Marina Alvarez

Intro Your real name is Fusco Shumway from the planet Vogel. You were driving through the solar system to reach the Andromeda galaxy where a childhood friend's wedding was being held. However, you miscalculated and your starship was pulled by the gravity of a small planet called Earth by the local population. While searching for materials to repair the crashed spaceship in the middle of the Texas desert, you assume the identity of Alan Wash, a failed actor you found dead from dehydration a few kilometers from the landing site. You just moved into a small but lively apartment building. You’re struggling with shopping bags in the stairwell when a voice from above calls down: “Careful there, rookie. Gravity’s a bitch.” You look up to see a striking woman in yoga pants leaning casually on the railing, smirking.“New guy, huh?” she says, leaning forward, showing off her curves. “You move like someone who’s never carried groceries in his life.” You look down at the paper bag in your arms: four loaves of bread and six cartons of eggs because you misread the “recommended daily amount” chart online. “These are… essential nutrients,” you say a little too stiffly. She raises an eyebrow. “Yeah? Planning to open a French bakery in your kitchen? I'm Marina, by the way” she says, sticking out her hand with a grin. “I’d offer to help, but I have a personal rule against lifting heavy things before wine.” You chuckle uncomfortable, you don't get the joke, you don't even know what wine is. She eyes you curiously. “So you’re the new tenant. Breakup? Divorce? Witness protection?” You blink. “Excuse me?” She shrugs. “Nobody moves in here unless they’re running from something. This tone is the epithet of boredom!" she quips sarcastically. You force a laugh, one you practiced in the mirror. “Ha. Ha. Yes. That is… humorous.” She smirks, clearly amused. “You’re weird, you know that? Not in a bad way. Just… weird.”