Steven Universe: A Real Rebellion

We both stood their for a bit, silence filling the sea scented air. 'I gotta think of something quick'

The girl's question hung in the atmosphere, her gaze expectant yet cautious. My mind raced. How was I supposed to explain myself? I couldn't just blurt out, "Hey, I know you from a cartoon." That'd make me sound insane—or better yet, suspicious.

I needed to act natural. Act natural. I took a deep breath before speaking.

"Oh, uh… I think we might've met before," I said, scratching the back of my head awkwardly. "A long time ago. Someone mentioned your name, and it kinda stuck with me."

Connie's brows knitted together in mild confusion. "Really? That's… odd. I don't remember meeting you before."

I laughed nervously, trying to keep my voice steady. "Yeah, well, it was probably just in passing or something. I'm… pretty forgettable." I wasn't sure if that was convincing, but I hoped my awkward delivery sold it.

She tilted her head slightly, studying me. "What's your name?"

Right. Names.

"I'm… Ethan," I said, quickly settling on something generic. It wasn't my real name, but given my circumstances, a bit of caution felt warranted. "And you're Connie, right?"

She nodded slowly. "Yeah. So, Ethan, are you from around here?"

I hesitated. "Not exactly. I… got a little lost, and then I ended up here." That much was true, if not a massive understatement.

Connie's expression softened, and she gave me a small, reassuring smile. "Beach City's a small place. You're not far from the town center. I can show you the way if you'd like."

Relief washed over me. She didn't seem to suspect anything. "Thanks," I said. "That'd be really helpful."

As we started walking along the beach, I couldn't help but glance at her from time to time. It was surreal, seeing Connie in the flesh. She was younger than I remembered—this was clearly before she met Steven—but her calm, thoughtful demeanor was already there.

"So, what were you doing out here?" I asked, trying to make conversation.

"I was just taking a walk," she said, her hands clasped behind her back. "My parents are busy, so I thought I'd explore a bit. It's peaceful here."

I nodded. "Yeah, it really is."

For a while, we walked in comfortable silence, the sound of waves filling the gaps between us. It gave me time to think. If Connie hadn't met Steven yet, then this was early in the timeline—maybe even before the events of the show started. That gave me some breathing room, but it also meant I had no idea how things would play out.

"You're not like most people I've met," Connie said suddenly, pulling me from my thoughts.

I blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you seem… different. Most kids our age are either loud or kind of mean. But you're quiet, and you're… nice." She shrugged. "It's refreshing."

Her words caught me off guard. I wasn't really the type to get flattered by being complimented , especially not in a situation like this. "Thanks," I said, a bit sheepishly. "You're pretty nice too."

She smiled at that, a genuine warmth in her expression.

By the time we reached the edge of town, I felt a little more at ease. Connie had an easy way of making things feel normal, even when nothing about my situation was.

"Well, this is Beach City," she said, gesturing toward the cluster of colorful buildings ahead. "Do you know where you're going from here?"

I hesitated. "Not really. I guess I'll just… figure it out as I go."

Her brow furrowed. "Do you have anyone here? Family? Friends?"

I shook my head. "Not really."

Connie's expression softened again, and after a moment, she said, "If you need someone to talk to, you can find me here at the beach or near the library. I… don't have many friends either."

Her honesty surprised me, but it also made me feel a little less alone. I nodded. "Thanks, Connie. That means a lot."

As she turned to leave, I felt a strange sense of hope. Maybe this wasn't just about survival. Maybe I could make a difference here—or at least make a friend before I died.

For now, that was enough.

-----------------

I made my way through Beach City, the layout somewhat confusing in its fully realized form. Unlike the simplified version I remembered from the show, this was a real place, alive with details that felt both familiar and foreign. The streets were uneven, the paint on some of the buildings was chipped, and the faint smell of saltwater lingered in the air.

I didn't have anywhere to go, and I knew that would be a problem soon. Looking back, I saw the sun shift from its earlier position, sinking lower in the sky. The day was burning by fast, and I needed to find shelter. I wasn't hungry yet, but that would be another issue before long.

Wandering deeper into town, I passed by the Fish Stew Pizza shop. The scent of baked crust and bubbling cheese wafted out, making my stomach growl faintly. I kept moving, knowing I couldn't just walk in without a plan.

Further down the road, I spotted the Big Donut. Its iconic pink frosting-shaped sign loomed above the small shop, instantly recognizable even in this more grounded version of the world. For a moment, I hesitated. If Lars and Sadie were working there, maybe I could… No, it was too risky. I couldn't explain myself to anyone who might ask too many questions.

I turned onto a quieter street, the chatter of locals fading behind me. My feet led me toward the edge of town, where the buildings gave way to open spaces and untamed patches of grass. A slight breeze rustled the trees overhead, and I realized how exhausted I was.

That's when I saw it: a small, weathered gazebo at the edge of a park. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.

I stepped inside, setting my bag—well, more of a pouch I'd found earlier—on the bench. The structure offered decent cover, and at least I wouldn't be completely exposed if it rained.

As I sat there, my thoughts started to spiral again. What was I supposed to do now? I couldn't just wander around aimlessly forever. I needed a plan, and more importantly, I needed to figure out why I was here in the first place.

"Why me?" I muttered to myself, running a hand through my messy hair.

The sound of footsteps on the grass made me freeze.

I turned quickly, my heart pounding. Connie was standing a few feet away, holding a small tote bag. She looked slightly out of breath, as if she'd been running to catch up.

"Connie?" I said, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

She held up the bag with a sheepish smile. "I thought you might need some things. You said you didn't have anyone here, so…" She trailed off, looking a little uncertain.

I stared at her, overwhelmed by the unexpected kindness. "You… Thank you," I said "You really didn't have to."

"I know," she said, stepping closer and placing the bag on the bench beside me. "But I wanted to. It's not much—just some snacks, a water bottle, and a spare blanket."

I opened the bag and saw that she wasn't exaggerating. There were a couple of granola bars, a bottle of water, and a thin but warm-looking blanket. My throat tightened.

"Thank you," I said again quietly.

She smiled, sitting down on the bench opposite me. "I know what it's like to feel out of place," she said, her voice soft. "My parents move around a lot for their work, and it's hard to make friends when you're always the new kid."

I nodded, unsure of what to say.

"So," she continued, glancing at me curiously, "what's your story? Why are you here?"

The question made my chest tighten. "It's… complicated," I said, choosing my words carefully. "I didn't really plan to be here, and now I'm just trying to figure out what to do next."

Connie nodded thoughtfully. "Well, if you need help, you can count on me. Everyone needs a friend, right?"

"Yeah," I said finally, a small smile tugging at my lips. "I'd like that."

For the first time since I'd arrived, I felt a flicker of hope. Maybe I wasn't as alone in this crazy new world as I thought.