Page 7 of I Fell for an Alien Popstar

“Passengers,” the recorded voice said, “we will be arriving in Vela orbit shortly. Please ensure your harnesses are fastened. Local time and weather conditions will be displayed upon descent.”

“Already?” I croaked. “We, like, totally just boarded a minute ago.”

“Time moves extremely fast in space,” Pia’re explained. “Especially when you’re excited for something. It makes time go by quickly.”

I checked my band. A new notification blinked in the corner of my vision: WELCOME TO LUMARA CITY, VELA. TOUR PACKAGE CONFIRMATION—LUMARA CITY ARENA, PIT SECTION.

“Pit?”

“What?” Pia’re asked.

“Oh, I guess I bought pit tickets, but I don’t remember the package saying that.” I looked at the words still blinking on my wrist comm.

“Hmm. Well, enjoy it. I love the pit. You’re right there with her. It’s totally high-frequency. Sadly this time I didn’t get pit tickets, I’m pretty high up,” she frowned. “I spent all my credits in Toronto shopping.”

“I suppose.” I shrugged as a smile started forming. “It would be totally stellar to see her up close. Especially since this is my first concert.” I giggled with excitement.

I sat back in my seat and let the harness tighten across my chest as the shuttle began its descent. Outside, the darkness softened slowly to deep indigo, then violet. Vela swelled in the window—a planet shot through with glowing veins of city light, oceans reflecting nebulae like spilled paint.

“How excited are you, Spunky Potato? You finally get to see Zhari live after only watching her streams,” Pia’re asked.

“I’m so pumped!” I exclaimed. “I just want to scream from excitement. This is going to be so much fun.”

The shuttle docked with a cushioned thud. The cabin erupted into the soft chaos of people unbuckling, stretching, and grabbing bags from overhead compartments. I stood on legs that felt like they belonged to someone else.

“Come on.” Pia’re looped her backpack on. “I’ll show you the best Nebs stand near the arena.”

“Oh yes. I could totally eat. I’m starving.”

We were swept along with the crowd through the disembarkation tunnel. The air shifted again as the terminal doors opened fully—warmer and more humid. Voices overlapped in so many different languages. I turned up my translator after having it on mute.

Signs glowed in Velan script and human translations, all slick curves and sharp edges. I thought that was great because I wasn’t the best at reading Velan or any other alien language.

Outside the glass of the terminal, Lumara City burned neon against a baby blue and purple sky. Somewhere beyond the towers, billboards, and hoverlanes, an arena waited, already warming up with a sound check and light tests.

And I couldn’t wait to get there.

The first step into the street confirmed I was no longer on Earth. The air was fresher somehow. It was crisp and filled with the most fragrant, sweet notes I had ever smelled.

Then there was the gravity. It was just slightly off. Not enough to make me stumble, but enough that every step felt like the ground was a bit squishy.

“You feel it, don’t you?” Pia’re asked, watching me with amusement. “The gravity here is about eight percent lighter than Earth’s. You’ll walk funny for a bit, but then you’ll get used to it.”

“I already walk funny. This is just giving me an excuse.” I winked.

I clutched my chest, laughing breathlessly, and spun in a slow circle. “This is incredible!” I shouted into the air. “Woo!”

Pia’re laughed and shook her head. “I am so glad to be witnessing a human’s first time here on Vela.”

I smiled as I tapped my wrist comm. The holo-ticket hovered in the air—ZHARI LUMIS—LUMARA—TONIGHT ONLY. The venue icon pulsed at me from the map app, a little star a few blocks east.

“Okay,” I whispered to myself. “You made it across space. You can make it downtown. I am proud of you.” I tightened my backpack straps and grabbed my suitcase handle.

We started walking down the busy street, my eyes jumping from one thing to another.

I had been told humans were still rare enough here, which I could definitely feel. The attention on me felt like static on my skin. Velans moved around me in glittering swirls. Some had bioluminescent patterns along their cheekbones, while glitter-light threads wound through their hair. Most wore cool chromeskin jackets that shifted color as they walked.

Street vendors floated trays of things called dew cakes and shimmering drinks that looked like bottled constellations. I knew they were dew cakes because they were one of Zhari’s favorite snacks. Sometimes during interviews, she would be eating them. She always described them as “light and fluffy, with a subtle ube taste.”