CHAPTER TWO
VIGGO RASSMUSSEN
Your senses are off because you were in your cups last night, Juliana. Though you are more fun when you’re drunk.
JULIANA THE DEMON HUNTRESS
It’s the only way I can stand being around you.
Vampire Falls. Season two, episode five – “Closer Closer”
I sincerely apologise for my behaviour, but let’s not dwell.
Here it is. Some people’s favourite time is Halloween, aka All Hallows Costa-Spiced Latte Eve, but this is what I look forward to three hundred and sixty-two days of the year. This is my Christmas morning, my first day of spring, my first game of some kind of sporting event tournament match.
I bustle into the hallway and knock the umbrella stand over with my bags. Excitement makes me more clumsy than usual.
“BYE!” I bellow over my shoulder.
“Was that the umbrellas?”
“No,” I call back to Mum, dropping my bags and quickly rearranging the stand.
She appears in the doorway of her office just as I straighten up.
“See?” I say, gesturing at the stand as I grab my bags. “Vertical.”
She rolls her eyes but steps towards me, opening her arms.
“I can’t hug,” I say, nodding at my bags, “I’m all balanced out.”
“Sorry – mum hugs trump the laws of equilibrium, Eliza,” she says, demonstrating her hypothesis by squeezing me practically to death.
I reciprocate until she releases me from her Kraken embrace.
“Eliza?” she says, putting her hands on my cheeks.
“Yes, Mother,” I say, preparing myself for an emotional outpouring of how she’ll miss me this weekend.
“Tell fan favourite, humanitarian and official hottest vampire actor of all the vampire actors Damon Van Schwartz I haven’t washed my hand since he brushed it when I got his autograph last year.”
“Ew,” I say, heading to the door. “I will tell him no such thing and I hope you’re joking.”
A short, polite, car horn toots out the front and we both look round. I told Roxy not to come inside otherwise she’d get caught in Mum’s tentacles as well and we’d never get away.
“OK, I’m really going now,” I say, rushing to the door.
“Eliza?”
“I don’t want to know about any more body parts you haven’t washed, Mother.”
I look round, my hand on the door handle. She’s standing in the middle of the hallway, her eyebrows high and her arms folded.
“Have a wonderful time,” she says, gently. But, I know there’s a but coming. “But when you get back, it’s decision time.”
See.
“Fine,” I say, turning from her.
“Sorry, hun, but you’ve had enough time.”
“OK,” I snap, opening the door. I take a deep breath. “Sorry. OK.”
She nods at me, then her face breaks into a wide smile; she’s back in bon voyage mode.
“Go. You and Roxy have the best time, but please be sensible or I’ll regret letting you go on your own,” she says, “and don’t forget to tell Damon Van—”
“Goodbye!” I shout, drowning out her voice as I trundle through the door and down the steps.
Roxy’s waiting in her car, the Vampire Falls theme blasting through the open window.
“Ready for Damon Van Schwartz?” she shouts over the music.
“Yes!” I squeal as I run to her car, my suitcase clonking into my heels – but I feel no pain, for this is the greatest day of the year. “Ready for SFX magazine’s eleventh greatest TV actress of all time, Amber Anderson?”
“The real question is,” says Roxy, getting out, “is she ready for me?”
I launch myself at her and we do a jumpy dance, squeezing and squeeing. We walk to the back of her car, still doing springy steps of joy, and Roxy opens the boot. Her suitcase is tucked into the boot among bags filled with crisps and chocolate and rosé and vodka.
Air whistles out of the inflated balloon that is my soul as the sight of the vodka reminds me of the heinous events of the party. I can still taste the vodka jelly travelling up my nose.
“Hey?” says Roxy.
I look at her. “Hmm?”
“No frowning. There’s no place for frowning on convention day, Eliza Gellar.” She points at my face, her finger so close to my nose I have to lean back. “What’s that about?”
“Sorry, it’s that,” I say, nodding at the vodka and suppressing the urge to gag.
“Oh. Poor hungover Eliza.” Roxy smirks. “Sucks for you.”
“I’m not hungover. I’m just . . . tired.”
“Right, OK. Tired,” she says, squeezing my stuff in the boot. “But do not dwell, because even if you throw up all over yourself and fart the national anthem this weekend, nobody will care. Our people won’t care.”
“Our people.” I smile, then look down at my outfit. I turn to Roxy and tug the bottom of my white T-shirt. “Can you totally see my bra through this top?”
“No, Eliza, I cannot see your bra through that top,” she sighs, pushing on my suitcase and not even lookingat me or my T-shirt.
“I couldn’t see it when you FaceTimed me while I was eating my Coco Pops, and I couldn’t see it in the wide variety of angles you sent on WhatsApp either. Nobody can see your bra.”
“But if I stand . . .”
“No more. Do not say bra.” She holds her hand up to me and looks at her watch. “We need to go if you want to stop for coffee?”
“Of course I want to stop for coffee,” I say, pulling the boot down. “We always stop for coffee.”
“Get your arse in the car then, and let the fun commence!” she says, clapping her hands. “My brother borrowed the car for a uni trip last weekend. Sorry if it still smells of boy.”
I don’t care if the car smells of boy. I wouldn’t care if it smelt of rancid old cheese. I race round to the passenger door and climb in; the Vampire Falls theme embracing me by my ears.
“You know, next time we do this we’ll probably be going straight to Bristol together,” she says, pulling off the driveway. “Did you hear about your accommodation choices yet?”
I shake my head, then, halfway up the road, I gasp and turn to her.
“Did you bring the highlighters!?”
“Yes,” she says, not taking her eyes off the road.
“How many?” I ask.
“Four. Two each in case one runs out.”
I nod. Phew. One time, I lost my highlighter and had to underline the talks and autograph sessions in the schedule using a blue biro, like some kind of savage.
“Get that Haribo open,” Roxy says.
Yes, Haribo for breakfast, another convention road trip ritual. I gleefully pull the pack open, take seven and give Roxy some hearts, then glance down at my t-shirt again.
“Are you sure you can’t see my bra?”
“Surer than I have ever been in my life about anything,” she says without looking at me.
I smile, satisfied that my undergarments aren’t on show.
Each of my outfits is planned down to the finest of details.
Comfy onesies to roll down to breakfast in, outfits specific to the eye colour of which guests we’re having photos with, and, of course, the cosplay outfits for each of the parties.
The party themes for each night are as follows: Masquerade (overdone), Full Moon Diner (yes), Vampire Falls Zombie Apocalypse (like it, really a lot) and Ghosts and Gargoyles (meh).
Four nights of cosplay, four nights of nerd joy.
“Did you watch the pilot yet?” asks Roxy, tapping the steering wheel along to the music. I look at her. “Midnight in Portland.”
I nod and look out the window.“It was shit.”
“What?” Roxy glances at me and shakes her head. “You haven’t watched it.”
“I have. I mean, I watched the cold open and the credits. The theme was terrible, like, kill me with a cello bow now. Depressing. And the quality was awful. Most of it was blurry and pixelated.”
“Because it’s not supposed to have been shared yet. It’s a production leak,” she says. “Watch it, babe, honestly. Definite Vampire Falls vibes, with a different angle. There’s already fan fiction on Wattpad.”
“I don’t care about fan fiction any more,” I say, bristling a little. I used to carry a spiral-bound Vampire Falls notepad around at all times, in case inspiration struck, but not for a while now. “And spin-offs are always shit.”
“Reckon this won’t be, from what I saw. I hope it gets picked up. Apparently, one of the main actor guys is in rehab or something.”
“Hmmm,” I say, digging a ring out of the Haribo bag.
“Your refusal to try anything remotely new is adorable, Eliza.”
“I don’t need to try it; I have Vampire Falls to fill my obsession quota, thank you.”
I remember the day said obsession with Vampire Falls started like it was my wedding day, and I know that doesn’t make sense as I’m yet to marry or even, like, meet someone I can stand being around, but nevertheless, it was a defining moment.
Just like every good story starts, I was skiving school due to (not-that-bad) cramps courtesy of Aunt Flo.
Mum came into the living room with a hot water bottle and Marmite on toast, telling me about a new thing on Netflix.
The creator was inspired by some vampire show Mum watched back in the dark ages, and she wanted us to watch it together.
Too weak from blood loss to resist, I agreed.
At that point in my life, I was still searching for an Eliza-shaped space to slot into, but nothing fit properly.
Or I didn’t fit properly. School was hideous because I didn’t get my peers and they didn’t get me (apart from Roxy, who I believe was sent to me from heaven).
Gymnastics wasn’t fun any more because the girls at my club decided I wasn’t worth their effort as I wasn’t competitive enough, and I got kicked out of the school orchestra because I drummed too enthusiastically according to the music teacher.
Lila Murphy, played by Megan Nicole Jefferies, who’d isolated herself at her last school because she could speak to dead people, arriving in Vistoria Falls and finding a gang of misfits who became cooler and more attractive with each scene, was that Eliza-shaped space I’d been searching for.
I swear, I felt my soul sighing with relief.