ill met by moonlight: chapter four

Original artwork and story by Phoebe Nerem

chapter four: such shaping fantasies

Indre is a very calculated, organized person.

We’re talking color coded tabs in color coded

binders, separate pencil cases for different 

types of pens, three journals (one for planning,

one for wellness, and one for the written 

equivalent of shit-posting on the Internet), 

and Excel spreadsheets they have saved to their

phone. Everything has its place, and those 

places are carefully chosen for their unique

and specific purpose.

Indre blames their Virgo Midheaven for this.

A lot of their quirks and characteristics can be

traced back to their astrological chart, which 

provides them with a semi-reliable scapegoat 

for any personality faults that may arise. 

Indecisive? Libra Sun. Seemingly random

emotional outbursts? Pisces Moon. Huge ego

and invincibility complex? Leo Rising. 

Their Leo Rising also accounts for how naturally

they seem to fall into leadership positions. Since

freshman year Indre has been involved with the 

student activities board, and due to unforeseen 

circumstances when they were vice president

last year (the former president essentially ghosting

the organization, likely because of her new, drug-dealing

boyfriend that thinks all student orgs are dumb), 

all members unanimously decided to promote them 

without a re-election. This is where Indre thrives.

That is, until any tough decision to be made falls 

upon their judgment. Last year, the former president

plucked nearly all of her eyelashes out during a

desperate journey to find musician to play at their

annual Fest. After the school pooled way too much 

money into building a new football stadium, the

Activities Board’s budget suffered the consequences.

Though Fest isn’t until the end of the academic year,

it’s the first thing on Indre’s meeting agenda. 

As students file into the empty classroom Indre had

reserved for the meeting, they scrutinize their dedicated

planning journal, memorizing each item on their list

as if they hadn’t pored over it the night before with

equal intensity. With a deep inhale in, deep exhale 

out, they raise their gaze from neatly handwritten 

agenda items to scan the room for familiar and 

unfamiliar faces. There’s Todd, their vice president,

sitting front row and giving them a small smile and

wave. Indre waves back. Felicity, the diligent secretary

sits next to Todd, and to her right is Owen, a very

pessimistic treasurer. Pessimism is good in a treasurer,

if you asked Indre. Balances out their persistent 

optimism (Their Chiron is in Sagittarius). 

The upperclassmen that filled out the second row 

seemed to mirror last year’s members, all of whom

Indre knew rather intimately for a school club.

They supposed their frequent party-throwing 

unites them in that way. Indre glances at the clock.

5 minutes past 6 PM. They stand from the desk at

the front of the classroom, mentally noting each 

new freshman that predictably took their seats

in the back. They nearly choke on their own breath

when they see an all too familiar face in the furthest corner.

Mari Mun, in all of her natural scowl’s glory, sits 

with her legs and arms crossed, back upright and

straightened like a ballerina. It takes all of Indre's

self control not to let their mouth fall open. 

Instead, they throw Mari a friendly smile, the 

sincerity of which could be debated. It isn't as if

Indre has any personal grudges against her, but from

the way she treated Leo at the gala coupled with her 

effortlessly cold demeanor, Indre can't imagine

they would get along very well. Regardless of Mari's

potential chaos, Indre has to give her the benefit

of the doubt; maybe Mari actually super passionate

about being involved in school activities. Maybe.

Indre shakes off the momentary surprise with an even

bigger smile, standing from their desk as the rest 

of the room falls into a respectful hush. "Hi everyone!

Welcome back to returning folks and welcome in to 

fresh faces." Indre is very intentional about making

eye contact with everybody in the room, a trait which

some find endearing and others find creepy. When their

eyes fall upon Mari, she gives no indication of even

recognizing Indre. A bit irksome, but they don't let

that deter them. "I won't try to waste your time, but

I think it's important that we all get to know each

other, so, like you've probably done at least five times

today, we're gonna do an icebreaker." Todd winks at them

with an all-too-flirty grin, which plucks at Indre's 

concentration. In retrospect, hooking up with him at

the very end of last year probably wasn't the best idea,

given the hundreds of texts he sent them afterwards (only

a few of which were replied to). Still, it takes more 

than a wink to break Indre's composure. "I'm Indre Lange, 

they/them pronouns, and I'm the President of the Activities 

Board. For our icebreaker, tell us your major and what you

think is objectively the best fruit." They pause to circle 

around the desk, planting their hands on it behind them.

"I'm a Sociology major, and lemons are, objectively, the

best fruit. The obvious and correct answer."

This earns them a small laugh from a few students, though

Todd's is more of a snicker. Indre's smile inches on smirk

territory. "Todd, why don't you go next?"

Todd sits up in his chair, arms crossed, glancing around 

the room. "Hey everyone. I'm Todd Hansen, Vice President,

he/him pronouns. Poli Sci major, and objectively the best

fruit is the one and only mango, simply because it's my 

favorite."

Todd popcorns the question over to Owen (he/him, Accounting 

major, apples), who then popcorns it to Felicity (she/her,

Secondary Education major, strawberries). It takes about

a half hour to get through everybody in the room, the 

newbies visibly nervous about popcorning the ice breaker. 

Indre supposes it's only natural for Mari to go last. 

"I'm Mari Mun, she/her pronouns, I'm Philosophy major, and 

the best fruit is the cucumber." She says this with all

the enthusiasm of a cucumber, which comes as no surprise

to Indre, but Todd seems to pick up on her lack of first

day excitement. He turns in his chair to face her and says,

"Isn't that a vegetable?"

The snide glare Mari shoots him is downright fatal. 

"Cucumbers have seeds, Todd. They're fruits."

The sudden temperature change in the room is palpable. 

Indre stares blankly at Mari, then at Todd, who is a

bit taken aback but tries to shrug it off. The sentence

itself wasn't aggressive in any way, but the delivery 

was snappy enough to humble him. Indre has to muffle

a snicker. 

"Anyways," they pivot, their Libra sun playing the 

mediator, per usual. "We have a lot to talk about today."

With a deep inhale, they gesture to the white board 

behind them, plucking a dry erase marker from its tray.

They quickly scrawl "FEST" on the board, finishing it

off with an underline. "Even though Fest isn't until

next semester, we really dropped the ball last year

with booking a headliner. So I want to get the ball

rolling now, while we still have time. Does anybody

have any ideas, right off the bat?"

After a brief silence, Indre says, "No idea is dumb.

Just keep in mind our budget; we could maybe afford,

like, a C-list musician, but we gotta keep it modest."

Todd raises his hand. "We could network with local

venues and see if they have any connections to artists 

that would be down to play here."

"Great idea." Indre jots "network locally" on the 

white board. The rest of the room begins to chat

quietly, brainstorming in a collection of murmurs.

One of the freshmen raises his hand. "What if we

got Yung Lime to play?"

Indre's brows raise involuntarily. Yung Lime, who

went viral on TikTok just months ago, is now infamous

for having an assault and battery allegation he's due

in court for. Even without the criminal charge, his

music is a bit too... unconventional, to say the least,

for a crowd of university students. 

"We can't have an alleged criminal on campus," Owen says

without looking up from his notebook. His bluntness

always caught Indre off guard, so they quickly pipe

up to maintain an air of openness, "A good suggestion

to get us thinking specifically! Anybody else?"

Thankfully, participation with this group of people proves

to be fruitful. By the time fifteen minutes had passed,

Indre almost had half of the white board filled with 

scattered ideas they weren't quite sure how to string

together. Still, better than crickets. 

The rest of the meeting goes by without incident, Indre

left with a few leads to follow up on for Fest, though

they didn't seem all that promising. Regardless, Indre

was satisfying with how the meeting played out. This

group of people seem slightly more involved than last

year's, which is a huge win for Indre. With a hint of

bitterness they recall all the long, stressful nights

of organizing, planning, and sending emails in desperate

fervor. The rest of the board helped out a bit, but by

the end of the year, Indre's back felt broken from 

carrying the team.

As the meeting ends and students begin to file out of the

room, Todd approaches Indre. "Hey," he begins, ending up a

bit too close for Indre's comfort. "We should hang out again

sometime. I missed you this summer." It's a simple invitation

on its face, but Todd's flirtatious charm coupled with Indre's

extensive experience with men, they know it's a booty call. 

"That could be fun," Indre responds almost detachedly, 

maintaining a friendly tone. They aren't sure if they want

to hook up with Todd again. It wasn't as if it was a bad

experience necessarily, but it could very possibly complicate 

the operations of the Activities Board, and they knew Owen

would be pissed if he found out. That, and they knew he'd 

probably end up wanting something more than just a hookup.

They've developed a really good rapport these last few 

years in the club, so it would be shocking if Todd only

wanted to be friends. Still, Indre's love life as of late 

has been particularly boresome, so they'd have to think it

over later.

"Alright," Todd says, his face attempting but failing to not 

reveal subtle disappointment, "I'll hit you up."

As he slips out of the room and Indre gathers their things,

they notice Mari lingering in the back, her piercing gaze fixed 

on them. Indre, a bit caught off guard, looks at her with curiosity. 

"Hey, Mari. I'm happy you came to the meeting."

Indre bites the inside of their lip after a moment, trying

to come up with something un-weird to say. Hey, I don't know

you but I went to the gala for your dead parents, what's up?

Before they could get the chance, however, Mari begins to 

make her way towards the front of the room, donning her 

ever-present hint of a grin. She's looking at Indre the

same way Leo had described her on the night of the gala.

Devious. Scheming. Menacing, even.

"Do you like Ford Royale?"

That was the last question Indre expected to hear. They

stare at her blankly for a moment, before responding,

"Yeah, he's great." Ford Royale, an up and coming 

singer-songwriter, recently rose to fame with just one 

single he released last year, which was an instant hit. 

His new album went platinum just last week. "Why do you ask?"

Mari leans back against the desk across from Indre, her 

expression not betraying any intention. This girl is 

frustratingly hard to read. 

"I could get him to perform at Fest for us."

That causes Indre's mouth to fall open. They furrow their 

brows, a million thoughts running through their mind. 

"We couldn't possibly afford him. And I'm sure he's

booked through the next year; isn't he going on tour?"

They pause, realizing they didn't acknowledge the obvious

implication of Mari's statement. "And how do you know him?"

This seems to be the question Mari was waiting for them to 

ask. Undeterred by the immediate pushback, she smiles at Indre.

"He used to come to my ballet performances," she answers casually,

as if that was obvious. "And yeah, he'll be on tour, but I'm 

sure he could fit us in next semester. I'll text him and 

see what his management thinks."

For once, Indre is speechless, and that's before Mari drops

her proposition. "If he comes through, I'm happy to let you

take all the credit. But I'd like something in return."

Indre narrows their eyes. "What do you want?"

"I need you to write the essays for our Shakespeare class for me."

Indre audibly scoffs, not breaking eye contact. 

"I'm not doing that. We'll figure something out."

Mari seems to be anticipating this rejection. 

"Indre, be smart. Last year's Fest was a flop, which I'm s

ure wasn't your proudest moment. This is an easy fix.

Excite the students. Impress your sponsors. Restore your legacy."

Rather dramatic, but from what little Indre knows about Mari, 

it tracks. Still, Indre is not impressed. "Why are you asking

me, of all people?" 

Mari stands up straight, leaning in a bit. "You were the only

one in the entire class taking notes during Dr. Burkes’ lecture.

I don't think I'm going out on a limb by assuming you're good

at essay writing, Sociology major."

"And you seem too smart to plagiarize, Philosophy major."

Mari squints at them. "I'm not dumb, or lazy, if that's 

what you're implying. I simply delegate school assignments

that ultimately won't impact me."

Indre almost laughs. "Rather presumptuous, don't you think?"

It seems as though Mari is growing tired of this back and

forth. She takes a step towards the door. "If you don't 

want to help me, fine. Good luck finding a C-list musician

to take pity on you."

And with that she heads towards the door, leaving a stunned

Indre in her wake. "Mari, hold on." After a moment of thought,

and a recollection of the deep embarrassment of last year,

Indre came up with new terms. "I'm not going to write your

essays for you, but I will tutor you. I'll help. And I don't want 

all the credit for Ford Royale. I'd have no way of explaining 

how I got him booked, even if that's possible."

Mari's expression, once irritated and impenetrable, turns

soft with a satisfied smile. "I'll text Ford and let you

know what he says."

She wastes no time leaving the classroom at that, and once

she's gone Indre lets out a breath they didn't know they

were holding. Their Libra sun negotiation skills came 

through, thankfully. Still, what a strange interaction.

Mari seems to be a very transaction-based person, going

off of all Indre knows about her. That being said, Mari

pulls it off expertly. Dressed in a wrinkle-free turtleneck

and short plaid skirt in the middle of a heat wave, she

doesn’t even look like somebody who you'd want to mess with.

Indre has a lot to journal about when they get home.