Neville stared at the modest pile of potatoes on his kitchen counter, his mind already three steps ahead. He pulled out a cutting board from his inventory, the metal surface cool against his palms. The knife felt foreign in his grip as he began slicing the potatoes into thin, even rounds.

Back on Earth, Neville had been going around working from place to place. He rarely encountered a place where he was invited to a gathering, much less to a welcome party.

What do they even do at a welcome party? There’s no proper food in the interstellar era. Are they going to drown themselves in high-quality nutrient solutions? How was that different from what they were doing at work? 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

The question rattled around his brain as he arranged the potato slices on a baking tray. He drizzled oil over the potatoes with what he hoped was the right amount.

Too much and they would be too greasy. Too little and they would burn.

The oven hummed to life as he slid the tray inside, then turned his attention to the bananas he bought from the system mall. He peeled and sliced them with more confidence, laying them out on a second tray.

As he worked, his thoughts spiraled again.

What do interstellar people even do at welcome parties? Was it like those high-class banquets he saw in Staredison Gwesty?

That passing thought made him recall unpleasant memories. But thinking positively that Iris, Sarah, and Bryan would surely be there, he put the messy thoughts aside.

[You’re overthinking again, host. ╮(╯▽╰)╭] Shelly appeared in front of Neville, near his face, without warning.

Neville nearly dropped his knife.

He sighed and said, "Are you done sulking?"

[Not yet, host. I’ll be back when I can. (◕‿◕✿)] She clearly wants to skip work.

"Just say you don’t want to work." Neville rolled his eyes.

[I’m clearly sensible enough not to use too much of your points, host. =3=] Shelly pouted, sulking again

"Just get lost."

With that, Shelly popped out again.

It seemed that Shelly was deeply concerned about his points. Being unable to help properly due to a lack of points was really taking a toll on her. It wasn’t her fault, but as she learned more about Neville, it was inevitable to think more human-like.

Neville’s sighed and set that problem aside. Instead, he focused on sprinkling salt over the banana slices, then sliding them into the oven alongside the potatoes. The timer blinked to life—fifteen minutes. He leaned against the counter and rubbed the back of his neck.

It seemed he really needed to drink some inhibitors.

Good thing, last time that he had a pseudo-heat, Neville still had the stash of pill bottles on him. It wasn’t as effective as the injection one, but it was still able to do its job, albeit with a shorter duration.

The oven chimed. Neville pulled out both trays, examining his handiwork. The potato chips were golden brown and crispy. The banana chips looked passable, if a bit darker than he’d intended. He transferred them into containers, sealing them carefully.

His light brain buzzed.

SGCutie: We’re coming to pick you up! (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ:・゚✧*

SGCutie: Don’t even think about saying you have a ride. Iris and I already agreed we’re your official party escorts!

IrisA.: She’s right. We’ll be at your dorm in twenty minutes. Be ready.

Neville sighed in relief. He originally intended to call for a hovercar in an app and asked for the location. After all, he didn’t know how to drive a hover car even if he had one.

He glanced down at his clothes: black pants, a simple button-up shirt in dark gray. Professional but casual enough for a party, or so he hoped. The last thing he needed was to show up overdressed or—worse—underdressed.

Twenty minutes later, Neville grabbed the containers of chips, double-checked that his glasses were firmly in place, and put everything in his inventory before going out.

Sarah was in front of Iris, next to a hovercar. She wore a glittering silver dress that caught the light with every movement. Her hair was temporarily dyed blonde and styled in elaborate curls with her signature bright smile.

"Hope!" She grabbed his arm before he could protest, dragging him toward the anti-grav lift. "You look adorable! Doesn’t he look adorable, Iris?"

Iris, standing by the lift in a sleek black jumpsuit that emphasized her no-nonsense demeanor, raised an eyebrow. Her dark violet bob was perfectly styled, as always.

"He looks fine. Let’s go before we’re late."

"Late?" Neville allowed himself to be herded into the lift. "I thought parties didn’t have strict start times."

"They don’t." Sarah beamed. "But the good food goes fast, and if we show up late, we’ll be stuck with whatever nutrient solution the catering team calls ’appetizers.’"

Sarah practically skipped toward the hovercar, while Iris walked with grace. Neville climbed into the back seat, settling between them as the hover hummed to life.

"So," Sarah said brightly, twisting to face him, "have you ever been to a party before?"

"Not... really." Neville adjusted his glasses.

"Oh, honey, no." Sarah patted his knee sympathetically. "This is going to be so much better. Maxwell Corporation goes all out for all kinds of parties. Live entertainment, professional bartenders, actual food—"

"And it’s not just for the newbies in the secretarial department," Iris interjected, "The company combined this welcome party for new permanent employees with the general team-building event. It was more efficient this way and grander than ever before."

Relief flooded through Neville. "How many newbies will be there?"

Iris’s lips curled upward. "There are at least thirty new permanent hires this quarter."

That was exactly what Neville wanted to hear. Too few of the newbies would be harder to avoid attention. After all, he didn’t know what other weird quirks the interstellar people have.

...

As soon as the hover car turned a corner, Neville caught his breath.

The venue rose before them like something out of a fever dream. Circular and massive, its walls were constructed from some translucent material that shifted colors in waves—blue to purple to green to gold. Lights pulsed from within, synchronized to a beat he could feel even through the hovercar’s soundproofing.

"It looks like a concert hall," Neville said faintly.

"Close! But not big enough." Sarah chirped. "It’s the Stellar Dome. Usually hosts big performances, but Maxwell Corporation owns it and rents it out for events. Pretty fancy, right?"

Fancy was an understatement. The building dominated the block, its architecture somehow both futuristic and organic. The hovercar landed smoothly in the designated parking area.

Neville climbed out, suddenly feeling that the snacks he had made in the inventory were inadequate. What was he thinking, bringing homemade snacks to a party in a venue like this?

Sarah looped her arm through his, apparently sensing his hesitation. "Come on! The night’s just getting started."

Iris fell into step on his other side, and together they approached the entrance.

Inside, the Stellar Dome was even more impressive. The ceiling arched overhead, a perfect dome that displayed a simulation of the night sky—stars twinkling, nebulae swirling, the two moons of Planet Xylos slowly drifting across the artificial heavens. The floor was polished to a mirror shine, reflecting the lights that pulsed in time with the music.

And the music. Oh, the music.

It was unlike anything Neville had heard on Earth. Electronic but layered, with beats that didn’t quite sync with any rhythm he recognized. Synthesizers wailed and hummed, punctuated by percussion, all woven into the melody.

"It’s... interesting," Neville said, albeit weirded out.

Sarah laughed. "You’ll get used to it! It’s the latest from DJ Groove. Very trendy right now."

Trendy. Sounds about right. Neville made a mental note never to let Shelly know he found the music catchy. He would never hear the end of it.

The crowd was dense but not uncomfortably so. Employees mingled in clusters, drinks in hand, laughing and chatting. A dance floor occupied the center of the space, already populated by brave souls attempting to move to the weird rhythm.

Around the perimeter, tables were arranged in a loose semicircle, each laden with—

Neville’s eyes widened.

Drinks. So many drinks.

The bar stretched along one entire wall, backlit and stocked with bottles in every color imaginable. Crystal decanters held amber liquids, frosted glasses contained something that glowed faintly blue, and a massive dispenser in the center poured what looked like liquid starlight.

"Impressed?" Iris asked, her tone amused.

"Terrified," Neville admitted. "How am I supposed to know what to drink?"

"That’s what we’re here for!" Sarah tugged him toward the bar. "Come on, we’ll start you off easy."

But before they could reach the bar, Sarah and Iris were intercepted by a group of their colleagues. Enthusiastic greetings were exchanged, and hands were shaken. Neville found himself gently nudged to the side as the conversation turned to departmental gossip.

He didn’t mind. It was much better that he wouldn’t need to be forced to drink unusual drinks.

Neville scanned the room. Most people seemed comfortable, laughing and drinking without a care. He somehow felt out of place for the first time since he got hired.

Then he spotted him.