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Caitlyn Kiramman had always been the type of person to search for answers everywhere, in everything. 

As soon as she learned to read, she pored over the multitudinous tomes that decorated the walls of their sweeping ancestral home to satisfy her every juvenile curiosity. 

She asked questions. Too, too many questions. When she had exhausted her parents, she’d ask her teachers, her few friends, the househelp— even unsuspecting strangers. Anything to satisfy the indispensable desire within her for knowledge. 

Much to the dismay of her mother, Cassandra Kiramman, an esteemed politician, Caitlyn would also venture out to places she had reiterated time and time again were strictly off-limits— both for her daughter’s own safety and for the sake of the family image. Caitlyn would forge signatures to get access to restricted locations and extricate the secrets therein that she knew were kept from her for shady reasons. She would speak to notorious criminals and put herself in danger for the sole purpose of gaining another perspective. After all, the crème de la crème only came from one animal— Caitlyn wanted the whole farm. 

So perhaps it was no surprise that when the ground beneath her feet could no longer hold her thirst for information, Caitlyn decided to look up and find her answers in the stars. 

Caitlyn’s mere interest in astrology was enough to raise a few eyebrows among the circles she inhabited. It wasn’t exactly a subject that you’d expect to be respected and validated in a society prided on scientific and technological advancements. The deprecation in the air was palpable in the way people would sigh at Caitlyn’s requests for their exact places, dates, and times of birth— and “no, just saying you were born in the morning is not enough.” 

Despite thinly veiled derision surrounding Caitlyn’s new “hobby”, she knew that, deep down, everyone had a certain burning curiosity (not entirely unlike her own) that gave way to a smidgen of interest in whatever their astrological charts had to show for them. Maybe it was the longing for reassurance that they were making the right choices or that things would turn out for the better eventually. Through eye rolls and thinly pressed lips, Caitlyn would always catch a sight of the faintest sparkle in a pupil or a stunned intake of breath. The tersest thanks could never conceal from Caitlyn the fact that she helped these reluctant folks even in the smallest of ways.

But all of that changed one morning when Caitlyn came barrelling down the stairs, the aged wood protesting against the brisk assault of her shoes. Careening past the long stretch of the living room, to the front door, just when her mother was about to leave home for an important engagement with the prime minister of Noxus, Ambessa Medarda— a welcoming ceremony to mark the official’s first visit to Piltover. Caitlyn was so out of breath that she could barely get the words out in time. Cassandra was furious at the delay, but Caitlyn had her bolted in place with both of her steadfast arms, her precarious voice, and her wretched gaze. 

“Mother,” Caitlyn started, the two syllables coming out as puffs of air that were barely there. “Mother, you can’t go there. Your life is in danger.”

Cassandra practically lost all sense of etiquette and decorum when she let out a most indignant gasp, utterly nonplussed with aghast vexation at such a rash statement, especially on a day like this. 

“Caitlyn! Gods!” her mother raised her voice, the admonishment echoing throughout the vestibule. The young Kiramman would have been startled if she weren’t already so terrified at what the stars had shown her. “These delusions of yours are interrupting international affairs!”

“Mother, please! You NEED to listen to me!” Caitlyn entreated as a haze of tears obscured her vision. She stammers out so quickly that she can barely comprehend herself. “There is an extremely malefic transit coming over your chart today involving a square between a transiting Mars forming a conjunction with your natal moon in the eleventh house, squaring your natal Pluto in the eighth house, conjunct the transiting sun, and opposing the demon star Algol sitting in your second house. There are also wayward, rogue asteroids in both the first and the tenth to beware of, including Nemesis at twenty-two degrees Capricorn that will hit the midheaven—”

“Caitlyn, for pity’s sake! Speak English!” Cassandra could feel a searing migraine blooming behind her eyes that she had to squeeze shut in exasperation. “I don’t have any more time for this nonsense!”

“You won’t have any time AT ALL if you go to this event! The stars and planets are all pointing to one horrible, unthinkable, but entirely possible probability, Mother…” Caitlyn tries to steady herself, but she is on the verge of hysterics. 

“Somebody is threatening your assassination.”

Cassandra stares at her daughter, her brilliant and beautiful girl, who has grown to be such a stubborn but determined woman. The matriarch never understood her offspring’s astrological affinity, but she had also never, in all these years, seen such unadulterated fear and terror in a face. How could she forsake and disregard it if it marred the features of the most precious person in her life? 

And wouldn’t she want to keep this life, no matter what it took, if it meant always having Caitlyn around? Occasional aggravation over metaphysical whimsies be damned. 

Cassandra wouldn’t yield entirely. She had a duty, above all, far more obligations than she could handle. In spite of that, she turned to her equerry, who always waited by the door but never intruded on family matters, even by way of eavesdropping, and requested that she have twice the usual escort, bodyguards by her side and flanking the venue, and immediate reports of ANY sort of suspicious activity. 

Councillor Kiramman’s increased security at the ceremony did not go unnoticed. Whispers drifted among the crowd with conjectures about illicit things she must have done to warrant such precautionary measures. Prime Minister Medarda batted an eye when Cassandra’s retinue scrutinized her own entourage.

However, the energy subtly shifted on the stage. It was such a minute flash of movement, but Caitlyn, who was anxiously watching the televised broadcast from home, felt sick to her stomach. 

A man whose uniform matched that of Ambessa’s other guards came into the frame. His expression was firm, as though sworn to duty, but he kept glancing to the side with rapid, unobtrusive turns of the head that were always directed with perfect precision towards Cassandra Kiramman. Caitlyn thought the exactness of his gaze was akin to the way she would stare down the barrel of her rifle at a target she was aiming to shoot. Furthermore, to someone who was paying very close attention, it would be evident that this man had not been there before. He was not part of Ambessa’s posse when she came in. He must have slipped past and intruded when the other councilors were being introduced and seated among their own escorts. 

This did not go unheeded by Councilor Kiramman’s sentinels. Prime Minister Medarda, on the other hand, was so engrossed in conversation with Councilor Salo that she didn’t realize the presence of an imposter among her party. 

The trespasser started fiddling with his pockets and fidgeting with his garments, all while stealing glimpses at Cassandra. Rather unbecoming comportment for the profession he was trying to embody. 

Ambessa and Salo laughed loudly at whatever they were speaking about, clearly getting along well with each other. The prime minister was starting to grow bored and discontent with all the formalities and suggested that they begin the banquet that awaited them featuring an abundant spread of traditional Noxian cuisine for everyone to try. Thus began a flurry of movement, and an opportunity for the interloper to strike. 

He moved in the opposite direction of Ambessa’s crew, and right towards Cassandra, straightening his gait and keeping his eyes locked on the target. Cassandra had a strange feeling in her gut that she could not describe, but a voice in her head told her to be vigilant. It almost sounded like Caitlyn’s.

Before the councilor could evaluate her surroundings any further to justify this sudden consternation, she was cordoned off by a barricade of her own bodyguards.

“Do not move, Sir.” One of Cassandra’s guards stepped forward, encircling the dubious character. “We have received reports of suspicious activities, including the presence of unauthorized personnel and the possession of unlicensed weapons. May we speak with you for a moment in the holding room so that we can confirm that it is safe to proceed?”

The man became defensive in his offense at the accusation. “You must be mistaken. I am not a criminal.”

“I did not say any such thing, but we wish to ensure utmost security for everyone at this event. So please, follow us to be interviewed. It will only be a short while.”

“Leave me alone! I am simply doing my job!” The man becomes irate at this point and abruptly unsheathes a pistol that was stealthily hidden at the side of his trousers and brandishes it at the apprehending guard and the cordon behind her. He is swiftly disarmed, placed in handcuffs, and ushered away from the shocked and horrified eyes of every single individual present. 

Cassandra’s view is obstructed, but she doesn’t miss a word that is exchanged. She is filled with dread and terror, and then utter relief when the failed assassin is hauled away. Her mind is completely muddled for a very long time, but the first concrete thought she forms is of her daughter, Caitlyn, who earlier that morning had been so obstinate as to bar her from going to one of the most important diplomatic events of her career for a reason so outlandish that she questioned how she managed to give birth to a person who would think such an absurd thing. Nonetheless, in the fallout of what could have so narrowly become her demise, the Kiramman matriarch was overwhelmed with gratitude so great that it must have bypassed the television screen and slammed straight into Caitlyn’s heart as she collapsed on the floor in relief— both at the thwarted murder attempt and the most validating revelation of her life. 

Caitlyn’s prediction was right. 

𓂃𓂃✩✮★✮✩𓂃𓂃

That was the story of how Caitlyn Kiramman became somewhat of a hero.

A lengthy interrogation revealed that the man who attempted the assassination was actually a civilian from Noxus, a political extremist who believed that an alliance between the two nations would result in the downfall of their country’s industries or whatever other preposterous conspiracies he obtained from questionable sources.

If Cassandra Kiramman were still the least bit skeptical about the validity of astrology, you would not be able to tell from the way she sang praises about Caitlyn’s abilities during her first public appearance after the untoward incident. 

“My daughter, she…” Cassandra's emotions threatened to spill over as she recounted the events of that fateful day to the newscaster whose microphone was directed at her. “She saved my life. She told me I was in danger, and I almost didn’t listen to her. She started naming planets and constellations and stars and houses that certainly weren’t the kind that governed this land, and none of it made sense to me… But Caitlyn understands everything in a way I will never be able to comprehend! And if she managed to prevent me from getting killed, I have no doubt in my mind that she can achieve great feats with that—” there’s a tinge of hesitation, but she proceeds. “Astrology business of hers.”

It wasn’t a business before, but it sure is now.

Caitlyn has clients coming in from far and wide— hailing from Piltover, the Undercity, and beyond. Prior to this unprecedented surge in attention, she had never charged for her readings, saying she was only doing them “for fun”. Though the truth was, no one had ever taken her seriously. These days, however, people would come clambering up into her office to learn what insights the cosmos had for them.

Every time, Caitlyn would have to reiterate the same statements over and over again.

“No, I cannot actually see into the future. I can only detect possibilities. I can warn you, but I cannot confirm or deny whether they will actually come true or not.”

“When all is said and done, you have more control over your life than the stars do. Free will is still a factor that you should always include in the equation.”

“I can’t tell you exactly when you will find love.”

“I can’t say that you will find love, even if it’s a possibility, if you never leave your house.”

“I can see the potential for success in your career, but I cannot say for certain how it will happen when you have yet to apply for a job.”

“You could become rich, but I don’t know if you will.”

“These are simply the stars and aspects you were born under, but the current placements can change things for you.”

It would get frustrating sometimes when people couldn’t get past the notion that Caitlyn was less of an omniscient psychic and more an interpreter of an esoteric language. The truth about astrology was that it could serve as a guide, but ultimately, you were the one in charge of your own destiny. Despite this, Caitlyn derived some enjoyment from dispelling these common myths and educating people about the true purpose of the medium. 

One afternoon, a young woman, no older than twenty, waltzed into Caitlyn’s office, which was decorated with cosmic-themed embellishments purely for the gimmick of feeling “atmospheric”, as the astrologer liked to put it. The eager client bounced into the seat across from Caitlyn’s desk like a ball of energy with residual inertia even in stillness. 

Just to be sure, Caitlyn asked for the young woman’s name. Upon recognizing it from her schedule of appointments for the day, she opened a drawer and pulled out a hand-drawn birth chart. (Yes, she liked making manual illustrations even if she had a computer with the most advanced astrological software available. She was just old-school like that.)

Before Caitlyn could even begin her reading, the young woman asked, her excitement unable to be contained, if this was going to be anything like the silly but entertaining horoscopes from the blog Astrology VIbes. Caitlyn quirked an eyebrow at that. The name was unfamiliar to her, and she was, at the very least, acquainted with all of the well-known professional astrologers around. Apparently, according to her client, this blog was “extremely popular.” How could it have eluded her?

After all of her sessions for the day, Caitlyn remains in her office as she opens the Internet browser on her computer to search for this blog that was seemingly all the rage these days. Initially, she was just going to ignore it and forget about it entirely, but at some point between that reading and now, she had gotten a call from another person who had mentioned that they wanted to book an appointment with her cause they were obsessed with the articles on the site and therefore wanted an in-person consultation.

Caitlyn’s fingers are poised over the keyboard. She recalls that the woman earlier had emphasized the importance of capitalizing the first two letters of the second word of the blog’s name.

“Astrology VIbes…” she mutters as she types. The search results display the landing page of a website with a slogan gaudily plastered across the screen; it was practically being screamed at the viewer. “ReVItalize your life! Find out what the stars have to say— look for the signs!” it read, followed by a grid with all twelve zodiac signs in four rows of three. 

Caitlyn could feel her eyes roll. This was a widespread misconception that was also one of the reasons why people made fun of astrology. A horoscope was not merely a widely generalized essay for your sun sign alone. It was a map of the entire sky, and a puzzle that was constantly being solved and reshaped as time went on. 

Caitlyn’s cursor hovers over the little X button to close the tab of the site, but she decides that maybe she would give it a tiny chance. She clicks on the horoscope for her own sun sign, Capricorn. Perhaps it won’t be half bad…

Nope. NOPE! It isn’t just half bad. It is completely, utterly, irrevocably bad.

“Dear Capricorn,” the symbol of the sea goat tumbles in an animation that gives way to a wall of text. “Stop being so CapriCORNY! Smile for once! Don’t be so uptight! Life’s too short to be too serious.” 

Caitlyn gasps, scandalized. “What the hell is this?!” she snaps. “People actually believe this bullshit?! Who wrote this rubbish?!”

Instead of rage-quitting her way out of the browser, Caitlyn decides to click on the About tab of Astrology VIbes. Perhaps she’ll find a face to direct her disgruntlement towards.

What she finds instead smoothens the lines of her frown entirely in an instant.

The writer of the blog is fucking gorgeous. 

𓂃𓂃✩✮★✮✩𓂃𓂃

This was getting out of hand.

No matter how hard Caitlyn tried, she couldn't escape the looming presence of the Astrology VIbes blog, and especially not its maddeningly attractive author— whom she now knew was named Violet Lane.

Vi. No wonder those two consequential letters were always highlighted on the website like that…

Caitlyn figured that the website was only being brought to her attention now because she was starting to do more and more readings for people within a younger, wide-eyed demographic, as opposed to her original clientele, which was primarily composed of older and stuffier members of high society. Surely, that had to be the reason!

But to shatter Caitlyn's confidence in the foolishness of the youth, a Thursday evening reading ended with some “constructive criticism” from somebody's grandmother.

“Dearie, you're very perceptive and knowledgeable about these things. It's impressive! But maybe you would benefit from simplifying the way you explain everything… I'm too old to be able to tell apart a lymph node from a— what did you say earlier? About my calling in life?”

Caitlyn’s expression is blank as she supplies. “A lunar node?”

“Whatever it is,” the elderly woman waves a hand. “My point is that your advice might be easier to follow if it were easier to understand. Take that one website about the astrovibes, for example! The horoscopes there are short and sweet.”

“And inaccurate,” Caitlyn mutters bitterly.

“That's where your talent and expertise will come in! Just… think about it, Miss Kiramman. Might do you some good—”

“—Bye, ma'am,” dismisses Caitlyn as she rises from her leatherbound swivel chair to usher the client, who was overstaying her welcome, out the door. “Have a pleasant rest of your evening.” Though Caitlyn's was anything but.

“Blimey!” starts Caitlyn as she paces around her office in petty annoyance. “How is some facetious dilettante who just mucks around and appropriates an ancient art able to exploit the gullibility of so many people like that?!”

Caitlyn’s dramatics aren’t far off from those of a Shakespearean play. “You can’t just mess with people’s sensitivities like that! A person’s horoscope could quite literally be life or death! I mean— that’s the very reason why I got to this point in the first place!”

She slumps over her desk. In her emotional rampage, Caitlyn drums violently on her keyboard, slamming out the name of the website that had gotten her this riled up. 

“That elderly woman who consulted me just now was an Aries,” Caitlyn says to herself as the Astrology VIbes website loads and she clicks on the icon denoting the ram zodiac sign. The horned sheep zooms across the screen as it gives way to the hot-off-the-press balderdash that Caitlyn forces herself to read.

“Dear Aries,” Caitlyn is already bracing herself. “If you need ARIES-on to treat yourself today, let this be it! Make that impulsive purchase. You deserve something nice.”

“Unbelievable!” shudders Caitlyn as though the digital text alone were a mortal sin against her. “THIS is the kind of thing that the lady wanted me to tell her? After I made her aware that her chart told a poignant story by way of planetary oppositions and zodiacal detriment in her fourth house that trines a potent north node— about how she has sacrificed her happiness to please everyone her entire life, and that now it is telling her to try to put herself first for once?”

Caitlyn pauses suddenly, realizing how much astrological jargon she has just spewed. Then she feels the urge to defend herself.

“I am NOT being TOO technical, I’m just trying to cite my sources and prove that I’m not making these things up out of thin air!”

Once Caitlyn has wrapped up her soliloquy to a nonexistent audience, for reasons she’d never dare to admit, she visits the Astrology VIbes About page again.

There’s a brief and uninformative line, a sorry excuse for a bio that reads: “I’m just here to spread good VIbes!”

And there she is in picture form. Violet Lane, or Vi for short… Or, as Caitlyn declares: “The Most Insolent Woman I Have Ever Seen In My Life.”  Whether Caitlyn thought insults were synonymous with adjectives meaning “good-looking”, she would take that with her to the grave. 

The photo of the author who has caused the astrologer to spiral is quite a sight to behold… It’s candid, probably taken on a phone. Vi is smirking with her hands in the pockets of her ripped jeans. She wears a tank top that shows off her sculpted biceps, on which Caitlyn comments that Vi must be spending more time working out than trying to write at least substandard horoscopes. There’s black ink adorning her arms and the side of her neck, showing a limited preview of gears and smoke. There’s also another tattoo on her left cheek of her name. Or maybe it’s the Roman numeral for six? Caitlyn finds this slightly egotistical, but she can’t bring herself to look away. Not when her eyes look like the moon in perigee, the color of her hair one of the brilliant hues a supernova would leave in its wake, and her freckles the very constellations that Caitlyn searches for in the night sky. 

Vi is a masterpiece made of stardust and cosmic wonder.

If only the words she wrote matched. 

𓂃𓂃✩✮★✮✩𓂃𓂃

A week later, an envelope is slipped under the door of Caitlyn’s office. An important letter.

Caitlyn’s eyes parse its contents multiple times over. It is an invitation to be a guest on the Good Morning Piltover talk show hosted by Sky Young. They are planning an episode on astrology to show viewers how they can improve their lives, even in simple ways, by taking some tips from their birth charts. Sky attests that Caitlyn is the best astrologer in Piltover, therefore making her the perfect person to speak on the topic.

Caitlyn doesn’t show it outright, but she is positively thrilled. Finally! An opportunity to show everyone what real astrology is supposed to look like. A chance to show all the cynics that it is a legitimate, worthwhile thing. 

She can hardly wait. 

𓂃𓂃✩✮★✮✩𓂃𓂃

On the day of the interview shoot, Caitlyn arrives at the studio a full hour before her call time wearing a fitted black turtleneck under a tailored cobalt blazer with matching crisp slacks. She sits in her dressing room, going over her notes and finding the most dignified ways to phrase all of her points. 

She isn’t nervous about what she is going to say. She knows astrology inside and out and has studied every component of it extensively for many years. Caitlyn has rightfully earned the title of “best” because there is no doubt that she works harder than most people would even dream of. 

This is her moment, her time to shine, her—

Her dressing room is getting another occupant?!

Caitlyn isn’t convinced she’s hearing everything correctly, but she is sure she caught the noise of a crew member scribbling another name on the sign outside her dressing room with a squeaky marker and exclaiming incredulously into his walkie-talkie: “Another one at the last minute?!”

Before she can even step outside to investigate, there are three sharp knocks on the door. The crew member opens it ajar apologetically. 

“Pardon me, Miss Kiramman. There has been a slight… change of plans…”

Caitlyn gawks as he continues. 

“Miss Young has informed us that you will be sharing this episode with another guest… That includes sharing your dressing room, given our- um- limited capacity… Oh, she’s just arrived at the studio gate!” He turns away from Caitlyn for a moment to speak into the walkie-talkie. “Yes, please let her in,” he says to the guard on the other end. 

Before Caitlyn can process a word that was said to her, the face that has haunted her dreams for the past few weeks appears right before her very eyes.

“VIOLET LANE?!?!” Caitlyn shrieks in a manner that is beneath her. 

Vi is taken aback, bag plummeting to the floor. Her eyes are still bleary, the early call time likely a schedule she is not used to in her day-to-day life. She wears a hoodie and baggy pants, so informal for the occasion. She probably really did just roll out of bed and drag herself here, explaining the significant delay. 

“You—” Vi is lost for words at the jarring greeting she is met with. “You know who I am?”

“Of COURSE I know who you are!!!” Caitlyn is flailing her arms. The crew member closes the door to the dressing room as Vi thoughtlessly crosses the threshold. 

“You’re the one who runs that godawful blog that takes advantage of the vulnerability of people who don’t know any better! You give them these flippantly grandiose words to live by, and they go about their lives treating them like the bloody gospel!” 

Vi has no idea what is happening. She doesn’t even fully understand why she was called to the studio in the first place, much less why this ridiculously tall, navy-haired woman who was probably quite pretty underneath all that anger, was yelling at her for her mere presence there. 

“Please excuse me… I don’t think I’m following here,” Vi says meekly, holding her hands up in surrender. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about, uh—” she glances at the guest pass hanging from a lanyard around the neck of the woman towering over her. Vi realizes that the staff probably forgot to give her one of her own in the rush. “Caitlyn,” she adds when she reads her name. 

Caitlyn gesticulates wildly as if she were trying to conjure something out of thin air. “You know! Your website! Astro VIbes!”

Realization colors Vi’s face in a flush. “Oh, right... I suppose that’s why they invited me to be on this show.” She rubs her cheek, the one that wasn’t tattooed, sheepishly. “Listen, Cupcake, it’s really not that serious—”

“Don’t play coy with me!” Caitlyn is beginning to lose her breath. She can’t keep up with the allegations she’s making. “And DON’T call me that!” She feels her face heat, so she turns her back to Vi. “Your frivolous little site is the reason why people still don’t take my serious practice—” Caitlyn’s frustration mounts when she can’t find a better word. “—seriously!”

Before Vi can defend herself, the stage manager cracks open the dressing room to announce: “Places, everyone. The cameras start rolling in five minutes.”

𓂃𓂃✩✮★✮✩𓂃𓂃

On the set of Good Morning Piltover, the bright, hot spotlights do little to melt the ice between Caitlyn and Vi. 

Caitlyn does her best to muster a smile when she shakes Sky’s hand and greets her. Vi is veritably overwhelmed with everything that has happened today, and it isn’t even 6 A.M. yet. She just nods along when addressed, not even opening her mouth. 

“This is a live broadcast,” informs the cameraperson. “We’re just waiting for the next commercial to end, and it’s go-time.”

Vi gulps; her nerves flare up in unease. She feels like a fish out of water in this place. She knows there was some truth to what Caitlyn said about her. But if she doesn’t play into that facade, she might as well flee the scene right this instant. She has no business being here other than the fact that someone at home is tremendously excited to see her on TV. 

Vi can’t let her down. Everything she does is for her, after all.

The energy in the room shifts into a weighted stillness. Sky straightens up in her seat and schools an amiable mien. Caitlyn follows suit stiffly. Vi awkwardly does the same.

“And… Rolling!” cues the cameraperson.

“Gooooooood morning, Piltover!” Sky’s introduction into the program is jovial and captivating. There is no studio audience, so the sound engineer plays a track of loud applause. 

“I am your host, Sky Young.” The camera stays focused on her, keeping the guests under wraps for now.

“I know the sun has just risen, but in today’s episode, we are going to take a trip through outer space and discover fascinating secrets about ourselves! Everyone, please join me in giving a warm welcome to our guests: Piltover’s finest in astrology, Caitlyn Kiramman, and Violet Lane, the author of the Astrology VIbes blog!”

The camera pans out to reveal the two women, both waving at it. Caitlyn appears regal but rather austere. Vi has a nervous smile and a slight slouch. 

Sky is ever the professional, transitioning seamlessly into conversation. “Hello, you two! It’s great to have you both on the program! Most of the time, I ask the people who come on here how they’re doing, but since you’re both astrologers, I gotta ask— how are the stars doing today?”

Caitlyn responds so hastily that it’s as though she’s trying to interrupt Vi from even thinking of answering. Vi, on the other hand, couldn’t be more afraid to breathe a single word. 

“Well, Sky… Presently, things are looking up astrologically for all of us. Mercury retrograde has just come to a close, and Jupiter is entering the sign of its ruler, Pisces, in a few days. The energies flowing across the planets are likely to bring about some positive changes— perhaps even unexpected connections, with Venus coming into the picture.”

Sky smiles brightly at Caitlyn. “That sounds incredibly fascinating, Miss Kiramman! Now, could you explain what exactly all of those things mean to our viewers who might be confusing retrograde with Gatorade?”

Vi snorts at this. Caitlyn darts a side eye before the camera focuses on her. 

“Most certainly! You see, a lot of people believe that astrology is this unnavigable final say for the things that will happen in their lives, whether they like it or not. When in actuality, it’s more of a beacon for transformation. For example, it may be intimidating to know that something unfavorable may occur. But because you have that knowledge, you have the opportunity to do something about it.”

Caitlyn then launches into, what is in her opinion, a watered-down definition of key astrological terms. She explains that a retrograde doesn’t mean that the planet is literally moving backwards. It just appears that way from Earth, which is why they’re believed to bring about delays. She mentions that, in ancient times, astrology was considered a science because it was a means for civilizations to grasp what lay beyond, both literally and figuratively. 

After this little crash course, Sky brings up the inciting incident of Caitlyn’s career that catapulted her to fame and glory— her mother’s assassination attempt. Enough time has passed for Caitlyn to shudder only faintly as she discusses it.

“That entire experience showed me the very reason why I do what I do. Astrology can change lives. Even if it isn’t something so extreme as saving one, it can make a difference. Maybe a reading will inspire someone to chase their dreams, to not give up…”

Sky holds on to Caitlyn’s every word with awe. To Vi’s surprise, she’s doing the same, unaware of the way her mouth hangs agape until the host shifts the focus onto her. 

“So, Miss Lane…”

“Vi is fine,” she bashfully interjects.

“So, Vi… Where did you get the idea to start the Astrology VIbes blog?” The camera pans over to Vi as Sky warmly regards her. Caitlyn tries to zone out. “I know that many people, including myself, have become fans of your quirky quips and puns over there. Earlier, while I was on the commute coming here, I read my own horoscope— I’m an Aquarius, by the way! You said that I should AquariUSE my talents to the fullest because they can bring people joy. And what do you know? I’m doing that right now as a talk show host!”

Vi blushes and smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes, given the little confidence she has right now. “I’m- uh- I’m really glad to hear that… But honestly? There’s something I need to admit…”

Caitlyn is suddenly all ears.

Vi swallows and resumes. “I’m not an expert on astrology. Truth is, I don’t know much about it at all. I started the blog cause I found a job opening from a magazine company looking for someone who could write ‘snappy snippets’ for a ‘partner site.’ I had no idea this was what I was getting myself into. I couldn’t even name all twelve zodiac signs at the time.”

Caitlyn is stunned at Vi’s sincerity. Sky doesn’t seem the least bit cheated on or put off at this revelation. In fact, it pushes her intrigue forward. “So why did you stick with it?”

“I- I,” Vi looks straight into the camera. The way her eyes soften shows that she isn’t looking at the lens, but rather, she is envisioning the image of something, someone. “I needed the extra money. I’m from Zaun, and I’m sending my sister, Powder, to college. She- she’s—” Vi’s voice wavers. “Powder is a genius, and getting a good education will open all the doors that she really deserves to walk through. She was actually recently awarded a scholarship, but it doesn’t take effect until the next semester, so we have to muddle through for now.”

Caitlyn’s mouth feels terribly dry before a wave of guilt comes coursing viciously through her veins. How could she have been so arrogant and self-important when this whole thing wasn’t even that deep?

Or perhaps it was deep. Deeper than any of Caitlyn’s complex analyses could ever be. Vi wasn’t claiming to be anything. She wasn’t even trying to extort money from people— she barely earned enough. And yet, here was Caitlyn putting her down when all Vi was trying to do was uplift others. It put Caitlyn’s whole highfalutin practice to shame. She had gotten so caught up in the illusion of changing people’s lives through a high-priced consultation fee and an hour-long lecture that she failed to appreciate others’ efforts to do the same through more modest methods.

Vi stammers, breaking the silence that follows her bold statement. “If nobody wants to support the blog anymore since I’m basically a fraud at this point, I totally understand. Really. It doesn’t even feel right to me to put up with this act when so many people turn to my words for comfort when there’s no real substance behind them.”

Sky is clutching her chest. Her eyes are glassy as she processes the noble display of humility before her. “Vi, I think people are going to love you more after learning all of that about you. Authenticity is such a rarity these days, and yet it's your very essence. If everyone learned to be just a little bit more like you, Vi, the world would be a better place.”

Indeed, it would, thought Caitlyn. 

𓂃𓂃✩✮★✮✩𓂃𓂃

The shoot is wrapped up not long after that. The production manager whispers something to the cameraperson after they yell the final “CUT!” about how the response to this morning’s episode has been an outpouring of support, especially on social media. 

The studio becomes so busy with the frenzy of tidying up after Sky says her final goodbye to the guests that Caitlyn doesn’t catch Vi slip away at the soonest opportunity. 

Caitlyn finds Vi heading to the dressing room to get her bag, which the former had caused to fall on the floor when she’d so rudely screamed the latter’s name in her face. No doubt that Vi would have gone straight out the exit if it hadn’t been for that. 

“Vi!” Caitlyn calls after her as she begins slinging her backpack over her shoulders.

Vi doesn’t turn back. Her tone is somber. “You got what you wanted. I admitted that the blog is a sham. Are you happy now?”

Caitlyn’s heart twists, but she did this to herself. How could she possibly deserve Vi’s kindness, something she has shown she has in great abundance, when Caitlyn couldn’t so much as give her a chance to prove herself?

“Violet, I am so incredibly sorry. The way I treated you earlier— the way I thought about you before we even met…” Caitlyn grits her teeth. She is exceedingly ashamed of herself. “My behavior was inexcusable and reprehensible. You didn’t deserve any of that. You are an outstanding person, Vi. You have such a good heart. My achievements pale in comparison to the breadth of your love and sacrifice for your sister.”

Vi finally turns to her. The look on her face is so downcast that Caitlyn wishes she had the right to rush over and pull her into an unyielding embrace. 

“I’m just trying to get by, Cait. Powder and I don’t have things the way you Pilties do, but we manage,” Vi runs a hand through her hair. Caitlyn imagines how lusciously soft it might feel under her fingers. “And for the record, I think you’re a really impressive astrologer. But I guess accomplished people forget to touch the ground every once in a while.”

“You are correct,” Caitlyn sighs despite herself. “I told myself I wouldn’t let the success go to my head, but here we are… Sky was right about the world being a better place if everyone were a little more like you. I know I would benefit from taking a tip from you.” 

“Seriously, Cupcake? The apology was enough. You don’t have to humor me.”

Caitlyn can’t even bring herself to protest over the nickname. “I mean it. I think the reason I let you get on my nerves was that I felt threatened by the attention your website was getting. A client of mine told me that I should make my astrological readings similar to yours in their brevity and lightheartedness. That I would be more accessible to the masses that way. I thought it was an insult to my work, but she was right.”

This was the last thing Vi expected to come out of this encounter. She can’t help but laugh. “But I don’t even know dogshit about astrology!”

Vi’s bluntness is endearing. A small grin forms on Caitlyn’s lips. “Perhaps we could teach each other? I can help you learn everything you need to know about astrology… And you can show me how to be more—” she searches for a word. “Approachable?”

Vi smirks, just like the way she did in the photo in the blog. “That’s a generous offer you’re giving me, Cupcake. I’ll consider it. But I don’t know if there’s much hope for you in the people skills department…”

“Hey!” Caitlyn feigns offense. She is well aware of her weaknesses. 

“Kidding!” Vi is starting to find Caitlyn’s impassioned responses to literally everything rather charming. “We can probably work around that. Maybe over coffee? Or breakfast? I haven’t had any yet. I’m starving. I feel like a zombie with the way my brain is fried. I thought you said Mercury wasn’t in the microwave anymore!”

“That’s not—!” Caitlyn starts, but she can’t suppress the hearty chuckle that escapes her. Vi was actually giving her a chance when Caitlyn couldn’t even do the same for her at first. “Over breakfast would be perfect.”

Vi claps her hands together firmly. “Great! It’s a date!”

Caitlyn almost trips over herself, and she isn’t even moving. “A- a date?”

Vi realizes how Caitlyn misinterpreted her words. “I meant the expression! The one people use when they make an appointment! Unless…” Vi finds the swagger she was missing when she was on TV. “You want it to be an actual date?” 

Caitlyn sputters, almost choking on air and her pent-up feelings that had turned a silly crush into a needless rivalry. “If- if that’s agreeable with you… Then, yes! But- but I am aware that we haven’t exactly gotten off on the right foot and—”

Vi is enjoying this. “Relax, Cupcake. We have all the time in the world to start over— over waffles.”

Caitlyn gives a nod of grateful resignation. Vi offers her arm, and Caitlyn takes it as they make their way out of the studio building.

As fresh air and the rising sun greet them on their way to the restaurant, Vi can’t help but ask a question that has been dancing around in her mind ever since Caitlyn’s first verbal assault. 

“How exactly did you recognize me so quickly, Cait? You knew who I was after a split second of seeing me.”

Caitlyn cannot believe the corner she has been backed into. But this morning, she has lowered her pride in a way she has never done before. Might as well take another blow…

“Well, you have a picture of yourself on full display on your website! Of course I’ve seen it!” she retorts defensively.

Vi is so smug. “And did you like what you saw?”

Caitlyn’s three seconds of stalling are the only answer Vi needs.

“Shut up.”

☉☾☿♀♂♃♄♅♆♇