Sigma AU Short Story: Feelings of Failure

Zoey Lavender wasn't the type to feel nervous about dates. Not anymore. Not with the life she’d led. She towered over most people, literally and figuratively, and her immense strength, her war-torn history, made casual encounters feel trivial. But something about Taylor Wolfe messed with her head in ways she couldn’t quite figure out.

It had started with an accidental meeting at one of Sigma City's rooftop parties—a job Zoey was half-heartedly taking on for some high-end client who needed protection. Fancy parties weren’t Zoey’s thing; she preferred getting the job done, collecting the money, and leaving. But the way Taylor had strolled in, effortlessly cool, confident despite the heavy makeup of insecurity Zoey could practically smell on her—she couldn’t shake it.

Now she was on a date, and all she could think about was how ridiculous she felt. The restaurant Taylor had picked wasn't Zoey’s style at all. Soft jazz played in the background, the lighting dimmed to what Zoey could only describe as "romantically inconvenient." There were candles, real candles—not the fake LED kind she was used to in Sigma City’s sleek, hyper-modern scene. Taylor had insisted on this place, some cozy spot tucked into a forgotten corner of the Hub district. Zoey agreed, if only because the invitation came with a smile she couldn’t refuse.

She sat uncomfortably, her size too much for the delicate chair, her weight making the legs creak every time she shifted. Her cybernetic arms brushed the edge of the table, causing her fork to clatter to the floor for the third time in twenty minutes.

Taylor, on the other hand, was composed, leaning back in her chair with an easy grace Zoey could only envy. She hadn’t even blinked at Zoey’s awkwardness, and instead, made light conversation. Zoey tried to focus on the words but kept getting distracted by Taylor’s steel-blue eyes, the natural gradient of her fur, and the way her feathers shifted slightly when she moved.

"So... lingerie modeling?" Zoey attempted, desperate for small talk.

Taylor chuckled softly. "Retired from it now, mostly. It was fun while it lasted. Good money, and I got to meet some interesting people." Her flirty grin hinted at those ‘interesting’ people, but Zoey could see the walls behind it.

"I bet," Zoey muttered, fumbling for her drink, knocking it over in the process. The glass tipped, spilling its contents across the table and into Taylor’s lap.

"Shit!" Zoey growled, scrambling to grab napkins. "I didn’t—uh—I didn’t mean to—"
Taylor calmly pushed her chair back, gently shaking out her feathers, her tail giving a subtle wag as she stood. "Don’t worry about it," she said, her voice calm, no irritation in her tone. Zoey froze, holding a fistful of crumpled napkins, unsure if she should laugh or just crawl under the table and disappear.

“I swear, I don’t normally do this kind of shit.” Zoey’s voice was low, more to herself than Taylor.
Taylor smiled, that same, infuriatingly kind smile. “Really, Zoey, it’s not a big deal. Let me go clean up, and we’ll pretend this never happened.”

Zoey nodded, watching as Taylor gracefully made her way to the restroom, leaving Zoey alone with the chaos she’d created.

Her tail twitched as she stared at the mess. Of course, this was happening. Of course, she’d screw it up. Dating wasn’t her thing. Hell, getting close to anyone wasn’t her thing. The only reason she’d even considered this was because something about Taylor drew her in, and now she was sitting here, making a fool of herself, just like she always did.

When Taylor returned, she had a fresh smile, not even the faintest sign of annoyance. Zoey felt something twist in her chest—guilt, maybe? Embarrassment? She wasn’t sure, but it was uncomfortable as hell.

"Everything alright now?" Zoey asked, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly.
"Yeah," Taylor said lightly, taking her seat again as though nothing had happened. "I’ve been through worse. Trust me."

Zoey swallowed, trying to calm the gnawing feeling in her gut. She needed to change the subject. Fast. "I was in the military, too," she blurted, surprising even herself. Talking about her past wasn’t something she did. Taylor didn’t seem fazed though.

“Oh? SAS for me," Taylor said, her head tilting slightly as if encouraging Zoey to continue.
"I did... stuff," Zoey muttered, her words coming out clumsily. She was used to sounding confident, but for some reason, around Taylor, she felt like a kid trying to impress a crush.

Taylor’s gaze softened. “You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready.”

"No, it’s fine," Zoey said quickly. "Just... y’know. War, fighting, surviving. The usual."

The table fell into a moment of awkward silence, Zoey’s anxiety spiking with each passing second. She felt ridiculous, trying to act like she had everything under control when she clearly didn’t.

"I think it’s impressive, Zoey," Taylor said suddenly, cutting through the tension. "Everything you’ve been through, and you’re still... you."

Zoey blinked, her ears twitching. “Still me?”

“Yeah,” Taylor smiled again, her eyes locking onto Zoey’s. “Strong. Tough. But you’re more than that.”

Zoey shifted uncomfortably. Compliments weren’t her thing, especially when they felt sincere. "I... thanks," she mumbled, unsure of what else to say.

Before the conversation could move forward, the waiter arrived with their food. As the dishes were set down, Zoey’s stomach grumbled, her appetite suddenly kicking in. At least food was something she understood. She dug in quickly, shoveling the plate’s contents into her mouth with little grace.
Taylor’s eyes widened slightly, but she said nothing, watching Zoey eat like a machine. It took a moment before Zoey realized just how ravenous she looked. Her face burned with embarrassment, but she didn’t stop. If she slowed down now, it would look even worse.

Taylor finally broke the tension with a soft laugh. "You know, we could’ve gone to a burger joint or something. I’m fine with casual."

Zoey swallowed her mouthful of food, her tail flicking in surprise. "I just... thought you'd want somewhere nicer."

Taylor leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. "Zoey, I asked you out because I like you, not some version of you that fits in a fancy restaurant."

The words hit Zoey like a punch. Her stomach twisted again, but this time it wasn’t anxiety. It was something else—something warmer. Softer.

"I’m not good at this stuff," Zoey admitted, her voice quieter now. "Dates. Feelings. I just... don’t get it."

Taylor reached across the table, resting her hand gently over Zoey’s mechanical one. "You don’t have to be perfect, Zoey. I’m not asking for that."

Zoey stared at their hands, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts. The usual response would’ve been to pull away, to laugh it off and bury whatever emotions were surfacing. But Taylor was different. She didn’t feel like a risk, or someone Zoey had to impress.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Zoey let herself relax—just a little.

"Alright," she said, her voice softening. "But next time, I pick the place. Somewhere I won’t break the furniture."

Taylor laughed, her voice light and genuine. “Deal.”

-

It had been a few days since their last date, and Zoey still wasn’t sure why she had agreed to another one. The first had been awkward enough to haunt her, but somehow Taylor had made it feel… manageable. Fun, even, in its own way. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d blown it, that Taylor was going to realize she was a mess and ghost her. Instead, Taylor had suggested they meet again, but this time at Burger Queen, a place far more Zoey’s speed. Zoey figured she’d have less of a chance to mess things up at a fast-food joint, but then again, she had an unfortunate habit of proving herself wrong.

They met in the late afternoon, the haze of Sigma City's pollution-filtered sunlight casting everything in a weird orange glow. Taylor had already grabbed them a booth by the time Zoey arrived. She strolled in, all casual confidence in her leather jacket and tight black pants, her heavy boots thudding against the tiled floor. The smell of greasy food filled the air, and she relaxed just a little—this was more familiar territory. No candles, no forks to drop. Just burgers and fries.

But as she approached the booth, something immediately went wrong. Zoey, all eight feet and four inches of her, misjudged her height yet again. The doorframe leading to the booth area caught her horns from the top, jerking her head back with a sharp bonk. The noise echoed through the restaurant, turning a few heads as Zoey cursed under her breath, rubbing her scalp.

Taylor stifled a laugh, her hand quickly covering her mouth. “You okay?”

Zoey’s cheeks flushed beneath her dark red fur. “Yeah, fine. Just... forgot I’m a goddamn skyscraper, I guess.” She slid into the booth, her tail swishing in agitation.

Taylor giggled softly, trying to hide it, but Zoey noticed. She clenched her jaw, doing her best to ignore it. Not everyone had horns, after all. She was used to this kind of thing by now.

The rest of the date started off better. They ordered their food—Zoey sticking with a double bacon cheeseburger and Taylor going for a veggie burger and fries. The conversation was light at first, mostly small talk about work, the city, and the constant chaos of living in Sigma. But Zoey could feel Taylor’s eyes on her, expectant. Waiting for something deeper.

“So,” Taylor began, pushing a fry around her plate, “you said you were in the military?”

Zoey sighed, leaning back, her shoulders bumping against the chair backrest with a dull thud.

 “Not... enlisted. When the war broke out, I was... The Americans were still experimenting on me, augmenting me. But the military saw me as useful. They gave me the same training, even though I was just a ‘project.’” She stared at her burger, suddenly not very hungry. “I guess I got folded into the war effort.”

Taylor’s expression softened, her steel-blue eyes focused on Zoey, really listening. “That must’ve been... a lot.”

Zoey shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. “It was what it was. I just wanted to survive. Fought where they told me to fight, did the dirty work no one else could do. And now I still do contracts for Sigma’s military. Discreet stuff they don't want on record except for the receipts.”

Taylor didn’t look surprised. “I figured. You don’t seem like the kind of person to settle down into a quiet life.”

Zoey huffed a laugh, though it felt forced. “Yeah, not exactly the stay-at-home type.”
There was a pause, and Zoey felt a strange urge to open up more. But the vulnerability scared her. Instead, she grabbed her burger, taking a huge bite to fill the silence. The bite was too big, and she immediately regretted it as grease dripped onto her jacket. Another thing to add to her pile of failures.

She chewed quickly, swallowing the massive mouthful before looking back at Taylor. “What about you?” Zoey asked, desperate to steer the conversation away from herself.

Taylor grinned, amused by Zoey’s change of subject. “Oh, you know. Not doing much at the moment since I'm still getting used to the city. Just the usual stuff.”

“Yeah, ‘usual.’ Cause being a hedonist is normal.” Zoey smirked, though her heart wasn’t in it. She shifted uncomfortably, her cybernetic arms making her movements feel clunky in the small space.

Then it happened. As Zoey adjusted, trying to find a better position, the chair beneath her creaked ominously. The sound filled the small restaurant, and before Zoey could react, the chair gave way with a loud snap. She tumbled backward, hitting the tiled floor with a resounding crash, her tail whacking the table as she fell.

For a second, the world was still. Zoey lay there, blinking up at the fluorescent lights, processing what had just happened. She could hear laughter—faint at first, but growing louder. Taylor was laughing. Not a little giggle this time, but a full-blown, uncontrollable laugh.

Zoey’s heart sank. She pulled herself up, her face burning with a mix of embarrassment and anger. “You think that’s funny?”

Taylor tried to stop, covering her mouth again, but the laughter kept spilling out. “I’m sorry—I’m sorry, it’s just—” She gasped between laughs. “You’re fine, right?”

Zoey scowled, brushing herself off. “I’m not fine. This whole thing is a disaster.”

Taylor’s laughter faded as she realized how upset Zoey really was. “Zoey, I didn’t mean—”

“Yeah, you did.” Zoey’s voice was low, her tail flicking in agitation. “I’m always the joke, right? The big, clumsy fox who can’t even fit through a door without making a fool of herself.”

Taylor’s face fell. “No, Zoey, that’s not what I—”

“I’m done.” Zoey grabbed her jacket, slinging it over her shoulder. Her horns brushed the ceiling as she stood, and the sense of being too big, too awkward for this world pressed down on her. “I don’t need this.”

Taylor reached out, her voice soft and apologetic. “Zoey, please—”

“Forget it,” Zoey muttered, pushing past her and heading for the exit. She ducked under the doorframe, her horns narrowly missing it this time, but it didn’t make her feel any better. Her chest was tight, her mind racing with the familiar, crushing sense of self-loathing. She didn’t belong here. She didn’t belong anywhere.

As she stepped out into the street, she heard Taylor’s footsteps behind her. “Zoey, wait!”

Zoey stopped but didn’t turn around. “Why? So you can laugh at me some more?”

Taylor’s voice was small, filled with guilt. “I wasn’t laughing at you. I swear. I just—look, I shouldn’t have laughed. I know you’re struggling with... stuff. And I don’t want to make it worse. I just thought... maybe it could be lighthearted.”

Zoey clenched her fists, her metal fingers digging into her palms. “It’s not lighthearted to me, alright? This is... all of this is just a reminder that I’m not normal. I’ll never be normal.”

She sat on her motorcycle, started it up with a loud rumble, and sped off, leaving smoke and tire marks in her wake.