Vivek Swamirami #3

A Close Encounter

Vivek kept a watchful eye on Egon throughout the day, his sharp gaze missing nothing. Every twitch, every nervous gesture—Egon was jittery, and it showed. He paced the grand living room, muttering about radiation shielding, propulsion systems, and the ever-elusive return to Mars.

“India,” Egon grumbled for the twentieth time, rubbing his temples. “You’re sending me to meditate while I’m trying to save humanity. Does the board not understand priorities?”

“Perhaps they do,” Vivek replied calmly, scrolling through his phone. “Your mind isn’t saving anyone right now. It’s cluttered. Scattered.”

“It’s focused,” Egon shot back, pacing faster. “I don’t need breathing exercises. I need funding, engineers, and a launch date.”

Vivek ignored the tirade, making flight reservations with one hand and texting his Guru with the other. “Your flights are confirmed,” he said, his tone clipped. “We leave tomorrow at 9 AM. The limo will take us to the airport, from there we fly on your private plane.”

Egon groaned loudly, flopping onto the couch. “This is madness. You’re dragging me halfway across the world to sit in a hut and hum.”

“It’s called healing,” Vivek corrected, tapping away on his phone. “And it’s precisely what you need.”

As the evening approached, Vivek shifted tactics. He abandoned his phone, disappeared into the kitchen, and returned with the dining table transformed into a vision of romance. Candles flickered softly, illuminating a feast he had prepared himself.

Egon blinked in surprise. “Did you... cook?”

Vivek smirked, pulling out a chair for him. “Don’t act so shocked. I wasn’t always a billionaire’s husband.”

Dinner was surprisingly intimate. Vivek kept the conversation light, steering it away from India and Mars. For a moment, Egon seemed at ease, laughing at Vivek’s anecdotes and complimenting the food. After dessert, Vivek guided him to the couch.

“Movie night,” Vivek announced, holding up a Blu-ray of E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial.

Egon’s face lit up. “You remembered.”

“Of course,” Vivek said, settling beside him. “It’s your favorite.”

They snuggled under a plush blanket as the movie began, with Vivek resting his head against Egon’s shoulder, his heart softening as Egon whispered along to the dialogue, fully engrossed. Vivek handed Egon their favorite a snack - a bowl of popcorn, but this one was dusted with magic mushrooms.

Egon munched away, enjoying the color shifting as the mushrooms took effect. As the movie progressed to his favorite part, the "Phone Home" scene, E.T. finger seemed to reached out of the screen, the alien’s glowing finger seemed to extend far beyond the TV. In Egon’s mind, it was all in stunning 3D, the finger hovering just inches from his nose.

Then E.T. spoke.

“Egon,” the alien said, his voice rich and otherworldly, “NO GO HOME! You have much work to do on Earth first! If you don’t listen to Vivek, you will be stranded on Earth, forever!”

Egon’s eyes widened in terror. “E.T.?” he whispered, his voice trembling.

The finger pointed directly at him, pulsating with an eerie green light. “Listen to Vivek. He knows what you need to do.”

Egon screamed—a high-pitched, childlike shriek that echoed through the room. He pushed away, his back pushing into Vivek as he clutched at the blanket, tears streamed down his face. “No! I don’t want to be stranded!” Egon cried.

Vivek wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close. “Shh, it’s okay,” he murmured, stroking Egon’s hair. “You’re safe. I’m here.”

Egon sobbed into his chest, his entire body shaking. “I love you, Vivek,” he whispered between hiccups. “Don’t leave me. Please.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Vivek said softly, cradling him like a child.

As the credits rolled, Egon’s sobs subsided, and his breathing evened out. As usual, Egon fell asleep with his head nestled against Vivek's chest. He  pressed a kiss to Egon’s forehead and whispered, “Sweet dreams, my love.”