The two teenage girls refuse to look at you.

The two teenage girls refuse to look at you.

"Don't make eye contact," she mutters.

"I can't, don't worry."

"Hey, teens."

"Yeah, the hypermall is cool if you know what you're looking for..." She speaks loudly to her friend, avoiding your gaze.

I'll come back looking more teen-acceptable. [Leave.]

"Thank fuck. It's leaving."

"Woah, where did you get that coat? It's so... moonglow."

"Got it from an old cripple."

"Can you say that? I don't think you can say that."

"I found the weird headphone guy..."

"Ooh, ooh! What happened?"

"It turns out he didn't kidnap Ultra Violeta."

"...Oh." Her shoulders sag. "For real?"

Her fantasy, crushed under your heel.

"Sorry. He is super obsessed with her, if that makes any difference."

"Eh... whatever."

No more tingles. Sad.

"He is definitely trying to kidnap her, though."

"Oh! Okay." She perks up.

"Does he know where she is?"

"No. Thankfully. But trust me, she's safe."

The girls share a glance between them.

They're not sure how they feel about that.

"Nope. He doesn't have a clue."

"Oh. Alright. That's... good, I think?"

"I'm not sure. If he does, he hasn't said anything yet."

"Oh. I hope she's okay..."

"Yeah. You idiots were waaaay off."

"Shut up."

"He shot me!"

"In the body? Oh... not moonglow."

"Would my face be 'moonglow'? Is that what you want to see??"

"It would be moonglow if you were dead but, you lived so now you're just... shot. I'm so sorry. Maybe an eyepatch?"

"She wasn't shot in the eye though-- ohh! Yeah she's right, that would have been way more moonglow. Eyepatches are cool. You just have to commit to never taking it off."

"Well, he shot at me. I dodged."

"Oh. To be honest.. actually getting shot would be more moonglow. That's even less moonglow, basically no glow at all."

"Serious question..." She turns to her friend. "Should we ask him to shoot us? If we went to the hospital maybe UV would come and visit for the PR opp!"

"He wasn't that scary. You're just being babies."

"Easy for you to say -- you're all haggard. We're prime targets for creepy men."

"He basically killed my partner."

"Eugh, so hot. Wait, your partner was a guy, right?"

"He dominated him. That can happen with guys." She nods sagely.

"He basically wanged my partner."

"Turns out he's a colleague in my field of expertise."

"We don't give a shit what your boring jobs are."

"Enough about him..." [Back.]

"You're the one who brought him up." Beneath the mask, a near certain eyeroll.

"I think I know why Ultra Violeta's music is so good."

"Oh wow, you know?" She flicks her head. "It's good because it's good, no need to question it."

"It's a feel thing." She nods slowly. "Real feel."

Currently a balmy 14 degrees, under threat from a cold air mass moving across the Noscorrentes Sea.

"What do you mean 'real feel'?"

"I mean, like... first you feel it. And then you know it's real."

A tiger punch upon the elbow nerve of life.

"That's the ineffable melancholy."

"Why would we want to fuck melancholy, you nonce?"

"Wait, let her speak."

"L-Pop is promising you a future, but giving you the past."

"Woah."

"I don't know... Isn't the meaning of the song what you make it? Does it all have, like, one meaning?"

"No, I think I get what she's talking about... sometimes when I listen to UV I get nostalgic for a time I wasn't even alive in." She turns to you. "Hey, what is melancholy, do you think?"

"Mostly ineffable, as I said."

"She has no fucking clue, in other words."

"I think she means... it doesn't need to be said, right?"

CENSORED MELANCHOLIA OF [REDACTED] ELECTRONIC POPULAR MUSIC.

"Keep listening to Ultra Violeta."

"Obviously not gonna stop listening to her..."

"I'll keep listening, for sure. And thanks. That was seriously moonglow."

Their own enchanted word for the same unpronounceable feeling.

"Just thought you'd like to know."

"I think we got it. Lecture over, please."

"Thanks. That was seriously moonglow."

"It's like sadness, but not as bad."

"Why is it not as bad?"

"Because it's lighter."

"But also... heavier, right?"

Lighter, then darker, then lighter again -- an ever-changing violet shade.

"I don't know. It just isn't."

"I think it might be. I think maybe it's worse than when someone dies, like worse than just plain sadness."

"Sometimes when I listen to UV I think of my grandma..."

A vacant pale green chair in the corner of the living room. A photo frame at the base of a shrine. And a wooden box buried on Portofiro's third tallest hill.

"It's like sadness, but worse."

"Why is it worse?"

"Because it means things were good once. And now they're not."

"Like you lost something along the way. Or... you'll lose something soon."

Like you never even had it -- only dreamed that you once dreamed of having it.

"Because it's more human."

"More human..."

And what could be worse than that?

"Yes. And that feel is the ineffable melancholy."

"'Fan-shifting'?"

"Yeah. We're fan-shifting right now." She adjusts her mask. "Not surprised you've never heard of it."

"We like to do it together... it's fun to make the costumes. And it's nice to sing to the world, when it listens."

Starting on their personas at such a young age. Impressive.

Fän gäng!

"You look fantastic."

"Thanks."

"Obviously."

"Are you having fun, pretending to be Ultra Violeta?" (Proceed.)

"We're not 'pretending'." She turns to her friend. "Why can old people not wrap their heads around it."

"Ugh, like that guy with the weird headphones the other day." She shudders.

Your new friend. KALEIDOSCOPE.

"Oh, him. I know him."

"You do?" She frowns. "Why is he like that?"

"Terminal case of LASS."

"...Oh. That's so... sad?"

"Oh!" She grabs her friend's arm. "Maybe that's why Ultra Violeta's been missing all this time! Maybe the weird headphones guy kidnapped her and he's keeping her songs all for himself!"

Interesting theory. A popstar of that magnitude is a powerful piece on the board.

"You sure he just wasn't a weird fan?"

"Not weird, scary. He was obsessed, like obsessed."

"No way! But he looked so old... wait no actually that's so chic. That fits."

"It's unreal. Like, almost the exact embodiment of the moonglow spirit."

You've lost them.

"Wait wait, slow down..."

"No, that's it, case closed. He was obsessed."

"Consumerist psychosis. Obsess, then possess."

"That doesn't sound that psychotic..."

"He's an ardent devotee of Ultra Violeta.."

"That's very understandable." She nods.

"He just likes nice things. Totally normal."

"Right... I guess too much is the normal amount to love L-pop."

"He definitely does know more about her than you do."

"No, he doesn't. No one does."

A twinge, right behind your eyes.

Your pineal gland. Telling you to wake up.

"What was weird about him?"

"He came up to us out of nowhere and said 'In some territories, impersonating the monarch is a crime punishable by death'. Death!"

So this headphones guy acknowledges the regency of Ultra Violeta.

"He was an Ultra Violeta fan?"

"He didn't say 'fan', he said 'devotee'."

"That's not scary, that's just a fun fact."

"He said we looked like we'd been bootlegged from a bootleg and that we didn't understand Ultra Violeta. Us! Not understand!"

"Maybe he was just warning you not to go abroad like that."

"He wasn't. You didn't see his face. It was like he wanted us to die."

"He sounds like an obsessive."

"I don't have weird headphones. I'm not a guy. I can totally get it!"

"He was so weird."

"Was he creeping on your costumes?"

"No. Maybe? I couldn't tell. He was so weird."

"You look like two spare dopes."

"That's very ignorant, you don't even know us."

"You look like a negation of the human spirit. Fuck off."

"I respect the time and effort you've put in."

"That means a lot."

"Whatever."

"Can I also shift along with you? I can be post career UV."

"Uh..."

"No. In fact, stay where you are, I don't want people mistaking us for some kind of trio."

"Do you recognise this Ultra Violeta track?" (Show them the red disc.)

"'Dream'..." She reads the scrawl on the disc. "That's the new cancelled song -- 'You But From a Dream'. It can't be a real recording though, the audio engineer died and all the copies had to be destroyed."

"No, he didn't, that was just some rumour. Or like... a metaphor."

"I listened to it, it was kinda painful."

"It... was? Wait... is this a real recording of 'YBFAD'?"

"I bet it's just more bootlegged fake stuff."

"Died of what?"

"Happiness, probably. I bet it was amazing." She hesitates. "Wait... what if this one is real?"

"Well, maybe this copy made it out."

"Why do you have that? How did you get that? That's secret UV lore -- not for someone like you."

They think you're uncool. Maybe someone at the bazaar can help you teen up your style.

The adolescents will only open up to those they recognise as their own. This may call for a disguise.

"I bet you guys know more about this Ultra Violeta track than I do." (Show them the red disc.)

"Oh yeah, Ultra Violeta. Know all her songs." (Lie.)

"Oh yeah? What's your favourite?"

"The one about the... moon... and its glow..."

"'Cover the Moon When I'm Gone'?... her most popular song?" She raises an eyebrow. "We know her entire discography. Even the unreleased stuff she did for her high school play."

"Nobody understands except the Ultras."

"They're all so good. A real fan wouldn't ask me to choose."

"Deep. But we're bigger fans than you. We know her entire discography. Even the unreleased stuff she did for her high school play."

"The one about her ex-boyfriend, obviously."

"What? UV doesn't write about downstream stuff like that."

"Fake fan! Fake fan!" Screeching like a banshee. "We know everything. Even the unreleased stuff she did for her high school play."

"I've met V. We're pals."

"I told you to shut it! No, you haven't! I will fucking kill you!"

"Shh, shh. It's fine." She steadies her friend and looks into her eyes. "Don't let her get to you. Think moonglow thoughts."

"Shut your lying whore mouth."

"Stop talking like that! UV would never." She turns to you. "But yeah, you're being a lying whore and you should shut your mouth."

"So, Ultra Violeta is missing?"

"Weren't we just talking about that? Kidnapped for sure."

"And you think this weird headphone guy has her?"

"Total crime of passion. I bet he's making her sing for him..." She holds her fingers to her heart in a 'V'.

"I wouldn't mind too bad if he kidnapped us," she giggles.

In their minds, completely unable to conceive of anyone who would want to bring harm to their idol, the only possible explanation is a romantic one.

"I'm sure she'll be okay, don't worry."

"You don't know that. You don't have to lie to us just because we're younger than you. We live in the world too."

"If she is dead -- unlikely -- there's nothing more moonglow than dying young and tragic."

"You really aren't worried?"

"We would know if anything really bad had happened to her."

"The Ultras would all feel it."

So assured of their connection to her that their own emotional experience has assimilated that of their idol.

"How about nearly dying young and tragic? Is that moonglow?"

They descend into laughter.

We all think it would have been a lot cooler if we'd bit the big one together back in 81.

"Why would anybody kidnap her?"

"It's romantic, obviously."

Shit, these kids are freäks.

"Wait -- how do I know you didn't kidnap her?"

"Weak. How do you know we aren't Ultra Violeta?"

THE MID-YOUTHS ARE VERBALLY OUT-MANOEUVRING YOU. QUICK, RETORT.

"The People's labour camps would make short work of you and your idol."

"Labour... what? We already go to school."

"I don't like camping. Uncomfy."

"Because I'm Ultra Violeta."

"Wow! Such an honour to meet you, even if you have let yourself go so badly that you look kinda like a dishrag,"

"Because you're two people obviously -- at least one's a fraud."

"Oh wow. She can count."

"I already dissolved her remains in an acid vat."

"Lame. I'd have eaten them."

"There's nothing romantic about violating consent."

"You sound like my dad."

"There's just no moonglow way to squat. Moonglow is tragic, elegant. You can only convey aesthetic heartbreak in missionary."

"I just got kidnapped and tied up myself, incidentally."

"Was it hot? Did they start with your ass or your mouth?"

"Or abducted. Aliens using her as a sad singing fuck-glove."

"Hm. What kind of aliens?"

"Tentacles. She's up there getting slimed hardcore in zero gravity... Lucky bitch."

"Allow me to blow your mind. She's in Portofiro. I met her."

"What did I tell you about your lying whore mouth? Shut it."

"I hate liars."

"By counter cultural radicals, right?"

Alternative wording

"I heard it was actually counter cultural radicals that nabbed her."

"I heard that too. My brother says they're going to come for us next."

It would be the most interesting thing that will ever happen to her.

"Maybe you should stop dressing like that."

"It's fine. Like I said, bad stuff just doesn't happen to people who are that pretty."

"The horrors aren't all they're cracked up to be."

"I'd take whatever horrors over televised pelota and fried corn."

"You don't believe it?"

"Nah. If they were protesting or whatever then they'd say so -- radicals are always yelling."

"Yeah. It's been a few weeks now... I really hope she's not dead."

"She'll be back, she's probably just hiding from all the publicity. Or it's all a promo thing for 'YBFAD'. Or she got kidnapped!"

"You guys are very mean."

"You need it. You deserve it. Look at your hair."

"She's harsh but if she weren't a little horrible to you then you might never know. So it's a kindness, really."

THE MID-YOUTHS ARE TEARING YOU TO SHREDS. IF THIS IS LUZ'S NEW FRONT, REVOLUTION MAY NEED TO RESTART.

"Speak to me of these 'Ultras' you represent."

"Ultras are ultra fans of Ultra Violeta. It's a lifestyle commitment. Some of us have even died for this."

"Respect for the martyred Ultras."

They both strike the same stiff pose and 'V' -shaped salute.

"RIP." (Strike it back at them.)

"RIP."

"How did they die?"

"Mass suicide. So chic."

THE PARTY'S STATISTICIANS HAVE ATTESTED THAT SO-CALLED 'SUICIDE EPIDEMICS', THOUGH REGRETTABLE, PROVIDE A PERFECTLY NATURAL AND OFTEN FORTUITOUS METHOD OF POPULATION CONTROL.

"They didn't even have to plan, they just heard the lyrics and knew... it was time to jump off the balcony of their parents' apartment building."

Time slows as the world falls towards her. The descent is still too fast, but just long enough for a single thought: 'Why am I doing this?'

"We live on the ground floor. I'd have to, like, slit my throat or something. Messy."

PSEUDOPOD didn't seem like a suicide, but he was listening to the UV disc when he died.

"I think that might have just happened to someone I know."

"Nah. It was just one live performance on the radio a few years ago. Lucky bitches."

"The lyrics can't be that bad."

"It's because they're good, you slut. One radio performance so moving that everybody had to literally die. Lucky bitches."

"That's really disturbing."

"It was only that one live performance on the radio a couple of years ago. Wish I'd heard it..."

"Why do you listen to music that makes people suicidal?"

"It was only that one time, don't worry. Live recording on the radio, summer 94. Wish I'd been there..."

"Killed by the rhythm. It happens."

"Not like this. This was way chicer. Mass suicide."

"Random acts of self-annihilation are not unheard of in the Ultra community." She nods formally.