The Idol that doesn't exist

As we leave the station and finally enter the Sun District, my eyes are greeted by bright rays of sunlight. Light brown stones pave the sidewalk and narrow streetcar tracks divide the pedestrian area into two halves.

This shopping street is not only popular for its numerous stores and stands, but also for its impressive buildings that tower high into the sky; vines with deep green leaves adorn their facades and the trees and shrubs on their roofs protect visitors from the sun's rays.

Well, almost all visitors. Between the gaps in the canopy, a ray of sunlight has of course managed to hit my eyes. Perplexed, I turn my gaze to the ground and try to regain my vision as quickly as possible - I don't want to lose sight of Silvia.

But I realize that I don't have to worry about her:

Speechless, she stands at the exit of the station, blocking the way for others. Her eyes are wide open and it seems as if a childlike fascination is shining in them.

“So pretty.” are the only words uttered by the otherwise talkative lady.

There are many such green streets in New Apollondon, but none are as lovely as the Sun Shopping Street and Silvia is now experiencing this first-hand.

“Come on, let's keep walking.”
I say to Silvia and gently tap her shoulder.

“Huh? Y-yes, of course.”
Silvia's gaze turns away from the scenery.

“Oh!”

Only now does she notice the other commuters trying to get past her as she blocks the exit of the subway station. With two elegant leaps, she moves away from the crowd at the stairs. It's a miracle she doesn't twist her ankle in those heels..

As already discussed on our trip to the surface, her hotel is our first stop. It is located on the Sun Shopping Street and is only a few minutes away from my apartment, as I live in the Sun District myself. As I normally work from home, this short distance is a nice convenience for my new working day. I have to admit that I prefer sitting at home rather than forcing myself out of the house dressed and made up every morning...

We stroll down the street with Silvia. The weather is incredibly nice: warm, but not too warm. You know, not the kind of heat that makes you sweat after a few minutes. This is largely thanks to the vegetation. Their shade protects us from the direct sunlight - at least most of the time.

If I wasn't on duty, I would happily enjoy this ambience. I would simply trot slowly down the pedestrian zone without thinking about time or a destination. These are moments where you really live in the present, where the past and future don't seem to exist.

Unfortunately, I don't have time for light-heartedness at the moment: partly because of Silvia and partly because of all the stares. Both men and women are constantly glancing at us as they walk past. Some only briefly, others long and conspicuously.

Objectively speaking, I couldn't name the exact reason for that. I'm just wearing my uniform and that naturally attracts attention. It doesn't matter whether you're an honest citizen or not: the sight of police officers always makes you sit up and take notice. My little belt pouch seems to arouse the most curiosity. Civilians probably think I've got a gun in there, even though it's far too small for that.

On the other hand, we have Silvia. I'll be honest: New Appollodon has no shortage of attractive women and men, but this silver-haired lady seems to be particularly attractive to people. Her eye-catching clothing style certainly makes a big contribution, no question. The eyes of passers-by very obviously wander over Silvia's body, as if they want to scan her.

Of course, Silvia herself doesn't fail to notice. For me, stares are always a cause for concern, but Silvia seems to enjoy the attention. She repeatedly smiles at the gawking crowd and occasionally waves to them. Some react with embarrassment, others just throw back contemptuous glances.

But after a while, Silvia's reactions stop and at some point she finally comes to a halt: As with the screen in the elevator, her gaze is now glued to a small billboard that can occasionally be found on the side of the road. Euphemia can be seen advertising a new drink. Lots of nutrients, few calories for a low price. Just typical marketing stuff - some things don't change even in a thousand years.

Allow me to mention that Euphemia is the number one idol. Without a doubt, she steals the hearts of the citizens of New Apollondon with her green, curly hair, curvy body and sweet, bright smile. I'm personally not a huge fan of hers, but I appreciate that she seems to make those around me happy - and Silvia seems to be one of them.

“W-who's that?” Silvia asks with unusual reserve.

“Euphemia? She's an idol. Probably the most famous person in town.”

“She's really pretty.”

“Huh.”

I don't really know how to answer that. Of course, it's normal for women to give each other compliments, but Silvia's comments are more like those of a guy who's just had a crush.

“Does she look familiar to you?” I ask hesitantly.

If Euphemia is stirring up old memories of Silvia, I will have to expect a stronger reaction from her side.

Silvia watches as the green-haired lady sips the concoction from the can.

“Nope, it doesn't tell me anything...” she replies.

Suddenly Silvia turns to me. With her hands on her chest, she beams at me with a wide grin and shining eyes:

“But tell me, can I meet her sometime? I mean that Euphemia.”

I raise an eyebrow questioningly:
“Hardly.” I reply to her terribly naïve and stupid question.

“Come on! She's certainly going to sign autographs or something at some point. Maybe at a live performance.”
She puffed up her face in offense.

Now I get it. I'd like to laugh, but that would come across as very disrespectful. I try to explain it to her gently:

“No, it's not possible. From a purely physical point of view.”

“Huh? Physically? What?”

“Euphemia, the idol, doesn't really exist.”

Silvia points to the screen:

“I can see her here. Do you think I'm stupid?”

“N-no, not at all.”
Her angry look scares me a little:
“But she's a creation of Giftear, of the Bacchus Synapse, to be precise. She doesn't have a physical body.”

Silvia moves so close to the screen that her nose almost touches the surface. Raising her eyebrows, she scratches her chin.

“So... she's been generated by an A.I.? She seems so real and vivid.”

Just calling Giftear “an A.I.” is weird enough, but the true extent of her amnesia baffles me more.

“I mean, except for the news, you'll never get to see a real person in the media either.”

Silvia looks at me with a shocked expression, as if she were a time traveler from the past:

“B-but what about actors?”

“They haven't existed for hundreds of years.”

“Singers?”

“Neither have they.”

“Reporters, artists or writers?”

I tilt my head to the side as I listen to their confused chatter. I think I know what's going on now:

“Silvia, I don't want to confuse you further, but I think your memories have gotten a little mixed up. You probably know the professions you're talking about from your history lessons at school. You know, people haven't worked in those fields for hundreds of years. Generating entertainment media is left to Giftear. I guess because it saves a lot of time and money...”

Maybe I said too much.
Maybe I conveyed it wrong.
In any case, Silvia remains silent. Her blank look reveals that she has to process all this first. Her smile has disappeared completely.

Finally, she embarrassedly scratches her ear and lets out a soft giggle:

“Hehe. Oh dear, how embarrassing. I must have a lot of catching up to do...”

Again, I don't really know how to answer. All I know is that it's the first time I've seen sincere seriousness on her face. All this time I've been thinking about how pretty she is and the warmth she radiates. Only now do I realize the sorrow that must be tugging at her.

The sight of her makes my heart feel heavy.