Syzygy is a fictive original story centered around a young girl named Solis (pronounced ‘sew•lee’) who grew up in a musically-inclined household. This is a strange love story in which she falls in love with her mother.
This is the first of 3 total parts of the story, and I intend to make a casual, NSFW simulation style game that takes place after the course of these events.
See the end of the story for various notes and trivia.
Contents in this story
By ear
“You might be better than I was at your age.”
“God, I wish.”
“I mean it. You grasped a lot of this stuff way quicker than I did.”
I try to focus on playing the next riff to stop myself from smiling.
“I wanna do somethin’ like this for the song, too, but I can’t get it right.”
Mom laughs and I can’t help it. I smile.
“Your playing… It reminds me so much of Ipoemia.”
…
Huh?
“… What? Not like yours??”
“No, not at all, really.
You take after her in almost every way when it comes to music. I think it’s sweet.”
She laughs and keeps talking as if she didn’t just drop the most dogshit take I’ve ever heard in my life.
My fingers tense. Fumbling. I don’t know what she’s rambling about. I can’t think anymore.
“I’m done practicing now.”
And I set the guitar aside. Mom takes the hint, kisses me on the forehead and leaves to make dinner.
I scramble to the desk as soon as she’s gone. Tap away at the laptop.
One simple search: Ipoemia nil.
It feels so gross to even type the letters. Nausea rising. I can almost feel it in my throat.
Videos from over 20 years ago. I click on one.
…
That fucking woman.
Except she’s not a woman in the video. Probably my age.
Lame.
My band looks nothing like those losers.
Another video.
She’s singing in an auditorium. Old, shitty cellphone quality.
Another video. Biting my lip.
Rigid guitar. Rushed tempo on drums. Stupid strobe lights.
Slamming the lid on my laptop. Really trying to breathe.
Pacing the room. Sniffling.
Mom was right.
So I didn’t go home the next day.
Or the day after.
All these years I did everything I could to stay away from that woman. Never spoke to her. Never in the same room as her. Never even look at her.
But I ended up making the same kind of music as her.
Why would mom even tell me something like that?
I stay out late as late as I can for practices. Azzie’s the only one who stays with me. Said I could stay over at her place if I wanted. She treats it like it’s a fun vacation. A sleepover.
Her parents talk with my mom every night to let them know I’m safe. And every night they tell me I should talk with my moms again. I should go home. That if I stay over for another night, they’ll drop me off at home afterwards.
No more sleepovers.
Now I walk through the best part of town, near the riverfront. Battery low, but Azzie messages me. Swore she wouldn’t tell anyone where I am. About to call her, but someone says my name. Soft and quiet.
“Solis… Your mother and I have been looking all over for you.”
What the hell.
She pulls out her phone and starts to dial.
“NO!! STOP!!
IF YOU TELL HER WHERE I AM, I’LL KILL MYSELF.”
Anything to make her to stop!!
She freezes.
“I’LL DO IT.
AND I’LL SMASH MY PHONE FIRST SO YOU’LL NEVER FIND ME.”
“Alright…”
“Don’t call her!!”
“I won’t call her.”
She speaks slowly, turns the phone to show me the screen.
No call in progress.
“Will you talk to me?”
“…”
“We have to work together to resolve this–whatever this is that you’re going through.
I want to hear you out.”
“…”
“Did something happen?
Why haven’t you come home?”
This really won’t go away unless I say something…
“I was just… mad…”
“’Mad?’
At what?”
I tell her about what mom said.
“I see…
I take it you did not appreciate the… comparison.”
She pauses.
“But it’s true. Your mother and I always felt that the music you make sounds so remarkably similar to Ipoemia nil.
To be honest, it makes m-”
“Stop!!”
I don’t wanna be anything like her!
“Solis, why does that bother you so much?”
But she already knows the answer. So she asks a different question.
“Why do you hate me?”
“Because you’re fake!“
Mom played in a band when she was younger. That woman did, too. Mom’s band seemed so fun and free. She’s shown me so many pictures and so many behind-the-scenes recordings from their time together. They were so cool.
Alba’s group were snotty assholes.
I like when mom tells me stories from her time in a band, but whenever the story involves Alba, things always seemed to go bad. Alba always made things worse on mom.
I’m not even making it up. Mom admitted to me that Alba used to be pretty mean back then. I don’t know how she ever tolerated her.
I don’t know why she ended up with her.
I hate it.
I say all of this to her.
And she sighs.
“I admit, I was not the… friendliest… in my youth. I understand that, now.
I wasn’t easy to work with. I only ever did what I thought was best for myself in the moment–even if it was selfish and put a burden on others. I was young and naive. I don’t know what your mother saw in me, but I am grateful every day for her.”
“…”
“I want to assure you that I am no longer the impertinent child from the stories you’ve heard. I’ve done a lot of growing, and I’ve come to learn a degree of… emotional tact.
And I promise to you that there is no façade. I came out here searching for you because I wanted to. Because I care about you.”
What does she even want me to say to that??
She speaks again after a moment of silence.
“Why is it that you don’t wish to have your mother here with you right now?”
“It’s embarrassing, I don’t know…”
I don’t want to see that look on mom’s face. I don’t wanna see how upset she is. How disappointed I made her.
The woman stands up.
“It’s getting late. We should go home. We can explain everything to your mother.”
“No!! I can’t!! I…”
She won’t try to drag me back, will she? I swear I’ll do it. I’ll scream. If she tries anything I swear I’ll kill myself.
“Please. Give me a moment to speak with your mother. I promise I won’t tell her where we are, but I need to let her know that you’re safe.
Don’t go anywhere.”
She steps away to call mom. They talk for a long time. So long that I get bored. Try to check my phone, but the battery is dead.
Eventually, their conversation ends and she walks over to me.
“Come with me.”
“I’m not going home!!”
“We aren’t going home.”
Stelled
“You didn’t have to follow me up here.”
I guess this is what they agreed on. She booked a hotel room for the night since I refused to go home. I hope she didn’t tell mom about the threats I made. It’d be embarrassing.
I duck away into the bathroom. Take a shower. Stall for time so I can finally be alone. At least I have the spare pajamas from Azzie that I can change into.
But that woman is still in the room when I leave the bathroom.
She’s sitting on the edge of the bed, sipping from a coffee cup.
“This one’s for you.”
She offers a cup to me. She hasn’t taken her eyes off of the TV the entire time.
“I don’t drink coffee.”
“They’re hot chocolates.
Yours has marshmallows.”
Mom must have told her.
I take the drink.
“This show is so much different now… It no longer takes place during an everlasting winter…”
How long does she even plan on staying here??
But more importantly…
“… You know about Nutcracker??”
I shouldn’t have said anything, but the curiosity would’ve killed me faster than I could ever kill myself.
“Of course. This show first aired when I was your age.
But they changed so many details in this new version… Why do they have jobs, now? How come Santa isn’t a rat anymore? And why are they roommates?”
She looks so serious.
I want to shut up. Stay in my lane and leave this alone.
But I love the Nutcracker.
“At the start of the season… they made their own community and just copied what they saw other humans doing to be normal. So they got jobs.
…They didn’t do anything like this in the original show?”
“No. They took over Santa’s workshop and resided at the North Pole.”
“That sounds boring.”
She shakes her head.
“No, it wasn’t.
They often left the premises for adventures, but they always returned to the familiar and comforting place they called ‘home’.”
Sounds really stupid.
“I’ll shower, next.”
She says after standing up.
“Here??”
“Yes. Think of this as… a sleepover.”
...
Great.
Another episode of the Nutcracker show plays. Another rerun. My phone is charged, so I complain to Azzie.
[Image transcript]
Text conversation between Solis and Azzie
Azzie: At least you have somewhere to stay tonight! ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-
Solis: don’t wanna be here with HER though
Azzie: Is there a pool
Solis: ?
Azzie: You can still have fun if you go swim! ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ – ˵ ) ✧
Solis: already showered
Azzie: Oh no!!
Whatever. She wouldn’t get it.
That woman exits from the bathroom wearing a hotel-branded bathrobe. I can smell a sweet, flowery scent from her. Strong, but not overwhelming. The lotion in there didn’t smell anything like that when I used it. She must have had something on her. I won’t ask.
She makes her way to the other side of the room–to the sliding door of the balcony.
“I need to step out for a moment. To call your mother.”
I guess I made a face, because she says,
“I won’t have her come here. I promise.
I have to keep her informed and let her know how we are faring.”
I have no choice but to believe her.
Don’t know where I am. Commotion outside. Rumbling and running. Banging, talking, thumping, yelling. Is someone out there? Don’t let them in. Please don’t come in. Please don’t come. I’m tired. I’m so pathetic and my body is heavy.
Deep breaths. No sound comes out.
Trying over. Again and again. Big, deep breath. All the air in the world. Let it out just to make a whisper.
It’s all I can do.
I’m so pathetic. I’m so pathetic. I’m so pathetic.
…
“Solis??”
She shakes me so much, but I can move again. Gasping to breathe even though I didn’t do anything. I don’t remember falling asleep, but I’m happy it wasn’t real.
She touches my cheek.
“I’m sorry. Did I frighten you?”
“No… It’s okay.”
So stupid.
“Did you have a nightmare?”
“No… I don’t know…
It just happens sometimes…”
She bites her lip.
“I wasn’t aware that you experienced this. Your mother never told me.”
“… I only told her about it once.”
It’s too scary and weird, so I try not to think about it. I usually forget about it in the morning anyways, so it’s not worth it.
She pulls me closer to her.
“It helps to not sleep on your back.
Like this. It’s what your mother does.”
Sweet and flowery.
I close my eyes.
“It shouldn’t happen again. Try to sleep now.”
And warm.
“Yeah… Mommy….”
“…”
Concent
Waking up with my face full of her breasts. I move away and roll to the other side of the bed. At least she’s still sleeping.
I read through the group chat and scroll through my feeds for the next half hour before she wakes up. We get dressed and go out for breakfast. She asks if I’m ready to go back home.
I don’t know how to answer.
She tells me we don’t have to go back right away. ‘We can mill about in town’. Who even talks like that?
It’s nice being near the riverfront though. Window-shopping, snacking, and talking. For hours. She wants to visit the grocery store for a few things. Wants to help make something nice once we’re home.
This is the most time I’ve ever spent with her.
Ever.
I don’t think we’ve ever had a real conversation before any of this happened. And now we’re doing stuff like going on walks. And shopping. Together. The kind of stuff she she would’ve only done with mom, I guess. Couple stuff. Weird.
But I can’t stop thinking about it.
I walk so close to her. Talk about boring ingredients. Tell her what I like and don’t want. She smiles sometimes when I speak.
I think this is the kind of stuff couples do.
But we don’t hold hands.
And then we’re done with the store. Already outside and planning the route back before I even realize. But I don’t want it to end. Not yet, at least. I still want to pretend.
So I stop walking. And she stops and turns.
“One more? One more night, please?”
She’s quiet.
“Are you referring to the hotel?”
“Yeah… Can’t we just stay out here? Just one more night? Please?”
“I… I should speak with your mother, first.”
She talks to mom. Too nervous to listen in. It’s a long discussion. They talk for ages, but eventually…
“She says she’s fine with it, but for this extra night only.
She misses you, Solis. She wishes you’d talk to her.”
“I know…”
I miss her too.
We return to the same hotel for another night. She stores the groceries in the minifridge. Winding down. Another shower. This feels like more couple stuff. Like we’re a couple out on vacation.
“I’m certain she will greet us with freshly cookies when we return.”
“Yeah, maybe.
I hope they’re chocolate.”
“I’m partial to her gingerbread. I could eat it for every meal and never tired of it.”
Weird. Can’t relate.
“Gingerbread’s okay, I guess…”
“That’s right, you enjoy decorating gingerbread more than eating it.”
There she goes, again. Mom must’ve told her about that, too. How much do I even come up in conversation? Do they talk about me a lot??
“Your mother has been very pleased with the fact that we’ve been spending so much time together.
She sees it as the only silver lining in the situation.”
Laying down like this is also what couples do. I wonder if this is the same view mom has every night when they go to bed together..?
“Solis?”
“Huh?”
“Are you alright?”
I don’t know what to say right now. She looks worried.
“I… I don’t know…”
I say, just to say anything. She touches my face.
“What’s wrong? You can tell me.”
I avert my eyes.
“I feel weird…”
She touches her hand to my forehead. Probably to check for a fever?
“Tell me more how you feel.”
“I feel… stupid…”
A frown.
“Why would you say that?”
Because I want to……….
……… think of her as my lover.
She makes a small, startled sound. I don’t want to see the look on her face, so I keep my eyes closed. Bury my face into her neck.
“You…”
A silence.
…
“……. Can I do it again? Please?”
She hasn’t said anything else. I bet she thinks I’ll hate her again if she says no. I don’t know if I would.
I’m so scared, but maybe it’s a good sign that she hasn’t pushed me away. I open my eyes.
“Solis, we can’t–“
She stops speaking and gasps when I decide to kiss her on the neck. I kind of like the sound she made. I wonder if mom has done anything like this with her before?
“I think I might like you.”
“You can’t mean that.
I understand that you’ve had to navigate a lot of… complex emotions lately. You’re confused.”
This sounds worse than a rejection.
“This isn’t appropriate.”
Please don’t say that.
“I like you.”
I sound so pathetic.
“You can’t.”
But I want to.
So I lean down.
And I kiss her again.
And she lets me.
Maybe because she’s just as ‘confused’ as I am.
She only said a few things after that.
“You can’t”… “No”… “We shouldn’t“…
But she never stopped me. She never pushed me away. Or yelled. Or got upset.
She let me kiss her, and touch her wherever I wanted.
I didn’t have to pretend that she was my lover.
Keep
“Thank God.
Don’t you ever do anything like that ever again!”
“Yeah, sorry…”
Feeling a little embarrassed from all the attention. But Alba was right. Mom simply missed me above all else.
She sits us down to talk. We talk about the reason why I left. About what I did while I was away. About what we did after Alba found me. Alba didn’t mention any of that extra stuff we did last night, so neither did I.
It’s weird to think that things could be “normal” again. Scared that mom might barge into my room and yell at me for what we did that night. But it never happens. She doesn’t look at me differently. Doesn’t act weird around me. I guess Alba is keeping it secret.
One night, mom is too busy in her office room, so Alba cooks for dinner.
“Do you need any help..?”
“… Yes, I would appreciate it.”
I’ve never felt so shy around her.
I help with some ingredients. Whisking eggs and cutting peppers. She drains something over the sink and I hug her around the waist. She looks around, as if scared that mom will show up and see.
“Be careful.”
I nod, even though she can’t see it.
“You smell good.”
It’s just like from the hotel.
“I haven’t done anything differently.”
She lets me hold her like this for a long time.
Then she says she has to keep an eye on the oven, otherwise the food won’t come out so good. So I let go.
Later on that night, mom comes into my room and sits on the bed. So freaking nervous!! Is this it? But she just tells me again how glad she is that I’m back home. And also ‘DON’T ever do anything like that again.’ She’s said this a billion times already.
“Seriously. The only reason you haven’t been grounded is because this whole thing brought the two of you together. It’s nice to finally see you getting along.”
“I get it.”
“I mean it. I can’t tell you how happy that makes me–and her, too.”
“Wait, really?”
“Mhm.
I know it looks like nothing bothers her, but she was always hurt by the way you treated her. It was hard.”
“Oh…”
It’s not really my fault, but I still feel a little bad. I think it makes sense that you wouldn’t like a person if you knew they used to be so shitty before. But now…
“Sorry…”
“Don’t apologize to me. Apologize to her.”
I nod.
She kisses me on the head and says goodnight.
Cheironomy
I spend all my free time practicing with the band for the contest next month. We hang out after school, at the rehearsal studio, sometimes at Azzie’s place. I’m barely at home. If the band can’t meet up, then I only come home to practice in the music room. I’m not actually trying to avoid them or anything this time. I think they get it.
A week before the competition and still arguing with Vesper about how we should play during the bridge. Flip a coin and we do it her way.
Night of the contest. Third place. $20 gift card.
I told her we would have done so much better if we did it my way. She won’t admit it.
Azzie’s parents drops me off at home. Tired, but I can’t sleep.
Playing in the music room. Trying to get a good recording to send to Vesper so I can show her I was right.
Trying for at least an hour.
I don’t think that’s happening.
A hand on my shoulder.
“You’re back so late. How was your performance?”
She looks sleepy. Must have just woken up.
“It was alright. We got third place.”
“I see. I’m sorry to hear.”
Why the hell would she say that??
“We had fun.”
“Oh. That’s nice, then.”
She lingers for a few moments.
“We can talk about it more in the morning. Your mother would love to hear about it as well.”
“W-Wait! Mom!!”
The perfect opportunity!
“There’s this song I’ve been working on and I want you to hear it.
… Are you too tired?”
“No, that’s fine. I can listen.”
She sits across from me and I play. A song I quickly put together about making mistakes. And showing appreciation. A song to say ‘I’m sorry.’
She’s listening so seriously. It wasn’t even long, but she’s still thinking, even when it’s over.
No idea what to do.
“Uh, mom, I’m s–“
“Thank you.”
Trying not to cry in front of her.
“Sorry.”
“I know.”
She wipes my face.
I hate to say it, but I don’t think she deserved it anymore–the way I used to treat her all this time.
“It was a lovely song and you conveyed your emotions very clearly. I’m proud of you.”
She sniffles. I set the guitar aside. I want to sit on her lap, so I do it. Arms draped over her shoulders. I kiss her.
I try to kiss her on the neck, but…
“Not there. Your mother will see.”
So stupid.
“You can do this, instead…”
She takes my hand. Guides it down between her legs. Shows me how I should touch her.
I think it feels good. She squirms and sighs. Runs her fingers through my hair.
She says ‘I love you.’
I love her too.
I rest my head on her chest and lick the wetness off my fingers.
*yawn*
Who’s still awake in there?
End of part 1
Retrospective
Thank you to all that have read this story. I’d like to vomit some tho(ugh)ts and trivia
There will be 2 more iterations of Syzygy, for a total of 3 parts. The content (warnings) in each part will ramp up exponentially, but so will the humour! Yay!
I like writing in first person for original characters and scenarios. I consider Zombie by Joyce Carol Oates to be a great source of inspiration for me. It’s a story told from the point of view of a mentally unwell individual who has an obsession with young boys. The main character in that story wishes to perform lobotomies on young boys in order to create his perfect zombie. Most of his attempts are unsuccessful with fatal consequences.
I really like the writing style of the book. It doesn’t feel like you are reading through an individual’s well-formed thoughts. It really feels like you have been dropped inside the mind of this unhinged creature. The narration is cut and dry. Scattered. Constant. Like you are reading actual transcripts of a person’s stream of conscious. I liked it. I was inspired to write the conscious of an ignorant teen thanks to this book.
Back to my story, Alba formed the band Ipoemia nil in her youth. I felt really clever because I decided that the name of the group would be stylized as “Ip∅emia“, but pronounced as “Ipomoea nil“. However, I had no opportunity to convey this information. So I wasted time coming up with all of that (and yes, i originally wanted her name to be Alba Ipomoea, but felt that was too on-the-nose).
And finally, despite the fact that this ‘Vesper’ character is only briefly mentioned to convey the protagonists frustrations, I ended up really falling in love with the name and the potential. So I fleshed her out a bit and already outlined her role in the sandbox-style simulation game, hehe.
Lovely little creature 
send me your thots and prayers