Chapter 11: When Aliens Go French

The light intensified, bathing me in its warmth. It was almost like being hugged by a thousand suns, but without the burning. My feet left the ground. I wasn't flying, not really. More like…floating, being lifted upwards by an invisible force. It was like that dream, the one where you effortlessly drift towards the ceiling, except this was real. And I was terrified.

Then, just as abruptly as it began, the ascent stopped. I found myself in a circular room, bathed in a soft, diffused light. It wasn't the cold, sterile environment I'd always imagined a spaceship to be. It was…nice. Actually, it reminded me of those sleek, minimalist interiors you see on Star Trek, white, gleaming, futuristic. But with better lighting. Way better lighting.

And then I saw them.

They weren't the bulbous-headed, large-eyed creatures of science fiction. Standing in front of me, tall and proud, were beings that looked strikingly…human. I blinked, trying to clear my vision, but they remained. They were giants, towering over me at least seven feet tall, with lean, graceful builds. And if I had to pick a word to describe their features, it would be "ethereal."

But what struck me the most was their coloring. Hair like spun gold, eyes like blue sapphires.

Wait. Blonde hair and blue eyes?

Like me?

Could they be…my ancestors? The thought popped into my head, unbidden and absurd. Were these the missing link, the connection to some ancient, advanced civilization? My mind was officially blown.

Then my hands flew to my backside, a completely involuntary reaction. All those alien abduction documentaries I'd devoured in middle school came flooding back, vivid and terrifying. "Probe" was such an unpleasant word, and yet, here I was, certain that it was about to become my reality.

My mind raced. This couldn't be happening. Not to me! I hadn't even found a boyfriend yet! Not that I was actively looking, mind you. There were just so many K-Pop concerts to attend and limited-edition photocards to collect. Plus, dating was complicated. It wasn't as if I could just download a perfect boyfriend, no matter how many times I wished my Otome games came to life.

A ripple of amusement passed between the towering figures. One of them, slim and graceful as a willow tree, spoke. His voice was like windchimes, melodic and soothing. "We assure you, we have no intention of probing you."

Another, built like a refrigerator but with a surprisingly gentle face, chuckled. "That's probably those Greys from Zeta Reticuli. They're obsessed with that sort of thing."

"Other alien groups?" I sputtered, my hand instinctively moving from my behind to cover my gaping mouth. "There are, like, groups? This is just…great." I flopped back, my legs no longer able to hold my weight. Great, just great. Alien turf wars were the last thing I needed in my life. If those aliens were real, then…oh god, maybe Stefan was right about those conspiracy theories.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to appear braver than I felt. "So," I asked, forcing a casual tone, "what do you want from me? Besides a DNA sample, I mean."

One of the beings, this one even taller than the others, stepped forward. His face was unnervingly avian, with sharp, intelligent eyes, but his expression was kind. "Greetings," he chirped, his voice surprisingly melodic. "I am a Blue Avian, and I believe we have your brother to thank for this encounter."

He went on to explain that two years ago, while Stefan was in Tibet – he had encountered a stray cat. A blue cat. Stefan, being Stefan, had assumed it was some Tibetan dye or something and tried to wash the poor creature in a river. When that failed, he'd shrugged and offered the cat some balep, a kind of Tibetan bread, from his own meagre rations.

"That cat…" the Blue Avian continued, his voice tinged with amusement, "was me. I admit, I was not at my most vigilant and I had not yet realised the unusual hue of my chosen disguise." He chuckled, a sound like rustling leaves. "Your brother's kindness, however, was most touching. I had intended to offer him a token of gratitude but…" He paused, shaking his head. "He was gone before I could properly thank him. A most unusual human, your brother."

Apparently, the Blue Avian had been so intrigued by Stefan's casual generosity that he'd decided to learn more about him. His investigation led him to our family, to our parents' house in the gated community, even to my chaotic yet predictable life.

"We were passing by your country," the Avian explained, "when we detected your presence. The timing seemed…auspicious. After all, it is your weekend, is it not?"

I glanced at my watch, even though I knew it was pointless. It was almost midnight Saturday – technically Sunday morning. Not exactly prime time for intergalactic meet-and-greets.

"Time," the Avian chirped, misinterpreting my silence, "flows differently within our vessel. You have nothing to fear."

He was right. What did I have to lose? Besides, all those UFO sightings on the news lately had piqued my curiosity. Maybe this was my chance to be part of something…out of this world.

The Blue Avian gestured for me to follow him, and before I knew it, I was being escorted to a cafeteria within the ship. The lighting was soft yet bright, creating a cozy ambiance that felt oddly familiar. As I sat down, I was served a flaky croissant and a steaming cup of coffee by one of the aliens. I couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all—here I was, in a spaceship, being treated to what looked suspiciously like a typical Parisian breakfast.

I took a bite of the croissant, and my eyes widened in surprise. The buttery, flaky goodness melted in my mouth, and I couldn't shake the feeling that it tasted just like something from my favorite French bakery back home. I sipped the coffee next, and the rich, bold flavor washed over me. My eyebrows shot up as I thought, Why am I drinking coffee in the middle of the night? Maybe I really need to be awake right now.

"This… this tastes just like French food!" I exclaimed, my voice laced with astonishment.

The trio of aliens shared a bemused glance, their features softening into smiles. "It was bought from a French bakery," the Blue Avian explained, a hint of pride in his tone. "And we brewed the coffee using French coffee beans we acquired. Our coffee maker is quite sophisticated."

I chuckled, shaking my head in disbelief. "You're blending in so well… doing the French thing in France." It was almost too perfect. How surreal could this experience get?

One of the other aliens, a stocky fellow with a gentle demeanor, leaned in and quipped, "When in Rome, right?"

The familiar phrase hung in the air, and I couldn't help but laugh. Here I was, caught up in an intergalactic adventure, and they were making me feel right at home with croissants and coffee. It was a bizarre yet comforting juxtaposition that made me feel more at ease. Surrounded by these oddly charming beings, I began to realize that the universe was a lot smaller than it seemed.

As I nibbled on my croissant, the stocky alien leaned forward, his curious eyes sparkling with mischief. "So, Sacha," he began, "what's your type of men?"

I nearly choked on my pastry. "Why do you want to know?" I asked, half-laughing, half-embarrassed. What was this, some kind of interstellar matchmaking service? I mean, sure, I had been thinking about how I still hadn't had a boyfriend yet, but I wasn't exactly expecting to be set up with an alien! "Are you all trying to hook me up with an alien boyfriend or something?" I teased, waving my croissant around for emphasis. The thought was comical, and I couldn't help but giggle at the absurdity of it all.

The fat alien chuckled, clearly enjoying my reaction. Just when I thought I had escaped the awkwardness of the question, something unsettling occurred to me. "Wait a second," I said, my eyes widening. "Can you read my mind?"

The thin alien, who had been silently observing with a gentle grin, shook his head. "No, Sacha. It's not that we can read your mind." He paused for a moment, his expression softening. "We can feel your emotions. We understand your worries and desires."

A chill ran down my spine. Great. Just great. I was practically an open book. I felt exposed, as if my innermost thoughts and feelings were laid bare for these aliens to scrutinize. What if they sensed all those embarrassing things I thought about when I was alone, or worse, my secret crushes? My cheeks flushed, and I had to fight the urge to hide my face behind the croissant. "So, uh… you know about my love life, or lack thereof?" I stammered, looking between the aliens, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement.

The trio shared another knowing glance, clearly entertained by my discomfort. I felt like I was in a cosmic reality show where my dating life was now a topic of discussion among alien beings. "This is so not how I pictured my weekend going," I muttered under my breath, shaking my head in disbelief.