"How does my nose look? Is it straight?" Kel asked the mirror but wanted Gar to answer.Â
"It looks lined up to me," said Gar, "I don't know why you changed it. Your face was great this morning. You could've just left it—"
"—It's a special evening. I want to be delightful—different," interrupted Kel, widening her eyes, "This way, when everyone looks at us, they'll think, I've never seen them looking so good before! And they won't have, because I've changed it up —I'm brand new!"Â
"You're an enigma," said Gar, waving his palms in circles, teasing her.
She flung a glob of FleshMesh at him. It stuck to his brow and drooped down over his right eye like a flabby eyelid.
"Jeez, Kel, pass me the Neut. Now I've gotta pick this off without messing up the rest of my face—You know I don't like modeling. You're gonna have to help me fix it.
"If I have time," said Kel teasing back.
Originally designed to foil facial recognition, face-shaping products quickly pivoted to the fashion and entertainment world. Kel and Gar, like many people, used them daily, sometimes just to hide blemishes or more egregious malformations like scars and asymmetrical misalignments. It was routine. More than cosmetic, it was a way of exercising more control over how the world perceived you. Most people accepted it as a legitimate form of self-expression, an extension of fit and fashion. Perhaps even art.
Critics of Flexthetics called it vapid and vain—even dangerous. It obscured the very idea of identity. And not just physically, it created unnecessary and unwanted social pressures and psychological maladjustments. Some called for regulation, others abolition, but so far, the Flexthetics industry was undeterred. Why limit creativity? they said. Be You By You, as the saying goes.
Kel finished adjusting her features. Then looking pleased, she grabbed the small Activator wand on the counter and touched it to her forehead with a flourish. Her skin loosened and livened, moving around naturally as she raised her eyebrows up and down and wriggled her nose back and forth. "Cute," she said to herself.
"Yes, Kel, you're the cutest—even without that face," Gar commented while clumsily using the Neutralizer wand to unstick the amorphous blob still attached to his head.
"Oh, look at you silly, let me help," Kel grabbed the Neut and zip zapped around his cheek, peeling off the mesh. "Let me just fix this eyebrow," she pushed her index finger against his eyesocket and resisted the temptation to give him a perpetually skeptical expression, instead, doing the usual, the natural, the way he liked it.
They were a magnetic-looking couple gliding out of the elevator into the lobby of their building wearing similar dark monochromatic stretch suits. Kel flattened her hair and swooped it all down her back like a mane. Gar wore a black hat, pulled down a little over one eye. She had pushed up her nose and cheekbones a touch and created the illusion of more space between her eyes by flattening and broadening her bridge. The effect was dramatic and hard to ignore.Â
Gar looked like he did most days. He used Flexthetics to hide the purple scar that dripped down his face from the outside corner of his right eye. He thought it made him look mean. And while he was at it, Kel liked to give him little cheek and chin dimples. She thought they made him look friendly and approachable.
Tonight was the debut performance of Gar's sister's play, The Madness of Being Me. It was a big deal around town; everyone was talking about it. All the artsy people they knew were going to be there, not to mention all the press. Kel liked getting noticed. She hoped she might get posted in the Look At Them Now stream.Â
They hopped in an AutoCab outside. The car confirmed, "Theatre Dorabella—Seven minutes."Â
"We're gonna be early. Ugh, I hate that. It looks too earnest. It's what my Dad would do. Let's walk instead, we have time—Do some people watching," Kel said, knowing people would be watching her.
"Okay, stop the ride," said Gar going along with it.
They got out and walked down the boulevard holding hands. It was a busy night, vibrating with good energy. There was some fog blowing in from the bay, making all the lights diffused and romantic. Kel absorbed the fairytale vibe, as people turned their heads. You could hear the hushed murmurs as they walked by. Gar was happy she was happy.
A block away from the theatre, they saw a young girl wandering down an alley by herself. It looked concerning, so they turned off the boulevard and followed after her. It wasn't exactly dangerous around here, but a little girl shouldn't be out by herself, just in case.
"Hi there," Kel called out.Â
The girl stopped and turned around. She was whimpering and crying softly. They both dropped down to her level. "It's okay, are you lost? Can we help you?" said Gar taking off his hat and speaking in his softest, kindest voice.
The little girl rubbed her eyes and looked down the alley at them. "Mom?" she said quietly, then again louder, "MOM?"Â
She started toward them, walking, then running, then jumping at Kel, wrapping her arms around her neck. Kel hugged her back and told her everything was okay. She pet down her hair as the little girl whimpered into her neck.
Kel and Gar looked at each other, worried. How were they going to straighten this out with her?Â
"What's your name?" asked Gar, but she didn't answer.
Still holding her, Kel tried, "It's okay, you can tell me. What's your name, hun?"
"It's Zena," she growled low, "You know." She started crying louder, holding on tight and kicking her legs.
When she settled a little, Kel pulled her away gently and got a good look at her. She couldn't be older than eight. She was dressed in good clothes and new-looking shoes. Her hair had been brushed recently and her face, though streaked with old tears, was washed and clean.
"How did you get lost?" asked Kel, trying a different approach.
"The car just dropped me off here," she mumbled and shrugged. Zena kept staring at Kel, then asked, "What are you wearing Mom?"
"Oh hun, I'm sorry, do I look like your Mom?" asked Kel, then tried to explain, "This is just skin mesh, little one. I made this face this evening. To go out. I thought it looked pretty. Just like your Mom."
Zena looked confused, slowly shaking her head from side to side with increasing intensity.
"Maybe show her?" said Gar, passing the Neut wand to Kel.
"No! I don't want to mess this up," she hissed back, "Besides, it would probably scare the hell out of her."
"Who put you in the car?" asked Kel, trying to change the subject.
"You did!" cried Zena and jumped on Kel again, grabbing at her suit and sobbing.
Kel held her close, consoling the abandoned girl. She looked at Gar in a way he had never seen before, then knew what to do next. "That wasn't me darling, c'mon Zena, we're gonna be late for the show. Ever been to the theatre?" she asked, picking Zena up and carrying her back toward the street.
The camera flashes popped as they entered the theatre, Zena still draped over Kel's shoulder. Gar walked closely beside them, holding his hat in his hand and his arm around Kel's waist. They found their seats and held Zena across their laps.Â
The curtains opened, the spotlight illuminating an empty stage as act one began.
Now I want to read the rest of the story. There is one, right?
Enigmatic and dreamlike, Jonnie-boy! Great stuff!