Chapter 20
Chapter
Twenty
HER
I slam the drawer shut in a fit of anger.
The lonely contents inside rattle and shake. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to calm down. Slowly counting to ten, my breathing returns to normal and the anger fades. The last thing I need is to waste my time ruminating over the other night at the video store.
That asshole fucked me and denied my release. And to top it all off, he took all my toys. All I have left is a butt plug, a bottle of lube, and my fingers. It’s like he knows I have trouble getting off without something inside of me. Fucking prick . Rage creeps back up within me. But it’s not worth getting all worked up over; I have better things to do right now.
Namely, preparing for the fall festival tonight.
I tune the radio to the classic rock station and start getting ready. I refuse to let Damon ruin my night. A catchy song plays as I throw open the closet and search through the hangers until I find the pieces of my costume. I start to dress, slipping on the snug black skirt. After putting on the tie-front shirt and pairing it with my best push-up bra, it’s time to apply make-up and style my hair.
I’ve mastered the beehive hairstyle and can finish it in no time. I complement the look with large hoop earrings, crimson lipstick, and knee-high boots. The lace choker draws attention to my neckline. The only thing missing is the straight razor prop with fake blood, which is in my purse.
Surveying myself in the full-length mirror, I smile. I’m going to have a great time tonight, regardless of what happened earlier. I grab my purse and swing it over my shoulder, just as there’s a knock at the door. When I answer it, I come face to face with Jen, looking gorgeous in her gothic witch costume.
“Wow!” she remarks. “You look fantastic!”
“Thanks!” I say, grinning at the compliment. “You’re looking pretty stunning yourself.”
“Thank you.” Her crystal necklace glints against her chest; I’m glad she’s displaying her talent more proudly now. “Are you ready? Nick’s waiting for us. Wait ‘til you see his costume!”
Brow raised, I lock the door behind me and link arms with Jen. We descend the stairs and exit the building. Nick is sitting in his car with shocking blond hair, wearing a black jacket that shows off his athletic physique .
“Ready to go?” he asks, sticking his head out the window. “You look amazing, Mia.”
I hop in the backseat while Jen slides into the passenger side. “Looking sharp there, Campbell. What are you supposed to be?”
He smiles at me in the rearview mirror. “Billy Idol,” he replies, running a hand through his spiked hair. “I think I pulled it off, don’t you?”
“Oh, yeah. I see it now,” I say, remembering the album covers back at the music shop I used to work at.
After we strap in, Nick switches on the radio and puts the car in gear. The engine revs, and we’re off to the festival. As we speed away, we sing along to a bunch of 80s hits. Soon, I’m lost in the energy of it all and don’t notice when we pull into our destination, even though it’s a county away. Excitement bubbles up inside of me. This is going to be a night to remember!
People mill about, dressed in all sorts of costumes: zombies, superheroes, clowns, and more. Colorful lights illuminate the grounds. I can barely contain my laughter as I weave through the crowd, Jen and Nick in tow. We pay admission, get our stamps, and enter the festival officially.
Music blasts at full volume from the stage, where a local band plays. Nick takes Jen’s hand, and we wander through the festival grounds, taking it all in. There are food stands, carnival games, and even a petting zoo. I’m overwhelmed by the sheer size of it all. I keep an eye open for Blake, but he’s nowhere to be seen .
“Hey, why don’t we grab some food and then check out the costume contest?” Nick suggests.
“Sounds good,” I say, distracted.
“Do you think they’re still accepting people?” Jen asks as we head over to one of the food tents, to which Nick shrugs. “You should enter, Mia.”
I shake my head emphatically; the thought of standing up there and being judged by all those people makes me want to shudder. “No way.”
“Come on,” Jen insists. “You have a great costume!”
I bite my lip and look around the festival one more time—and feel a hand on my shoulder. I spin around, nearly sending the plate of food in his other hand flying as a man in a white ghost mask stares at me.
“Did I hear someone mention a costume contest?” Blake asks, pulling his mask off to the side of his head.
Nick grins. “We’re trying to convince Mia to join. If there’s still some spots open.”
“Well, it’s your lucky day,” Blake says, giving me a gentle, playful nudge as my heart races. “I was just talking to the people organizing the costume contest. They’re accepting last-minute entrants. I can show you where to sign up.”
Nick and Jen both look at me expectantly, and I suddenly find myself actually considering it. “Fine,” I relent, lifting my pointer finger for emphasis. “But only on one condition.”
“And what’s that?” Blake asks.
I look back and forth between them, unable to contain my smirk. “One of you has to enter alongside me.”
Jen and Nick groan in unison, but Blake’s eyes light up. “You have yourself a deal, Mia. One of those two will have to volunteer.”
“Yo, what the hell?” Nick protests. “What about you? How about you enter?”
Blake grins. “I’m technically working tonight. I have to write an article for the paper.”
“Oh, yeah. That’s right. You’re a journalist or whatever.” Nick turns to Jen. “You look cute. Why don’t you enter?”
Jen’s face flushes, and she winces, as if burned. “No way. I’m way too embarrassed. You do it,” she says, elbowing Nick in the arm.
He heaves a theatrical sigh. “Alright. Fine. I’ll do it.”
Blake motions for us to follow. “Let’s go get you two registered.”
“I’ll go get some food and wait for you guys,” Jen states, waving at us before heading into the nearby tent.
Nick stares at her longingly, though he finally tears his gaze away when he notices us leave. It’s interesting how close the two of them have become recently. I wonder if something bad happened between Nick and Zoey. But it’s probably not my business. I’ll likely hear about it at work soon, so I don’t feel the need to pry.
We go over to the contest area where a woman sits behind a table. Blake approaches her, getting her attention as if they’re already acquainted. “Hey, Charlotte,” he says, gesturing to us. “These two are here for the contest.”
She looks up and smiles warmly. “Glad you decided to join us! Here are your forms,” she says, giving them to Blake, who hands one to each of us. “Fill them out and submit them when you’re ready. Good luck!”
Nick and I go to the table and use the provided pens to jot down our answers. Once we submit the forms, Nick heads towards the food tent to find Jen. I linger, observing Blake as he munches on a churro. I find myself fixated on the mask, which features a screaming, sheet-white face that appears to be in agony. Creepy .
“What are you thinking about?” he asks, wiping his hand on the napkin he pulls out of his pocket.
Definitely not that your mask is unnerving . “Not much, really. I’m kinda hungry, though.”
He offers me a churro, but I wave my hand in refusal. “You look gorgeous, by the way,” he comments, stepping closer. “Gorgeously murderous, at that. I think the two of us make an impressive pair.” He unsheathes his rubber knife spattered in fake blood.
“Thanks,” I say shyly as I try not to make it obvious that I’ve taken an interest in that mask. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” He wears all-black, with a few silver accents that shine in the light of the full moon. Part of me wants to tell him that he looks good in black, that he should wear it more often. But I hesitate.
He smiles, sheathing the knife. “Come on,” he says, offering me his hand. “Let’s go find Nick and Jen and grab you some food.”
Taking his hand in mine, we make our way back to the food tent. We spot them outside, each with plates of nachos, sitting at one of the picnic tables. I share a knowing look with Blake before turning my attention back to the other two.
“I’m gonna go get some food,” I say, enjoying the feeling of Blake’s hand. “Do you have time to hang out?”
He appears briefly in thought, before replying, “I need to get back to work soon, but sure. I can carve out some time to hang.”
We part in different directions, with him heading to the picnic table while I enter the tent. The smell of hamburgers and fried foods hits me like a wave. I load up my plate with sweet potato fries, a handful of elephant ear pastries, and a glass of apple cider before making my way to the table with the others.
Settling into my seat beside Blake, I watch as he holds court, regaling us with stories about his job and funny anecdotes from interviews. Dipping my pastry in maple syrup and taking a bite, I listen as he enchants the table. I can’t help but marvel at how seamlessly Blake fits into my life, as if he has always been a part of it.
“Hey there, Killer,” an unfamiliar voice interrupts.
Standing by the table is a man with fake red facial hair, wearing a straw hat and a cardigan.
“What do you want, Van Gogh?” Blake asks, his banter lighthearted.
‘Van Gogh’ pretends to smoke an old fake pipe. “You’re wanted over at the hayride. Cleopatra’s all set up and ready to shoot. ”
Blake gives us an apologetic look. “That’s my coworker. Looks like I’m going to have to disappear for a while.”
“It was nice chatting with you!” Nick says.
I deflate. I had been enjoying the time with Blake, and now he’s leaving. It feels like we haven’t been spending enough time together. He helps me get my mind off … Damon . I take a sip of my cider and compartmentalize the past month’s events. “Catch up soon?”
Blake quirks his mouth in a half-smile. “I promise we’ll make up for lost time.” He looks at Nick. “It was nice getting to know you better. We should grab lunch or something one of these days. Jen, you’re invited to come, too.”
“Sounds great,” she agrees.
He gives us a brief salute and heads off with Van Gogh. My shoulders slump as I eat my fries. Jen takes notice, her forehead wrinkled in concern.
“I know,” she says, her eyes sparkling. “We should go do something fun until the costume contest. Any ideas?”
Nick looks around. “I know! I heard they have a corn maze here. How about that?”
“I’m not in the mood to get lost,” I say.
Jen taps her chin thoughtfully. “Maybe take a ride on the Ferris wheel?”
“Let’s do it!” Nick says, pumping his fist in the air.
I laugh at his enthusiasm and eat whatever else I can before ditching the remnants of my dinner in a trash can. Bellies full, we head for the Ferris wheel, joining the queue. Soon, we’re ushered into a gondola. As the wheel ascends, a symphony of laughter and cheers echoes up from the chaotic fairgrounds.
A pang of loneliness hits as Jen and Nick cuddle across from me. But when the wheel grinds to a halt at the top, my heart stops as I take in the breathtaking vista. Sprawled beneath us, miles unfurl like a miniature universe. It’s as if we’re suspended in our own bubble, gazing down on a tiny, twinkling world far below.
Up here, I feel a sense of peacefulness.
Gazing up at the night sky, I see stars twinkling like diamond chips scattered across an infinite blanket of darkness. I can’t help but feel that everything will be alright if I can stay here forever. But the Ferris wheel moves once more, gradually starting its descent.
Eventually, we reach the bottom again, with Nick and Jen holding hands as we exit the gondola.
“This was a great idea,” I say, my smile genuine.
Jen cocks her head, feigning sheepishness. “You looked like you needed something to lift your spirits. The Ferris wheel always puts me in a good mood, so I figured …”
“I really appreciate it,” I say honestly.
Nick glimpses his watch. “Shit. I think they’re getting ready for the contest,” he says, pointing across the grounds. “We gotta go.” He pulls away from Jen and pecks her cheek, causing her to blush. “You gonna be in the crowd cheering us on?”
She beams, her hands on her hips. “Of course!”
The two of them quickly make their way towards the stage, with me trailing behind. As I watch the pair race off together, I can’t help but smile—and feel a bit of envy, too. I wish Blake were here with me. But honestly, I can’t be too envious. Nick and Jen make a cute couple. It warms my heart to see them together.
Once the two of them part ways, Nick and I go check in with the organizers. We’re both given an entry number. I pin mine—thirty-five—on my shirt and head backstage. Nick is already there, stretching and pacing. As I look around, I can’t help but feel a bit intimidated by the creativity of the competition.
Nick notices my pinched expression and comes over. “Don’t worry. We got this!” he says, slapping me on the back. “And Jen will be cheering us on, too.”
I straighten my back and stand taller, loosening my shoulders. “You’re right. We’ll show them a thing or two,” I say, more confidently than I feel.
After some delay, the competition finally begins. The announcer outlines the rules, lists the categories, and introduces the judges, who will consider both the crowd’s vote through a ballot box and the scores they themselves will determine.
Forever seems to pass when my number is finally called. Nick gives me a fist bump for good luck before I step out onto the stage. The crowd cheers and catcalls. I try not to look awkward under their scrutiny, the brightness of the spotlight rendering me half-blind.
“Here’s number thirty-five. Straight from the sixties, a glamorous, murderous femme fatale with a penchant for close shaves!”
Posing with one hand on my hip and the fake straight razor in the other, I display my costume to everyone. As I prepare to leave the stage, I squint and search the crowd for any sign of Blake or Jen, but it’s difficult to see anything clearly. A woman dressed as Cleopatra snaps photos of us eagerly.
Carefully descending the stairs to avoid tripping, I join the other contestants gathered at the bottom. Nick’s number is called by the announcer, and he confidently steps onto the stage, taking a bow as the audience erupts into thunderous applause.
Then I see a figure in the shadows, just at the edge of my vision. I move around the other contestants to get a closer look. The figure is gone—but something rests on the ground in their place. I pick up the necklace, the crystals on it smeared with blood. Ice fills my veins.
Oh my God .
Damon is just twenty feet away. I stifle a gasp, clutching the necklace as he waves at me. My heart beats wildly as I take a step towards him. But before I can reach him, he vanishes into the crowd. Panic surges through me as I take off in his direction, my blood pounding in my ears as I shove my way through the crowd.
But he’s nowhere to be found.
Something catches my eye—it’s Damon, heading into the corn maze. I rush after him, taking winding turns, going deeper and deeper into the darkness.