• I cleaned the make up from my face, hoping tomorrow I would have a day off from the constant cameras. With the make up gone the scar was visible, running from my left eye to the top of my lip, my stylist hated it. I closed my eyes remembering the question the reporter asked, “So Ariston how does it feel it feel to get to Squadron 458?” It was a big honor but I didn’t like the idea of having to go to Mars, just so I can converse with a bunch of bear like creatures.
    Scientists found them about a year ago; they were living in Jupiter, which was thought to be a gas planet, but it turns out it has a solid piece of land in the middle. The Mears (short for monkey bears) would speak they’re snuffling and snorting language and Squadron 372 would translate it to us non-mears.
    A voice shrill interrupted my thoughts, “Ariston, were are you? Flavius Morington is going to interview you! If you don’t show yourself I’m going to get rid of all the outrageous black hair dye you have! Oh, if your’e going to sleep againin gonna-.“ She opened the door the bewildered look on her face told me she was not happy about my make-up being washed down the drain.
    I grinned at her shock. “I think I’m going to go out like this today Margret.” I said as a walked by her.