I Feel Better Now

Some years later…

The backstage still hummed with the remnants of the performance. Lena sat in the shadows, perched on the edge of a low table, her legs swinging slightly, not from nervousness but from the comfort of being exactly where she wanted to be.

Her bioform—a perfect blend of organic realism and engineered precision—moved easily under her skin. The glow of her transhuman insignia pulsed faintly on her collarbone, the mark subtle but unignorable. 

A necessary beacon, dictated by the Great AIs. It reminded the world, even in moments like this, that she was something other. Mainly for subterfuge purposes, but symbolic as well. 

It didn’t bother her as much as it used to. Not tonight, anyway.

Life was good, regardless.

Just before the show she was attending was Kiko and Popo. The usual headliner suspects usually came with some variant of the Nippon Twins and Lena's mentee entourage. They had to quickly fly off to another performance, but not before exchanging some hugs and laughs.

They had taken a sharp turn in their career path, and it was paying off spectacularly. They had gracefully stepped away from the collective spotlight that emerged from the Starlight Resonance tour. As horrible as that event was, all eyes were on the roster that the tour inherited. And by God, if people didn't know who they were then, they knew now. 

Gone were the days of shared billing with the Starlight crew, or any other Idol for that matter. Now, they leaned into their duality—two sides of the same coin, mirrors that reflected and refracted each other in ways that captivated the Net. 

Their decision to separate from the "supergroup" label had been a gamble, but it turned out to be the exact move their brands needed.

The public adored them as twins. Kiko and Popo understood the art of subtlety—how to appear just connected enough to feed the fascination without crossing into overexposure.

Her mind soon wandered to herself, as it often did.

Astra is still alive and well, but not at her original capacity. People understood she needed a well-deserved break, after her fall. Still made songs (probably her best output yet, she might add), but the days of being an Idol might have been past her.

These days only albums get released, not concerts or huge events or whatnot.

Fine by her, on all accounts. Caden was right. The public were forgiving if you explained everything before you 'retired'. In fact, they may even revere you for it.

SWING!

The backstage door opened with a hiss of air, and Maya swept in first, her presence so magnetic it seemed to bend the room toward her. She was radiant, her blonde hair cascading down her back in sculpted waves, shimmering faintly with Net enhancements that caught and reflected the light. Her outfit was bold, gleaming with a futurist edge: metallic accents against soft textures, a statement that balanced daring and elegance.

She moved like someone who understood the weight of a billion adoring eyes but didn’t let it slow her down.

Behind her came Elise, quieter but no less commanding. She had embraced a gothic aesthetic since going solo, a shift that felt natural rather than manufactured. Her platinum hair, nearly white, fell in sharp layers that framed her face, contrasting with her dark, elaborate attire—lace and leather interwoven with holographic elements that shimmered faintly, like ghosts caught in the fabric. Her lips, painted black, curled into the faintest smile as her sharp eyes found Lena in the room.

“Still here? Sheesh.” Elise teased as she walked over, her boots clicking softly against the floor. Her voice was low, slightly raspy, but it carried a warmth that cut through her dramatic exterior.

Lena shrugged, letting a grin tug at her lips. “Someone’s got to keep the two of you in check.”

“That’s a full-time job,” Maya said with a laugh, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she plopped down beside Lena. “And admit it—you love watching us work.”

“She loves me more,” Elise countered, settling into a chair with the grace of someone who knew exactly how she looked in every pose. “Right, Lena?”

Lena rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “You’re both equally annoying.”

“I’m dreading tomorrow,” Maya muttered, arms crossed. “That stupid Orb. It’s fine at the farm—perfect, even—but anywhere else? It’s like I’m trying to sync through syrup.”

Elise perched on the edge of a chair, her gothic ensemble still immaculate despite the night’s chaos. She smirked, her pale hair catching the dim backstage lighting. “Oh, poor you. Forced to use advanced technology in subpar conditions. How do you cope?”

Maya shot her a look, sharp but not without affection. “As if a girl can't have flaws.”

“I don’t know,” Elise said, her smirk widening. “One of us had a significantly easier time in life than the rest.”

Lena tugged her hoodie low and couldn’t help but laugh. “Shame no one’s recording this. Your fans would eat this up. Flustered Maya is a rare commodity these days.”

“And then they’d buy your merch anyway,” Elise teased, standing with a languid stretch. “Face it, Maya, you’re too charming to fail—even when you’re whining.”

“You two suck,” Maya deadpanned.

Lena shook her head, still grinning. “You’ll survive. Just think of the farm waiting for you on the other side.”

Maya sighed, her shoulders loosening slightly. “Yeah. I just need to get through it. And maybe not murder anyone in the process.”

“Please don’t,” Elise said dryly. “I need you alive for the collab next week.”

\\

The journey was quick. The time to set up the function even quicker.

The Vermont night wrapped around them like a well-worn blanket, soft and full of the kind of quiet you only found in places where the stars had time to breathe. Inside Maya’s farmhouse, the air was warmer, alive with a different kind of stillness.

Maya stood at the center of the room, her golden hair glowing in the firelight as she raised her glass. 

“An anniversary,” she began, her voice rich with the weight of memory and mischief. “Since we met. Since we all somehow walked out of that mess of a scandal and lived to tell the tale—mostly in one piece.”

There was laughter, light and easy, but there was definitely an undertone of relief. 

Lena leaned back in her chair, the glow of the room reflecting faintly off the transhuman insignia on her collarbone. She couldn't stop grinning like an idiot.

“And now,” Maya continued, her grin widening, “Lena, we shall play you… a song.”

The gathered group broke into murmurs and soft laughter as Elise moved toward the piano. Her platinum hair shone stark against the dark wood of the instrument as she settled onto the bench, her fingers trailing across the keys like a whispered promise.

Lena blinked, caught off guard. “You’re playing for me?”

"No, we are playing for fun. Of course, we are. A cover, too. One of your oldies." Elise smirked, her lips painted black as always. “You’re surprised? Do you really think that lowly of us?”

"No, I just... you guys are so busy and got so much going on yourselves, and..."

"Lena. Be so for real with us right now," Maya exclaimed. "Just shut up and let us play. We love you. We'd rather die than prioritize work over a friend."

"So, you ready? You will never guess what it is."

They took Lena's stunned silence to go ahead.

The melody began, slow and aching. This one... she wrote sixty years ago. 

Voices soon joined in, guests and friends coming together and forming a circle. Warmth bloomed there, too much and just enough.

When it ended, no applause followed, only a gentle hum. Only the weight of all of their eyes, awaiting her verdict. Her approval. 

Lena didn’t sob. Why would she? How could she? She wasn’t physically capable.

Yet her expression had betrayed her anyway.