Seen

Haunting (Octavia)

He held out his hand and she took it, knowing that this time, she wouldn't have to let go.

I let out a long sigh and save the document. With a few more clicks the final draft of my latest book is off to my agent. I can't help staring at the screen long after the email has been sent, replaying my favorite parts of that world in my head. Overwhelming homesickness begins to set in when my phone rings next to me. I don't need to look to know exactly who it is."It is done," I say sounding as sad as I feel."It is? How do you feel?" Sloane asks."Like I need to hold a funeral.""O, they didn't die! You finished the series, you gave them a happy ending, this is amazing!"I can't help the smile that grows across my face."You're right. It does feel good, but I am going to miss them.""Of course you are, but no funeral. Tonight we celebrate!"I laugh. Whatever Sloane has in mind will be exciting. "Alright, see you tonight?""I'll be over at nine. You better be in your best costume!"I gasp almost offended. I always have the best costumes and they know it. "See you at nine, be prepared to eat your words!" I end the call while they cackle on the other end. Shaking my head I close my laptop and head to the shower. The old floorboards creak as I make my way through the house, water dripping from my hair, as I examine my wardrobe. Sloane really has no reason to be worried, I am ready for Halloween every day of the year. Actually Halloween year-round sounds heavenly. After a moment of thought, I reach for my newest black dress. If Sloane is going to eat their words, I need a fresh costume. A quick glance at my phone and I realize I took a bit too long in the shower. A few curls and braids in my hair and I am on to my makeup. I settle on a maroon Smokey look with subtle lipstick. Throwing my dress on, the plunging neckline compliments my few torso tattoos nicely. My necklace stopped just between the horns of the art piece just below my breasts. I tie on my heels and pin my whimsical witch hat to my hair and head downstairs just as I hear the door open.I find Sloane at my kitchen island serving themselves vodka shots dressed as... well as... "Are you Joan Jett or Rob Lowe?" I ask "That's the question isn't it?" they wink at me. I laugh "I like your hair like that, it brings out your eyes." They nod eagerly after shooting another shot of vodka. "Black always suited me."As they toss their lemon into the trash, they give me a once-over. "Woah, nice dress. Very scandalous." "You think?" I look down at the two even slights flowing from my ankle to my waist and smile. "Good. I am sure wherever you're planning to take me I will fit right in.""Oh, you will." They slide two-shot glasses over to me. I shoot them both letting the liquor warm my body. "What is the plan tonight?" I ask placing the glasses into the sink. I gutted the whole house when my father died, I wanted to make it modern but make it uniquely cozy. The warm tones throughout the house coupled with family heirlooms and kitschy stuff I collected over the years helped with the sense of family. Even though I am the only one who lives here. It is a small rickety house, but full of memories and imagination. It's my favorite place to be. "A friend told me about a drag show happening downtown, I thought we could start there and make our way to the pub across the street after." Sloane slips their hands into their pockets and leans back against the black marble countertops. "A Halloween drag show? That sounds amazing, what are we still doing here?""Right? Let's go and on the way you can tell me about their happy ending." Sloane heads towards the entryway. She talks about them like they are real, I think she does it because she knows how real they are to me. I follow fiddling with my heel as I go. "You know, I wouldn't have to if you just read the books."Sloane laughs, "I know, I just get so busy with work." Sloane works for a small publishing company, that's how we met. During my first conference, we became inseparable after we found each other in every single line of our favorite authors. We are just enough alike to enjoy each other's company but different enough for it to be entertaining. Sloane travels a lot for their job, but always manages to be here when I need them, I never have to worry about being alone as long as Sloane is in my life. "Yeah, yeah. I've heard all of your excuses." I smile hoping into the passenger seat of Sloane's car. They laugh, starting the car pulling through the driveway, I take the time to admire the tree line. The privacy the trees give me is worth the distance from my sweet neighbors. They have lived there long before my parents bought the property. I used to drink tea and have cookies with Mrs. Arnold after helping her in her garden on Sunday afternoons. We break through the trees and head up the paved road. Sloane cranks up the music, a pop song from our youth, we are suckers for our old angst-filled music. We belt our hearts out the whole drive, windows down, surely annoying other people who wave us off as we drive by. I used to care so much more about how people saw me, I still do, but Sloane has brought me out of my shell. I used to be much quieter, daydreaming any chance I got and spending my time writing. That is how I spent most of my college years, a friend would bring me along to parties here and there, but really I was usually by myself. I just assumed that's how I was until I met Sloane and published my first book. I found a whole group of people who enjoyed my daydreams. Now I make it a point not to second guess myself. The lights of downtown light up most of the streets. Whitepine is one of those towns that is bursting at the seams with culture and people. I loved growing up here so I never left for too long. Since I was a quiet kid, I spent a lot of time in the community library which housed the historical society. My mother was an active member and I would spend the hour a week she was in her meetings laying between the stacks of the fiction section. My school wasn't far from the university where my dad worked, he would come to get me for lunch and we would eat our sack lunches in the town square in the gazebo people watching. We would put words in their mouths and make up absurd conversations for everyone we saw. It is really wondering what I would've done if I hadn't become a writer. Sloane whips into a parking spot under an old cinema sign that reads "Insert Drag Show Club here". I laugh and turn to Sloane who is already out of the car hopping with excitement."Who told you about this place again?" I ask adjusting my cute little black purse across my body. The gold chain adds a little something to my look."Mindy. She's a friend from work, she said she comes here whenever she is in town." Sloane's red converse tap on the concrete as they hop down the sidewalk towards the door to the club. After getting our stamps, deep red lip marks on our wrists, we make our way to the bar. Sloane orders a cosmopolitan and myself a vodka soda with lemon. "I can't believe you've not buzzed after all those shots at the house." I take the stool next to them as the bartender places the drinks in front of us. The bartenders are wearing nothing under their black and gold sequin vests, most wearing exquisite makeup themselves, and talking up the various patrons at the bar. The music is pumping loud enough I need to lean into Sloane to talk, but no too loud to be overwhelming. Cocktail tables and booths occupy most of the space, but the stage at the top of the room is the focus. Large lights line the walkway and colored spotlights dance on the curtains as the DJ announces the next act. "Yeah, it's like you water down your vodka. It's just so weak."I scoff, "No, you just seem to be immune to getting drunk." I have known Sloane for roughly five years and I have personally bought us hundreds of drinks, and I have yet to ever see her drunk. While they have held my hair a number of times in the past. "I can get drunk, it just takes a lot of this weak courage," Sloane smirks at their own joke. We both rotate on the stools to watch the performer flawlessly sing Lady Gaga. We sing and dance along from there until a table opens up about two drinks later. By then, Sloane was already given a black rose from a crowd dancer during a Cher rendition. Sloane being the brightest and most attractive person most people have ever seen has us being watched by most of the patrons in the club. Sloane's honey eyes and matching voice lured in so many people, but Sloane never took them up on their offers. Never once had I been out with them and they not get hit on. I had my fair share of offers, but I almost never took someone home. The few relationships I have had over the years were bland and routine at best. When people hear I am a writer, they assume I sit in a dusty room typing away all day, but I promised myself a long time ago I would seek out adventure. I didn't need to jump out of planes, but I wanted to experience life. At some point, the fourth or fifth queen we saw entered the crowd, who all jumped up to join the dance. Sloane and I didn't hesitate to dance our way into the vision of limbs and glitter. After several songs, the queen called for drinks and the crowd dissipated. Having lost our table and our breath we made our way back outside, silently agreeing it was time for the pub. When we broke onto the street glitter sprang from our clothes, sprinkling on the ground. We both laugh "I loved that. I have never interacted so much during a show." "Yeah, they were impressive. I think one of them slipped their number into my pocket." I peel over in laughter at the torn piece of carbon paper Sloane pulls from their pocket. "How did you not feel that? Your pants are so tight." I say attempting to catch my breath and failing when Sloane's laugh busts through their smirk."Yeah, but I look good. That's how I got the number. Come on, let's go get another drink." I follow Sloane down the sidewalk a few steps behind, they forget that my legs aren't as long as theirs. I begin to pick up my pace just as we are passing by a group of men hanging against the brick wall of an urban-looking bar. A few of the men are wearing lazy costumes, a few masks, some shirts reading "This is my costume.", even one name tag. Most of them ignore Sloane but begin to whistle and holler as I walk by. I roll my eyes and trudge on until a comment comes from a man near the front, "Hey sexy, let me see what you got up that dress." That stopped me dead in my tracks.Turning as slowly as possible, sliding my lips up to a seductive smile, I walk right to the blond man ignoring the beer stench, and look up to him. "Oh, you think that you can handle what is up to my dress?"I wait, expecting an ego-fueled nod, but of course, I get the usual wide-eyed expression and a grunt. I drop my smile. "I didn't think so." I quickly turn back to Sloane when I feel his hand brush against the back of my hip. "Where do you-" it takes three seconds from the time my fingers wrap around his wrist, to me pinning him against the brick while his friends babble their weak drunken comments. "Did I say you could touch?" "Come on, I was just flirting. I didn't mean anything by it, I swear." His voice is shaky and unconvincing. "That would be a no." I apply a small amount of pressure and Crack, his scream of pain fills the street when I release him. The bouncer to the bar laughs and tells the men to call a ride. Sloane and I laugh almost maniacally as we make our way across the street. I steal one more look back to the man crying and holding his forearm against his chest when a movement past him down the alley catches my eye.When I meet the deep blue eyes across the alley I freeze. The light above the alley entry is flickering light against the side of his body, his strong jaw, dark wavy hair, the tattoos across his forearms crossed against his broad chest. The honk of a car pulls my attention away, but not before I see him smile. The smile I have seen in my dreams, the smile I described in my books. Sloane pulls me from the street roughly huffing as they tell me not to feel bad for that guy. I turn back to see him, but the alley is empty. I shake my head, determined to refocus. I have had too much to drink tonight, that's it, that's all it is. "Hey, are you good?" Sloane leans into me where I have stopped on the edge of the sidewalk. I nod unconvincingly "Yeah, I am. Sorry, I think I've had too much to drink." "Let's get you some water. And maybe something to eat."Now that Sloane mentions it, I did work through dinner tonight, only munching on a piece of candy while I finished my edits. I eagerly agree. That must be it, empty stomach fermenting in soda and alcohol, that's why I am hallucinating one of the main characters from my book. A few hours later I am stripping my shoes off in front of my entryway door. Dropping them from the bench I slump down. I spent the rest of the night distracting myself with food and excuses. Dramatically, I pull myself up the stairs and into my bathroom. Switching my dress for my light robe, I lounge in bed reading a few pages from my current read, until I can't keep my eyes open.