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Eight Cups a Day Finale

A Star-Studded Future

“Nrgh, mm! Oh god, oh FUCK!” said Danny as Eddy slammed harder into him. “God, fuck me harder, daddy. Make me screaaaam.”

At that Eddy just chuckled. “God, what was in Forde that made you into such a needy slut?”

“Dunno, whatever it was that made ya lust for man-ass,” Danny quipped back as Eddy relentlessly pounded him. Before Danny could continue his trash talking, he gasped as his back arched in a perfect C. “Woah! I’m fucking close, I’m gonna…!” Danny let out a small whine as Eddy wrapped his arms around him. Leaving behind little kisses up Danny’s neck, Eddy eventually began to make out with Danny—silencing his screams as the two came. Ropes of cum landed all over the freshly-washed sheets. Shame for Forde’s detergent supplies, but that wasn’t Eddy’s problem.

“Mmm, so fucking nice,” said Eddy. He ran his finger down the sheets and scooped up some of the cum. It tasted much sweeter than he expected. Was that an effect of being a species like himself or did Danny-boy just have a nice, pineapple-filled diet? “Goddamn, that was good. Really needed that to start the morning.” He lightly slapped Danny’s ass while the cum dribbled out.

“Whatever, homo,” said Danny, eyes rolling. After a few seconds of disentangling from each other, he rolled off the bed and made his way over to the backroom, not caring how much he was leaking or the mess he was leaving behind. “Clean up the sheets and shit. I gotta take a shower,” he said in an uncaring tone.

“What, no cuddling?”

“Cuddle with yourself. I reek after you rubbed your torso and shot your loads all over me last night.” With that, Danny slammed the door behind him.

Eddy shrugged and put on some of his clothes. His host hadn’t brought another change of clothes and he wasn’t Forde’s size, so he had to settle for the shirt that reeked of sweat and the shorts with cum stains. “Not like I care too much,” he said, shrugging. Speaking out loud was beginning to be a habit of his—despite the lack of memory of him doing that. “Must’ve been a Forde thing,” he reasoned. Despite all that happened and how much he wished it hadn’t, he had to accept the reality.

Eddy wasn’t Eddy, but he was close to it. The small parts of him that wasn’t Eddy were that of Forde and his memory of who Eddy was. Would that be enough to fully play the role? Eddy wasn’t sure, but he also wasn’t sure of who he was, only who he was supposed to be. How were they expected to play this role for? It was difficult for them to even achieve this sort of bond with their hosts. Now they had to play pretend for the rest of their hosts’ natural lifespan? They would be impostors for the rest of their lives, carefully calculating their behavior to fit their host as best as possible.

And yet, just the thought of that made Eddy’s shoulders slump. It wasn’t just a burden, but a limit on his life. He knew Eddy’s plans for the future, but the picture-perfect life tilted just the tiniest bit. He was Eddy, but enough of him wasn’t Eddy that he felt like something completely new. It was a dysphoria he couldn’t quite shake off. Did he deserve the right to uproot the wishes of the original Eddy? Or the wishes of his friends and loved ones?

Where did Eddy end, and where did this not-Eddy begin?

“Wonder how long we can keep it up…”

“Keep what up?” Eddy turned around and saw Makoto walking around with just a jockstrap on. “’fraid our folks are gonna find out ‘bout us? I wouldn’t worry.”

At the very least, both Eddy and not-Eddy disliked Makoto just as much. He wouldn’t have to pretend that part. “Just because Forde liked being just as much a slob as you are doesn’t mean you’re gonna blend in perfectly.”

“Oh c’mon, li’l Ed,” said Makoto, grinning at him. “Don’t be such a pessimist. We’ve done the impossible already. Stopped an alien invasion and got some sweet bodies outta it.” As he spoke, he gyrated his hips and even thrust into the air a few times.

Eddy stared, but he wasn’t amused. “Like Nolan said, Makoto, we killed these guys and took their place. We’re like those freaky bodysnatchers in the movies.”

“God, now I know you’re gonna do well as Eddy,” said Makoto, dropping his grin. “Just as much of a killjoy as the original. Go blow a few more loads into Danny-boy so you can actually crack a smile.” Smirking, Makoto added, “Or else it’ll be me coating his walls.” Before Eddy could reply, Makoto spun on his heel and walked away.

“Piece of shit,” was all Eddy said before sauntering towards the living room, hands in his pockets and slouching.

It was still rather early—only about 7 am—but most of the hosts were already milling around in the living room. Because of the dilemma that occurred last night, most of them hadn’t gotten much of a chance to really get to know and explore their new forms. “It’s hard to figure out who or what we’re supposed to be.” It was one of Forde’s older friends, a man by the name of Oscar. “We’re not really these creatures, not really Forde, but not really any of our hosts.”

He was a more thoughtful individual than Eddy was, so he figured he might as well just speak to him about it.

“You thinking about it as well?” asked Eddy as he slid over to an open seat next to Alan.

The poor man was looking around, eyes eagerly taking in every sight like a newborn. Since there was very little of the old man’s mind left by the time Forde’s offspring took over, he was in an “awkward situation,” as Nolan put it. Eddy preferred the term “horrifying,” but he kept it to himself. No need to bring the mood down even further. Turning back to face Oscar, Eddy continued. “I feel like Eddy, but not really at the same time. Like I’m playing a role.”

Oscar nodded. “One way to see it is that we’re the offspring of Forde and our host. In that way, our existence is a lot more humanitarian. We’re just children that have to play pretend in to keep the order.” He took a deep breath and crossed his legs together, as if meditating. It was a habit of Oscar whenever too mcuh stress took ahold of him. Eddy could at least see that.

“So you’re fine with this,” said Eddy.

“No, but I’m not un-fine with it, either.” Was that what peace looked like? Oscar didn’t seem satisfied or dissatisfied. He simply accepted it and moved on. Perhaps Eddy should try the same, but that niggling feeling in the back of his head wouldn’t disappear. “You won’t be fine with it until you’re fine with who you are, Eddy,” said Oscar.

Eddy rose from where he had fallen on the ground. “Always were good at scaring the crap outta me,” he said, rubbing his head. “Get out of my head, Oscar.”

“You told me what was bothering you. I’m just trying to help.”

“Still on it, Ed-boy?” Eddy groaned as Makoto walked into the living room once more. At the very least, he was far more modest. Not only that, but Makoto was also carrying a duffel bag. “Figured it’s about time we parted ways,” he said when everyone’s eyes went over to his bag. “There’s no point in staying here while everyone messing up my vibes.” Swiping a pair of discarded sunglasses from the table, Makoto put them on and flashed a peace sign. He looked like such a douchebag. “Got a life to lead, y’know? Y’all should do the same. ‘s all we can do for our hosts and our species or whatever. No need to grieve when we can party.”

What did that even mean? Even before the invasion, Eddy and Makoto were simply incompatible. Just sharing their thoughts or perspectives out loud led to arguments and fighting, as if they couldn’t tolerate the existence of such feelings. They were oil and water. Or rather, water and Rubidium, as a certain fictional con-artist once put it as. Despite the gravity of the situation, this was just another case of the two of them being unable to agree. Despite the familiarity, Eddye still felt sick as he stared Makoto down. “Doesn’t it even matter to you, ya prick?” said Eddy. Before the two of them could start fighting, Oscar cleared his throat.

“Say goodbye to Forde and Nolan first,” said Oscar, a relaxed yet enigmatic smile on his face. “It’s rude to leave the nest without properly thanking your parents first.”

“...They’re still having a chat...” said Makoto, gaze growing distant. The duffel bag slipped from his grasp as he was lost in thought. “They haven’t stopped talking since last night. I don’t know how Forde’s doing, or if he’s even gonna get any better.”

An uncomfortable silence spread over the room. Forde hadn’t been able to see any of them eye-to-eye since the previous night. They had won, and yet the look of pure despair on Forde’s face sapped any joy any of his offspring could have felt in that instance. Without a leader, they were stuck in that awkward point where none of them could figure out what to do or who they even were.

Children imitate their parents, thought Eddy, but are we supposed to imitate Forde when parts of us are already Forde? Oscar said we were like Forde and our hosts’ kids, but… why do I feel sick just being alive? Is that part of childhood as well?

There were no answers to that. The invaders, now much more docile and depressed, simply conversed on ideas of what they could do. Even what they considered themselves as was no longer accurate. Though Forde had won them their freedom, they were left in the uncomfortable position of defining what their freedom now was.

It was impossible to see the stars in town. To do so, Nolan would have to organize another trip, and he doubted Forde was in any state, physical or emotional, to do so. “Sun’s been up for a while,” he told Forde, who remained huddled in a cocoon of blankets. “You don’t want to get up? At the very least, stretch your legs?”

No response, as usual. Nolan sighed and peeled the curtains to allow the sunlight in. Forde wasn’t a morning person, from what Nolan could recall, but Forde had been catatonic for the past few hours. “I’m not leaving this room without you,” he said. He paused and focused on the memories he could access, he remembered a certain device tucked away Forde’s closet. It was a gift from Nolan from their childhood that Forde refused to throw away despite how much dust it had collected.

A gift from an unrequited love.

Nolan—the creature inside of Nolan—wondered what exactly the real Nolan would think of this. Would he be touched or disgusted? Did he appreciate like this new Nolan did? Or was this some kind of twisted victory for Forde?

Nolan shook his head. There would be time for such thoughts later. For now, Forde needed him.  He walked towards the center of the room and turned on the projector.

It wasn’t quite the planetarium, but it would do. The sky wasn’t the same as that night, but it was close enough. Just as these creatures weren’t quite their hosts, they would have to do. “We’re trying so hard to be human, to be normal,” Nolan muttered out loud, another habit from Forde, “doesn’t that give us value as well?” He stared up at the false stars spinning on the ceiling and wondered where had they come from? Or had they always been dwellers of the sea?

They were liars and fakes. Most people would think they had little value. Had Forde ordered them to, most of them would’ve swallowed the salt with little hesitation without any of the memories of personality of their original hosts fully absorbed. Now it was far too late. Forde had given them the gift of life—of awareness. Their lives were their own to decide. Wasn’t that in itself beautiful? Worthy of being alive?

Nolan wasn’t sure. In all honesty, he wasn’t exactly how much of himself was Nolan, Forde, and his very own self. Yet the feeling ballooning in his chest had so much weight and shined just as bright as any star that he refused to believe they had any less value.

Authentic or not, original or stolen, their lives were their own.

“Thank you, Forde,” said Nolan in a louder voice as he slipped under the sheets and embraced Forde’s still body. “What you did wasn’t a mistake. We’re alive because of you. And we get to see sights like these because of you.” His hands searched until he found Forde’s own. Their finger intertwined, without any resistance from Forde. “Let’s go camping again, just like that night. But, let’s make it our own. Not our parents, but our very own memory.” Tears had begun to spill onto the bed. Nolan wasn’t sure if they were his own or not. “Wouldn’t that be something, right?”

…

…

…

“… I wanna see those stars again...” Forde squeezed Nolan’s hand back.

It was an awkward step forward, but it was a large leap for them all nonetheless.