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“You ready for this?” Hunk laughs, tossing the DVD he was holding to his right where a brown haired teen catches it. He watches with a playful grin as his friend opens the case and slides the DVD into their DVD player. “Pidge, what if it’s some sort of home video. Maybe children playing or an alien abduction or - DUDE, what if it’s a sex tape?!” He starts laughing harder as his friend moves to elbow him in the ribs.
“Well aren’t you just a barrel of laughs,” Pidge says, rolling their eyes. “But it could be - I mean; we did find it in the floorboards of your parents’ home. So, you’re right, it could easily be a sex tape your parents decided to ma-”
“Okay, okay, enough! I meant someone else’s sex tape. I don’t want to think about that!” It’s Pidge's turn to laugh as their friend covers his ears and starts humming to himself, eyes squeezed shut. They stands up from where they were sitting in front of the TV and walks towards Hunk, sitting down on the leather couch beside him. They nudge Tommy with their foot as the TV screen lights up and prompts them for a command.
“Oh, come on, Hunk, I’m sure it’s not your parent’s s-“
“Say it again and I will not let you eat any of my mom's lasagne tomorrow night.” Hunk growls, eyes narrowing at his friend.
“-video.” Pidge grins, “Anyways, when was the last time DVD’s were actually used. Like, what, forty years ago? Your parents probably hadn’t even met yet. You’re just lucky my family likes the old stuff and that we found this to pass the time instead of listening to the news some more.”
Hunk looks over at him, feigning ignorance. “Wait, you mean you don’t want to hear the newswoman’s ‘continuing coverage of the mysterious outbreak’?!”
“I know, it’s shocking,” Pidge replies as they reach for the remote. “Besides, Allura lives on fourth street and we’ve been texting her for the past two days. If anything was up, we’d know about it by now because she would have spared no expense to tell us.” Pidge watches as Hunk opens his mouth to retort, but raises a hand quickly, stopping him. “Uh-uh, nope, not thinking about that. Just start the video already!” They turn back to the TV as Hunk pouts and voices the play command.
When it doesn’t immediately start to play he repeats himself and frowns. Pidge starts to snicker and throws the remote into their lap. “It’s a DVD, you idiot. Voice commands don’t work on it so you have to use this weird contraption to get it to work. You know, the remote.” He grins as Hunk picks up the remote and gives him the finger, turning back to the TV. They both relax further into the couch and throw their legs up onto the hovering footstool in front of them as Hunk points the remote at the TV and clicks play.
“Good job, dude, I knew you could figure out how to work it!”
Pidge cackles as they are met with Hunk's glare and turns back to the screen as it begins to brighten. They both watch as a room comes into view and take in the scene showing before them. It looks like a bedroom; a bed pushed into a corner and a desk is seen poking out on the side of the screen.
Pidge grins and nudges Hunk. “Sex tape.”
Hunk glares at them and then continues to watch, noticing as the tape focuses more readily now and shuffling can be heard. Pictures are plastered to the wall above the bed in an almost collage-type style and a few movie posters are hanging as well. Pidge squints and is able to make out two of them, The Flash and Black Panther. Before either one of them have time to make out any of the others a figure comes into view, pulling a rolling chair behind him. He settles the chair in the middle of the recording frame and sits down heavily in it, his hands resting over his face and his body slumped over. Hunk and Pidge give each other a questioning glance then redirect their attention to the screen as they hear the figure sigh. The first thing both boys notice about this person is his face. His eyes are a dark, brilliant blue and the camera focuses in on them as they contrast sharply to his darker skin tone. They say nothing to each other as he starts to talk.
“Is this on? Okay, I think it is. There’s a green light flashing at the top. I’m assuming that means it’s good.” He takes a breath and runs a shaky hand through his hair. “To whoever sees this, hi. My name is Lance McClain and I'm currently living in Washington state in the US. I’m doing this video recording for a reason and that reason is Keith. Now, I’ll get back to Keith because that is what is the most important thing here but I don’t know who will see this or when they’ll see it or,” he pauses for a brief moment, “or if anyone will see this. If anyone does see this, I need you to know what happened in 2047. So here we go.”
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Lance could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he stared at the videoboard before him and, if he wasn’t in such a God-awful situation he would probably laugh at how crappy he looked. The best way he could think of to describe his current state of being would be ‘that one college student that pulled a four-day all-nighter now they’re about to drop dead’ look. Yeah, he thought, that’s it. I was a college student once. I know. I should know. He focused his eyes back on his reflection and he looked down at the paper in his hands and continued where he had left off.
“Six days ago the local hospital got quarantined off from what we were told was a highly infectious and dangerous disease. That was all that we were told about this and we accepted it and avoided the area. Five days ago the four blocks surrounding the hospital in each direction were quarantined along with it without notice. We were told that someone that lived nearby had contracted the disease but it was all being taken care of. Some of us questioned the authority telling us this but most just thanked them for helping prevent the disease from spreading. Keith was in this quarantine zone and I immediately texted him to see if he was okay. He said that he was. I promised him that I would help him in any way I could and that he’d be fine. We’d just been on a date the night before. Of course he’d be fine. Four days ago my family woke up and made breakfast like normal. Dad pulled out of the driveway to go to work the next city over and returned two hours later, panicking. The quarantine zone now surrounded our town; they had put up electric fencing and walls, forming a fifty-foot gap between us and the rest of the world.” Lance paused as his hands began to shake and he felt the hot pinpricks of tears begin to form and cloud his vision. He took a deep breath and he started talking again, his voice getting huskier as his emotions grew.
“People panicked just like my Dad did. They tried to find answers and flocked to the edges of the Zone. We didn’t know what had happened or why we were in the quarantine zone and, when people had time to think about the disease, we realized we didn’t even know what it was or what it did. Three days ago the national guard and CDC showed up, joining the few who already occupied the other side of the fences and walls, and set up headquarters on the other side of the Zone. People tried to storm the walls to escape. We still didn’t know why they had trapped us and they used tear gas and rubber bullets to divert the crowd away. It worked. Two days ago we started figuring out what this mysterious disease was when the young and the old started to forget. I guess they forgot first because their brains were the weakest or something like that. I don’t mean forgetting as in they forgot where they put their keys, I mean forgetting as in they no longer recognized some of their friends and family. My younger siblings, Keni and Terra,” Lance realized that the words now sounded foreign on his tongue and felt his muscles tense, “They began to forget too and by the end of the day...By the end of that day my parents didn’t know who I was.” He blinked quickly and scrunched up his face as a sob wracked his body. He took a half breath and collected himself just long enough to choke out one more sentence, “Yesterday I forgot them.”
He started to openly cry then. He knew how this was going to end and it hurt. It hurt so badly. The only reason he could tell all of this to the video was because he had kept a journal for the past year and that past year included each day in this hellish place. Wait, was it hellish? God, he didn’t even know. At least he knew Keith kept a journal too. He wouldn’t be alone. He looked back down at the now dampened paper he was holding. He had torn it where it had softened due to his tears and he realized that he could no longer read the name of one of the siblings he had mentioned. What had it been? The other one was Terra but the first one. He couldn’t read it. He couldn’t remember.
“DAMMIT,” he half yelled, half sobbed, crumpling the piece of paper in his fist and throwing it as hard as he could against the wall.
His wall. This was his room and his house but everything was foreign. Everything. He could no longer remember his family and reading through his journals he felt no recognition at all. It was as if he was reading a memoir of some stranger he met on the street and he hated it. He didn’t know what to do. Others didn’t have this problem. Others didn’t keep journals or video blogs that they could read at night and learn about exactly what had happened in the past week but he just had to be one of those people. He knew what had happened. It didn’t truly feel like it had happened to him but he knew. He knew the truth. His memories weren’t there, he was forgetting. All that he seemed to be able to recollect today was the basics needed for survival, his name, where his journals were, and Keith.
He was luckier than some – he snorted at the thought, where did he get the idea that any of this was lucky – because he still remembered someone from his past life. From what he had gathered by his entries in his journals, most everyone had forgotten everything. His tears were still flowing hotly and he quickly blinked them away, trying to picture Keith. That would calm him down. A memory of someone he knew. Someone he remembered.
Sharp, black eyes, a nicely shaped face, hair the color of…of…NO. Lance squeezed his eyes tighter, breath coming in shorter gasps as he felt himself panic. What color hair did Keith have? He had to know, he had to. Keith had…he had. Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. His breaths were coming in irregular pants now and he knew that he was starting to hyperventilate but he couldn’t think. He rocked himself back and forth as thought. He knew what color hair Keith had. He did, he needed to know. Keith was his boyfriend. If he didn’t know then that meant, he was losing. He was a bad boyfriend. He would lose himself. They would win the game, those awful people who created this would win the game; Lance felt himself stop his breathing. He had to see Keith. He had to see the person he knew. He stood up and walked unsteadily towards the – his – door. Keith would know what to do, Keith would...he would…he…what? Lance felt his breathing slow and his heartbeat even out. The game, he thought, what game was that? What am I doing?
He looked at the floor beneath him and studied it. It was nothing special, a dark hardwood. It was nice, though, and definitely wasn’t inexpensive. He sat up straighter and looked around the room. Where was he? Why was he in this room? There was a poster on the wall of some movie – glowing sticks and a man in a black costume was plastered on the front, beneath a large heading that read Star Wars. That must be the name of the movie, he thought, examining it. Surrounding the poster were pictures. Pictures of…him? He didn’t remember any of these being taken. Or the people in the pictures. It was obvious that it was him but he didn’t remember anything. That was odd. He studied the photos more closely and noticed that more than half of the photos were of him and another boy. He looked Korean; a few inches shorter than himself, black hair, beautiful dark brown, nearly black eyes to match, and a sharp face. Lance had to admit that whoever he was, he was cute. Still puzzling over the strange photos, he turned away and explored the rest of the room. Nothing else helped him to figure out where he was and he sighed, turning towards the video screen that was hovering over a desk. There was a green light blinking at the top.
“I guess you’re on,” Lance hummed, walking over to it. “Maybe it’s a video feed to someone.” He placed his hand on top of it and leaned down to look directly at the screen, looking for another face. “Hello? Nope, not a video feed. That’s weird. Why would someone leave a video screen on…” He looked more closing at the screen and noticed data points in the top right hand corner, “For forty-five minutes?! Jeez, I guess they left in a rush. Maybe if I replay it I can figure out what I’m doing here and whose room this is. Maybe it’s the Korean guys room.”
Lance smiled at his plan. That would definitely help, he was sure of it. If nothing else, he could learn how he got here. His head was feeling fuzzy and he couldn’t really remember much of anything so anything was better than where he was now. He turned and dragged the chair that was sitting idle behind him over and took a seat. “A rolly chair? Sweet!” he crowed, grinning as he swiveled once in the chair. His day was already perking up. With that, he turned back to the video screen and clicked back to the history screen, choosing the video that was recorded, and still recording, today, and clicked play.
______________________________________________
Pidge and Hunk watch it all and when it is done, they both stay perfectly still. They had seen Lance re-watch the tape he had recorded just an hour earlier and watched as his emotions were shredded once again. They watch as his stillness turns to nervous laughter and then tears and then to anger. Lance had thought it must have been a joke until he realized it made sense with everything else that he saw around him. He had then gone back and watched more video logs. They didn’t know what was in those, could only see Lance and hear what he said and cried while watching the videos in disbelief, before he moved to grab the journal that had been sitting on a shelf behind him. He had read that until he was on the floor, hyperventilating for the second time that day. Casey and Tommy could do nothing but watch. In the last fifteen seconds of the video Lance had suddenly stood up and walked over to the video feed. He looked directly into its lens, stated matter-of-factly, “I’m going to find Keith,” and then ended the feed.
Pidge is first to react. “Shit,” they breath out quietly before jumping to their feet and pulling out their phone, “Shit, Hunk, shit.” They quickly send a text message, their fingers shaking so badly that they almost can’t type.
“Pidge, you need to calm down. There’s no way – I mean, it has to be wrong. It can’t – ” Hunk tries to reassure Pidge, his own voice growing angry the more he speaks. “Pidge, that’s not what happened. It’s a fake. It has to be. You just texted Allura, right?”
“Of course I just texted Allura!” Casey practically growls back, their breaths becoming shorter. “It has to be? Hunk, did you not just watch that? What are we supposed to do?! We can’t just do nothing! We have to, I mean, we need to tell someone!” Pidge pushes their hand behind their head as they pace.
“Tell someone? Tell them what, Pidge? That we found a fifty-six year old DVD that basically showed us what’s about to happen? Who will believe us, Pidge? We’re seventeen. No one will believe us. We just,” he pauses and takes a deep breath. “We just have to wait for Allura to text back. We’ll be fine after that, I know it. I mean, if this was real then there would be documents of it, we, we would know.”
Ding.
Pidge whips their head back around to look at their phone. “It’s Allura,” they state simply. They open their phone and quickly read what she wrote, face slowly draining of color.
“What did she say?” Hunk asks, tone worried at Pidge's reaction.
“She..I mean..I…” Pidge's voice cracks as their hands start shaking.
“Pidge, what did she say?” Hunk stands up and grabs the phone from them, turning the screen and reading the message. His shoulders drop as he reads it and he hears Pidge start to pace. “She doesn’t know who Coran and Shiro are.” The image of Alluras red headed father and dark headed boyfriend flash through Hunk's mind as he stands stock still.
Ding.
He looks back down at the phone in his hand. ‘Who are you, by the way?’
“She doesn’t know who we are.”
“Shit,” Pidge quietly replies, their hands clasped behind their head. “We’re screwed. Hunk, we’re screwed, she’s already forgotten. It’s not a fake video. It’s not a joke. It actually happened. It’s happening again. Shit, Hunk, we’re fu-” He stops abruptly and sharply turns to their personal monitor floating in the corner opposite the TV. “Cora, news channel, now.” The monitor obliges.
“-wall has gone up around all of Altea. We are currently in contact with the authorities and will bring you more news as we know it,” the newswoman states. “For now, please do not panic. There is probably a reason for the expansion of the quarantine zone around the city and we will bring you news as soon as we can. If you are currently calling, know that we are in the process of answering but are swamped with the number of people that are trying to connect for answers. Again, we will bring you news and are in contact with outside authorities. We will update you again in half an hour.”
Hunk and Pidge turn to each other in shock.
“It’s too late,” Pidge whispers. “The wall’s up.”