NIGHTS

From time to time, we would make a slow track. It was difficult for me, considering that while being a robot, I preferred not having access to emotion, and I liked being a robot.

‘No,’ he mumbled, looking at the mixing table. ‘It needs something more.’

I shrugged. ‘I really don’t know.’

‘It does.’ He seemed convinced, while I was unable of hearing anything wrong with it.

‘Wait, let me try this...’

He made some changes, then turned on the speakers so I could listen to it. It was better, but it had gotten too intense, I thought. After a while, when the song was almost over, he suddenly looked at me as if there was something he didn’t understand. I looked back. What was wrong? It wasn’t until then that I felt tears running down my cheeks. And as he continued to look at me, I realized what I was doing. I sobbed and tried to hold it back. I couldn’t.

‘Don’t you like it?’ he said, approaching me slowly. ‘Is something wrong?’

I couldn’t explain it. I didn’t understand. I sensed his hands on my shoulders, his hands on my cheeks, I heard him say my name, and everything inside me felt like it was on overload. I was trembling, and couldn’t breathe. I pushed him away. That was the only movement I felt capable of at that time.

Later that night, when I was alone, I spent my time looking at my face in the bathroom mirror. I had failed to function like I was supposed to. I was changing. My circuits were breaking down. The feeling of his hands was still burning through my skin. There seemed to be nothing I could do about it.

***