Villains on My Mind

Chapter 1

This is why I don't drink. I forgot. I haven't drunk for months and now my friends peer pressured me into going out -- for once -- so I forgot. I forgot that I get depressed as hell as soon as the peak of alcohol wears off and I'm somewhere in the middle of buzzed and sober.

The streets are empty, only a few soldiers in pairs leisurely surveying them. The war had started a couple months ago and I try to memorize everything, so someday I can tell my grandkids about how I survived an extraterrestrial civilization's invasion of Earth. But I can't think about it too much or I'll start feeling the panic closing in. So far, New York has remained intact. So far. There have been a few unidentified vessels crossing over New York but they haven't done anything here. In California, there's been some attacks and deaths but... nothing like London or Sydney.

I pass two soldiers carrying rifles, I'll never get used to seeing that. I give them a polite nod. Empty again. Orange hue from the streetlights above me cast shadows onto dirty Brooklyn streets. The sky above me is dark. Moonless night.

I hear my high heels echoing back to me from vacant alleys. It's early September, but New York City is still enjoying a heatwave (or suffering if you ask someone else). I slowly pass brick buildings that all look the same, TV's electric glow pooling into the street from windows. Those people didn't like the silence, didn't know what to do with themselves but I enjoy it. It's calming. Feels like it recognizes the storm in my head, and wraps me in a soothing blanket. The city gets it.

"It's wartime, Ana!" I hear Jess' voice echoing from a memory earlier today. "You don't know how long we're going to live. Come on, just come with us! You'll have fun, I promise. Hunky soldiers are going to be there, and I know you're not about to tell me you don't like uniforms. They're sexy as hell and you know it."

So I said yes. It's a tough argument. But I still ended up walking the streets home afterward, feeling blue. I know I get like this because I miss company. I like being alone but I don't like being lonely, and I've been lonely a lot lately. I have friends, but it's different. It's a different kind of company, and I've been looking for that different kind for a while now. And with the war now, I don't think I'll be finding it anytime soon. There are more pressing matters at hand.

I yelp as I misstep and almost tumble down. Shit. Really, Ana? I let out a groan, lean against the pee-smelling brick wall and take off my heels. I feel the coarse asphalt under my bare feet, but I figure it's better than a broken ankle. I take a moment and rest my head against the uneven wall. I can feel my dress clinging to my skin. I look up in the sky. Starless night, too many city lights.

I lift my head to notice a man had appeared from behind a corner. He's walking toward me about a block away. I could tell he didn't have a helmet on. Not a soldier. I try not to stare but I'm slightly drunk and he's very tall with the kind of an assertive grace to his movements that makes me intrigued. It's dark but every time his form passes a street lamp, I can get a glimpse of his face. Pale.

He's getting closer. I push myself off the brick wall and resume walking, trying to cloak myself in an air of confidence. I cross my purse over my body and clasp the high heels in my hand. You never know. As he passes me our gazes fix on each other. Instinctively, I shy away. Something about him firing up my boozed out reflexes.

Oh hell.

He was attractive. Like chiseled stone, long face. A combination of different proportions, coming together as oddly handsome. A bit strangely dressed though. It sort of looked like black robes. But it was all black, including his long, wavy hair so I couldn't really get a proper look. Maybe he was coming from a costume party.