CHAPTER THIRTEEN
VIGGO RASSMUSSEN
First, there’s blood. Then you have music.
Vampire Falls. Season seven, episode three – “Say It Again”
After downing a couple of glasses of water and eating Fake McKinley’s protein bar, my heart has stopped racing from the surge of adrenaline that got me across those chairs and onto the stage.
I’m not thinking about the other people who may or may not have helped me or whether they’re playing mind games. I’m not thinking about that at all.
Bring Me the Ghost are on fire. Damon Van Schwartz on vocals was born to front a band, as well as to play Viggo Rassmussen.
And do all his humanitarian bollocks, of course.
Halfway through “Smile/Cry”, which is the percussion-heavy song that made me resurrect my drumming career, I got overexcited and bit my tongue, so now we’re having a little sit down.
We’re at a table with a couple of Malcorr demons who’ve been shouting muffled accusations at each other and now face away, one with its arms folded and the other scrolling on their phone. Love is hard, even for Malcorr demons.
Damon Van Schwartz closes his eyes and whispers the opening lines of “Person of Mine”, from their second album, also from the season two episode, “Not Now”.
The crowd screams and everyone loops arms, swaying to what is basically Viggo and Juliana’s theme song.
I search the crowd and spot Charlie Chamberlain, Vivian pressed up against his side, shouting something in his ear.
He nods, smiling at whatever she’s said. I turn to Roxy.
“Do you think he knew she was coming?”
“Obviously,” says Roxy, not even asking who I’m talking about.
“Why obviously?” I say, looking Vivian up and down.
Her dress is amazing; sort of Morticia Addams shaped but in bright, blood red. Her bum looks incredible. And her boobs. It should be illegal to have both a good bum and good boobs.
“Because they’re friends,” shrugs Roxy.
“Why are they friends though?” I say, curling my lip as Vivian starts dancing like one of the pros on Strictly.
“People probably wonder the same about us, babe.”
“Funny.”
Roxy leans forward and ruffles my (very sweaty) hair.
“And I’d tell them, Eliza Gellar, it’s because you’re so adorable, and not at all obsessive.”
“Obsessive? Me? How am I obsessive?” Roxy finishes her drink and raises an eyebrow. I turn in my seat and get as close to her face as I can, in case she didn’t hear me, not because I’m obsessive. “Tell me right now! What do you mean, obsessive!?”
Roxy shakes her head and laughs (what is she laughing at?!) then stands and pulls me out of my seat.
“Time to dance, my low-maintenance friend.”
“Fine, but I’m not enjoying myself until you tell me what you mean by obsessive.”
Roxy grabs my hand and spins me round, which obviously makes me wildly enjoy myself but halfway through my spin I spot someone who isn’t. The guy in the McKinley costume is watching everyone from the side of the dance floor, alone again. I elbow Roxy and she looks round.
“He looks so lost,” she says, as he runs a finger along the inside neck of his mask. “I mean, as lost as a werewolf can look.”
“Right? I haven’t seen him with anyone; I think he might be here on his own.” He jumps out of the way of a couple of vampires twirling each other round. I look up at Roxy. “Shall I?”
Roxy nods.
“You shall,” she says, nodding. “I’m getting drinks. See you in a minute.”
I walk over and have to stand on my tiptoes and wave in front of his snout before he registers me.
“Sorry,” he says, shaking his head and pointing at his mask. “I’m smiling at you under here. Hey.”
“Hey,” I respond and gesture at the costume, “are you sure you don’t want some water?”
His snout bounces up and down, so I turn and catch Roxy’s eye, mouthing for her to get him a water. She nods, and I turn back. He’s watching the band, nodding his head to the music.
“They’re good right?” I say.
He looks down at me. I wish he’d take that mask off.The glassy eyes remind me of taxidermy. Not that I’ve been around much taxidermy, but I listened to a podcast once.
“Sorry?” he says, leaning closer and putting his hand up to his ear. His wolf ear.
“The band,” I say, louder this time. “Aren’t they great?”
“So good,” he says, nodding. “I actually saw them last year but didn’t know who they were. Just thought they were a cool band.”
“Where?” I ask.
“In LA.”
“LA?” I repeat.
“Sorry?”
“You’ve been to LA?” I shout over the music.
He looks at me through those marble-like eyes, but someone shoves past and I fall into his wolf chest.
“You OK?” he says, putting his hands out to steady me.
“Yeah, I’m OK,” I reply, checking I haven’t had a wardrobe malfunction.
“Everyone looks amazing,” he says, his snout following someone dressed as a masquerade-ball version of Juliana as they walk past us. “You all really go for the costume stuff, right?”
“You tell me, McKinley,” I say, pointing at his suit.
“McKinley?” he says, looking down, then nodding. “Oh, right. McKinley, yeah. I actually . . .”
He carries on talking but I can barely hear him over the music and through his mask. I step closer and cock my head, trying to follow what he’s saying.
“Sorry?” I say.
“I said, I’m sort of new to watching the show so don’t know all the characters properly yet . . .”
“Oh, right.”
“Yeah, and I wanted to go for something easy, so it was either this werewolf costume or the guy in the robe thing . . . what’s his name . . .”
Unsurprisingly, robe things make quite a few appearances in Vampire Falls so I’m not sure who he’s talking about.
“I can’t hear you,” I say, shaking my head as he goes on.
“I said, it was either this guy or that other dude, Cox the Observer.”
“Who?” I say, turning my ear to him.
“Cox the Observer,” he repeats, louder.
“Oh,” I shout, realising he’s talking about one of my favourite characters, “I love Cox!”
Yeah. Yeah, I shouted that just as the song finished and there was a couple of seconds of silence, but long enough to shout that out nice and clear. Everyone in the vicinity is staring, including Fake McKinley.
“I didn’t mean it like . . .” I implore to them all, my voice drowned out by the start of the next song.
They give me a quick look up and down then turn back to the stage. Roxy pushes through the dance floor and joins us.
“Oh my god, did you just—” I blurt.
“Hear you shout I love Cox?” she cuts in, handing me a beer. “Yes, babe.”
Fake McKinley hasn’t deserted us, so he hasn’t taken my declaration the wrong way. Roxy hands him a bottle of water.
“Thank you,” he says, looking at it in his paw. He tries the lid, but between the gloves and his obscured vision he can’t manage it. “Sorry, can you hold it for me a minute.”
“Sure,” says Roxy, taking the water back as he reaches up and starts pulling his mask off.
All the shouting has made my throat dry, so I push the lime into the top of the bottle ready for a cool swig, as I watch Fake McKinley pull his head off. I mean, not his actual head, because his head is . . . wow.
He’s like something off a dating show for the top tier of beautiful types.
As I gape at him (correction: Roxy and I both gape at him) my beer erupts over my hand so I do the only thing a sane person would do and shove the bottle neck into my mouth. Foam rises up my nostrils and I start coughing, the sour taste flooding my throat.
Roxy claps me on my back, my eyes bulging out of the sockets.
“Are you OK?” asks Fake McKinley, looking down at me with deep, dark brown eyes. Umber, I’d say in fact. Possibly even burnt umber. “Can I get you something?”
“Love Island . . .” I splutter.
He straightens up and scratches his beard.
His thick hair glistens with sweat and there are tiny, sweaty curls against his neck and forehead, like one of those cherub paintings you see – but those cherubs are always blond, and his hair is jet black.
He’s handsome. Incredibly handsome. He’s like a tall, handsome, slightly sweaty, cherub-man.
“What did she say?” he asks, peering at Roxy.
“Nothing,” she says, rubbing my back. “We’ll be back in a minute.”
She steers me towards the toilets, leaving him looking very puzzled.
“I was not expecting that,” I wheeze.
“Neither was I, babe,” she says. “Good call taking pity on the insanely handsome dude.”
“Yeah, go me,” I croak, clearing my throat. I look up at her. “Did I say Love Island?”
“It was more of a gurgle. But I think he was probably distracted by the beer dribbling out of your nose.”