, once a nice navy, were smudged with soot and oil from working on aircrafts earlier in the week. your stupid Hawaiian button up shirt was open with a long-sleeved tee underneath, baggy. you were a mess, but a mad genius of a mess.
so, you trudged down the bustling hallway of the third floor, sidestepping coworkers with their hands filled with files up to their chins. it was a busy day.
the cafe was surprisingly not so busy, you guessed it was because everyone else had better things to do than sit around and dawdle. but it seemed like you had all the time in the world. Joel had looked eager to work on the blueprints.
Wait... was his name Joel? I could have sworn it started with an H... I guess Howard it is.
you blabbed your order to the cashier at the counter. a large black coffee, steaming hot with a cup of water on the side and a blueberry muffin. this was your usual, but you never bothered to eat at the cafe often enough for your order to stick. the seats at the cafe were so soft and plush, it felt like you were sitting on a cloud, rather than a hard slab of plastic that made your tailbone ache.
As you sunk into the cushioned couch and reached for the comfort of your phone in your hand, a group of groaning individuals drifted by. Well, one groaning individual. The rest were laughing at him. You noticed the familiar short brown hair and tall stature of Reid wiseman, a man you have collaborated with many times over the course of your career. He was pleasant to be around, funny also. You raised a hand to the complaining naval aviator to wave absentmindedly as your order was called out. Reid caught the motion from the corner of his eye and paused his whining to turn and smile at you, reaching up to tap his forehead before turning back to his companions, which also spared you a glance.
You touched your forehead and noticed that your sunglasses still rested atop the crown of your head, you almost pulled them out before remembering it was the only thing keeping your curly mane of black and grey streaked locks from completely blocking your view. You must look crazy, wearing both sunglasses AND reading glasses. Your order was called out yet again, and you eyes snapped from Reid and his clique to the cashier who was dubiously holding your large black coffee, her hand sweating from the heat radiating off it. You quickly rose, jogging to the counter to retrieve your food and drink, holding the container with the muffin under your arm while the two drinks occupied your hands. Greedily sipping your bitter beverage like your life depended on it, you didn’t even reach the door before your shoulder was tapped yet again and you had to physically refrain from dropping your cups out of pure surprise. Turning around for the second time today, you were met with not Howard, but the woman you idolised so. Christina Koch. You almost died on the spot.
The woman smiled down at you, friendly and genuine as she held out your own phone towards you. Shit, you must’ve forgotten it in the rush to retrieve your ‘lunch’.
“I believe this is yours? You left it on the table over there. Wouldn’t want you to lose it.”
Christina nodded over to your previous table, and you couldn’t help but blink once. Twice. Three times, your eyes wide as saucers as the caffeine kick caused your brain to buffer. Christina Koch. THE Christina Koch was voluntarily talking, interacting with you. The mess of a mad genius. As you liked to call yourself.
“Ah- yes, that is mine. Thanks.”
You spoke fast, taking your device between two fingers.
“I saw you wave to Reid back there. You two know each other?”
“Mmmh, I suppose so. We’ve worked together a lot.”
I have so many questions for you… but I can’t seem to get my mouth to co-operate.
You bit the inside of your cheek, nodding along to the small talk Christina attempted to strike up. How were you to respond to your idol? You had fantasised about this very moment, even had a mental list of all the things you wanted to talk about with Christina, but that all seemed to go out the window the moment her eyes landed on you. It was like everything else fell away.
“Christina!”
A voice called. There it was. The break in the trance. Both of you swivelled your heads to see Victor glover waving to Christina, already seated at a table for four. That’s right, she was not here alone. Much to your disappointment.
“I’ll see you around, then.”
You lifted your hand in another half wave as Christina jogged back to where Victor had called her, a little stunned at the interaction. And then probably the most Parasocial thought floated through your mind.
Christina Koch just talked to me. I have to die now.
The rest of your stunned thoughts were interrupted by the annoying screech of your phone as it lit up and buzzed in your hand. you almost dropped it and your drinks together, bouncing it between your hands like you were playing hot potato before finally managing to press ‘accept call’ and settle it between your shoulder and your ear.
“Howard?”
You questioned, hearing breathing on the other end of the line.
“Who?”
“What do you want Howard?”
“…my name is Joel, Morgan.”
“Whatever.”
You replied impatiently, tipping your head back to take another sip of your now cold black coffee as you finally left the cafe, heart still racing.
“Anyways. So I accidentally saved and exited every tab on your computer.”
“What.”
“It’s not my fault you set it up in the most unorganised way possible!”
And suddenly, you could practically feel more hair greying at your roots.