Only Human - Part 1
Content warning: Trans man being gender nonconforming and very fluid with his gender expression.
The siren had just begun to hum its ominous yet sharp tune, letting everyone still in the open street know that a rain was about to begin soon, and Midhna was already running late from his shift, desperately hoping he wouldn’t get burned by it. Still, he was willing to risk the corrosive drops over a glassfall every night. With a glassfall he would have no any other choice than to stop, and wait for the sharp and deadly downpour to end, but with simple rain, he might be able to run over to the sheet covering the street before it began, and even if he did not make it, the first drops were rarely concentrated enough to cause any lasting damage on a person. Albeit getting a red and itchy skin was not something he wanted either, or how the rain would most certainly ruin his deep-red, silk dress, which was already worn from the seams and hem, much to his dislike.
Decades ago, the street Midhna was running on had been a skyscraper, maybe even an office for some now-forgotten great corporation, but nowadays it worked as a street to be passed by, filled with small shops and stalls, ground down from the top by the years of erosion so much that it would rain inside when the weekly sprinkles were turned on. Under the street level, there were more shops and even apartments, and there were multiple similar buildings next to it. Connected together only by small bridges, pipes, and fallen debris. What had once been the centre of a large city had been turned into multiple autonomous districts, working almost as if different countries of olden days. Some districts covered more than one building, having even tens of them inside the borders, yet some even functioned within the same building, usually leading to clashes between the various rivalling authorities, who wanted nothing more than more space and resources for their respective districts.
The district where Midhna lived and did his morning shifts was called Upper Moor Trade Centre, or Upper Moor for short. It was ruled by a small council, where each member was elected by those who could pay for their HOA license, something Midhna would have to work hard for if he ever dreamed about voting during elections. The Upper Moor district was made from four large buildings, and only the lowest levels were claimed by a gang, making it comparatively safe to work and live in, but even though the Upper Moor covered a rather large area, the far taller buildings around it made sure no sunlight ever got in, shrouding everything in the faint neon glow that never really went away.
Even though it was a safe place to live, the Upper Moor was slowly turning poorer and poorer with each passing quarter. The district had once been connected to the larger one only a few buildings next to it by an monorail, but once the Deckers took control over the building between them, the rail had been left abandoned and the only train was trashed for parts, taking a much of the districts wealth with it as trading and moving large amounts of supplies became a lot harder without a working monorail. Till, even in here, the right amount of coinage could easily give one a chance at a better life, but the type and amount depended on the district. In the Upper Moor, Midhna was able to afford a meagre living with his two jobs, and rent an apartment on a floor that was regarded as safe and prestigious enough to allow him to work a few floors above it. If he had lived a few levels below it, he would not only have had a much harder time finding work, but he would have had to live in a much more treacherous area where stabbings were more than the norm, and one’s living space could be expected to be broken into at least once a month.
Rushing past a few street vendors still on the street, covering their movable stalls in a hurry, not paying any attention to the black man running past them, Midhna realised how hungry he was as the smell of the freshly made salty crepe found its way into his nose. When he had started his first shift that very morning, he had not had time to eat anything, except for the few beans he had taken from the counter when someone had dropped them from their meal, and now, 14 hours later, he was paying for it with dizziness and a headache. He knew he could still snag something when he arrived at the club, but running this late would certainly make it more difficult. He still had to reapply his makeup, do his hair again, and all that before he could even put on his dancer’s mask. Why they had to do that with masks, he did not know. It all seemed so vain when all they had to do their jobs was to have a human body, nothing more, nothing less. Yet the mistress’ word was the law, and Midhna was not about to question it in order to keep his job.
The rising humidity in the air had covered everything in a thick mist, a sure way to tell that rain was just a few minutes, if even that, away, even without the continuous tune of the warning siren. The mist made the red and purple neon lights glow in an eerie way. Up here, the mist appeared and disappeared with the rain, but lower down, it was a constant problem, hiding in its shroud secrets that did not withstand daylight. Safety was only a few steps away, but the burning in Midhna’s lungs told him he would soon have to stop or he would bile all over the asphalt underneath his silky, beaded shoes. When he passed one of the many speakers filling the street loudly telling him about a sale in a language he did not understand in its usual crackling sound, Midhna could feel the first few drops of corrosive water hit his head, just one step away from the cover, and he just barely made it underneath it once the rainfall begun to drum against the dark street, the smell of which was almost as foul as that coming from the sewage tunnel near his apartment he paid too much rent for.
Taking a short moment to rest, Midhna leaned forward and huffed loudly, breathing in the quickly disappearing mist. He could already feel the growing itching the mere rain drop had caused in his scalp, and he was happy that he had gotten to cover before the downpour.
“The rain giveth, the rain taketh, eh, young man?” A woman next to Midhna said with a friendly tone. When he glanced at the woman to nod to them, he saw an older, bare-faced and bald woman with glasses so thick, Midhna had to wonder how she managed to see at all, even with them on her rather large nose. He quickly mumbled to her in agreement, knowing that if he lingered any longer, he would be too late, and worse, the woman would probably try to sell him something less than statutory or try to get him to sell his body under some unruly gangleader, so he quickly excused himself and began to sprint again, slower this time, but in a rush anyway.
Underneath the large sheet of acid-proof shroud, there were still some spots where the battering rain could get through, which Midhna avoided with ease. This was not his first run after all through this street, and even though the city shifted and changed constantly, this one seemed to stay rather sturdy, unlike the shaky bridge he was heading towards. The paper lanterns decorating the paint-covered street wall turned from red to light blue, telling him in their silent, yet bright language that he was approaching the pleasure district. Midhna had once heard that in the past, the lights were the other way around, but that the calming effect of the blue light had made it more popular in the spiral cities as a sign of such places, and he himself rather enjoyed the calming effect those gentle, blue lights offered him.
The street Midhna was running on spread open, revealing the old bridge, which was barely held together by large steel chains, swaying in the air slowly even without. To get into The Blue Casket in time, Midhna would have to run over it and hope it would not collapse underneath his heavy step. He quickly jumped on the first steel plate, sending sounding metallic echoes throughout the area. To his relief, there was no one else trying to go past, meaning there would be less weight on the bridge as a whole, yet the groaning each rusted plate made as he stepped on them did not make him feel any easier. Midhna’s eyes were fixed on the building at the end of the bridge, with fan-like moulds covering its outer walls. He did not dare to look down, knowing that if the bridge were to fall down, he would fall into the eternal darkness below, or if he was lucky, he would smash against some building lower down. No one knew any longer how tall the skyscrapers were; they had been built so long ago that they had reached the clouds before those were gone, after which people had just kept adding onto. Reaching whatever was still down there had to take hours, and even by then, one falling down would have to pass the lowest levels, which were barely habitable due to the pollution, not even counting what came after them. Below the polluted levels, there were ones with so much radioactivity that only engies could live down there, and even for them, it was hardly survivable, and they did not even have skins to melt.
Just as Midhna stepped on the next plate, he could feel the one under his sole give in, collapsing on the one underneath it and falling down. Midhna’s blood ran cold, but the adrenaline in his veins made him run faster than ever before. With a few more quick steps, he was across the bridge and turned around. Almost all colour drained from his soft face, leaving behind only paleness and the redness of his strain when he saw what had happened. In the middle section of the bridge, there now lay only blackness; at least five plates had collapsed, and the rest of them looked even worse than before. Had he been any slower, stopped to take a breath, or had hesitated even for a moment, Midhna too would be gone, stuck in a fall without end, a thought of which mere thought made another shiver run down his spine. Luck or not, he was still alive, and he could see something else in the distance, or rather, someone.
The woman Midhna had met on the street was on the other side of the bridge, waving her fist up in the air angrily, trying to shout something at him, but the constant hum of the rain muffled her voice. It looked like the woman had followed him, but had not dared to enter the bridge at the same time, or if she had, she had retreated quickly back when the first plate had collapsed. Whatever her intentions had been, Midhna had no idea, and he did not want to find out now. After his shift, he would have to take another bridge home, which was further away and would take him through a certain district Midhna would have liked to avoid, but it would take months, maybe even years, before anyone would repair the one he had just broken, leaving him with no other option. Something he would have to worry about later that night. Right now, the clock was still running, and a mere near-death situation was not something that would be an acceptable reason for being late, not to his coworkers and especially not to the headmistress of The Blue Casket. With trembling legs, Midhna made his way to the building behind him and followed the long stairs decorated with a swirling copper railing decorated with a mix of yonic and phallic symbols to the lower level. His heart pounded against his chest like the rainfall drumming the concrete walls outside. The blue paper lanterns led him to the lower floor, where the line at the entrance of The Blue Casket club was by this time long enough to reach the whole block, and the loud music coming from the inside told Midhna everything was already at full swing.
Midhna took in a deep breath, fixed his dress, and made sure his curly, lavender hair was somewhat neatly put before he stepped into the alley next to the entrance and went through the back door to begin his next six-hour shift.
