As I wrapped up my class assignment on the laptop, the monolith
suddenly appeared in my room. I shut my laptop and got to my feet. I was dressed
in jeans and a black-and-white striped blouse; my white Vans sneakers completed
the look. Mr. Smith walked out of the monolith. I inhaled deeply and
smiled.
“How have you been, my Remi?” he asked, stepping
closer and enveloping me in a warm hug.
“He said my Remi,” I mused. I instinctively wrapped my arms around his
neck.
I said with a grin, “I’ve really missed you.”
He smiled back and asked, “How about a trip to 1989?”
I thought for a moment and replied, “Are we planning to swipe something while
we’re there?”
“Why do you
assume that’s my only plan? Sometimes I just want to enjoy a getaway with my
beautiful girl,” he said, leaning in to give me a deep kiss. I looked up at his
angelic face, eager to travel again.
“Okay, let’s go,” I said. He chuckled and said, “We’ll
go as soon as we’re dressed for the era.” We embraced the fashion of the late
1980s. He wore a classic tie-dyed t-shirt under a brown leather jacket,
complemented by classic 501 jeans, a matching brown leather belt, and Nike
sneakers. His hairstyle was a perfect nod to the iconic late 80s look. I chose
a white top with a denim jacket and straight-leg jeans, completing my outfit
with white high-top Reebok sneakers.
The AI gave my hair a fabulous 80s makeover. I adorned myself with bold, gold dangling earrings—an
unusual choice for me, but Mr. Smith insisted we should blend in. I recalled
Melanie's words: “Who
cares?” A smile crept onto my face at the memory.
“Are you
ready?” he asked, and I nodded in response as we stepped out of the monolith
hand in hand. We found ourselves in a park bustling with life;
children playing while their parents kept a watchful eye. It felt surreal to be
in 1989, knowing my mom was just 11 years old at this moment. We hopped into a
taxi to explore the Heritage Museum of the O.C., followed by a visit to a
nearby indoor mall.
As we
strolled through the shops, I spotted a woman with striking red hair. She kind
of looked a little bit like Tracy. As she approached, our eyes locked in a
moment. Then it hit me, “Is she Tracy’s daughter?” I mused. Tracy
doesn’t live in the O.C. unless she did but later moved. As we walked past her,
a soft smile shadowed her face. She gave me a nod then walked past us. Mr.
Smith paid no attention to our unspoken interaction; in fact, his mind was
preoccupied with other things.
We took a bus
to a nice hotel called the Hyatt; we checked in. The room was
nice, clean, and comfy. “This hotel has a nice little restaurant downstairs;
would you like to go?” he asked me, as he wrapped his arms around my slender
waist holding me close.
“Okay,” I
said, looking into his eyes, amorously. The monolith appeared in our room and Mr.
Smith put the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the doorknob outside, then we
went into the monolith. “Remi, we have plenty of time before dinner is served.
What do you feel like doing?” he asked, with a wink of his eye. He removed his jacket
and casually threw it onto a black chair beside one of the consoles in the
control room.
“I'm not sure,
what do you feel like doing?” I teased playfully with a sly smile.
"You know my favorite thing, or should I say my
absolute favorite thing," he replied with a cheeky grin, as he shifted the
crystals around on the matrix table. He glanced back at me, a playful smile on
his face.
"Again?
You want to have sex again?" I asked, a bit timidly with a giggle.
"Why
not?" he shot back. "Don't you want to be with me?"
"I do, but…"
“But what? Are
you being shy?” he asked. I playfully laughed.
“Ah, I get it, you’re just messing with me,”
he said with a playful click of his tongue and a cheeky grin as he strolled
over, scooped me up, and tossed me over his shoulder. He gave my backside a
couple of playful smacks.
“Mr. Smith, I can walk on my own, please put me
down.”
“You’re such a
naughty girl,” he replied, carrying me down the hallway into one of the living
rooms of the monolith.
(They have an
intimate moment)
We nestled beside one another,
his warm embrace enveloping me. “Are you alright? You’ve been so quiet,” he
murmured.
“I’m fine,” I replied, turning
to meet his gaze. “I adore every curve of your body,” he whispered, pulling me
closer as his fingers traced the contours of my hips. “Remi, will you still
love me if I change?” A moment of hesitation lingered in the air, my heart
racing at the weight of his question. I looked into his eyes and said, “I will always love you. Stop
talking like that; I doubt you'll be changing anytime soon," I told him,
attempting to persuade him, though I realized it was more for my own sake than
his.
He replied with conviction, “And I will
always find you, regardless of the distance between us. You are the one I want
by my side.” As he kissed me, a thought crossed my mind: I should have
understood that change was inevitable for him, and it would come swiftly and
harshly.
Deep down, I believe he has a new body ready
for him, one he’ll resort to if he gets seriously hurt beyond the AI's help.
The AI is correct; eventually, he would have to let go of the body he’s in, if
it came down to it.
(Images are for the readers entertainment)
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Excerpt from Part 4 Chapter 31
