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Techno leaned against the rail of his balcony. The rusted metal dug into the skin of his forearm, the chill of the night adding an unexpected bite of cold.
Exhaling, his breath fogged in the air, winding into nothing against the dark sky. As far as Techno could see, the world was dark around him. He lived on the sixth floor of a stooping, practically ancient apartment building, and ever since the world had gone dark, none of the lights had worked and so he simply had to hope the light from the moon was enough to stop him from misstepping and accidentally plummeting off of his balcony.
He lived far, far away from anything and everyone. When the apocalypse had started, the end of everything brought on by earthquakes and lakes of fire and tectonic collisions and whatnot, the peninsula on which he lived had been cracked off from the continent.
Over the years, oceans and ancient floodwaters had filled the gap and his town had only drifted further and further from the mainland. Now, all he could see were the blinking lights of the country he used to be a part of, hundreds of kilometers away.
So it was dark. The sky was inky and so was the sea, and the lack of electricity meant an endless, plunging world of abyss once the sun set. His community had come together; though the world had fallen into disarray, they managed to rally and hold candlelit nighttime festivals or lantern-glow gatherings and use their time in the dark to reflect.
Not Techno, though. Nighttime for him meant solitude, his balcony, and something worth staying awake for. He pushed himself off of the iron rail and reached for the mug on his deck table. The ceramic was so hot his fingers buzzed as they laced around his midnight coffee. Goosebumps rose on his neck and he drew his pink cardigan closer around his shoulders.
During the day, Techno worked tirelessly with anyone willing and able to brave the forests, treacherous, poisoned with toxic rain from years gone by. Every day they preserved growth that his people would need for future seasons while harvesting and foraging for his community. He rarely spoke. At night, sleep never came, but that was okay. He liked the moon’s company well enough that sleeping was hardly necessary.
Besides, he spent so much time alongside people that being alone was basically a luxury. While his community had grown closer and closer, Techno had begun to drift away.
Deep breath in, deep breath out. Look at the stars. Listen to the ocean. Breathe in, breathe out. This solitude was so gentle, so rare- what was that?
The sound of a sliding glass door gently creaking open, just off to Techno’s left, where the balcony for his sixth-floor neighbour was. Whatever. Ignore it. Probably another reflective, quiet soul looking for a moment of peace.
“Hi!”
Techno’s head whipped to the left. Who could possibly want to speak to him at this hour?
There, he saw, silhouetted against the moon and an odd, pearly shape against the dark sky, a neighbour on his respective balcony.
“Helloo?” Techno said, immediately embarrassed by how gravelly and unacclimated his voice sounded.
“Are you drinking… coffee? At midnight?” the neighbour asked, not unkindly. As the neighbour shifted his position, the silvery light caught strands of short blond hair.
“It’s the perfect drink,” Techno said. “Keeps me warm. Tastes good.”
“How’d you even get coffee, all the way out here?”
“I had some left from… before. An’ it’ll go bad if I don’t use it in the next few months.”
“I’d be happy to take some off your hands, if you’re soo worried about using it all up before it goes bad.” The neighbour said, and Techno could hear him smiling. The sort of smile that your dad might use, if he was teasing you. The sort of smile that said I’m a human, and you’re a human, and we both live in this shitty world together so we might as well make light of it.
Or maybe Techno was reading too much into a smile that might not have even been there. He couldn’t see his neighbour's face, after all.
“How charitable of ya,” Techno said, sharing the same smile right back. “Luckily for you, I’m a good samaritan. I’ve got more coffee in the pot if you’d like some,”
“Is coffee at midnight really such a good idea?” The neighbour replied.
“It’s not like we’re doing much sleepin’ to begin with,”
“No, indeed. I don’t think anyone really sleeps anymore.” The neighbour barked a dry laugh. “I’d love some.”
“I’ll be right back.”
Techno turned on his heel, prying his sliding glass door open and letting the brisk air flood his small apartment. The moka pot which hung above his wood-fire stove clanked and rattled as it cooled, and Techno poured the dark coffee into a mug. It’d been a while since he’d used one of the other mugs in his apartment. It was usually just him and his favourite pink ceramic cup, but now the matching green one had made its way down from the shelf.
Techno slid back onto his balcony, careful not to spill the hot drink in the darkness. His neighbour was still there, and maybe Techno was crazy, but he felt like the neighbour brightened a little once Techno returned.
“I’m gonna hand this to ya real slowly,” Techno warned, reaching his hand across the thirty-centimetre gap between their balconies. Like some strange metaphor on the tip of Techno’s tongue, his neighbour’s hand reached back through the nighttime air, taking the offered cup.
“Cheers to being awake,” his neighbour said. It took two attempts for them to successfully knock their glasses together. When they drank, Techno’s new companion sputtered a laugh.
“Black coffee,” he managed. “My favourite.”
“It’s not like we have milk,” Techno said, wryly.
“No, indeed.” The neighbour said again. There was a long moment of silence. Techno, oddly, missed their chatter. A gentle wind brushed through his hair, fluttering through his fingers like breaths of winter gracing his palm. He was strangely glad when his neighbour spoke again.
“What keeps you awake?” He asked. “For me, it’s the heat. Nights like this are so fuckin’ rare. The breeze is what brought me out here, actually. But normally, its so hot outside that my apartment becomes a boiler and I sweat myself awake.”
“Right? Our apartments are so shittily ventilated,” Techno rumbled in agreement. “But for me… I dunno. I just cannot sleep for dreamin’,” Techno said, closing his eyes. His neighbour didn’t speak for a long moment.
“Is that a reference to The Crucible?” his neighbour finally asked, drumming his fingers on the balcony rail, leaning back and tilting his head up to the sky. Techno laughed, which, again, embarrassingly was a bit painful. He hadn’t laughed in a while.
“Yeah. You’ve gotta be a real nerd to have gotten that,”
“And you’re the realer nerd for saying it in the first place.”
,”I dunno about that. I think I just paid attention in high school.”
“Nerd behaviour,” The neighbour said, in a sing-songy way. “Prove me wrong. Say something cool right now.”
Techno pressed out a thin laugh. He let his mind search for something cool to say. He took a sip of coffee, in what he hoped was a cool sort of way, to buy himself time.
“Tu… tubular, dude,” he managed, like an absolute loser. He’d somehow achieved the worst of both worlds. His mind’s idea of cool slang was outdated by about fifty years and he’d said it in the least convincing manner.
His neighbour absolutely lost it laughing. Doubling over, he cackled into his coffee, wheezing.
“Hey, dude, it’s not that funny-”
“TUBULAR! Did you seriously say that? Are you kidding?” his neighbour started laughing again, dissolving into giggles.
“Okay, well-”
For the second time that night, Techno was interrupted by the sound of another sliding glass door. This time, from above.
“Can you guys shut the fuck up? It’s the middle of the night,” a young voice snapped.
“Hello to you too,” Techno called drily.
“You’re laughing suuuper fucking loudly,” the upstairs neighbour, who Techno decided to simply call Upstairs, said.
“Sorry,” Techno’s companion wheezed. “We’ll be quiet.”
There was a long pause.
“... well, go on then. I’m, uh, curious. What were you laughing about?” Upstairs said, his voice putting on an air of disdain that he didn’t actually seem to mean.
“No, no. Clearly it’s somethin’ too disruptive for you to hear about. We’ll be quiet,” Techno said, biting back a teasing laugh.
“Oh, come on,” Upstairs whined. “You’re being a jerk. Just tell me what you’re laughing about and then shut up.”
“We’re laughing at him being a loser,” The next door neighbour said, fighting another wheeze.
“He sounds like a loser,” Upstairs said. “Fuck, it’s cold out here. I’m going inside. Bye,” he added, the sounds of his feet beginning to scuffle away.
“Wait,” Techno’s companion said. “You don’t want to stay and chat with us? Put on a sweater and come back. We’re having a lovely time.”
“Well…” Upstairs said. “Maybe. I’m super cool, you see, and I have a lot of super cool shit to do, but maybe if you losers need an awesome Big Man to come hang out with you, I could do some charity work.”
“See, he’s also charitable. We’re just a bunch of saints, us,” the next-door neighbour said. “It’s all full circle.”
“What?” Upstairs asked.
“Nothing. Go put on a sweater and come back.”
“Whatever, dad.”
“If you call me that, I’ll behave like one. Wouldn’t want to get grounded.”
“I’m too powerful and strong and cool to get grounded, nerd.”
“Don’t speak to your father like that,” Techno chimed in.
With a huff, Techno heard the squeak of sliding glass and Upstairs was gone.
“He seems like a sweet kid,” the next-door neighbour said. “I wonder if his parents know he’s up this late.”
“He didn’t sound that young,” Techno said. “Maybe just out of high school?”
“How would you know?”
“I’m twenty. He sounds close to my age. Maybe a bit immature.”
“You’re twenty? Holy shit, dude, you sound like Nick Cage! How come your voice is so deep? Do your parents know you’re up this late? God, I’m old,” the neighbour said, resting his hands on the railing of the balcony and leaning back, like he’d winded himself by speaking too fast.
“Maybe I am Nick Cage. You have no idea. An’, to be clear, I don’t live with my family. I moved out here to be closer to my university after I graduated, but now my university is…” Techno waved an absent hand toward the distant, blinking lights of what used to be the mainland. “Further away than ever. An’ I haven’t been able to get in contact with my family since.” Techno cleared his throat and tugged his cardigan tighter, suddenly uncomfortable. He sipped his coffee. A strange wave of longing he’d learned to ignore washed over him, and he tried to change the subject. “What about you? Have you got a family with ya?”
“My wife is asleep right now. But it’s just the two of us,” the neighbour said. “We’re very lucky to have each other. I don’t know how you could be alone in times like these.”
“I like being alone,” Techno said softly. He wrung his fingers together. He wasn’t sure why he was nervous. He did like being alone, right? Why did it feel like he was lying?
“Humans are social creatures. We don’t really like being alone. Some of us need to be alone to recharge, for sure, but connection is important.”
Techno didn’t say anything for a long pause. He drank his coffee. The moon had risen high enough to cast a sort of silvery film across the top of his mug. The moon had grown large and foreboding as the world had ended- some people thought that was the cause of all their problems, actually; as though the moon had somehow come too close, their planet’s nearest neighbour desperately inching closer through the void of space, setting of violent tides and endless earthquakes. Techno, oddly, felt bad for the moon, though that wasn’t a sentence he could say out loud without seeming utterly insane. It loomed above them, impossibly bright, and it seemed an awful shame to blame something so beautiful for something so tragic.
Thankfully, Techno didn’t have to say much else, because the squeak of sliding glass and the sound of footsteps padding onto a wooden balcony from above saved him from whatever embarrassing thing he might’ve attempted to say to break the silence.
“HELLO,” Upstairs called. “I hope you didn’t miss me too much.” The rattle of corrugated iron meant that Upstairs had either thrown himself against the railing or had… kicked it? Somehow, everything Upstairs did seemed to be in upper case.
“We were just dyin’ in your absence,” Techno deadpanned.
“How old are you?” Techno’s neighbour asked suddenly. “Are your parents letting you stay up this late?”
Upstairs huffed. “I’m eighteen. And I live with my friends. None of us have got parents,” he said. “And even if we DID, we’d still be awake because we’re BIG MEN who don’t listen to the rules,” he said, his air of bravado still betraying a hint of sadness.
“I see,” the next door neighbour said. “What’s your name?”
“Tommy. Big Man Tommy, if you will. And what's your name?” Tommy asked.
“I’m Phil.”
“And I’m Techno.”
“Hmm.”
Nobody seemed to know what to say after that. It was well past midnight, and none of them should’ve been awake, but they were, and nothing would change that anytime soon. Techno tipped his head upward to take in the night air. Deep breaths in, deep breaths out. The smell of sweetgrass lingered in the air, the ocean breeze carrying up and across Techno’s face. Looking up, the moon had drifted to the far side of the sky, no longer casting dramatic shadows, and had allowed for the millions of stars to begin to twinkle into view.
Techno had never really believed people when they said there were nights where stars clotted the sky enough to turn everything purple. He had seen pictures, but they always felt like dramatisations or too beautiful to be true. But in a world without electricity, the sky had filled with an improbable number of stars, sprayed across the sky like errant flicks from a paintbrush, shining in and out of view. They began to illuminate the sky around them, highlighting the ridges in the gentle, thin clouds which drifted far on the horizon, the Milky Way some incomprehensible distance away being washed in purples and blues.
“Do you guys ever think about the stars?” Techno asked. Tommy immediately burst out laughing.
“We’ve got the Philosopher King over here,” he snorted. “Thinking about the stars and shit.”
“I don’t think about them very much,” Phil admitted, graciously ignoring Tommy. “They’re just another part of the world, y’know? But I’d like to think of them as something special. Like, um, someone once told me that there are infinite stars because there are infinite paths in life. There are millions of possibilities, and millions of directions the stars could lead you. But most importantly, stars have always been used for navigation. To find your way home, really. So no matter where you go or what path you take, there’s always a star pointing back home in case you ever need to return.”
“Thats so deep and so true,” Tommy said, sarcasm dripping from his words. “Probably the realest shit I’ve heard all day. Wouldn’t that be nice, if you could always find your way home and be welcomed there? Sometimes the hardest part is fucking finding a home, not returning to one.”
“You said you live with your friends, right? Home doesn’t have to be a place. Home can be people you feel safe with, y’know,” Techno said, despite himself. He spent every day working quietly, putting his head down and allowing the world to wash over him. What right did he have to lecture Tommy about what home meant? Techno hadn’t felt like he was home in ages. His home wasn’t a person or a place. He didn’t even live with friends, like Tommy. He hardly felt like he was awake while his eyes were open, and he didn’t sleep for fear of nightmares, and he was beginning to realize that he’d only been alive until now and hadn’t really been living.
“That’s true. The three of us, we’re the musketeers. I’d probably be fine anywhere in the world as long as those two dumb fucks are with me.” Tommy sighed. Techno saw the whorls of white in the air where Tommy’s breath evidently fogged, only a few metres above. Somewhere below them, a seagull squawked indignantly. “Don’t you ever tell them I said that, by the way. I’d like to keep my stoic, mysterious-”
“You have never once in your life been stoic or mysterious,” a new voice, from above Techno, said. Tommy yelped, and the wooden balcony floor clomped as he evidently jumped in surprise. Techno hadn’t heard the sliding door open, but it seemed there was someone else on the balcony.
“Fuck, Ranboo, you scared the shit out of me,” Tommy hissed. “Why is- why are you both awake? How did you get out here?”
“We couldn’t sleep,” the first voice, seemingly Ranboo, said.
“You were being loud as fuuuuck,” The second voice, unfamiliar, said, as though they were translating what Ranboo really meant.
“You also left the door open,” Ranboo said.
“You let in all the cold air, bitch,” the second voice translated.
“Who are you talking to?” Ranboo asked.
Tommy sighed.
“Ranboo, Tubbo, meet our floor-below neighbours. That one is Phil and the one right below us is Techno.”
“Hey kings,” Tubbo chirped. “It’s fucking freezing out here,” he added, in the same upbeat voice.
“I don’t know if you all noticed, but it’s, like, really late,” Ranboo said.
“We know,” Phil said. “We’re just having a bit of a midnight chat. Care to join us?”
There was a beat of silence, and somehow Techno knew that the three above him were having some kind of silent conversation.
“Sure.” Ranboo said.
“We were just talking about the stars,” Phil said. “What do you think of them?”
“They’re pretty,” Tubbo said. “Good for telling stories. Who doesn’t love a fucked-up myth from the cosmos?”
Techno laughed.
“I don’t think there’s a single myth that isn’t, like, the most brutal story you’ve ever heard. In Indigenous storytelling, the big dipper is literally a bear being chased by seven birds who want to kill and then cook the bear for dinner.” He said, his eyes finding the big dipper, high in the sky, where it was shrouded in the masses of other stars glinting around it. “An’ then some of the same stars from that story are in the Andromeda constellation, which tells the story of a princess who literally got chained to a rock by her parents so she could be eaten by a sea monster,”
“Isn’t that uplifting,” Phil said with a laugh. “How come you know your myths so well?”
“I mean, I was in university for English and Classics before… everythin’,” Techno said, once again waving his hand flippantly at the ocean before them, which wasn’t supposed to be there, and the sky above them, which had never seemed so bright.
“Right,” Tubbo said. “So what do you do now? I can’t imagine the library is still functioning,” he said.
“Nahh,” Techno said. “I’m a forager, like pretty much everyone else. I’d love to do somethin’ with books, but those come second place when people are tryin’ not to let food supplies disappear.”
“We’ll get there someday,” Ranboo interjected. “Like, right now, the hunting and the foraging and the farming come first, but soon we’ll get back to our books and our museums. I mean, pretty much as soon as everything went dark, our entire town jumped right back into nighttime parties and storytelling and trying to be together as much as we can. So once we don’t need to worry about the food, we’ll need people like you. Librarians or writers or book-makers or whatever the hell we want.”
That was true. It wasn’t like the government had much control over their new island anymore, and so Techno could truly do whatever he wanted in life- in fact, Techno wasn’t sure there was government left anywhere else in the world.
“How very inspirin’,” Techno said. “I s’pose you’re right.”
“I’m just smart like that,” Ranboo said, a hint of a smile playing in their voice.
There was a beat of quiet. Techno sipped his coffee. He glanced sidelong at Phil, whose face was now illuminated by the changing angle of the moonlight. Blond hair rested above a face weathered not with age but with exhaustion. Techno supposed he himself probably had a similar look; everyone was tired. Everything about Phil was fraying and tattered- his sweater, his hair, the scars on his hands. Techno, again, couldn’t say he was much different. He was, however, realizing he might not like being alone as much as he thought. There was something about the way their voices carried across balconies that felt so natural, so comforting. Techno suddenly couldn’t remember why he’d avoided other people for so long. Why was it he was so committed to being alone?
“Would you all want to come down here an’ play cards or somethin’? If we’re not gonna sleep, we might as well get out of the cold,” he said, pinching his face with discomfort as his words betrayed his fear. He hadn’t had anyone else in his apartment in, quite literally, years.
“Sure, mate,” Phil said, amicably. “I’ve got some old chocolates I can bring.”
“I suppose..” Tommy said, his fingertips rattling on the railing giving away his poorly-concealed excitement. There was a thwack, and Tommy hissed. “Ow, Tubbo-”
“We’re coming,” Tubbo said definitively. “We’ll be down in a second.”
Their footsteps plodded off the balcony, and there was the squeak of their sliding glass door. Next to him, Techno could make out a grin on Phil’s face.
“I’ll bring your mug with me. See you in a second, Techno,” Phil said, before turning and disappearing back into the darkness of his apartment.
Techno took a breath. Inhaled the chilly air. Turning into his apartment, where the only light were the embers beneath his moka pot, he set down his mug. His apartment was small- the kitchen led to the balcony, and beyond that there was a small living room, which, much like the famous six-word story had never been used, and his room branching out to the side. Techno fumbled for a kitchen drawer, and drew out a matchbox and a pack of tea lights.
Without electricity, lanterns and candles covered just about every surface. Techno slowly, methodically began to light each lantern or set out a new tea light until his apartment was covered in small, glowing dots which set the walls awash in a warm orange glow.
Techno sat on his couch for what felt like the first time, fingers lacing again around his still-steaming mug, and waited for the strangers he’d met at midnight on his balcony to arrive.
Was he insane? Inviting strangers over? Or was this what everyone had rediscovered since the world began to end; knowing someone was only an end goal, a stage which began once again with the recognition of I’m a human, and you’re a human, and we both live in this shitty world together so we might as well make light of it. So it didn’t seem strange any more to want to reach out.
As Techno sat in his apartment, the one which had never been his home, the candles began to twinkle, and at once they were stars- hundreds of lights glowing, a path bringing in new people. The lights wound their way up the walls, casting shadows and drawing paths. Perhaps, Techno thought, recalling the sound of a friend beneath a sky of millions of lights- so similar to how the candles glinted in the midnight black- the stars truly had guided him home, and had brought him down a new path at the same time.
There was a knock at the door. Techno shook off his thoughts. There was coffee to be drunk and cards to be played, midnight conversations to be had.
“Coming,” Techno said, as he reached for the door of his apartment. For the first time in a long time, Techno opened the door and let someone in.
“Hello again,” Phil said, smiling. “It’s been a while.”
“Four million years since we last spoke,” Techno agreed, waving Phil in.
“It’s so late,” Phil said. “I kind of lost track of time.”
“We could call it a night,” Techno said. “If you need to sleep.”
“Nah,” Phil said. “If I’m not gonna sleep anyhow, I’d rather spend my time with a friend than alone in my apartment.”
“Yeah. The moon isn’t quite as talkative as I’d like,” Techno agreed.
“Well, get ready for three teenagers to come in. They’ll be plenty talkative,” Phil said with a laugh.
“This time,” Techno said, realizing he actually meant what he was about to say. “I truly don’t think I’ll mind the company. For once I actually don’t wish I was alone.”