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Version 1.10.0

  Version 1.10.0

  Sunday October 30th

  Kate showed up at my door at 10 AM with two pumpkin spice lattes, a bag of pastries, and an expression that could only be described as Jack Nicholson in The Shining.

  "It's costume time, beyotch."

  I stepped aside to let her in, accepting the latte she shoved into my hands. "Good morning to you too."

  "No time for pleasantries. We have work to do." She surveyed my apartment with the critical eye of a general assessing a battlefield. "Where's your fabric? Your supplies? Please tell me you didn't forget the supplies."

  "I didn't forget." I gestured toward the guest room , where I'd set up a makeshift crafting station on my bed. Fabric in various colors, scissors, thread, a sewing machine I'd panic-bought three days ago and watched approximately seventeen YouTube tutorials to learn how to use. "I've been preparing."

  Kate's eyebrows shot up as she took in the spread. "Samantha Marion. Did you actually learn to sew?"

  "I learned to... approximate sewing. There's a difference."

  "This is the most effort you've ever put into anything that wasn't work-related." She turned to look at me, eyes narrowing. "Who are you and what have you done with my workaholic hermit friend?"

  "Maybe I'm turning over a new leaf. New job, new hobbies, new me."

  “Uh-huh. New credit card too by the looks of it.” Kate didn't look convinced, but she was already pawing through the fabric options. "Okay, so. Aurora and Celeste. I've been listening to the audiobook you recommended, by the way. Allister can absolutely get it."

  "Right? The voice actor does this thing with his voice when he's being all dark and brooding…”

  "'Come with me, Aurora,'" Kate intoned in a terrible imitation of a sexy growl. "'Let me show you my kingdom.'"

  I burst out laughing. "That's awful. That's the worst thing I've ever heard."

  "You love it." She pulled out a length of deep burgundy fabric, holding it up against herself. "Okay, so Celeste. Tell me about her. I only got through the first few chapters."

  I settled onto the edge of my bed, cradling my latte. "Celeste is Aurora's best friend from before everything goes sideways. She's a light fae...golden hair, radiant smile, the kind of person who walks into a room and everyone just... gravitates toward her. But she's not shallow about it. She genuinely cares about Aurora, even when Aurora starts pulling away."

  "So she's the Glinda to Aurora's Elphaba."

  "Exactly. They're on diverging paths...Aurora's being drawn into darkness and power, and Celeste represents everything she's leaving behind. The normal life. The safe choice. But they love each other, even when they don't understand each other anymore."

  Kate was quiet for a moment, running the fabric through her fingers. "That's kind of sad."

  "It's bittersweet. They both want the other to be happy, but they can't quite reach each other anymore." I shrugged. "It's a fantasy novel. Everything's dramatic."

  "Hmm." Kate held the burgundy against her face, checking the color. "Well, I refuse to be sad on Halloween. Celeste is getting a glow-up, and we're going to look amazing, and nobody's diverging anywhere except toward the bar."

  "That's the spirit."

  * * *

  Kate had brought Chaos, citing separation anxiety. He'd claimed the top of the bookshelf immediately and spent most of the day asleep, which was standard operating procedure.

  But once, while Kate was in the bathroom and I was adjusting the drape of my dress, his eyes opened. Not the lazy slit of a cat disturbed from a nap. Open. Alert. Tracking my hands with a focus that had nothing to do with hunting instincts and everything to do with attention.

  It lasted maybe three seconds. Then he yawned, stretched, and went back to sleep.

  Weird. But cats were weird. That was basically their entire job description.

  The next three hours were a disaster. A glorious, hilarious, coffee-fueled disaster.

  "Sam. Sam, no. You cannot put the zipper there."

  "Why not? It's functional."

  "It's on the front of the bodice! You'll look like a sexy mechanic, not a fae princess."

  "Maybe Celeste is a sexy mechanic fae princess. You don't know her life."

  Kate threw a pin cushion at me. I dodged, laughing, and knocked over my cup of coffee in the process. The burgundy fabric I'd been working on caught the splash, a dark stain spreading across what was supposed to be Celeste's cape.

  "Oh no." Kate's hands flew to her mouth. "Oh no, no, no.”

  "It's fine," I said quickly, grabbing the fabric. "I can fix it."

  "How? That's dark espresso on burgundy fabric, it's going to stain permanently.”

  "Just... give me a second."

  I turned away from her slightly, letting my focus shift. The code shimmered into view, the familiar patterns overlaying the physical world. The coffee was easy to see...a disruption in the fabric's code, molecules that didn't belong. I concentrated, finding the symbols I'd learned represented color and composition, and pushed gently.

  The stain faded. Not completely...I didn't want to be too obvious...but enough that it looked like a shadow rather than a disaster.

  "See?" I held up the fabric, turning back to Kate. "Barely noticeable."

  Kate squinted at it. "How did you... did you just blot that out with your hand?"

  "Quick reflexes. Grabbed a napkin."

  "I didn't see you grab a napkin."

  "You were busy panicking. It's fine. Crisis averted." I spread the fabric back out on the bed, smoothing it with my hands, and using the opportunity to adjust the color just slightly, deepening it to a richer shade that would catch the light better. "See? Good as new."

  Kate shook her head slowly. "Sometimes I forget how weirdly competent you are."

  "It's my superpower," I said, and had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing at my own joke.

  * * *

  By mid-afternoon, we had something resembling costumes.

  Kate's Celeste outfit was coming together beautifully: a flowing golden dress that we'd found at a thrift store and were modifying beyond recognition, a cape in that deep burgundy (coffee stain now completely invisible, thanks to some subtle adjustments I'd made when Kate went to the bathroom), and a crown of wire and crystals that Kate was surprisingly good at constructing.

  My Aurora costume was... a work in progress.

  "The problem," I said, staring at the mess of dark fabric in front of me, "is that Aurora's look evolves throughout the book. Early Aurora is all earth tones and simple dresses. Late Aurora is basically wearing liquid midnight and looking like she could murder you with a glance."

  "So which Aurora are you going for?"

  "The hot one, obviously."

  Kate snorted. "They're all hot. Allister wouldn't be interested in an ugly Aurora."

  "Fair point." I held up two pieces of fabric...one a deep navy, one almost black with subtle purple undertones. "What do you think? Midnight or abyss?"

  "Abyss. Definitely abyss." Kate tilted her head, studying me. "You need something that makes your eyes pop. And your boobs. This is Halloween...cleavage is not optional."

  "I don't know if Aurora is really a cleavage kind of..."

  "She literally seduces a dark fae prince. She's absolutely a cleavage kind of girl." Kate stood up, brushing fabric scraps off her lap. "Okay, hold still. Let me see what we're working with."

  She grabbed the abyss-colored fabric and started draping it across my shoulders, pinning and adjusting as she went. I stood there like a mannequin, trying not to move while she worked.

  "The problem," Kate muttered around a mouthful of pins, "is that you have no sense of your own body. You always hide in boxy clothes."

  "I like boxy clothes. They're comfortable."

  "They're camouflage. You're hiding." She tugged the fabric tighter across my chest, and I felt suddenly very exposed. "See? You've got great curves. You just never show them off."

  "Maybe I don't want to show them off."

  "Maybe you're scared."

  I didn't have a response to that. Kate's eyes met mine in the mirror she'd propped up against the wall, and for a moment, her expression softened.

  "Sorry. That was... I didn't mean to push."

  "It's fine."

  "It's just,” She sighed, stepping back to survey her work. "You've been different lately. Since Holloway. More confident, in some ways, but also more... closed off? I can't explain it. It's like you're becoming someone new, and I'm trying to keep up, but I don't always know where I stand anymore."

  The words hit harder than they should have. I thought about the code shimmering just beneath my vision, the powers I was hiding, the evidence against Greg sitting on a burner drive in my desk drawer. All the things I wasn't telling her.

  "I'm still me," I said quietly. "I'm just... figuring some things out."

  "I know. I know." Kate squeezed my shoulder. "And I'm here for it, whatever it is. Just... don't disappear on me, okay? I already lost one friend to personal drama. I can't lose you too."

  She was talking about Jessica, I realized. The name on Greg's spreadsheet. The friend who'd vanished without explanation.

  "You won't lose me," I said, and I meant it. I really, truly meant it.

  Kate smiled, and the moment passed. "Good. Now hold still, I need to figure out how to make you look like you could destroy a man with a single glance."

  * * *

  I practiced on the fabric while Kate wasn't looking. Little things at first. Smoothing out a wrinkle that wouldn't lay flat. Deepening the color where it had faded. Strengthening a seam that felt weak.

  Then bigger things The dress Kate had draped on me was shapeless, more fabric than fashion. But as I focused on it, I could see the code beneath...the threads, the weave, the structure of the garment itself. I'd destroyed that package of undershirts at the closeout store, but that was because I'd pushed too hard, too fast. This time, I went slowly. Carefully.

  I adjusted the drape so it fell more elegantly. I nipped in the waist, just slightly, so it would hug my curves instead of obscuring them. I lengthened the hem so it would pool dramatically on the floor. Each change was small, imperceptible in isolation, but together they transformed the shapeless mass into something that actually looked like it belonged on a dark fae princess.

  "Sam." Kate's voice startled me. "Did you... did you just do something to that dress?"

  I froze. "What do you mean?"

  "It looks different. Better." She was staring at the fabric with a confused expression. "Did you pin something while I wasn't looking?"

  "Must have been how the light hit it." I turned slightly, letting the fabric catch the afternoon sun streaming through the window. "See? It's all about the angles."

  Kate didn't look convinced, but she also didn't push. "Okay, well, whatever you did, keep doing it. That's starting to look actually amazing."

  Permission granted.

  Over the next hour, I worked on both costumes...mine and Kate's...while she focused on accessories and makeup planning. Every time she looked away, I made small adjustments. The golden fabric of her dress became more luminous, as if it was generating its own light. The crystals on her crown caught and refracted the light in ways that shouldn't have been physically possible. My own dress developed subtle patterns in the weave, swirls of darker purple that seemed to move when you weren't looking directly at them.

  By the time we finished, we didn't look like two women playing dress-up. We looked like we'd stepped out of the pages of a fantasy novel.

  "Holy shit," Kate breathed, staring at herself in the mirror. "Sam. How did we do this?"

  "Natural talent," I said, admiring my own reflection. The dress fit perfectly now, hugging my body in all the right places before flaring out into a dramatic skirt. The neckline was lower than anything I'd normally wear, but Kate was right, it made my eyes pop. And other things. "Also, a lot of coffee and wine."

  This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  "We're going to destroy that karaoke bar."

  "That's the plan."

  * * *

  Monday October 31st

  The karaoke bar was called "Sing Your Heart Out," which was exactly the kind of cheesy name that made me want to turn around and go home. But Kate had a grip on my arm like a vice, and she was not letting go.

  "It's going to be fun," she insisted, dragging me toward the entrance. "It's Halloween. Everyone's going to be drunk and in costumes and nobody's going to care if you sing badly."

  “This isn’t our usual place Kate. I don't sing badly. I don't sing at all in front of strangers. There's a difference."

  "Not tonight, there isn't." She flashed our IDs at the bouncer, who was dressed as a very tired-looking vampire, and pulled me inside.

  The bar was packed. Halloween on a Monday meant everyone was desperate to celebrate, work week be damned. The room was a sea of costumes...sexy cats, sexy nurses, sexy things that shouldn't be sexy but somehow were. A man in a full banana suit was doing shots at the bar. A group of women dressed as the Spice Girls were taking over the stage, belting out "Wannabe" with more enthusiasm than skill.

  And in the corner, looking like we’d wandered in from a completely different reality, were Kate and I.

  I caught our reflection in the mirrored wall behind the bar, and for a moment, I didn't recognize myself. The Aurora costume had turned out better than I'd dared hope...the dark fabric seemed to absorb the light around it, making me look like a shadow given form. My makeup was dramatic, dark eyes and blood-red lips, and Kate had done something to my hair that made it look like it was floating slightly, defying gravity.

  Next to me, Kate was radiant in gold. Her Celeste costume practically glowed, the crystals in her crown catching every light in the room and scattering rainbows. She looked like a beam of sunlight that had decided to go clubbing.

  We looked, in a word, incredible.

  "Drinks first," Kate declared, steering us toward the bar. "Then karaoke. Then we find you a man."

  “Kate…”

  "Don't 'Kate' me. You promised. Bar date, remember? The roses?"

  "I was joking about the roses."

  "And I wasn't joking about finding you someone to talk to. Or me for that matter! If you see one I’ll like send him my way.” She caught the bartender's attention with a wave that seemed to manipulate the very fabric of reality...or maybe she just had really good cleavage in that dress. "Two shots of tequila and two vodka cranberries, please."

  "We're doing shots already?"

  "It's Halloween. Shots are mandatory." The bartender slid our drinks over, and Kate pressed a shot glass into my hand. "To us. To surviving Holloway. And to looking so good that everyone in this bar is going to be wondering who the hell we are."

  "I'll drink to that."

  We clinked glasses and threw back the tequila. It burned going down, but in a good way, warm and sharp and clarifying. I felt some of the tension in my shoulders start to release.

  "Okay," Kate said, grabbing her vodka cranberry and scanning the crowd. "Let's find our spot."

  We wove through the crowd, attracting stares and whispers as we went. A guy dressed as a werewolf actually walked into a pillar because he was too busy looking at Kate. A woman in a witch costume complimented my dress and asked where I'd bought it. "I made it," I said, which was technically true, and she looked so impressed that I felt a little guilty for cheating with supernatural powers.

  We found a table near the back with a good view of the stage and the bar. Kate settled into her seat like a queen surveying her kingdom, vodka cranberry in hand, crown sparkling.

  "This is perfect," she announced. "We can see everything from here."

  "You mean you can scout potential victims."

  "I prefer 'romantic opportunities.'" She took a sip of her drink, eyes already roaming the crowd. "Okay, let's assess. Banana suit guy is out, too drunk. Werewolf has potential but he's definitely here with that cat girl, look at how he keeps glancing at her. The Viking over there is hot but he's got a wedding ring. Oh, oh wait."

  Her voice dropped, and she grabbed my arm so hard I almost spilled my drink.

  "Sam. Sam. Don't look now, but there's a guy at the bar who just walked in and he is…”

  "You literally just told me not to look."

  "I know, but you have to look. Just... subtly. Casually. Like you're scanning the room and you just happen to notice him."

  I rolled my eyes but did as she asked, letting my gaze drift casually toward the bar. Past the banana suit, past a group of zombies doing Jager bombs, past a woman dressed as a very convincing Maleficent…

  Oh.

  Oh no.

  He was standing at the bar, waiting for a drink, and he was dressed as the Dread Pirate Roberts. Black shirt open at the collar, black mask pushed up on his forehead, a prop sword at his hip. It was nerdy in that "I've seen The Princess Bride forty times" way...the kind of costume that said I'm comfortable enough in my masculinity to dress as a romantic hero from a 1987 film. Dark hair, slightly messy like he'd been running his hands through it. Strong jaw. Shoulders that suggested he knew his way around a gym. The costume should have been ridiculous. Instead, it just made him more attractive.

  "Holy shit," I breathed.

  "Right?" Kate was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. "He's perfect. And he's not wearing a wedding ring, and he came in alone, and he keeps looking around like he's searching for someone but hasn't found them yet."

  As if on cue, he turned slightly, and I got a better look at his face. Strong features, warm brown eyes behind fashionable glasses, the kind of face that looked like it smiled a lot. There was something about him, something I couldn't quite place, but before I could stop gaping, his gaze swept across the room and landed on our table.

  On me.

  I looked away quickly, heat rushing to my cheeks. "Kate. Kate, he saw me looking."

  "Good. That's the point."

  "That's not… I wasn't trying to…”

  "Sam." Kate reached across the table and grabbed my hand. "You're dressed as a literal dark fae princess. You look incredible. And a hot guy just noticed you. This is not a problem. This is an opportunity."

  I risked another glance toward the bar. He was still there, accepting a beer from the bartender, but his eyes kept drifting back in our direction. When he caught me looking again, the corner of his mouth quirked up in a small smile.

  I looked away so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash.

  "He's smiling at you," Kate hissed. "He's smiling! Go talk to him!"

  "Absolutely not."

  “Sam…”

  "Kate, I am not walking up to a random hot stranger in a bar and just... starting a conversation. That's not how I operate. That's not how anyone operates."

  "That's literally how everyone operates! That's what bars are for!"

  "I thought bars were for drinking."

  "They're for drinking and flirting. Multitasking." Kate sat back in her chair, eyes narrowing in a way that I'd learned to fear. "Fine. If you won't go to him, I will."

  "Don't you dare."

  "Just watch me."

  She started to stand up, and I grabbed her arm, pulling her back down. "Kate. I will murder you. I will use my bare hands and it will be messy and painful and no one will ever find the body."

  "Empty threats." But she was laughing, settling back into her seat. "Fine, fine. I won't ambush the poor man. But I am going to get you up on that stage, and you are going to sing something, and maybe he'll be so impressed by your raw musical talent that he'll come talk to you himself."

  "I don't have raw musical talent."

  "Everyone has raw musical talent. Some people just haven't found it yet."

  I groaned and took a long drink of my vodka cranberry. This was going to be a long night.

  * * *

  Two more drinks in, and I was feeling considerably less anxious.

  The karaoke had been going strong for the past hour, a parade of drunk Halloween revelers murdering classic songs with varying degrees of enthusiasm. A guy dressed as Elvis had done a surprisingly decent “Hound Dog." A group of nurses had turned "I Will Survive" into something approaching a religious experience. The banana suit had attempted "Bohemian Rhapsody" and had to be gently escorted off stage after the third verse.

  Through it all, I kept sneaking glances at the guy at the bar.

  He was still there, nursing what appeared to be his second beer, chatting occasionally with the bartender or the people around him. He had an easy way of talking to people… open, friendly, like everyone was already his friend and they just hadn't realized it yet. Every now and then, he'd look our way, and I'd quickly pretend to be fascinated by whatever was happening on stage.

  "You're not subtle," Kate informed me during a lull between performances. "You know that, right?"

  "I don't know what you're talking about."

  "You've looked at him approximately forty-seven times in the last hour."

  "I have not."

  "I've been counting." She grinned and nudged my shoulder. "It's cute. You're smitten."

  "I'm not smitten. I don't even know his name."

  "So go find out."

  “Kate…”

  "Or..." Her grin turned wicked. "I could find out for you."

  Before I could stop her, she was out of her seat and heading for the stage. I watched in horror as she whispered something to the DJ running the karaoke machine, who laughed and nodded. Then she grabbed the microphone.

  "Good evening, everyone! Happy Halloween!"

  The crowd cheered. Kate was a natural performer, she’d done theater in college, and it showed. She stood in the spotlight like she was born there, golden costume glowing, crown sparkling.

  "I want to dedicate this next song to my best friend, Sam." She pointed directly at me, and I felt my face catch fire as dozens of heads turned in my direction. "Sam is a dark fae princess tonight, and she's been making eyes at a certain handsome stranger all evening but is too chicken to actually talk to him. So Sam, this one's for you. And for any of you Dread Pirates out there, she thinks you're cute."

  I was going to kill her. I was going to use my newfound reality-manipulation powers to erase her from existence. I was going to…

  The opening notes of "I Put a Spell on You" started playing, and Kate began to sing.

  She was good. Annoyingly good. Her voice was rich and playful, and she worked the stage like a professional, pointing at me during certain lyrics, making exaggerated eyes at the general direction of the bar. The crowd was eating it up, laughing and cheering and filming on their phones.

  I wanted to sink into the floor and disappear.

  But I also couldn't help laughing. Because this was so Kate, over the top, embarrassing, utterly shameless. This was why she was my best friend. This was why, despite everything, I couldn't imagine my life without her.

  When the song ended, Kate took a theatrical bow, blew me a kiss, and then pointed at me again.

  "And now, ladies and gentlemen, Sam is going to come up here and sing one for her mystery man. Give her a round of applause!"

  The crowd cheered. The DJ started queuing up a song. And Kate was staring at me with an expression that clearly said "if you don't get up here, I will drag you."

  I drained the rest of my vodka cranberry and stood up. If I was going to die of embarrassment, I might as well die on my feet.

  * * *

  The stage lights were blinding.

  I stood in front of the microphone, clutching it like a lifeline, and tried not to look at the sea of faces staring up at me. Or at the bar. Definitely not at the bar, where a certain someone was undoubtedly watching and wondering what kind of lunatic I was.

  "So," I said into the mic, and my voice came out embarrassingly shaky. "Apparently I'm doing this now. Thanks, Kate."

  Laughter from the crowd. Kate whooped from our table.

  The DJ gave me a thumbs up. "Ready when you are!"

  I had no idea what song she'd picked. I hadn't had time to request anything. I was just going to have to…

  The opening notes started, and I recognized it immediately.

  “Tearing Up My Heart"

  Of course. Of course Kate would pick the most dramatic, cheesy, boy crazy song from our respective youths that she could. She knew I knew this song...we'd drunkenly performed it together at least a dozen times over the years, usually in my apartment, usually with wine, definitely never in front of an actual audience.

  The lyrics started scrolling on the screen in front of me. I took a breath.

  And I sang.

  Look, I'm not a good singer. I know this about myself. My voice is okay. Passable, even, in the shower or the car or the privacy of my own apartment. But "okay" and "karaoke bar on Halloween" are two very different contexts.

  But something strange happened as I stood there under those lights. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the costume making me feel like someone else, someone braver. Maybe it was the fact that I'd spent the last few weeks manipulating the code of reality and this seemed like a very small thing by comparison.

  I stopped caring.

  I threw myself into the song like my life depended on it. I belted out the “Let it go.” with everything I had. I gestured dramatically, sweeping my arm toward the audience, toward the bar, toward the general direction of romance and possibility. My voice cracked on the high notes and I didn't care. I was performing, really performing, for maybe the first time in my life.

  The crowd started cheering. Not polite, obligatory cheering, actual, genuine enthusiasm. People were singing along, holding up their phones, swaying back and forth. A group of witches in the front row started a "Sam! Sam! Sam!" chant that spread through the audience.

  And at some point, I don't know exactly when, I looked toward the bar. He was watching me.

  Not just glancing over, not just casually observing. Watching. With an expression that was somewhere between amused and impressed and something else I couldn't quite identify. When he caught me looking, he raised his beer in a small salute.

  I nearly forgot the next line.

  The song built to its crescendo, that final explosion of emotion and all the boy band glory I could muster. The last note rang out, I struck what I hoped was a dramatic pose, and the crowd erupted.

  I walked off that stage feeling like I'd just conquered a small country.

  "SAMANTHA MARION!" Kate tackled me the moment I reached our table, throwing her arms around me. "That was INCREDIBLE! Where have you been hiding that?! Karaoke for like 7 years and you’ve never been that animated!”

  "I have no idea what just happened," I said honestly. "I think I blacked out somewhere around the second chorus."

  "You were a star! A literal star!" She pulled back, eyes shining. "And he was watching the whole time. The whole time, Sam. He couldn't take his eyes off you."

  I glanced toward the bar. He was still there, talking to someone now, but as if he felt my gaze, he looked up. Our eyes met across the crowded room.

  He smiled.

  I smiled back.

  And then I very deliberately turned away because my heart was doing something concerning and I needed to not be looking at him in order to form coherent thoughts.

  "You should go talk to him," Kate said.

  “Kate, tonight. Tonight I’m here with you..”

  “Sam…”

  "Kate. I just publicly humiliated myself in front of an entire bar. I've reached my courage quota for the evening. If he wants to talk to me, he can come over here."

  Kate opened her mouth to argue, then closed it, looking thoughtful. "You know what? Fair enough. You've earned a break. Drink now, romance later."

  "Thank you."

  "But the night is young, and I'm not giving up."

  "I would expect nothing less."

  Kate was quiet for a moment, swirling her drink. Then she said, "You're not actually scared of him, you know."

  "Excuse me?"

  "The guy. You're not scared of talking to him. You're scared of wanting something new. You've been so focused on getting your old life back that you forgot you're allowed to want a different one." She paused, pressing two fingers to her temple for a moment. "Sorry. That was weirdly specific. Blame the tequila."

  I didn't say anything, because she was right. Not in the general ballpark way that best friends are usually right. She'd nailed the exact shape of it.

  "When did you get so perceptive?" I asked, keeping my voice light.

  "I've always been perceptive." But she looked slightly surprised at herself. "Must be the tequila. Makes me wise."

  "Tequila makes you loud. Wine makes you wise."

  "Then get me more wine." She grinned, and the moment passed.

  * * *

  He didn't come over.

  I tried not to be disappointed about that. It was a crowded bar on Halloween, and just because someone smiled at you across a room didn't mean they were interested, and maybe he was here with friends, or meeting someone, or just being polite.

  But every now and then, I'd look over and catch him looking at me, and he'd smile, and I'd smile, and then we'd both look away like teenagers at a school dance.

  "This is painful," Kate announced around midnight. "You two are circling each other like awkward satellites. One of you needs to make a move."

  "Maybe the move is no move. Maybe this is just... a nice moment. Two strangers smiling at each other on Halloween. Nothing has to happen."

  "That's the saddest thing I've ever heard."

  "It's realistic."

  "It's tragic." Kate sighed dramatically. "Fine. If he hasn't made a move by last call, I'm intervening."

  "Please don't."

  "No promises."

  But last call came and went, and he didn't approach. I watched him settle his tab, and head toward the door with the easy confidence of someone who knew exactly where he was going and how to get there.

  At the door, he paused. Looked back. Found me in the crowd. One more smile. A small wave, just a lift of his hand, barely anything. Then he was gone.

  "Well," Kate said, sounding thoroughly disappointed. "That was anticlimactic."

  But I was smiling. "I don't know. I kind of liked it."

  "Liked what? Nothing happened."

  "Something happened." I couldn't explain it, exactly. The whole evening, the smiles, the glances, that moment during the song when our eyes met; it felt like the beginning of something. Not the beginning of a relationship, necessarily, but the beginning of a story. A thread that had been picked up and might, someday, be woven into something more.

  "You're such a romantic," Kate said, but she was smiling too. "Come on, dark fae princess. Let's get you home."

  * * *

  We stumbled out of the bar and into the cool October night, arms linked, crowns askew, feeling like queens of the entire city.

  "This was the best Halloween ever," Kate declared.

  "It really was."

  "I can't believe you sang ‘Tearin’ Up My Heart' to a stranger."

  "I can't believe you made me sing 'Tearin’ Up My Heart' to a stranger."

  "You're welcome." She squeezed my arm. "Seriously, Sam. Tonight was... it was really good. It felt like old times. Before everything went crazy."

  I looked at her...my best friend, glowing in gold, tipsy and happy and here. Still here, despite everything I'd put her through. Still choosing me, even when I made it difficult.

  "I love you, Kate. "

  The words came out before I could stop them. Kate blinked, surprised.

  "I just mean, you know, you’re my best friend. And I don't say it enough. But I do. Love you."

  Kate's face softened. She pulled me into a hug, right there on the sidewalk, holding on tight.

  "I love you too, you weirdo. Even when you're being mysterious and making me worry about you."

  "I'm not being mysterious."

  "You're definitely being mysterious. But it's fine. I'm here for mysterious Sam. I'm here for all the Sams." She pulled back, grinning. "Now let's get you home before you turn into a pumpkin."

  We walked toward the subway, arm in arm, laughing about nothing. The costumes that had seemed so magical inside the bar now just seemed silly, trailing fabric catching on the sidewalk, crystals falling out of Kate's crown. But I didn't care. For the first time in weeks, I felt light. Free.

  Like everything was going to be okay.

  “This Friday," Kate said as we reached her station. "You, me, that bar we talked about. We're finding proper dates this time, no mysterious strangers who disappear into the night."

  "Who knows?" I said. "Maybe he'll be there."

  "Wouldn't that be something." She hugged me one more time, quick and fierce. "Happy Halloween, Sam."

  "Happy Halloween, Kate."

  I watched her disappear down the subway stairs, golden glow fading into the underground. Then I turned and walked the rest of the way home, still smiling, still humming “Tearin’ Up My Heart" under my breath.

  Best Halloween ever.

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  Want to read ahead? My has the rest of book one and a bonus prequel chapter. Patience is overrated anyway.

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