He stands on the shore and watches the island. One of the planet’s moons rises against it, and in that instant, holographic projectors spring to life, and there she is, a giant limned in the moonlight.
She is regal and ethereal, a goddess presiding over a bountiful and lush paradise. He crosses his arms and doesn’t say anything, waiting for the spectacle she called him for to begin.
“It’s not working out, John. Sorry.”
The dronaratzi cameras circle him like flies, and he remains stoic. He’ll call his people, and they’ll spin this. He never should have dated an actress.

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