Six months before
“‘…make a list of everything you find beautiful and stick it to a location, like your bedroom door, so that whenever you walk past, a private screen will pop up with the list…’ Ick. They can’t tell me how to decorate my room.”
Luna rolled on her back on the bed, and the holographic images of her friends bounced upward, so that she could see them as she spoke to them.
Aria wasn’t really paying attention. She was picking at her teeth with a tiny floating laser, which meant she had taken the conversation into the bathroom. Charlotte, who had opted for a full body image, was sitting on her favourite chair in the living room of her family’s tiny house, arms wrapped around her knees. Mateo only allowed his head to be visible, which probably meant he was inking on himself again, rather than using virtual tattoos like everyone else.
“They don’t have the right to tell me where to put the list, do they?” Luna said. “I mean, they’re not going to check, right?”
“My sister didn’t make a list,” Charlotte said, “and they didn’t let her participate. She had to apply for forgiveness.”
Luna sighed. Everyone knew about Charlotte’s idiot sister who bent rules as far as possible.
“Okay, fine, a list,” Mateo said. “Can we all just agree that the instructions are annoying?”
Aria removed the laser from her teeth. “The instructions exist so that we don’t make the same mistakes other people did.”
Luna rolled her eyes. She knew that. They all knew that.
“If we want to get the Beauty Enhancer, we have to follow the rules.” Then Aria put the laser back in her teeth.
“Except for Charlotte’s sister,” Luna said.
“Shhh,” Mateo said with a laugh. “Don’t interrupt Aria when she’s pretending she’s smarter than us.”
Aria held her middle finger near her face, and everyone laughed. Then the conversation shifted, just like it always did.

“Just choose sunset,” Luna said, forgetting she had wanted Charlotte’s advice. “You know you want to"

One week before
Luna stared at her list. Sixteen different versions of it floated around her room. Whittle the list down to five, the instructions said. She had had no trouble whittling from hundreds to dozens and from dozens to fifty. But from fifty to five?
She had no idea who invented the Beauty Enhancer or why. Mom said after a while they learned that it had to be regulated or people would get distracted forever.
The ability to go inside something you found beautiful, something that touched you, and experience the beauty in a completely different way, well, Luna’s dad said it was the essence of being human.
Except not everyone got to do it. It was an augmentation and a privilege, one her parents could afford. But Luna didn’t have to choose anything. She could live without it if she wanted.
She didn’t want to live without it, though. She stared at her floating lists. Choose, choose, choose.
She pressed the insta-contact in her right thumbnail. Charlotte appeared, cross-legged in her backyard. Luna brought up the time on the image, saw that it was nearly sundown.
“Just choose sunset,” Luna said, forgetting she had wanted Charlotte’s advice. “You know you want to.”
Charlotte didn’t look at her, but instead stared in the distance, probably looking west. The light decorated her brown skin in shades of pink and orange.
“But what if there is no sunset that day? I mean, y’know, clouds?” Charlotte said.
“You say clouds make the sunset prettier,” Luna said.
“But not complete cloud cover,” Charlotte said.
“I’m sure there are contingencies.” She and Charlotte had had this conversation a million times.
Charlotte knew what she wanted. She just didn’t know she knew, and that was irritating.
“I can’t pick five,” Luna said.
Charlotte flashed her an irritated look. Apparently, Luna wasn’t the only person tired of these conversations. “Just go with whatever you feel that day.”
“But you can’t repeat your first time,” Luna said.
“Do you ever hear anyone talking about their first time?” Charlotte asked. “Okay. Sun’s about to go down. I’m going to sign off.”
And she did.
Luna’s mom had sounded irritated too when Luna kept bringing up her choices. Just pick one, Mom had said, as if visiting something beautiful from the inside was a normal thing.
Which, for grownups, it was. Everyone got to use their Beauty Enhancer once a week. Mom sometimes forgot to activate hers. Luna thought maybe Mom no longer found a lot of things beautiful.
Dad said beauty on the outside was complicated inside. He wouldn’t explain any further. And he wouldn’t look at Luna’s list.
That’s private, honey, he said, and that was that.

“Not a wound, exactly,” Luna said. “A wound that’s healing"

The day before
“A wound?” Mateo made a gagging sound. “You want to experience a wound from the inside out?”
Luna wished she had never told him. But she had thought Mateo would understand. He’d chosen his ant farm, for godsake.
“Not a wound, exactly,” Luna said. “A wound that’s healing.”
He stuck out his tongue and crossed his eyes, and she shut down the entire conversation.
Maybe that’s why Dad said this stuff was private. Because of Mateo’s reaction. (And hers, really. Who wanted to be an ant, even for an hour, just to see how an ant farm got built?)
But healing. That was stunning. She loved to watch vids of the way the human body knit itself back together after a traumatic event. Yeah, the body was changed, but even the change was beautiful. It was like Charlotte’s sunset—something unique and different all at the same time.
A wound. No, healing. That’s how Luna would present it. She’d like to experience healing on the microlevel. The knitting together of pieces after trauma.
She had finally narrowed down her list.

"Because it changes you, Luna almost said. Because it makes you appreciate the world"

The day after
Her friends called when Luna was on her bed, thinking about the next time. The healing wasn’t just one thing. It was many things. And she could break them down, visit them one by one each week for nearly a year.
Her friends floated around her. Aria looked tired and wan. Charlotte was grinning. Mateo’s face didn’t reveal anything.
“So?” he asked.
Aria shook her head. “Didn’t go,” she said. “Wasn’t ready.”
“I’m going again next week,” Charlotte said. “No one told me that each one being different was an asset.”
Luna put her hands behind her head. Charlotte was right. Different moments, caught in time. Different experiences. Each beautiful.
“You have to do it,” Luna said to Aria.
“Why?” Aria asked.
Because it changes you, Luna almost said. Because it makes you appreciate the world.
“Trust me,” Luna said, and then the conversation shifted, just like it always did.
Which was also beautiful. And a moment they would never get back, even though they had been inside it a second ago.
Experiencing it.
A half second of beauty, from the inside out.

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