The first high I ever experienced was three weeks ago. Apollo had gotten us some LSD. He didn’t prepare me for what I saw- the intersection of my thoughts with my reality. I felt that the visions were ribbons of color guiding me towards some destiny. When I didn’t know what to think, I reminded myself that my thoughts were my own- for my own enjoyment, my responsibility- only to feel violating judgment on me from the shadows of the room, or from the chatter in my head. So I imagined that the flowers on my jacket were a garden that I was tending to, a garden that represented us. Apollo and I. I watered them extra carefully and told them the secrets I wasn’t sure I should tell him. 

When the drugs wore off we had passed out, Apollo’s arm numbly slung around me, protective, his tanned skin soft. His muscles strong and taut from years of living outside with the other homeless children- with all of us. We were grown up suddenly, and thicker than thieves. But I still wasn’t ready to have sex with him yet. I wanted to make sure it was the right time because I didn’t want to lose either of us in the process.

I remember staring up at the white ceiling of yet another condemned house, remembering exactly who I was and worrying that I’d be homeless forever.

Just three weeks later, I’m one of the richest women in the world, and almost nobody knows. We’ve made our way to a travel agency at the epicenter of Boston, and waited half an hour in a navy blue waiting room filled with perfumed people wearing designer brands. Now I stand nervously in front of technology I’ve never understood before, limply holding a pamphlet. The woman explaining interdimensional travel to me doesn’t seem to think I have the money for it- but customer service be damned, she’ll still try to upsell add-ons to me. Apollo and Violet are right behind me, I remind myself, but somehow I want to shake them off. I take charge instead.

“So which world is most interesting?” I ask, trying to mirror the sales associate’s body language to get a more accurate answer out of her. “Where is there something fun to do?”

“Well, what do you folks like?” The sales associate, a woman with unnervingly prismatic hair and a perpetual, practiced smile, tapped a long, manicured finger on a holographic display. "Our most popular destination for a vacation is World 7. It's a dimension where gravity is highly localized and fluctuates wildly. Imagine floating cities, sky-diving without a parachute, and buildings that defy physics. It's really fun.”

I assess her carefully and notice the slight sass in her eyes and know she’s full of shit. World 7 sounds fun, alright, but I want to get all the details because I can tell there’s something lesser about it. "Localized gravity? That sounds...unstable." 

“Oh, it is!" the woman coos, her smile widening. I stare at her, knowing the judgment is all over my face, but that she’ll breeze right past it. "But that's where the fun comes in, isn't it?” She lowers her voice as if we’re co-conspirators. “A little bit of chaos?”

I have to admit I’m tempted. I’ve always been afraid of heights and wanted to conquer that fear. But it doesn’t feel right. Apollo steps forward and whispers lowly in my ear. “Maddy, find out which tickets are most expensive.”

Embarrassed that my hands are shaking, because of the splendor of this travel agency we’re standing in, I unfold the pamphlet. I look for the highest ticket price and point to it.

“I think we’d like to go to World 1- this one.”

The sales associate's smile falters, becoming a touch less performative, a touch more genuinely curious. I just know she’s looking at our clothes and the scars on my arms and thinking, Can you really afford it? 

Violet saves me. She steps between us to get a look at the pictures in the pamphlet. “Oh my gosh- it looks beautiful. Can you show us more pictures?”

The saleswoman taps on her screen and pulls up a holographic map for us to view. For the first time since inheriting my money, surprise ripples through me. I lean in to get a better look.

“It’s important to note,” she says. “That we’re not liable for what happens when you travel to alternate dimensions… The laws are different. The people aren’t citizens of our world.”

I register what she’s saying because I know it’s important, but I can’t tear my eyes away from the view before me. I can feel Apollo’s hand brush lightly against my mini skirt as he leans in to see, too. 

Vast white-stone metropolises are built around colossal reflective lakes. Each building is designed to shimmer on the water, creating a dreamlike illusion of infinite horizons. Our own dimension being water-scarce, I’ve never seen that much water before. It feels synchronous to travel to a place like this. I feel relieved just looking at it, knowing I’ll never need for anything again. Looking at these pictures and holograms, I know I’ve made an aligned decision. 

“There’s something you should know,” the travel agent is still droning on. “In this world… well, desire is forbidden in World One. Theocratic law forbids not just rebellion but ‘personal longing.’ To want for oneself, rather than for the One, is considered treasonous. You would have to hide your relationship.”

“Fine with me,” I say. 

Apollo laughs lightly. 

“Three tickets,” Violet says.

(To be continued.)