"All right, I think we've had enough for today," Brian sighed, feeling sore after hours in the car. Adeline drove them to a burger joint, where they sat down to eat. A female robot server approached with their meals. Bri felt uneasy as the machine came close, but he didn't react—just let it serve Adeline her smoothie and mashed potatoes, and him a standard burger set.
Seeing his expression, Adeline asked, "How'd you feel about robots becoming part of everyday work?"
"I don't know. Maybe it's not always good. Opportunities for people are shrinking. When I was a kid, my mom asked what I wanted to be when I grew up. But now… maybe we should ask our kids what they can be, instead of what they want."
"Exactly. Robots are stealing part-time jobs everywhere. It's awful seeing unemployment rise. Look at companies in Chongqing—mostly robot workers now. In twenty years, the world will change even more. Half the population might move to Venus colony. I don't hate robots, but people don't use them wisely," Adeline said earnestly.
"Hmm. Makes me wonder what life's like on Venus now—and them blue people on Mars."
"They say the cities there are twice as good as here. I'd love to see it with my own eyes someday," she said, sipping her smoothie happily. "By the way, have you ever seen a ballet performance?"
"Of course! In movies, anyway."
Adeline smirked. "Lucky for you I'm not strict. My family believes every lady should learn ballet—it's considered proper, Actually, for marrying rich and powerful people. I studied ballet too, but I think differently. Preserving old traditions is something I respect, but I don't let it define me." Suddenly, a strand of hair fell across her nose.
"Pfft, pfft—up you go," she puffed air to push it back.
Brian chuckled at her silly gesture. "Ha-ha, life in New-Victorian style really is full of art."
"Victorian times weren't that great. Not worth glorifying y'know."
"True… I agree."
Adeline ate her mashed potatoes, covering her mouth politely each time she chewed. Brian finished his burger in four bites, then gazed at his red car outside, gleaming in the sun. She snapped photos of her food for her profile.
"Do you use social media often, Bri?" she asked.
"Sometimes, but not much. Mostly for news."
"Figures. No wonder you can sit and daydream without getting bored."
"Not at all—I was just thinking about repainting the car," he said quickly. After she finished her meal, they left together.
"So, who's driving this time?" she asked.
"I'll take the wheel," Brian said, sliding into the driver's seat. Adeline pouted but climbed into the passenger side, reclining back. Just then, Brian's phone rang. He answered while driving.
Adeline frowned—she was strict about manners.
"Hey, Danny."
"¡Amigo! Half an hour, my friend. Meet me at the Five Star Destiny Theater. I don't need to tell you the way, do I?"
"Of course not. My car's got GPS—it's not that ancient. See you." Brian hung up.
Adeline leaned over with a sly smile. "Every drop of a show has value, Bri. We shouldn't waste it."
"Okay, okay. I'll handle this." he said, shifting gears eastward toward the theater.
They arrived to find Dan waiting in the parking lot, waving. He had reserved a spot just for them. Brian steered in, and they stepped out to meet him. Dan flipped his hair at Adeline, who smiled brightly.
"Good evening again, Miss Callaghan. Ready for the performance?" he asked sweetly.
"More than ever," she replied, her smile nearly melting him. Brian nudged his friend's arm to snap him out of it.
"You actually reserved a spot for me? Seriously?" Brian asked.
"I had to make sure you'd win her heart, mi hermano," Dan whispered.
"Dan, we're not dating. I just didn't want the ticket to go to waste."
"You came here for a new life. I'm helping you find it. Now let's go!" Dan clapped their shoulders and led them inside, across a red-orange carpet. Brian opened the gray door first, and Adeline stepped into the grand theater, where the massive stage towered before them.
"Wow." Adeline felt a strange familiarity with the great red curtain and the smooth wooden floor. "This stage could host anything—opera, orchestra, symphony, theater, and of course… ballet." She spoke while scanning the hall, removing her wide-brimmed hat. The audience below fixed their eyes on her, the unicorn horn hairstyle jutting proudly from her forehead.
The three of them sat in the center seats, orange chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.
"Las señoritas primero (Ladies first)," Dan gestured, letting Adeline sit on the left, Brian in the middle, and himself on the right so as not to intrude. Brian sank into the plush chair and exclaimed, "My God, this is soft. So comfortable." Adeline sat gracefully, hands folded, placing her leather bag beneath the seat where the automated system secured it.
"It's showtime, Brian. Be the showman," Dan whispered.
"Shh, quiet," Brian frowned at him, then turned to Adeline with a shy look. "Sorry… my friend talks too much."
"What did he say?" she asked, fiddling with her wristwatch-phone.
"Doesn't matter," Brian sighed. Suddenly, a trumpet blast shook the theater. Brian jumped, kicking the seat in front. The old man ahead turned with a glare.
"Oops! Sorry, thought something ran across my leg," Brian said awkwardly. Adeline leaned forward to join the conversation. "Do you come here often, sir?"
"Oh yes, many times, Here with your boyfriend?" Dan answered.
"Oh no, just a colleague. Oh! The show's starting—shh!" she signaled.
Music filled the hall, drawing every eye to the stage. Strings faded, leaving only piano notes—Johann S. Bach, Prelude in C Major.
The red curtain parted, revealing a painting: melting water transforming into golden wheat fields, black crows circling above, a path carved through crushed stalks. Blue paint splashed across the sky, completing a majestic image. A deep voice echoed:
"His work was never honored in life. Silence whispered to all that though the cruel world ignored him, he believed in the art he created with passion. In the end, his voice fell silent. Sorrow, pain, joy—he loved what he did and would sleep forever with his masterpiece in hand. It may not be the happiness he deserved, but it was the happiness he sought. Vincent van Gogh."
The voice, the music, and the imagery pierced Adeline's heart. Tears welled as she dabbed them with her white handkerchief. Brian and Dan whispered about the performance until Brian noticed her crying.
"Now's your chance!" Dan nudged.
"Ahem… Dell, are you alright?" Brian asked, glaring at his friend.
"I'm just sensitive to things like this. My heart's fragile with such emotions," she admitted, tears flowing faster the more she tried to hold them back.
Behind the curtain, Adeline noticed a ballerina in white, unseen by most. She absorbed every detail. The dancer stood still, meditating—reminding Adeline of her sister Annie, who once stood backstage, sighing nervously before her solo. Though terrified, Annie gathered her courage and stepped out, greeted by thunderous applause.
Suddenly, the theater lights dimmed, spotlighting Annie. Adeline's face transformed in memory—she was once a little girl, legs dangling above the floor, thrilled to watch her sister's ballet. She recalled her own early lessons, when their grandmother stretched her arms and measured them with a tape.
"Ha, your arms will grow perfectly in proportion," her grandmother said.
"Grandma, why do you scold Annie every day?"
"Because she's stubborn. Doing things outside the rules isn't how I want, Adeline."
"What does 'outside the rules' mean?"
"You'll understand when you practice more. Now go find your sister—I need to speak with your mother."
Little Adeline walked out to join Annie on the rehearsal stage.
The silence in the theater made the sound of Annie's feet striking the wooden floor echo clearly. Little Adeline sat at the corner of the stage, watching her sister rehearse.
Suddenly, Annie spun and spotted her, stumbling and falling with a thud.
"Ouch! …Hey," Annie said, letting her brown hair fall loose from its pins. "Ugh, I'm exhausted."
"Don't you get tired practicing so hard, Annie?" Adeline asked, smiling and rocking side to side.
"Of course. Grandma never goes easy on me." Annie sat down, stretching her legs, breathing heavily beside her little sister.
"When will our family finally ride the airship together? I'm tired of sitting with just Mom and Dad."
"Sometimes, if you're too happy as a child, you might not be happy when you grow up. Treasure it. When the time comes, everyone will give you the time they have."
"Then I'll wait for that day," Adeline said. Annie stroked her sister's braided hair.
"No matter what I do, or who I become, I'll always love my little sister." Annie pulled her into a warm embrace.
"I don't want you to marry that rich guy. He's so mean~" Adeline cried.
"Addie..... It's for our family's sake.[1]"
Back in the present, Adeline focused on the ballerina stepping out from backstage. The lights dimmed, leaving only a spotlight on her. As she ran onto the stage, the pianist began a slow melody, joined by violins.
"Le Cygne. I danced this once," Adeline whispered, touching her face.
"Go on, Brian—hold her," Dan urged. Brian shook his head, whispering back, "Cut it out, Dan…"
The ballerina rose on pointe, moving forward slowly, arms spread like wings of a dove. She spun, her tutu rippling with grace, then bent forward, kicking her leg back and turning sharply with flawless precision.
Sparkling lights fell from above into her hands. The audience applauded in unison, Adeline standing to clap with joy. The ballerina bowed elegantly in thanks.
"You seem to enjoy this more than anyone," Brian said.
"Of course, ha-ha," she replied, smiling brightly.
"Whoa, look at that!" Dan shouted, pointing at the stage. A ballet barre appeared, and the ballerina did the unexpected—she flipped, climbing the pole to the top, then spun down like a drill.
"Eek!" Adeline squealed, covering her mouth, as the entire theater gasped. Just as she fell toward the floor, a robot with a glass fishbowl head, dressed in male ballet attire, ran out. It extended its left leg and arms, catching her gracefully.
"¡Oh Dios! My heart nearly stopped!" Dan exclaimed. The ballerina and the robot then began a pas de deux, their duet illuminated by the glowing head of the machine, its light reflecting directly into Adeline's wide eyes.
The theater floor split open, revealing the sky beneath their feet. The audience began to drift apart, floating away—including Brian and Dan—yet they continued watching the performance with calm expressions. Adeline herself was lifted into the vast heavens.
White and black piano keys descended from above, forming a staircase. She rose from her seat and stepped onto the notes one by one, her eyes fixed on the sun as it poured golden light. From above, sunflowers shone, their voices echoing in rapid piano rhythms, ringing in her ears without pause. Adeline quickened her pace, climbing the staircase in time with the music. Finally, the notes launched her upward, soaring into the sky, rising above the clouds until she nearly touched the sun.
"It's… beautiful," she whispered dreamily, her body bathed in sunlight.
From Brian's perspective, sitting beside her, he turned to see Adeline staring blankly, unblinking, lost in the performance. Her face revealed deep absorption in the art. Bri looked at Dan.
"Looks like she's dozing off. You should wake her," Dan said. Brian clenched his fists, inhaled deeply, then reached out, placing his hand gently on her left shoulder. His face tightened as he felt the softness of her frame.
Meanwhile, in Adeline's vision, she was suddenly pulled down by gravity, falling rapidly from the sky, dragged farther and farther from the sun…
"No~~~ my sunflowers!" her consciousness cried out. Then, a tall figure appeared before her. His body glowed so brightly she could not see his face. He descended, catching her slender form in warm arms. His white visage reflected the sunlight as he gazed down at her confused expression.
"Who are you?" Adeline asked the mysterious man. But the only answer she received was the gentle touch of his hand, stroking her left shoulder.
[1] Will be conclude in ACT 2 'Maman-Papaoutai' Series B.