Prologue

Everybody said it would change things and put us in a

hairy situation. Yet I refused to believe it, I refused to
acknowledge how heavy it indeed was, and I lacked
realism until I couldn’t do it anymore. And still, I held hope.
How foolish I was for believing our love was stronger; how
foolish I was for thinking it wouldn’t come between us. I
swore that he loved me more and that I was more
important. Oh, how wrong I was.

It was humiliating and humbling to think that it was

insignificant.

Everybody said that it would divide us, and it divided us.

-You said that your love for me was greater than

everything.

-I'm sorry.

And even sometimes love isn’t enough to make someone

stay.
-Kristel Romero
 Little Miss Perfect, that was me. Miss perfect grades, miss perfect behavior,
miss perfect clothes, miss perfect hair, miss perfect nails, miss perfect life, miss
perfect colleague, even miss perfect looking for some—couldn’t that be more than a
lie? Of course, everything about that was anything but real. My life was far from
perfect; living through a war, an assassination, and protests was not nice. Yes, I did
have it better than most, but that doesn’t mean I had a perfect life. At the mere age
of 1 and a half, my parents died, and I spent the next six months in an orphanage.
Luckily for me, at 2, I was adopted by a rich family who couldn’t conceive.

My father, Arthur Nicholson, was an important politician, and my mother, Lauren

Nicholson neé Dawson, was a housewife who used to be a teacher. Both were the
kindest people I know, and I thanked God every day for having them as my parents.
Truth be told, they were the biggest reason I tried to keep things as smooth as I
could; after all, they were the reason I had a good life; they were the reason I never
had to worry over what I would eat or where I would sleep; the least I could do was
be a good daughter and pretend I was perfect. Besides, when you strongly believe a
lie, it becomes the truth.

In the end, after all I went through mentally, my 12-year-old self realized that it
wouldn’t hurt to play pretend, and I am thankful little Victoria decided that, as it
helped me live a happy life, at least for a while.

Sometimes living a lie is what gives true happiness,

despite its fakeness.

-Kristel Romero
 Meeting him was finally seeing in color

1955 was quite an eventful year for me. I had just started working at NASA two
years prior in the Space, Intelligence, and Weapon Systems Engineering area, a
dream come true. Due to my graduating with honors from Harvard, the fact that I was
one of the few women who worked there was even more of an honor as it proved to
me just how hard I was working and it made my parents proud. The catch? As I
mentioned before, it made my parents proud. Of course, I still felt honored, but it was
not my wish, truthfully. Yet nobody noticed that I didn’t desire these—not really, but
the goody two shoes and perfect girl part of me did desire them. Yet, the real and
small part of me that didn’t live in a lie didn't really desire it. but i failed to think that
part of me was important,it was certainly a bother but not important. I never paid
attention, of course, and I used to foolishly believe that it was a simple rebellious and
wrong spark that every human had. Had I let that spark turn into a flame, I would
have been really happy.

Moving onto the topic, the year 1955 brought something I was certainly shamelessly
excited for. That something was actually someone, and that someone answered to
the name of Neil Armstrong, a man I had heard wonders of, from male coworkers to
female ones, to people on the street, to my friends, and even from my father. Neil
Armstrong was a man that some would call brilliant and brave. He worked in the
Navy during the Korean War, helping pilot different planes, and studied aeronautical
engineering at Purdue University. I had to admit that I was impressed as well as
intrigued by Neil. Yet, it was not just his curriculum or experience that got me
hooked; it was the charm I heard many say he possessed. Was I ashamed of that
being what interested me? Of course, but I couldn’t bring myself to care enough to
not try to meet him. They say curiosity killed the cat, but what damage could an
engineer do? - How I wish I had been less naive.

The moment I found out that they needed someone from each area at Nasa to show
Neil around, I was hoping to be the one chosen. Call me inappropriate, but can you
blame me? Hearing even my father talk about him made him instantly very
interesting. As you can imagine, I was more than alright when my dear boss chose
me as the one to show Neil around. Truthfully, I was ecstatic, but I was a lady and
couldn’t show it. Not that I minded; acting properly, elegantly, and uptight was part of
the routine.

Hard is for a man to be smart and a real charmer, hard is

for a man to be well talked by a lady’s father, and hard is
 for a lady to get interested without knowing a thing, so
when it happens fate is certainly doing miracles.

-Kristel Romero
As someone who always saw life in black and white due to a lack of being able to
be herself, when I saw a small hue of color, I also saw hope, and my rebellious spark
would shine slightly brighter at the same time as the barrier of naiveté that
surrounded me grew stronger. So when I saw Neil for the first time, you could say I
was in a bit of awe. Opposite to what I felt, when I approached Neil, I remained as
collected as I could. I couldn’t risk messing up my act because of a man, especially if
I wanted to confirm all I heard about him. Yet one thing I could easily confirm and
accept was that the man was certainly handsome. I didn’t know if he was actually a
charmer, but I did know he was very good-looking, with dirty-blonde hair and striking
features like a sharp jaw and bright blue eyes, as well as a blinding smile that I used
to see on my father when he was charming and persuading people.

‘Victoria Nicholson.’ I said, extending my hand for him to shake when I stood before
him. I watched as he rapidly analyzed me before extending his own hand. "Neil
Armstrong," he said, smiling at me, taking my own hand, but instead of normally
shaking it, he lifted it to his lips, kissing my knuckles. "Pleasure to meet you, Miss.
Nicholson." - I guess I could check that as true. I smiled at his gesture because I
simply couldn’t help it, just like I couldn’t help the light pink hue that appeared on my
cheeks. "The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Armstrong, but please call me Victoria." I
spoke, ignoring the feeling of butterflies in my stomach as my small hand was still in
his bigger and warmer ones. "As long as you call me Neil." He said this while looking
directly into my gray eyes. ‘Deal.’ I spoke giddily, seeing now a slight hue of pink,
blue, and purple around the usual black and white of my world.

That first time I met Neil, I also experienced the beauty of the colors surrounding you
and the real feeling of something that everything in me wanted. - Had I known that I
was too deep in believing in my life to realize that there was no rebellious spark
within me?

He turned her dull world into something bright, he painted

her blank canvas full of color, he illuminated her night with
a bright ray of sunshine and yet still he couldn’t turn her
spark into a flame.

-Kristel Romero
 My perfect life in my perfect little bubble shattered
13 years have passed since I met Neil. After 13 years of being happy and enjoying
everything to the maximum, I was no longer 21 but 34, Neil was no longer 24 but 37,
and I was no longer a Nicholson but an Armstrong, Victoria Armstrong, and just like I
wasn’t a Nicholson, I was no longer a NASA worker but a housewife that enjoyed her
perfect life with her amazing husband, sweet children, cute dog, and big house. I
can’t say I wasn’t pleased with these. I was. After all, this was a life I didn’t mind; this
was something that couldn’t be taken or broken.

13 years and I still remained naive; being foolish was certainly a hobby for me.
Unlike myself, Neil did remain working at NASA, which I never complained about; it
obviously made him happy, and I was not going to oppose it. Despite what my
friends always said about him spending more time at work and focusing more on it, I
knew that it wouldn’t come between us and divide us. When Neil proposed, he
promised that his love for me was greater than everything, and he constantly
continued to remind me that he always did, so why would I think something different
when he had proved that his work was not more important than me or our kids? He
was an amazing father; he never missed a birthday or a school event, never missed
a date between us, never missed anything. Everything was perfect, until it wasn't.
That project, that dammed project ruined everything.

1968, everything was fine, all good; the kids were asleep, and Neil and I were having
dinner together, all good, as always, talking casually and comfortably about our day.
He told me what he worked on, and I told him about what the kids did and what I
talked about with the neighbors. Everything was normal until "I got offered a project
today," he said, to which I looked at him with a smile. ‘Really? "What is it about?" I
asked, and despite not loving physics, I still got excited over his projects; he was
truly passionate about them, and I could understand what he said and help him,
which was nice. "Remember my dream?" He asked. Of course I did. I remember
vividly when he told me about it. I remember how his eyes were shining brighter than
usual and how his dimples were showing due to the smile that overtook his features
because of the illusion he spoke about. Yet I simply answered by nodding with a
small, soft smile. "Well, it's becoming true." He said, "Eyes shining like stars."
‘What?’ I was completely confused. "It's called Mission Apollo 11, and they asked
me to go, so I am going." Can you believe it? I'm going to the moon. Despite all the
thoughts running through my head, I couldn’t formulate any words.

After the news he dropped on me everything else was blurry and I could vaguely
remember things. Small flashes is all I have from that heartbreaking night.

-What about us?

-Honey…..
 -You can’t do that!

-I can and I will, end of discussion.

-What?!

-I will not quit on my dreams.

-So you will quit on your family?

-I’m not quitting on my family!

-You said your job would never come first.

-My job not, but this is my dream.

-You said that your love for me was greater than everything.

-I'm sorry.

‘I can’t believe he chose his dream over his family.’ ‘Yeah, well, Victoria chose
something else over her family,’ The girl who spoke first hummed before speaking.
‘What it was?’ ‘You’ll learn one day’ The gray-eyed woman spoke. ‘Autumn!’ The
other girl whined, to which Autumn chuckled. ‘Her freedom-’She spoke with a lost
gaze. ‘Victoria chose her freedom, the freedom of the spark she once had.’

Sometimes your dreams are your greatest loves.

-Kristel Romero

She chose to free what was trapped, she used her rage and
fury to bring back her spark and turn it into a flame.

-Kristel Romero

THE END