Possession by A.P. Thayer
What's he doing in my seat? Doesn't he know it's mine? Hey, I'm talking to you. You're in my seat.
He can't hear you.
Okay. I'll sit here then.
Good.
I bet he can hear me. He doesn't even have music playing in those headphones. Not when the music in here is so good. He's just pretending. Like he's pretending to be the owner of that seat. Pretending to work on that script. Pretending to be someone. And look how he's sitting in my seat. He doesn't even appreciate it. He’s not even vibrating at the same frequency as the cushions. It’s all wrong, let me just…
Listen, I know you can hear me. Just because I've never seen you before doesn't mean you don't know. You can't not know. That's not how reality works. Things are permanent. That's my seat and the knowledge of that existed long before you arrived here. Just like I know you existed before this moment, too. It took you time to do your hair. You had to pick out the right t-shirt and jean combination. You didn't just pop into existence to sit in my seat and put your whatever-kind-of-drink-that-is on my table. And if you don't move, I'll-- Hey, don't ignore me. Don't look away. Don't pretend you can't--
Let it go.
Fine. I'll be the bigger person. I suppose I can lend him my seat for today. But only today. The music's great, though, isn't it?
Yes.
*****
You know, maybe I should just do the Thing. That's worked before, hasn't it? It's really up to me to make sure everyone's in their proper seat, you know?
No.
Shut up. I'm doing this for everyone.
You're going to cause a scene. Like last time.
No way. That was a fluke. I'm just going to do the Thing real quick, no big deal. Put everything right again. Look at him. He knows it isn't his seat. He can tell it's mine.
Let it go.
I can't. Everyone has to be in their proper seat.
Listen, you can't keep ignoring me. It isn't just my seat you're sitting in. If you're in my seat, then I'm in someone else's seat, and on and on it goes until someone's left without a seat. Imagine all the people displaced because you're refusing to play by the rules. Where is the social contract? Aren't we a community? You can't just fuck all of that up. You have to do the right thing. Stop ignoring me, you fucking piece of--
Let it go.
No way. He's purposefully ignoring me. He won't listen to reason. I have to do the Thing. For everyone's sake. They're counting on me. They're watching me to see what I'll do. What do I do? First, I look at him, can't look way. Then I tap out the code onto my-- which thigh was it?
LET IT GO.
I think I've pissed myself.
Only a little.
Do you think they'll notice?
No.
Okay. You wouldn't lie to me, would you?
Never.
You know I couldn't take it if you lied to me.
I know.
The music's really great today.
It is.
*****
I don't think the Thing works anymore. I've been trying so hard, just like you taught me. I've kept eye contact, didn't blink. I've vibrated at the right frequency with the music. I tapped my left thigh with my pinky, like I’m supposed to. It's not working, it's not working, it's not--
Let it go.
I can't. I don't care if I make a scene. Even if I don't get my seat back, I can't let him have it. I don't know why it isn't working this time. Do you? Have you done something to me?
No.
Then why the fuck isn't it working? What's changed? Why does it feel so far away from me? Do you think it's the seat? Is it tied to my seat? Is that why the fucker is sitting there? To block it from me? Is he trying to steal it from me?
No.
I don't believe you. That's what he's doing, isn't it? And you're helping him. You're tired of me and he's the next one for you, isn't he.
Calm down.
No! I won't let him take you, too. You don't want me to cause a scene, you don't want me to make the Thing work, you don't want me to have my seat back. It's all tied together, isn't it? Who is he to you? Where have you been meeting up with him without me? I'll kill him. I'll kill him and take my seat and you're never going to go anywhere else. You're mine. No one else can have you and I'm going to tear out his fucking eyeballs.
Look.
Where is he going?
He's leaving.
But— I— It worked? The Thing worked?
Yes.
You mean, he wasn't trying to steal it?
No.
You weren't planning to go with him?
No.
I can take my seat back?
Yes.
I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry. I almost made a scene. I was yelling at you and didn't believe you. I'm so sorry. Please, forgive me. I don't know what I'd do without you. I was just scared. I'm sorry.
It's fine. Take your seat.
Right. My seat. Do you forgive me?
I forgive you.
*****
Something's wrong.
You're imagining things.
No. Really. This doesn't feel like my seat. I know my seat. It's mine and it's always been mine. I'm telling you, this feels different.
How can your seat be different?
I don't know, but this isn't my seat.
All things change.
No. It's that rat fuck with the headphones. He stole it. He took my fucking seat with him. How did he do that? Weren't you watching? How the fuck can he do something like that?
He didn't.
You're covering for him, aren't you. You're fucking helping him. You were distracting me so he could take my seat. Well, I'm not going to let either of you do that to me. I'm going to get my seat back and you can't stop me.
LET IT GO.
Right. I'm sorry. You're right. I lost it for a second there. Maybe this is still my seat.
It is.
Great music today, though, right?
Yes.
“I stopped submitting it after I lost confidence in it. The POV choices I made when I first wrote it feels more like a shtick now and I don't feel like the piece is very 'me' anymore.”
A.P. Thayer is a queer, Mexican-American writing cross-genre speculative fiction in Los Angeles. My work has appeared in several markets including Space Fantasy Magazine, Uncharted Magazine, and several anthologies, and I am a full member of SFWA. I can be found at @apthayer on social media and at www.apthayer.com.