Page 35 of I Fell for an Alien Popstar

“She always worries,” I said. “It’s overbearing. I’m almost thirty. I need to think and do things for myself.”

Zhari gave me a soft smile and shrugged.

“You will have to sooner rather than later, Vada.”

I hated to admit it, but I knew she was right.

The elevator doors opened onto the private dock where the loading bay for the tour ship was.

I stopped just inside the doorway and stared.

“Oh my database,” I whispered. I looked at Zhari and pointed at the ship. “This—this is what we’ll be living in for the next two weeks?” I gasped.

Zhari laughed and grabbed my hand.

“You are so funny, my little noodle. Wait until you see inside.” She flashed a wink and started walking across the ramp.

It looked like a regular tour bus from the movies, but it was covered in a glittery holographic shimmer that shifted between purple and pink in the light. A giant photo of Zhari’s face and logo stretched across one side like a moving banner.

Panels glistened beneath the dock lights, almost too shiny, throwing little rainbow streaks onto the ground. The crew and bots moved along the ramp, loading cases, shouting, and laughing. Somewhere, someone’s drumsticks rattled out a quick, impatient rhythm.

Sira stood at the base of the ramp, her wristband projecting a muted stream of headlines only she could fully see. As we approached, a thumbnail flared larger: a grainy zoom of me and Zhari on the loading dock, her head tipped onto my shoulder and my hand in her hair.

Underneath, the caption read, you guessed it, Who is Zhari's Human?

My stomach dropped.

“When did they even take that? Where were they?”

“Paparazzi are everywhere,” Sira said, not looking up. Another notification flickered in the corner of the holo. “Trending across three systems. The clock’s ticking.”

She tapped her wrist comm and motioned for us to cross the ramp.

“This is so crazy,” I whispered, half to myself.

“Crazy can be fun,” Zhari said quietly.

She held out her hand.

“Everything will be fine. This is going to be fun.”

I looked at the ship, at her, and at my shaky reflection in the polished hull. My life back on Earth felt like a file I’d minimized instead of closed.

Slowly, I put my hand in hers.

Her grip tightened, steady as gravity.

Together, with my mother’s unanswered nagging messages burning in my pocket and the new circulating headline echoing in the back of my skull, we stepped onto the ramp and into whatever came next.

The ramp sealed behind us with a loud click, and my sense of down lurched sideways before remembering where it was supposed to be.

The air inside was cooler, crisp against my skin. A pale blue glow threaded along the floor in clean, unbroken lines, guiding us forward.

I’d ridden shuttles around Earth before. Transit ferries. Commuter pods. Those were just buses with delusions of grandeur.

This thing felt like a whole city that had decided it was tired of staying put and had started walking. I didn’t even know these existed on the ground.

“Welcome to Lumara Arc,” a calm voice said from somewhere overhead. My translator rendered it in neutral English. “New passenger detected. Human. Such finicky creatures. Frail and feeble.”