Chapter Text
Upon seeing Rodimus walk into “Visages” you smiled from your bar stool. For some reason you’d had the School of Rock song, I’m Too Hot for You in your head for the entire day. With Rodimus’ ego and his love for guitars, you had a feeling it would be another piece of Earth media for him to fall in love with.
“Hey, Hot Wheels,” You waved him over with a smile.
He gave you his traditional finger gun greeting, joining you shortly thereafter. “All right, squishy?”
“I will be when you come up with a better nickname for me.”
Rodimus grinned as he leaned against the bar to look over the crowd.
“So, I was thinking of this great song today and-”
“THERE HE IS!” Rodimus’ optics locked onto Tailgate who entered the club on his own. “Gotta go (Y/N).”
It was hard not to feel snubbed as Rodimus ran over to the smaller mech, challenging him to a karaoke contest, wherein the best singer would receive a Rodimus star. You sighed and tried to find your smile as more mechs demanded to be included in the contest. You supposed this was a result of some silly comment or game that Tailgate had started, and as such you decided to bow out; you could always show Rodimus the song later, should he be interested in what you had to say then.
Careful not to be stepped on, you left “Visage’s” just as the first Cheap Trick song started playing.
Clutching your copy of Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief close to your chest, you beamed, eager to share one of Earth’s books with the first ever Lost Light book club. The event had been arranged by Nautica, and she had sent an invite by Datapad.
You couldn’t help smiling at your choice of book; hopefully, it would spark some interest in Greek mythology, which in your opinion should have been even more talked about even on Earth.
“Hey (Y/N),” Nautica smiled, opening her hab-suite door for you. “Perfect timing, I was just about to come look for you.”
“Am I late?” You asked, joining her, Skids, Perceptor, and Rung inside.
“With those teeny tiny legs, always,” Skids chuckled.
“We were just waiting for you to start the discussion,” Rung added.
Perceptor gave a short nod, “Indeed, and as our only human, I am quite interested to hear your opinions first.”
“Really? Alright then. Well, I read the first of the Percy Jackson series, which is a whole new take on the Greek Gods and-”
“Uh (Y/N),” Nautica interrupted. “Didn’t you get my other email?”
“What email?”
“We all decided to read and discuss Supernova’s ‘Mind Over Metal – The Guide to the Subconscious’. I’m sorry, I thought you knew.”
“Oh,” You blushed, thinking how stupid it was of you that a group of such esteemed mechs would ever waste their time on organic fiction. “Right. I’m sorry.”
Nautica patted your back, “You can still stay if you’d like.”
You held up your hands, feeling idiotic as all optics bored into you, “No, no. I’d just be lost. You all enjoy your book club and I’ll sit this one out.”
“Okay. If you would like to join us next week, we’re reading ‘Quantum Mechanics Volume Seven’ by the Afterburner Team. I can send you a link if you want.”
“Sure, that’d be great. I’ll uh- I’ll catch you guys later.”
With burning cheeks, you let yourself out, thinking that you had no place in such a club. There was no way you could catch up with a lifetime of Cybertronian knowledge, nor would you even know where to start with Quantum Mechanics. Perhaps you could still find solace in the works of fiction that took up most of the space in your room, but after that awkward interaction, you had a feeling that reading wouldn’t be the same for a while.
You chewed your lip, frowning as you sketched the final details of everyone in the bar. It was hard to draw a scene when everyone kept moving; it was even harder drawing a room full of Cybertronians who were so different from humans in every way. However, with lots of practice, and a habit of being a perfectionist, you thought you’d done a pretty good job. All the same, an outsider’s opinion would mean the world to you so you could improve in future.
You glanced at Swerve who was stacking crates of energon to your right. Who better to ask about a picture than one of the picture’s subjects?
You held the image up proudly, “Yo Swerve, what do you think of this?”
Upon hearing his name, Swerve tripped over his pedes. The crate of energon fell from his servos, smashing against the bar and soaking you and the picture. Swerve gaped at you, taking a moment before his vocaliser functioned.
“Frag! (Y/N) I- I’m sorry- I just tripped and- Primus! Are you okay?”
You hid your devastation that your hard work had been all for nought as the now unrecognisable paper crumpled in your hands; at least Swerve had the decency to check on you. “Sure, I’m fine. Just a little-”
“Oh good. Well, if you’re okay then I’ve got to clean this mess up. Sorry again (Y/N), I’ll make it up to you.”
“…Wet,” You finished lamely.
Jumping off the bar top, you headed to your room to get changed and think about your life choices.
You sighed heavily, regretting it when the condensation fogged up your space-suit helmet. The helmet soon cleared for you to see the stars above the oil reservoir again, though unlike condensation, nothing could clear the sadness from your mind.
When you first came aboard the Lost Light, you used to avoid the reservoir, finding it a lonely place. However, if recent weeks had taught you anything, it was that loneliness could find you anywhere, even in the most crowded of places.
The novelty that came with being the only human was always bound to wear off, though you had hoped at least some of the bots might still take interest in what you had to say. You couldn’t talk to anyone about this however, without the fear of sounding like a whiny brat.
So maybe life didn’t always turn out according to plan, and sometimes those you cared about most didn’t have time for you. Was that really so bad?
Tears that you couldn’t wipe away made their tracks down your cheeks. Of course it was bad. It didn’t matter that you could rationalise the scenario; all that mattered was the pain that wormed its way into your heart.
How long would it take for anyone to take interest in your opinions again? Would it be too late then? So many people that you had known or at least heard made isolation the final nail in their coffin.
You looked up at the millions of stars in the sky, and as childish as it was, you made a wish. You wished that no matter how painful the upcoming months were, they would not damage you beyond repair. The silence that answered you scared you most of all. Of course wishing on stars wouldn’t help, for they were the loneliest creations of all.