Chapter Text
Rey was trying her best. She really was, but she wasn’t that outgoing or sociable. She spent most of her time with her two closest friends, Finn and Rose. The three had met at Naboo University in the Film Studies program. Finn and Rose were already dating when they met but Rey quickly became a part of their lives. They did bar trivia and karaoke once a week, every week. At the end of each night out, Finn and Rose would go to their apartment and Rey would come home alone. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough.
That had all changed in the past few weeks, however. With all the self-isolation and work from home directives, her routine was upended. Rey knew it was for the greater good but that small, selfish part of her missed seeing her friends in person, rather than over videocalls. An even smaller, more selfish part of her felt envious that Finn and Rose were self-isolating together.
“Don’t be like that, Johnson!”
Rey groaned, it’s only been 9 days and she was talking to herself aloud now. “I’ve had worse conversational partners,” she thought wryly.
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Rey walked around her apartment for what felt like the thousandth time to stretch her legs. She answered all her e-mails and finished up her reading assignments for her Politics of Science Fiction class. There were only so many online workouts she could do before her apartment smelled like a bio-hazard. She made a cup of jasmine tea and sat on her balcony, thankful for the small mercy that she could still venture outside while in her own home.
She could not get over how quiet her part of town has become. People-watching had always been a pastime of hers but even that had been affected by social distancing. Rey closed her eyes, taking in the silence of the neighbourhood. She brought her tea up to her lips for a sip when she heard a door slam. “Ow, for fuck’s sake!” she yelled as she jolted, her hot tea splashing against her hand.
Rey saw a figure on the roof top across the street. She noted that that building did not have balconies, at least by her vantage point. ‘Good for them, getting out responsibly’ she mused. The figure looked big even from far away. Dressed in what she guessed was a black hoodie and running pants, the figure set down something and started walking in a circle, swinging their arms. She assumed it was a man by the sheer size of him. His hood was up, back facing towards her. He shook out his limbs before jumping into a set of burpees. He switched to high knees and back again.
She watched intently from her perch. He looked like he had good form. After a few sets, he stopped and walked around the roof, cooling down. He grabbed his water bottle and drank deeply. His head thrown back at a sharp angle, neck exposed, hood falling back.
‘Get a hold of yourself, Johnson,’ Rey thought in exasperation. She stood to head inside just as he turned around to face the street. She stopped mesmerized by the few details she could make out. His hair was black, half pulled up. She was stunned by how shiny it was. The face it revealed was devastatingly pale, almost starkly so against his dark hoodie and that thick, barely contained hair. She sank back into her seat. Almost reflexively, Rey picked up her phone and took a photo. She tried to zoom in on the rest of his features with little success. Vaguely dissatisfied, she again turned to leave when she saw him remove his sweater, pulling it up over his torso, arms crossed and flexing across his back, over his head, before tossing it aside.
Rey froze. If she had any doubt before, it was gone. This was definitely a man. A man who apparently didn’t wear a shirt under his sweater. Rey found herself praising a deity that she was not sure existed but that she now completely believed in. He was muscular but there were no “gym muscles” to be found. Every angle and curve of his body screamed danger. His running pants were high-waisted, cutting the vertical line of his torso. “A tree, the trunk of tree.” she whispered even though no one was there to hear her.
He moved closer to the edge of the roof into the fading sunlight. He raised his arms and lunged. Rey began to recognize the movements as tai chi. When she would run through the park on Sundays, she often saw a group of older people moving in sync with each other, some with swords and tassels. She’d never seen it like this. The movement of his body was fluid and graceful. It was at odds with the power and dynamism that she just saw. Every so often, he would dip down and she would lose sight of him. Rey fought herself from standing up and leaning over the railing just for another glimpse of this redwood of a man.
Despite the distance, she thought she could see a light sheen of sweat forming on his chest. ‘Maybe that’s why he’s so blindingly bright,’ she pondered. His back hunched slightly as he raised his right arm, pushing his left hand forward. He turned, bringing his hands past his face, alternating as his head followed his own movement. He lifted both arms shoulder height before him, crossing his wrists with his hands outstretched. His shoulders straightened as he pulled his arms down to his sides and pushed out his chest. Rey recognized the repetition getting close to what she thought was the end and held her breath. He paused for a brief moment and began again.
Rey was enthralled. This man was enthralling. The only other man she’d seen who could control his body like that was Patrick Swayze. With much as much un-ironic pride as possible, her favourite movie was Roadhouse. She had re-watched it a few days ago, and the day before that…and the day before that. Perhaps that was part of this new fixation, this mystery man moved like Swayze. He moved like the wind.
A light bulb went off in Rey’s mind. She ran for her drone, BB8. Heart pounding, she scribbled her phone number on a piece of paper and taped it to BB8’s body. She synced up her phone to play “She’s Like the Wind.” from the speaker. Looking over to the roof, Rey saw that he was slowing down his poses. He centred himself, ending his session. He moved to pick-up his hoodie and put it back on.
“Oh, not fair…” Rey whined aloud, bringing BB8 outside. She leaned over the balcony railing slightly and began to wave her arm. He was sitting cross-legged, drinking his water bottle, and more importantly not noticing her. She didn’t know what possessed her, maybe it was the ghost of her idol himself.
“Hey! Hey you!” she yelled. The dark-haired man didn’t look up. Rey shook her head, trying to get over the embarrassment from what she was about to do.” She started waving both her arms now.
“Swaaaaay-zeeeee…Swaaaayyy-zeeeeee…” she called out louder, with a sing-song lilt. Immediately, his head shot up, searching for where her voice was coming from. He tracked down from the roof of her building and found her flailing. Rey put her arms down immediately. She slowly raised her right hand, now giving him the shyest wave possible. She could see his head tilt to the right and after a beat- he returned her a small wave.
Rey squealed with victory. She attempted a “Wait right there!” gesture. She launched BB8 across the street, Patrick Swayze’s voice now filling the air. He stood up, following the drone’s path towards him. Rey toggled a switch and her baby was now hovering near him. She saw him look at BB8. He leans over and pauses, looking over at her. She sees him remove her number from the top of the drone. Rey’s anticipation is overwhelming. If nothing else, somebody new to talk to would be a blessing. Suddenly, he drops into squat so his face looked level to BB8, at least from her view. She sees his hand move near his head, her number flapping around. He stood up and walked back to the roof door, glancing at her once before disappearing.
Rey flinched when she heard the door slam loudly, the only sound in the silence of the neighbourhood. She recalled BB8 to her balcony. He landed softly with only traces of scotch tape remaining on his body. Rey stared at the empty space.
"…Did that actually work?”