Chapter 9
Daisy
Two weeks.
That’s how long it’s been since Ethan stormed out, since I pawned the necklace, since my last semi-decent night of sleep, too.
Work’s been steady, college has been overwhelming, and the rent is still unpaid.
And Korithax? Yeah, he’s been as absent as my dad—hauntingly present in my thoughts, yet never actually there.
I keep expecting to see him in mirrors, or lurking on street corners, or lounging in my damn closet like some cryptid with wings.
But no, not even a flicker of his smoke.
Just silence, and recurring nightmares. They’re the same ones I’ve had since I was a kid.
Always dark, always having me waking up, clawing at my sheets like they’ve tried to swallow me whole.
I visited my mom’s grave last weekend. I try and do it at least once a month, to go by and visit her.
This time, I ended up staying so much longer than usual.
I didn’t say much, because what could I say?
“Hi, Mom, I miss you. Also, turns out demons are real, and one of them may or may not technically own me now. Hope you’re proud.
” Instead, I brought along some daisies which are her favourite.
I know, how ironic. And sat cross-legged on the grass whilst I tried not to cry.
I succeeded, instead opting to watch the clouds and telling her about everything that I could say.
That I was tired, but I was trying so very hard to always be the sun.
My dad hasn’t called since the last conversation. No surprise there, though, since I’m used to it now.
When I reach campus, it’s buzzing. Noisy in the way only October on a college campus can be. Everyone’s excited, high on the scent of fall and pumpkin-spiced caffeine. And there are bright flyers taped to every lamp post, tree, and available flat surface. Neon orange and dripping in glitter:
“THE UNHOLY MASQUERADE”
Costume Party — Saturday Night. Bring your alter ego. Make sure it’s sexy.
Talia finds me outside the cafeteria, practically vibrating with excitement. She’s flapping one of the flyers at me like she’s won a golden ticket.
“You’re going!” She declares. No questions, just demands.
I blink at her. “Good morning to you, too.”
She loops her arm through mine. “No distractions, no excuses. Costumes, mystery, potential makeouts. Maybe even blood sacrifices, who knows? It’s college.” She shrugs, grinning from ear to ear.
“I don’t think blood sacrifices are actually legal,” I mutter, tugging my hoodie sleeves over my hands to hide them from the cold.
Ezra appears beside us like a conjured spell a moment later, iced coffee in hand, dripping with rhinestones and oozing chaos as usual.
“I already have my outfit picked out,” he announces, swirling the straw. “It’s glam. It’s dramatic. It may involve body glitter. Ugh, you’ll love it!”
“Of course it does,” I say, cracking a smile.
“You need this,” Talia says, tugging me closer with a look that says no arguments. “Just one night. One party. No Ethan, no stress. Just music, glitter, and pretending we’re not all having existential dread over deadlines. Come as something dangerous for once.”
I laugh, but hesitate.
“She’s tempted,” Ezra singsongs. “I can see it in her sad little orphan eyes.”
I shove him playfully. “Fine, I’ll go. But I am not wearing anything ridiculous!” I say in a stern tone, specifically to Ezra.
Talia and Ezra exchange a look that’s nothing short of villainous. Gods above and below, what the Hell have I gotten myself into?
Friday comes fast, too fast.
Somehow, time manages to crawl and spring at the same damn time.
I’m broke, I’m tired, and I’ve skipped three proper meals this week, unless you count espresso shots and breath mints.
But for once, I’m kind of… excited? Not in a scream-it-from-the-rooftops kinda way.
More like a quiet little flutter in my chest that doesn’t feel like dread kind of way.
Ethan has a game the night of the party, some inter-college thing with a team whose mascot looks like a depressed walrus.
So he’ll be occupied, which means I’m officially free to enjoy myself without side-eyes, passive-aggressive comments, or that weird habit he has of checking my phone screen when he thinks I’m not looking.
I’m curled up on my couch in my favourite oversized jumper, dog-earing pages in a fantasy novel I’ve read three times before.
Something about cursed lovers, enchanted knives, and a heroine with absolutely unhinged energy.
It’s my comfort read, and I even put a sparkly gel pen bubble around my favourite quote: “Remember that even the sunshine can be deadly.” I smile at that one every time.
My tiny apartment smells like vanilla wax melts and cheap perfume, which honestly feels like an absolute win compared to last week’s burnt toast and sadness combo. I’ve even lit a birthday cake scented candle to elevate my mood.
There’s a knock at my door, one so rhythmic and dramatic I just know it’s Ezra.
“Your saviours have arrived!” He declares the moment I open the door.
Talia sweeps in behind him like a woman on a mission, marching straight into my bedroom and tossing a garment bag onto my bed with a devilish grin.
“Costume delivery. No refunds, no take-backs, and absolutely no refusals.”
I follow her through the bedroom, glancing down at the mystery bag. “I didn’t order anything.”
“We know,” Ezra says from the kitchen.
I can hear him opening the fridge and cringe, knowing it’s utterly freaking bare.
“Still empty.” He mutters. Ass.
I pad over to the bed and unzip the bag, already bracing myself for disaster. And—oh no. Oh no no no. It’s red, skimpy, and sinfully short. Oh gods, there are horns… and a freaking tail.
“You got me a devil costume?”
“A sexy devil costume,” Ezra corrects, leaning over me to pluck the tail from the bag. “With glitter. You’re welcome.”
Talia flops onto the bed, positioning herself against my pillows. “We figured you’d hesitate or wear something boring. So, we took creative liberty.”
I pull out the headband, the horns sparkling like pointy disco balls. They’re most definitely not to scale if my memory serves me right. I stare at them, then at the costume before tracking my eyes to my best friends who are lying together, practically vibrating with anticipation.
“You’re wearing it!” Ezra says with an exaggerated finger wag. “And you’re coming over to my house to pre-game. Your shift is covered.”
“You what?” I ask, plopping the outfit back into its bag.
“The manager owed me a favour,” Talia says sweetly, kicking her shoes off so she can get comfortable. “I cashed it in. You’re off the hook, sunshine.”
I open my mouth to protest, but—ugh. They’re right. I haven’t had fun in forever, and the idea of dressing up, dancing, and not having to go to work on a Saturday? It sounds magical. I sigh, but I can’t contain the smile that lights up across my face.
“Fine. I’ll wear the stupid costume.”
Ezra claps dramatically, springing to his feet so he can jump up and down on my bed. “The sun becomes a slutty devil. I love it!”
“I’m not wearing the freaking tail,” I cut in, narrowing my eyes.
“You say that now,” he grins, flopping back down on the bed, panting for air. He reaches for his tote and pulls out a bunch of eyeshadow pallets, spreading them out across the bed. “Just wait until you see what I have planned for you.”
He beckons me over, and I giggle as I plant myself on the bed by him whilst he opens each palette one by one, pointing at different shades of reds and pinks.
I love listening to Ezra talk about makeup; his entire face just lights up whenever it’s the topic of conversation.
He settles on a deep red and a sparkly black colour, claiming they’ll make my ‘ocean blue’s pop’.
Whatever the hell that means. I look at my two incredible best friends and smile, thinking about the party.
Gods help me, I think I’m actually excited.
Ezra’s bathroom becomes my transformation chamber.
I stare at myself in the mirror. Red corset.
Fishnets. Horns tilted slightly. The tail dangles mockingly from the counter, because absolutely not.
I look insane, in the best kind of way, but still insane.
Like I fell out of a “Devils Who Slay” Pinterest board and landed straight in Hot Topic’s clearance aisle.
And for some reason, that makes me laugh.
Not a cute, ladylike laugh either. A full-bodied, wheezing, ugly-cry giggle that has my eyes watering and my stomach cramping.
Just a few weeks ago, my soul was sold to a demon with a lethal face card.
And now here I am, dressed up as a dollar-store version of a dominatrix from hell with dark red eyeshadow, lipstick to match, and winged eyeliner, ready for a frat party.
It’s not funny… but it also kind of is. Because if I don’t laugh, I might cry, and I refuse to cry tonight.
Because tonight, I’m going to have fun, I’m going to drink, and I’m going to dance until my thighs hurt.
When I finally calm down and step out of the bathroom, Ezra’s apartment is vibrating.
Bass-heavy pop thunders through the speakers, the scent of setting spray, cheap vodka, and overly sweet perfume clings to the air.
Talia’s lounging across the arm of the couch in a black leather catsuit so tight I’m pretty sure it’ll have to be surgically removed.
Her chestnut-brown hair’s slicked back into a high ponytail, her cheekbones contoured so sharply she’s bordering on looking like Maleficent.
She’s sipping pink tequila from a mason jar and scrolling through her texts, probably seeing who she’s going to hook up with tonight.