I’ve been harvested. Yeah, it sucks. Long story short, last night I was kidnapped from my planet. After all, I am a nobody, just some insignificant girl who does odd jobs in exchange for oxygen. Now I’m sitting in a dark, cramped and dirty room with dozens of other irrelevant and underprivileged humans.

Above us is the Grand Theater, which means that for the first time in my life I’m on (what remains of) Earth. In a few minutes some fat, rich, prissy “singers” will get paid to entertain other wealthy asswipes.

I’m here for collateral. If one of those bloated whales on stage damages their tanks or runs out of air, that’s where I come in. As the hours tick by, everyone in this room will be harvested for their remaining oxygen, and they will dump our lifeless bodies into dead space.

Is this legal? No, of course not. But guess what? No one gives a shit. Who cares if I, Vina Wells, gets robbed of air and dies of asphyxiation?

I’m extremely pissed. And I refuse to sit and wait to be stripped of my oxygen. I’ll burn this entire place to the ground before I let those assholes kill me.