"Welcome back." A familiar voice came from inside.

Mateo swung the door open, seeing his sister in the kitchen with a ladle in hand. Her black hair was tied to a bun, her bangs framing her pale face and complimenting the oversized shirt she had on.

"Something wrong?" She said, putting down the ladle to check on him. "Don't tell me you got someone pregnant."

"Ana. Where's lola?"

"Out on the back."

"She's fine?"

Ana paused, meeting Mateo's gaze. "What do you mean?"

Mateo started towards Ana and grabbed her hand.

"Hey–"

"Hold still." Mateo eyed her hands. He flipped it around like paper, making sure there wasn't anything affected by the sun's crazy shitshow earlier.

"Done?"

"You haven't gone outside today?"

"No." Ana pulled her hand back from Mateo's grip, giving him a much warranted weirded-out face and got back to cooking. "I was out partying last night, remember? I just woke up."

"Yikes." There hadn't been a day when Ana's constant nights out partying would come in clutch like today, but life really was full of surprises. At least she hadn't been outside when the cold hit.

Mateo took a peek over the pot, trying to think of something to keep the conversation going. "What's for dinner then?"

"Fish soup."

"Nice. It's not everyday we get to have that."

"Tito Pedro brought some earlier." Ana took the ladle and brought it to her lips. "It came out pretty good–I think."

"Knowing you, it probably came out awful."

"No fucking way that happens."

Mateo made his way towards the living room, complete with a couple cabinets, a couch along with a small table, and finally, the radio. The blessed radio. He stopped by it and turned it on, hearing the tune of Billie Jean by Michael Jackson on his favorite channel.

Mateo found himself already dancing to the tune, but he had to stop himself short. There was no time for music. Not even for MJ, as crazy as that was.

He changed to the news. As it turned out, the blue sun and the cold weather were the hot topics of the radio hosts. Mateo listened in over the radio as he started towards the back of the house: another veranda that looked over the open sea above the cliff.

Nearing the balcony, Mateo could see grandma Isabel on her usual rocking chair, staring off to the distant horizon past the waves. She hummed the tune of Billie Jean, the music playing on the radio just before Mateo changed to the news.

She was the one who pulled him into the world of nineties music, more rock than pop, with her cassette tapes of Nirvana, Pearl Jam, and all the others in that dusty old box sitting in her bedroom.

"Lola, I'm home." Mateo bowed and took his grandma's hand, pressing his forehead against it.

"Oh, Mateo." Grandma gave away a gentle smile. "How was school?"

A slight grin crept on Mateo's face before he took the small chair beside her. He paused for a bit, thinking of what to say, before finally throwing up his hands in surrender.

"I haven't been going to school for a couple years now but–yeah, I'm doing great."

* * *

"It is recommended by experts to stay inside and avoid the sunlight as much as possible–"

Mateo dialed the radio back to his favorite channel. It was late evening, with the radio filling the room with the chill tune of blues. Though Mateo wasn't much of a blues person, he did enjoy the occasional change-up from time to time. Even if he was a huge fan of old-school pop and rock, only a madman would listen to a single genre twenty-four-seven, every day of the week.

A single bulb hung from the kitchen, illuminating the entire shack with an orange glow as flies and bugs buzzed around its warmth. Electricity was a luxury, and bulbs were pretty expensive, so Mateo had to make do with one.

He started towards the kitchen, flushing his face on the sink with cold water running down his face. Through the mirror, he stared, his sun-kissed skin flushing his thin frame. Ferrying passengers day in and day out, his skin had taken on darker shades over the years, and with little money to work with, he couldn't afford to eat full meals most of the time.

His eyes dropped, tracing his chest. He wasn't exactly stick thin. Along the outline of his ribs, he clearly had muscles, since his job required hard labor throughout the day, though he did wish he had a bigger physique.

Someday.

Through the windows, the moon outside was glowing white behind the clouds. It was strange. From what Mateo learned in school, the moon was supposed to reflect the sun's light, and with the sun turned blue, he half expected the moon to change colors too.

But it was just the same old, normal moon.

Mateo grabbed a towel and pressed it against his face. From listening in on the news, he had a basic understanding of what was happening; exposure to direct sunlight equates to frozen skin. The limbs would turn first, then the body, then finally, assuming, the head.

Most of the affected only had their fingers and half an arm frozen, but some unlucky few had their torsos turned as well. Those that did started talking–well… kind of crazy.

The victims that came to talk on the radio sounded like they had a few screws loose. They spoke in broken sentences, sometimes repeating words over and over and over before continuing.

They'd also add in random phrases in between their sentences, along with random gibberish as if the sunlight did something to their heads.

They said it was because of the whispers.

No one knows why all of this was happening, but the conspiracy enthusiasts would like to argue otherwise. Maybe it was a scientific experiment gone wrong, or an alien invasion, or even 'The Last Judgement,' as the pastors called it, effectively smiting the sinners into ice cubes.

The experts say to stay indoors, but what about Mateo's job? It was okay now because the sun was shy enough to hide behind clouds, but what then?

If the sun was out tomorrow, he couldn't get to work and ferry passengers. He'd be stuck in the house, listening to radio music all day long. That wasn't such a bad idea–it was great even, but Mateo knew he had to earn some cash one way or another.

"Earth to ugly." Ana came out the one door in the living room. "What's keeping you?"

"Is lola asleep?"

"Yeah." She pressed an ear to the door, paused to listen, before heading towards the kitchen. Mateo traced her steps, with Ana reaching for the switch on the wall to turn off the light. "Time to get some shut-eye too."

"You said it." Mateo plopped himself on the couch half-naked, making himself comfy. It was a pretty arid night, with no breeze coming their way from the sea. Now that he needed a cold refreshing breeze, it was nowhere in sight.

"Hold it."

"What?"

Ana pushed Mateo off the couch, his face meeting the wooden floor with a hard thud. "It's my turn here."

Mateo clicked his tongue. Throwing up his hands, he headed towards the cabinet and took out a futon and mosquito net. It was a pretty thin futon, but living this kind of life, he had no say on the matter. He unrolled the futon onto the floor, and after setting up the net, he was ready to get to sleep.

Ana too was done with her setup, but unlike Mateo, she has for herself the only pillow they had along with the comfort of the couch.

Flashing him an evil grin, she took off her tops and dropped to the couch.

"Hey Ana."

"Save it."

"You wanna share the pillow?"

"No."

"Fuck you then."

"Fuck you too."