A Glass of Beautiful

a 2-part near-future story by Presley Acuna

Do you ever feel like you can’t get through the day without a cup of joe in the morning or your favorite energy boost at that lull in the afternoon? (I mean, it’s Monday, so of course you do.) If so, you might just relate to this story about a drink taking over the world, one emotion at a time. Check out the first half after the pic, and let the author know what you think!

Content warning: Sexuality, substance abuse

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Photo by Jamie Street on Unsplash

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A Glass of Beautiful (part 1 of 2)

by Presley Acuna

It had started with Happy. That had taken off like a skyrocket, selling out across the country and later the world. And everyone was happy about it. It was badly needed in the world that had become.

Sam Anders hefted his sack of groceries so they sat more comfortably in his arms and willed himself to not skip the rest of the way home. He had downed an entire bottle of Happy in one enthusiastic draught before leaving the house, and it had kicked in hard midway through his grocery run. As a result, he was carrying home far more than he had planned to, having decided that everything he could lay his hands on would be a delightful snack and would be the perfect thing to eat with his next can of Happy.

Across the street a young couple embraced and glued their mouths together in a passionate kiss. Sam wondered if they knew each other. Happy could make you reckless.

The bag was heavy, and something inside was wet, causing the paper to get soggy and risking the integrity of the bag. Skipping was out of the question—all that bouncing would destroy the bag—but a faster dash was definitely called for.

So he dashed, and dodged, and darted a bee-line to his apartment building and, unable to contain himself once he was there, bounded up the front stoop.

At the top of the steps, the bag ripped apart, and all manner of produce and canned goods bounced down the steps, rolling onto the pavement and under parked cars. People passing by ignored it for the most part, but some picked up items and joyfully tossed them back to Sam, who laughed as he caught these projectiles.

Sam swept his hair away from his eyes, unlocked the front door, and once inside, put down his broken bag of groceries. He returned to the stoop to pick up more of the spilled goods, but anything that had rolled beyond the boundaries of his physical building had disappeared. He shrugged it off, still smiling, and closed the front door behind him.

It took a couple of trips, but he managed to get all his surviving sundries into his small apartment and onto the kitchen table. He happily put half of the items into the refrigerator and the other half into the cupboards, not really caring what belonged where, and cracked another can of Happy. Grabbing some chips from the grocery stash, Sam bounded to the living room and plopped into his easy chair. He found the remote and switched channels to one of his favorite news stations. Taking a slug of Happy, he felt a thrill course through him as he ripped open the bag of chips and delicately tongued each crisp chip into his mouth, savoring the salt and the flavor of the oil.

Life was good. News was good.

The CNN newscaster was smiling broadly, the lines around his eyes crinkled in amusement, as he reported the most recent outbreaks of Happiness that were happening around the world. “In Bangalore, thousands of workers have observed to be dancing and singing in the staggering heat, bringing all business operations to a halt. This is the second day in a row that this has happened. Many are collapsing from dehydration and heat exhaustion but after drinking another can of Four Humors Happy, they are on their feet again smiling and laughing. In Russia, following the widely disputed re-election of President Putin, the state has declared that it will begin to provide Happy to the entire population free of charge. United States Wisconsin Senator Snickles has remarked that this is an outright attempt by the Russian government at subverting the will of its peoples by giving them, in his words, ‘Joy Juice’.”

Sam laughed upon hearing that. “Joy Juice! I like it!” He took another swig of Happy and was about to switch to another news channel when felt his cell phone vibrate. He pulled it out of his back pocket and saw the image was that of his girlfriend, Bonnie. He toggled the answer button and gushed, “Hi, Bon-Bon!”

“Hi, Sam!” Bonnie bubbled back.

“How were the auditions?”

Bonnie frowned for a moment on the video call, then shrugged it off. “2 out of 3 were cancelled because the casting directors were no shows. But that’s OK. Watcha doing?” She squinted a little, feigning suspicion. Sam loved her playfulness and the sound of her contralto voice. He felt a rush of desire. “I dunno. Checking out the news. Eating chips. Drinking Happy. Come over!”

Bonnie nodded enthusiastically, “Sounds fun! I’ll be right over!”

“Cool! Bring another 6, K?”

Bonnie made an A-OK sign with her hand. “Will do. And Sam?”

“Yessss?”

Bonnie arched an eyebrow and gave him a crooked grin. “I have a surprise for you!”

Sam felt his heart rate pick up a little. “Really? Can’t wait. See you soon!”

Sam ended the call and continued to surf news channels, fascinated by the swell of events, many of which were the direct result of people substance-abusing Happy. It was hard to resist. Four Humors Inc.’s CEO and President, Janice Kimera, had personally pitched it to America in a series of 30 second spots as an all-natural, non-narcotic pick me up that was guaranteed to brighten your day. She always ended her monologue with the catchphrase, “Happy people are successful people!” In later spots she started including testimonials from happy consumers of Happy who would claim it helped them lose weight, or advance their career, or get the part, win the race, save their marriage, etc… which inexorably led to Happy going viral.

It had certainly been a boon for Sam. In the months before the launch of Happy, he had become increasingly morose about his Market Research job at the hopeful but hapless dotcom he worked for. He had been getting worried that he might be stuck in a rut. All of his friends had already moved on, leaving him with only “arms-length” work friends. At age 35, he believed he was long overdue for a raise, a new job, a move to the suburbs, a life event, something. Anything.

The only bright spot in his life was Bonnie. She was an impulsive hottie and a constant challenge to his more conservative sensibilities. He found that to be a refreshing contrast to his Midwestern mindset. She was a living reminder to him that he needed to take more chances, though he never actually did. Bonnie took all the chances she could find, but they never amounted to much of anything. Still, Bonnie was the one who had convinced Sam to try Happy.

Soon after he began to partake of Happy, he found himself feeling brighter and more motivated at work. People noticed it and said so.

“Hey Sam, is there something you want to tell us? Did you win the lottery or something?”

Sam would just smile and shrug, feigning ignorance. The quality of his work improved, and he was being included in more and more projects. Over time, Sam started to notice a change in demeanor in more and more of his dotcom colleagues and people in his neighborhood. Despite the bad economy, the soaring unemployment rate, and the endless corruption at the highest levels of Government, people were just smiling more and getting along. Protests and demonstrations for causes like equal rights and gun control slowly simmered away until they were just not happening anymore.

And every night, Janice Kimera would appear on the screen, strong and even featured with a gravity defying mound of blue-black hair, enticing viewers with her pleasingly sultry voice and captivating bright blue eyes framed in artfully-rendered eyeliner like some Egyptian queen. “Happy people are successful people!”

The doorbell rang. Sam sprang up from his chair and buzzed Bonnie in. He went straight to the door and swung it open. Bonnie bounded up and wrapped her arms around Sam’s neck, bestowing him with a plush and pliant kiss, signaling desire and designs. Sam felt himself grow hard. Bonnie felt it too, and backed away feigning surprise.

“Oh my, what’s that?”

Sam laughed and drank in the sight of his buoyant girlfriend. She was bedecked in her usual array of secondhand skimpy things, and her long, straight mane of red hair was tied with a bow to one side. She looked impish and ravishing. And she had a brown grocery bag crooked in one arm.

“Guess what I got?” she asked, offering the bag to Sam.

“Happy?”

Bonnie shook her head, “Nope. Something new. Something maybe super great!”

Unable to contain himself, Sam grabbed the bag and pulled out a Four Humors six-pack. He looked at Bonnie, a little bit at a loss.

“Look closer, farm boy,” purred Bonnie.

Sam pursed his lips at her. He didn’t like being called that but he quickly forgot about it upon examining the labels on the cans. Not only was the color scheme of the can different—sky blue instead of sunshine yellow—but the name on the can was also different. This was not Happy. This was a six-pack of Hopeful!

Sam held up the pack like some lab specimen. “Hopeful?”

Bonnie nodded, “Brand spankin’ new. I saw an ad for it yesterday. You might say I have high hopes for Hopeful.”

Sam rotated the pack of drinks, perusing the labels. “Is it really from Four Humors? Not a knock-off?”

“Hmm, I don’t think so.”

Sam tore off one can from the plastic yoke and brought it up close to read the fine print, sweeping aside his receding mop of sandy brown hair. Bonnie grabbed another can, popped the lid and guzzled the contents. Sam watched, slack-jawed, unable to believe Bonnie’s sheer recklessness.

Wiping her lips with the back of her hand, Bonnie kicked off her shoes and plopped herself onto Sam’s sofa. Sam stared, as if expecting her to change color or something. She stared back, waiting for some noticeable effect. And then she felt a rush of incredible optimism.

“Oh Sam, I just know I’m going to get the part in that show about girl bikers stranded on a desert island! I’m so sure of it! I can hardly wait to go! Let’s go now and be first in line!”

Sam gestured for her to calm down. “Bonnie, first tell me what you’re feeling. Stop for a minute and just describe it.”

Bonnie’s eyes opened wide and she shivered a little. “Babe, it’s just so good. I feel so candy-apple good about things. I want to hug myself!”

“Different from when we drink Happy?”

Bonnie rolled her eyes upwards, as if trying to look inside of herself, and bit her lip, contemplating. “It’s like the sun is shining on me from inside. All of a sudden, my entire life seems to be heading in the right direction.”

Sam thought about that. They had been together for over a year now and Sam knew all too well that Bonnie lived on the edge, jumping from one moment to the next. Frankly, she was adrift. It didn’t seem to bother her but Sam suspected there were demons lurking inside that pretty head.

She was a New England girl from a family of means and had been on a straight and narrow track, attending Colby College in Maine to pursue an Art History degree. But she discovered drugs and soon fell in with the wrong crowd, neglecting her studies and eventually dropping out, to the great consternation of her father who was a Colby Alumni. She had drifted to the city, unable to live with all the tension and disapproval from her parents, and begun her pursuit of an acting career. Now she was scraping out a living as a restaurant server, chasing auditions by day, and after-hours hanging out with her rapscallion out-of-work artist and musician friends.

Sam wondered what she saw in him. He was nothing like her other friends. But she kept coming back. She seemed to need him, or something about him that the others in her circle could not deliver. Besides handouts. Maybe he was the exception that makes the rule.

Sam cracked the pop-top of his can of Hopeful and drank a healthy draught. He put the can down and waited. In moments, the dark clouds that perennially skirted the perimeter of his consciousness dissipated, and his circumstances, though unchanged, took on an entirely different outlook. Life wasn’t so bad, was it? Yeah, he was living alone in a small apartment in a marginal neighborhood of the city, but that was just fine. He was living the life he chose, not the one prescribed by custom and expectation. All his long departed friends were just sell-outs. And Bonnie was the most wonderful of all possible girlfriends! He loved her so much. She was an incredible free spirit which made him feel alive and vital whenever they were together.

“Bon, I love you.”

“Oh, Sam, I love you too. Let’s make love!”

#

Janice Kimera sat at the head of the conference room table in the industrialist, minimalist office space that was the headquarters of Four Humors, Inc., and addressed her team in a deep and measured voice.

“Hopeful is a hit, team.”

Tucker, her Marketing Director, nodded enthusiastically. “As big as Happy was. It might be bigger.”

“Give the people what they want, right, Janice?” added Godhi, her exec assistant.

Janice nodded but raised a finger. “Actually we’re giving the people what they need, Godhi. The world needs hope. The planet has a lot of problems….”

Tucker interjected, a giant grin on his wide face, “And nobody cares! And you know why? Because everyone is drinking Happy! People are just happy!”

“And now they will have Hopeful,” answered Janice. Everyone around the table absorbed that.

“But on the other hand,” said Aurelio, the social media director, “some people are saying that Happy is addictive and is causing half the problems you alluded to, Janice. Nobody cares and no one is trying to fix any of this. They’re just drinking Joy Juice, as someone started calling our product, and sitting back, letting it all go to hell.”

“Which makes them want to drink even more Happy!” said Tucker.

Janice answered levelly, “That’s why they need Hopeful to complement Happy. That’s why I created Hopeful. It gives our customers the feeling that there’s something to strive for. You can’t just be happy. That makes you fat and lazy. You need a dream to chase. That’s what Hopeful gives you.”

“At least you hope so,” chided Aurelio.

“And I have more flavors coming,” answered Janice, looking each member of her inner circle in the eye.

Tucker raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

“You’ll know soon enough,” answered Janice.

Tucker replied, “Janice, you really need to start sharing your research with your Board. We’re making major bucks and people want to know how it works.”

Janice shook her head and swept her hand across the air, as if slicing the comment to smithereens. “I will never reveal my formulas. We’re like Coca-Cola, only far, far better. No one can knock off our products.”

#

And so, Hopeful was unleashed upon the world, and the carefree joy that had insinuated itself upon the populations of the world that were guzzling Happy was now enhanced by the added dimension of purpose! People were not only happy but also aspirational. Hopeful gave you dreams and the belief that your goals were achievable. But Hopeful also had a dark side. It made people reckless.

Sam and Bonnie bounded down the street, intent on being early for her next audition. She had been to dozens since that day in his apartment when they had together discovered Hopeful, but they were unperturbed. With every letdown, another round of Happy always helped. And if either one of them felt any inkling of an existential crisis sneaking up on them, they would grab a can of Hopeful and swig it down, breathing relief and joy and occasionally burping.

For this next appointment, Sam had decided that the chances of Bonnie making a splash on the stage were huge and that skipping a day at work to help her out was totally worth it. He had already skipped out on work several times for similar reasons, and people were talking, but so far nothing terrible had happened, and Sam decided it was fine to stretch the rules.

“Sam, I am so excited.”

“You’re gonna be great, Bon Bon. You’re practically glowing. I think the Director is really going to pick up on your energy.”

“Do you think I ought to drink another can of Happy?”

Sam stopped and swept his mop of hair out of his eyes. He rubbed his chin and said, “I think a Hopeful/Happy cocktail is called for!”

Bonnie bounced on her heels, “Sam, that’s a rock’em, sock’em great idea! Look, there’s a Deli right over there!”

The two lovers entered the Deli and perused the refrigerated section of the Deli. There was an entire wall of Happy and Hopeful behind the frosty glass doors of the beverage section, including low-cal versions and the new, 16 oz. sized cans. Sam grabbed a six of each and was turning towards the register when Bonnie tugged at his sleeve and pointed at the adjoining shelves.

“Sam, there’s Beautiful.”

“What?”

“And Handsome.”

Sam squinted at the next set of shelves, noticing even more Four Humors cans stacked top to bottom. “What are those?”

Bonnie beamed at Sam. “It looks like new Four Humors flavors, Sam. I think they might be real!”

“Yeah, but what do they do? Make you feel beautiful? Or handsome? I guess people could go for that. But isn’t that basically a delusion you can drink?”

Bonnie shrugged dismissively. “Aren’t Happy and Hopeful delusions too? What’s the diff, Opey? You like it, don’t you?”

Sam glowered at Bonnie. “Don’t call me that. Man, you can be such a condescending ding-a-ling sometimes.”

Bonnie laughed in response, examining one of the cans. “I just tell it like it is, handsome. And by the way, that’s what Handsome does. It makes OTHER people think you’re handsome. Or beautiful! At least that’s what the back of this can says. Isn’t that super?”

“Wow,” gasped Sam. “That’s completely different from Happy and Hopeful. Drinking this changes the way others look at you?”

Bonnie nodded enthusiastically. “And there’s more flavors! Look over here.”

Sam and Bonnie opened the glass door and examined all the shelves.

Bonnie read the labels carefully. “There’s Charming, and Funny and—Sam! There’s Talented! That’s it, let’s get them all!”

Sam and Bonnie left the store laden with paper bags full of Four Humors flavors. Standing around the corner from the theater where Bonnie’s latest audition was scheduled to happen, Bonnie sat on the sidewalk and proceeded to down a can of Funny, then Charming, then Beautiful, and finally Talented. When she was done, she wiped her lips with the back of her hand and sat there limply, looking up forlornly at Sam.

“I feel sick, Sam.”

Sam heard Bonnie say the words and his face broke into an uncontrollable smile.

“Why are you smiling? I think I might throw up!”

Upon hearing this Sam burst into laughter, bending over at the waist and wiping at his eyes. He stood back up and wrapped his arms across his chest, trying to calm himself down.

“Sorry, Bon Bon, but you have such timing. Good one.”

“What? Are you kidding me? Help me stand up!”

Sam covered his mouth to suppress another chuckle and helped his girlfriend to her feet. Touching her slender hand made him realize just how utterly stunning she really was: her long red hair, her bangs, her perky nose, her oval face, and those dazzling green eyes. His heart actually skipped a beat. He was so lucky to have her in his life. He had to do everything he could to help her succeed.

“I apologize, Bon. You’re just such a special talent. Anyone can see that. Here, let’s walk around the block a few times and settle your stomach. Then let’s get you in there so you can show them what you’ve got!”

to be continued and completed in part 2

Photo by Lidya Nada on Unsplash

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Meet the author:

Presley Acuna is a writer, musician and technologist. He is an Ecuadorian-American, born and raised in New York City and currently living in Brooklyn. He writes genre fiction as well as stories based on his own life experiences.

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