1. Piper
Bars are always packed full of idiots on Halloween. I didn't expect my new favorite little cocktail joint, Moonshine, to be any different. I was so desperate to get my newly single ass out of the house that I didn't care.
“That’s a great costume,” a male voice near my ear says. The bar is crowded, so I don’t judge him for standing close to me. He isn’t actually touching me, just hovering near my shoulder while he waits his turn to order a drink.
“Thank you.” I prepare a half smile before I turn around, ready to patiently accept yet another well intentioned compliment that's completely off the mark.
“You must not read from the book!” The voice quotes with a light chuckle, trying to match the cadence of the line from The Mummy .
“Oh! You know the movie!” I’m excited someone finally ‘gets’ my Halloween costume. A white button-down, long khaki skirt, and loosely tied black scarf. I was excited to think of something I could wear with my glasses. I can’t see shit without them, and contacts have always bothered my eyes. The costume has turned out more obscure than I expected. I’ve already endured a half- dozen incorrect guesses about who I’m dressed as ? ? 1 . It’s exciting to find someone who actually gets it. I spin in place, avoiding touching the other patrons, to find out what my new favorite person looks like.
Large red eyes examine me from a wholly inhuman face. He’s tall, made taller by the skinny, curling, feather-like antennae rising from his head. His frame is slender, with narrow shoulders, and a thick fur collar around his neck. His skin is dark, covered in the softest looking fur I’ve ever seen. A strange urge flutters through me to reach out and stroke my fingers along his arm, curious if he feels as velvety as he looks. A pair of moth wings are folded neatly against his shoulders, out of the way of the crowd.
I’m taken back when I realize, this is not a Halloween costume. He is a real-life Mothman.
Then I notice that, actually, he is wearing a Halloween costume. A blue shirt with a small insignia on the chest, and plastered to each side of his head is a pointy piece of plastic.
“Spock?” I ask.
“Yes!” One of the strange mandibles around his mouth tips up in an expression that could only be interpreted as a smile.
It’s surprisingly endearing. I surprise myself by blushing in response. I’m not usually attracted to people this quickly. Most of the time, I have to feel a connection before I find someone hot. Being newly single might have opened my eyes to a world of possibilities.
“You’re Rachel Weisz from The Mummy . Right?” He breaks the silence between us, and I realize I am staring.
“Oh, yeah! Yes!” My nervous fingers adjust my glasses and make sure my hair is secure in its bun.
“It’s a great movie,” he says.
“Right? It was something of a bi-awakening for me.” An awkward laugh bubbles out of me. “I probably shouldn’t say that to a stranger.”
People, men in particular, get weird about the bi thing sometimes ? ? 2 .
“I get it. The same, basically. I had a little crush on Brendan and Rachel both,” he says so smoothly that I instantly relax. A guy can’t be too bad if he had a childhood crush on Brendan Fraser, right?
“What are you drinking?” His antennae point to the bar behind me. The movement is fascinating.
I’ve seen plenty of cryptids in public spaces since the Decrypting fifteen years ago, when mythical creatures stopped being myths and started joining human society. Passing a Kraken on the street is different than trying to flirt with a handsome Mothman who is clearly trying not to encroach on my personal space.
“Getting some Beetle Gin and Juice shots for me and my friends. Girls night.” I nod to the table of women waiting for me in the corner. Crap. Was that a shut-down? Spending almost four years with the same man made me rusty at flirting. Not that I was ever very good. How do you imply you are newly single and potentially ready to mingle?
“How many?” He seems undeterred.
“Six?” When I hear the insecure rise of my tone that turns the word into a question, I correct. “Six. Two for each of us!” My voice is more decisive this time, like feigning confidence might get him to find me attractive.
The Mothman’s antennae rise, and he catches the attention of the bartender behind me. “Six of the themed shots.” He gestures toward me. The bartender nods and starts pouring from a premixed pitcher. “On my tab, please.”
“Oh no, I can pay for my own drinks!” I blurt, sliding my at-ready credit card from my sleeve and holding it toward the Mothman using both hands, like it’s some kind of placard to prove I’m a real adult, with real money. Not a lot of money, but I’m not here to scam free drinks out of people.
He glances down at the piece of plastic clenched between my fingers. Crap. That was the wrong thing to say. Flirting involves buying each other drinks. This is a sign he’s interested. Isn’t it? Or maybe I’m just taking too long at the bar, and the guy wants me out of the way. I should say something to encourage him to stay and talk to me. Something hot, or sexy, or funny. I’ve never been very good at hot, or sexy. I’d better stick with funny.
Crap. I’m still holding out my credit card like an idiot.
“Do you…Do you frequently find human behavior illogical?” I’m already cringing internally.
“Yes.” His smile doesn’t falter. Maybe I am reading his expression wrong. I am so far out of my element here.
I glance around his arm, to where my friends Anam and Kelly wait. Either one of them would know how to flirt with a Mothman. They’re good at this kind of stuff, and by ‘stuff’ I mean talking to people. Anam catches my eye from across the room. I try to give her a pleading expression without actually moving any of the muscles in my face. She might be able to catch a glint in my eye that telepathically shouts, ‘help me, I’ve forgotten how to flirt’ .
When I look back, the Mothman is staring at me. Despite the packed bar, my ears are full of the silence lingering between us.
One antenna raises a few inches. “Come on, Piper, your money’s no good here.” A little purr in his voice sends a shiver down my spine.
“You know my name?”
He raises a hand, it's large. Like, really large. The skin dark like his fur, his nails long but dull. One long slender finger pokes at the clearly displayed name on my credit card. I wince.
“You didn’t memorize the number too, did you?” I bark out a nervous laugh and then force myself to stop. Crap, the laugh is embarrassing.
“What if I did?” He’s definitely interested in me; there’s no other way to interpret the way he puts a little purr in his voice as he leans forward.
The bartender pushes my drinks forward and pours the Mothman something without asking.
“Do you come here often?” I let myself laugh this time. So he will know that I’m joking.
The Mothman shrugs. “Often enough to know you've been here before.” He reaches around me slowly, his arm grazing mine as he collects his beverage. I feel a little heat creep up my cheeks.
I started coming here a lot when Colin and I moved into an apartment nearby a couple months ago. It can be tricky to find a good bar in a new neighborhood. Moonshine is a great place, with a perfectly cozy atmosphere. It’s frequently crowded, but rarely packed. With plenty of seating for the nights they project movies on the large screen behind the stage, and plenty of floor space to dance when there is music, like tonight. It’s their monthly silent disco. The tables are pushed to the side and in one corner a DJ spins a spooky Halloween mix through wireless headphones, so you can control the volume of your own music.
“You want some help with those?” The Mothman nods to my small tray of drinks. I begin to shake my head, change my mind, and open my mouth to say yes when Kelly pushes over to me.
“Hey, Piper! What’s taking so long?” She steps between me and the Mothman, her expression reads she thinks she's doing me a favor.
The Mothman doesn’t say anything else, giving me a tiny nod before he retreats into the crowd.
“Shit. Sorry, did I clam jam you? I mean, you weren’t into the cryptid, were you?” Kelly asks.
“I’m not even sure if he was interested in me.” I grab our drinks and push past her to head back to our table. I’m a little disappointed the Mothman gave up so quickly. Who wants to flirt with the woman wearing a shin length khaki skirt to the bar? I thought the outfit was cute at home, but standing here surrounded by gorgeous women in skimpy outfits, I feel a bit dowdy. No one is going to pick me when there’s a sexy blonde devil in a bright red corset that pushes her boobs up to her neck available.
I should have shoved my boobs up to my neck.
Instead, I’ve got them squirreled away behind a starched white button-down. My boobs have always been my best feature. Colin loved them. Although, he didn’t necessarily love when I wore tops showing them off.
I guess I’m allowed to show them to anyone I want now. Next year, I’ll wear a fun, slutty costume and let everyone enjoy them. The Mothman wouldn't have walked away if I was wearing something he could see my boobs in.
Kelly and I make it all the way back to our table, where Anam waits, before I cave into my urge to check over my shoulder to see what the Mothman is doing.
I think he’s staring in my direction. With his compound eyes, I can’t tell exactly which direction he’s looking, until he holds up his hand, clawed fingers separated into the Vulcan ‘live long and prosper’ salute. Classic Spock move. That makes me feel a little less like an idiot.
There was something between us; it wasn’t entirely my imagination. I feel a satisfying heat creep up my cheeks. I can do this. I can be single. I can flirt.
“To Kelly’s potential art show!” Anam interrupts my thoughts by holding up one of the shots for a toast.
“Here here!” Kelly agrees as she picks up a shot glass. “And to Anam’s grant being awarded!”
Anam pumps her fist in the air. “And to Piper getting laid tonight!”
“I don’t know about that.” I laugh, and I clink my glass with theirs anyway.
“To Piper being single and finally having some fun!” Anam says.
I agree more enthusiastically to that suggestion before choking back the shot. Fun. Right. I thought I was having fun. I thought I had life neatly sorted. Good job, cute apartment, committed boyfriend. On my way to marriage and kids and home ownership ? ? 3 . I'm not sure what I did wrong to make Colin leave.
“Was he a real cryptid?” Kelly asks the second her empty shot glass hits the tabletop. She adjusts the hem of her short black cocktail dress. It highlights her running toned legs, and slim frame. Her long brown hair is pulled into a French twist. She looks elegant and sexy, because Kelly knows her strengths.
“Did he try to hit on you?” Anam yells, because once she gets drunk she begins speaking at twice the volume she thinks she is. She’s wearing a low cut sexy bee costume, with letters cut out of construction paper taped all over her outfit. A ‘Spelling Bee’, because Anam also knows her strengths, humor and boobs.
“Yes? No? I don’t know? He paid for these drinks,” I admit.
“Ooo. Promising! You into him?” Anam asks very loudly.
“I don’t know…do you guys think he’s cute?” I twist my shot glass, making patterns with the rings of condensation on the tabletop. Kelly raises her eyebrows at me.
“I heard cryptids have huge monster dongs!” Anam holds her hands out to represent an impossibly long penis. “In the name of science, I’ll need you to perform field research, and report your findings for peer review via text message tomorrow morning!”
“I don’t really think he was into me,” I say tentatively, hoping one of them will disagree with me.
“Don’t be ridiculous, of course he was.” Kelly always steps up to the plate. “I only intervened because you looked like a deer caught in headlights. I thought you needed rescuing. If you like him, go over there and talk to him!”
I risk a glance over my shoulder again. The Mothman isn’t looking at me any more, he’s talking to the busty devil, who actually knows what to do with her breasts.
“It looks like he found a better prospect.” I tell my hot friends. They look equally cute and holiday themed. I’m the only nerd who decided to dress in a maxi skirt, long sleeves, and thick-rimmed glasses on what’s supposed to be the sexiest adult holiday.
“Don’t be an idiot,” Anam scoffs. “You are hot shit, and we all know it! You’ve got a giant brain and big tits to match!”
My brain is the problem. I’m always trying to be so fucking clever. All I wanted was for Colin to do a cute couple’s costume with me. He was never into cutesy couple stuff. He only agreed to be my Brendan Fraser because it was easy to do. By myself I’m borderline unrecognizable. Now I’m walking around the bar looking like a lonely dork, and feeling like my life is starting over at twenty-nine.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say. “I don’t think I’m ready for another relationship this soon.”
“Relationship?!” Anam laughs. “No baby girl! We are getting you laid tonight! No strings! No fuss! One night of sex!”
Beside her, Kelly shrugs. Kelly’s been with her boyfriend almost as long as I’d been with Colin. Anam is our perpetually single friend. The one who feels actual joy when meeting new people. She loves that stuff, a new guy every weekend, hip restaurants, trendy bars, loud music, the kinds of things that make me exhausted just thinking about them.
I squirm a little. “It’s only been a week.”
“The best way to get over someone is to get under someone new!” Anam puts her hand over her heart like she is making a vow.
Kelly giggles. “Anam’s right. Doesn’t a one-night stand sound like it would hit the spot?”
“A bit of strange, after three years of the same bland thing?” Anam sticks her tongue out suggestively. “A new dick, or pussy, or whatever the Mothman is packing down there.”
“I don’t know, I’ve never done it before.”
“What? A Mothman?” Anam blurts.
“A one-night stand,” I mutter.
Anam gasps, clutching her chest in mock horror.
“Seriously?” Kelly’s surprise sounds genuine.
I stare at the table, feeling a little embarrassed. “It never seemed like something I would enjoy. I didn’t look for the opportunity.”
“Girl. This is the perfect chance!” Anam wraps her hands around my shoulders to shake me gently.
“I don’t know…Colin hasn’t even moved out completely.”
His boxes are still in our spare bedroom. MY spare bedroom. The bedroom that, two months ago, on move-in day, Colin held my hand and said, ‘maybe this could be a baby’s room some day’.
Now, he’s got a new job, he’s moved across the country, and he doesn’t even want to give long distance a try.
Crap, I gotta stop thinking about the guy who dumped me for a job.
“Screw him! He is an ass!” Anam announces. “You can do much better! You are smart and fun and sexy, and did I already mention smart? You are so smart! And you run your own business, and any guy would be lucky to snap you up! And you are so pretty and sexy and smart!” Anam tugs me into a hug, pulling me tight against her body, putting a little too much of her weight on me as she almost loses her footing.
The arrangement of empty glasses on our table imply she’s taken more than her fair share of the shots. Which is fine. I’m too sad to drink tonight. Some sadness is complemented by alcohol, but tonight feels like it will end better if I go home sober.
Sober, and alone, to my big empty apartment.
“Come on! Let’s dance your worries away.” Anam pops her headphones on for the silent disco and immediately squeals. “Oh my god. This is our song! We have to dance!”
She points to the headphones and backs her way onto the dance floor, beckoning for us to join her as she shakes her ample booty.
I slip my own headphones on and turn the volume up. I don’t remember ever declaring a remix of Rihanna’s Disturbia was ‘our song’, but I don’t argue with Anam’s infectiously good mood. I let her coax me onto the crowded dance floor.
The room itself is relatively quiet, and the music is perfectly loud in my ears, so it’s easy to forget that people can actually see us. My friends and I bump and grind around the dance floor, having fun as three women, just existing.
After a few songs dancing with my friends I’ve actually managed to banish Colin from my thoughts when I spot the Mothman again.
Staring right at me.