Chapter Twenty
“You look nice,” says Zarmenus.
“Thanks,” I say, giving him a quick smile. It’s all I can muster.
To his credit, over the past few days he has stuck to his chore chart, and his side of the room is neater than it used to be. But he only ever does what’s on the chore chart, meaning he’s left clothes on the floor and hasn’t taken the trash out even though his bin is full.
Do I really need to tell him to do every little thing?
Plus, he brought that doll in, which is now sitting on his desk, so it’s constantly watching me with its black button eyes.
It might just be my mind playing tricks on me, but it feels like more than just a doll.
Like, when I’m trying to read, it feels like it’s actually watching me, and I’m too scared to move it into a drawer or something, as there’s this creeping fear that something bad will happen if I do that.
Zarmenus and I both going to the same event tonight: Point Pandemonium, a dance night that has taken over the Hub, one of the central buildings on campus.
There has been a promise of free food and drinks, as well as games and a DJ.
Zarmenus is going to go with his friends, and I’m going with Tyrell and the rest of his friends.
Zarmenus is already ready for tonight. He’s wearing all black again, this time a tight-fitting shirt, jeans, and pointed boots.
It’s a great look. As annoyed at him as I am sometimes, I can give him credit when credit is due, and he does know how to look good.
He tried on a few different outfits for tonight, and he’s left all the clothes around the floor.
His lunch from earlier, a burrito bowl, was tossed into the bin, but still, my emotions feel volatile.
It’s to the point I’ve even started to reconsider Leeke’s offer, which is surprising to me.
I also know that I probably never will; the prospect of the internship is too great to give up on.
But a part of me wishes I could. And every second I find myself thinking about the situation, trying to justify giving up and asking if I can move out.
It’s not like me to give up on something that could be so beneficial for my future, but I’m not sure how much longer I can take living here, unless things somehow change.
“Ready to go?” asks Zarmenus.
His question surprises me. Even though we’re going to the same event, I didn’t think we would walk together.
But the thought is kind of nice, and I really do appreciate that he seems to be trying.
And, like, I do get it, in some way. He is literally a prince of Hell, which from the sounds of things isn’t all that different from being a prince here.
He’s been pampered and spoiled his entire life.
If I had been raised that way, I’m sure I would’ve turned out the same. I might even be worse.
“I just need to put my shoes on,” I say.
I grab my white Converse and pull them on. Zarmenus kills the time by petting Bell, who is purring loudly. For a second I think about how cute she is, but then I remember she tried to eat my soul. As I put my shoes on, Bell jumps onto my bed and meows, demanding to be petted.
I give in and scratch the top of her head. I’ve been spending more than I’d like to on antihistamines, but it’s worth it for moments like this.
“She really likes you,” says Zarmenus. “Normally it takes her ages to warm up to someone.”
“She’s probably waiting for me to drop my guard.”
Bell flips over onto her back, showing her belly. I scratch her there, which she seems to like. For a creature capable of stealing souls, she really shouldn’t be this cute.
Once my shoes are on and Bell has been petted enough, we go outside. Standing by the entrance of Clark Hall is a group of paparazzi. Their cameras start clicking.
“Same deal as last time,” says Zarmenus as he starts posing for the cameras. “Do you want to join, Owen?”
“I’m good,” I say.
Zarmenus gives them a bunch of different poses, and then we walk to the Hub in silence.
I wouldn’t describe it as comfortable. I keep thinking about the scorch mark in the carpet, and the mess he made that I have to clean up.
Bell is cute, yes, but wouldn’t my life be more peaceful if I shared a room with someone else? The answer is obviously yes.
It doesn’t take long for us to reach the Hub, where Point Pandemonium is already in full swing. Electronic music is pounding, and flashing lights are visible through the glass windows.
We go inside and show our student IDs to the bouncers standing by the doors. Zarmenus also shows an ID I’ve never seen before: a card made of shiny orange plastic. A license from Hell? The ID passes the test of the bouncer, and each of us is given a yellow wristband.
I check my phone to see if Tyrell has responded to my message asking him if he’s here already.
Yeah, we’re near the bar! See you soon!
Zarmenus and I stop by the entrance.
“My friends are at the bar,” I say.
“Mine are on the dance floor,” he says. For a moment, it’s a little awkward. I could invite him to come and hang out with my friends, but I don’t think he would say yes, so I figure there isn’t really a point. I look in the direction he pointed and see a group of gym bro–types all dancing together.
“Well, have fun,” he says.
“You too.”
We split up, and I start walking through the crowd. Like he said they would be, Tyrell and his friends are sitting at a table near the bar. Along with them is Madison and Avery, as well as a few others I recognize from the Gaymers night. A lot of them are drinking a bright blue drink.
“What is that?” I ask.
“Point Punch,” says Tyrell. “It’s good, you should try one.”
He points at a sign on the bar, which shows there are two different versions of Point Punch available: one is a true cocktail and one is a mocktail. Despite the very aggressive blue color of the drink, which at least checks out given the school’s colors, it’s apparently apple flavored.
“Want to try it?” asks Tyrell, offering me his cup. I take a sip, and it’s not bad. It tastes like lemonade. I decide right away I’m going to get one. I approach the bar and order my drink. The bartender takes one look at my wristband and makes me the non-alcoholic version.
Whoever this DJ is, they’re incredible and playing songs I really like.
I check out the dance floor, and it’s easy to spot Zarmenus and his friends, who are dancing right by the DJ.
They’ve all taken their shirts off. Zarmenus turns his head and catches me watching him.
The party slows around us as he holds the eye contact.
He winks. My heart does this weird lurch. My drink is ready, so I pay for it and go back to the group, trying to ignore the weird shock wave that just went through me. I should not, and do not, care what Zarmenus does tonight.
“So,” says Tyrell, when I make it back to the table, drink in hand. We move a little to the side so we can speak in private. “Did you decide if you’re switching rooms?”
“Not yet,” I say. “I’m giving him another chance. I know he means well.”
“It’s more than I would’ve done.” He takes a big sip of his drink. “Did you see what he posted today?” asks Tyrell.
I shake my head.
Curiosity gets the best of me, and I search for Zarmenus’s profile. And oh, wow.
He’s posted a shirtless thirst trap. Normally he keeps his shirt on in his gym selfies, but not this time.
I hate thinking it, but it’s hot.
He might be a demon, but he is still a very conventionally attractive man. He’s ripped, for one. And there’s something appealing about a guy so confident he can post a picture like this.
“Speaking of Zarmenus,” says Tyrell, “I was wondering if I could run something by you.”
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“Dean Leeke noticed my TikTok,” he says. “And asked me if I’d be willing to write some stories for Point Press about it.”
“That’s amazing!”
“Yeah, it’s a great opportunity, but I wanted to run it by you first.”
It’s nice that he did, but he didn’t have to. It probably won’t be that different from the TikToks he’s been making, and he’s my friend. If he thinks this is a great opportunity for him, then I want him to go for it.
“I don’t mind at all,” I say.
“Cool, because she wants me to interview you as well. Would you be down for that? It’ll be a puff piece, you don’t have to actually say how you feel about living with him.”
This I’m less certain about. But I can tell this is important to Tyrell. It’s like my internship, it’s an opportunity to get your foot in the door. People like Tyrell and I have to take these chances when they come our way if we’re going to have any chance of making it into our dream careers.
“Of course,” I say. “Anytime.”
“Yes!” he says, grinning big. “I’m so glad I asked you to fight me.”
I laugh. I am, too, Tyrell. I am, too. Our conversation is interrupted by Avery, although he’s in full drag, so I guess I’m speaking to Red Velvet. Her outfit is red and covered in glittering rhinestones. It perfectly matches her wig, which is a sculptural work of art.
“What are you talking about?”
“Zarmenus,” says Tyrell.
Red Velvet rolls her eyes, like it’s annoying he’s all anyone talks about. “His thirst trap, you mean? By the way the gays are reacting you’d think they’d never seen a shirtless man before.”
The song changes, switching to a song by The Killers: “Run for Cover.”
“I love this song,” says Red. “We should dance.”