It was a dark and clear night, as many nights are in the District. Not many clouds in the sky didn’t translate to being able to see stars, though. Light pollution is terrible for that. But, then again, Phillip had lived in the area his whole life. He was well used to the stars being invisible if you didn’t know where to look, and what high powered telescopes to use. Astronomy, though, wasn’t Phillip’s strong suit. There were some stars it was helpful to know where they were at most times, but for the most part, Phillip cared little for the celestial. He preferred his life on the hard ground. His life was brilliant fun, and he didn’t want a care in the world.
This night was his weekly attempt at getting shitfaced. He only did this once a week because, when he did get drunk, weird stuff started to happen. Because of that, he didn’t go out often and, whenever he did, he made sure that no one was watching. He needed to stay below the radar, even if only to make sure he wasn’t probed by the government, or worse. But, for one night a week, he let himself let loose. He walked up to a nightclub, which was holding some big wrap party for some odd TV show. He didn’t particularly care, but what did matter was the fact that the booze would be free for the event. Ignoring the long line of people anxiously waiting for the slightest chance of getting in, Phillip walked right up to the bouncer.
“What’s your name, kid?” the bouncer asked.
Phillip smiled at the man. “Phillip Jones. I’m on the list.” His eyes warped ever so slightly, the barest hint of golden spirals peering through the piercing blue.
The bouncer shook his head at that and looked at the list. There, near the end, was in fact the name Phillip Jones. The bouncer nodded. “Alright, you can head in. Don’t get in trouble.”
Phillip smiled. “Oh, don’t worry. By the end of the night, you won’t even remember I was ever here.” His eyes wavered, a brownish star appearing under the veneer of blue.
“That’s what I like to hear,” the bouncer replied with a smile of his own. Phillip walked right past him. The bouncer wouldn’t remember him come tomorrow. The necessary precautions when living incognito is that, the more questions people know they had, the less safe his life would end up being. He’d already had to leave Boston, and New York, and Philly, and even Baltimore. He wanted to at least stay here for a few years before having to move on. There were so many powerful people, so many great apartments, so many great nightclubs and bars, and so many secret societies to look into. But that wasn’t for tonight. Tonight, he was just going to party hard, drink too much, and hopefully not blow up any nearby buildings.
He went straight to the bar, as he did on all of his drinking days. Leaning on the bar, one of the minor actors from the show leaned onto the bar next to him, also awaiting the bartender to stop flirting with the famous people. She leaned over to me. “Hey, I don’t think I’ve ever met you before.”
Phillip grinned at that. There were many positions which none of the talent interacts with. It would be easier if he knew the show, but he didn’t. He didn’t actually own a TV, streaming services worked great. Especially when you didn’t have to worry about people spoiling it to you. “I’m in the visual department. Three-Dee models, if you’d believe it.”
The actress laughed. “No way,” she said, “You should totally audition, you’ve got a great look for a charismatic villain.”
“I much prefer to play the villain in real life. I’ll let you professionals deal with the whole acting thing.” That and he was never quite sure how being that public would go over.
“Nope, I’m bringing you to my actor buddies. You don’t get to just walk away with cheekbones like that,” she said, stubbornly, “I mean, once we get our actual drinks.”
Phillip laughed. “I’m not sure…” he began.
She cut him off. “You’re not getting a choice in the matter.”
Phillip shook his head. He could make her forget, but why bother. It wasn’t as though he had anything better to do and being with a bunch of the recurring B-listers would give him some more credibility. “Fine,” he responded, “But only because you’re forcing me.”
She smiled as the bartender walked over. Both of them turned to face him. He, obviously not particularly enthusiastic, asked slowly, “What do you guys want?”
“I’ll have a tray with seven, wait, eight shots of Jäger.”
Phillip sighed. “I’ll have a pint of your Brooklyn Lager. Reminds me of home, you know.”
“Sure thing, I guess.” The bartender wandered, teeming with disinterest, back to grab the Jäger for the eight shots.
The woman standing beside me leaned in. “God, could he get any more bored about it?”
Phillip smiled, and shook his head. “I’m not sure he could.” For most, the disinterest was fine, just meaning it took longer than normal for the bartender to serve them drinks. But it bugged Phillip. That said, he hadn’t gotten his drink yet, so he bore with it.
Soon enough, he returned with the tray for the actress, who picked it up. “I’m going to tell them all to expect you, so you better be coming.”
“I already said I would, but you better not be expecting me to take any shots.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Sure you won’t,” she said, smirking, then she turned to leave.
Phillip leaned onto the bar, and locked eyes with the bartender. “Could you please at least act a little happy with your job?” That brown star once again flashed across his eyes.
The man shrugged. “Sure thing, friend.” And his eyes instantly brightened as he poured the beer. The disinterest was still there, but not nearly as intense. Phillip took the drink with a smile and a nod, then headed over to meet up with the actors. He joined the group as one of the others was taking a shot.
“Sue,” one of the mostly sober ones asked, “Is this that guy you were talking about?”
“I can see what you meant by the cheekbones,” added the guy who just finished his shot.
Sue nodded. “I mean, look at him,” she said.
Phillip was getting an odd feeling off of one of them, but he couldn’t tell which one, really. They all seated themselves and went through introductions. The one who’d revealed his new drinking buddy’s name was Derek. The one who’d taken the shot was called Ivan. Then there was Peterson, and Alex, and Irene, and Liz. Phillip also introduced himself, hoping that either these people were the normal kind of watchers that paid no attention to the latter parts in the credits, or that there was some guy named Phil who worked in the graphic department. No one called him on it, meaning he was probably safe.
The longer he spent with these seven, the more they drank. It turns out that the shots were some kind of trivia game, based on someone asking a question about their surroundings, and if the other answers correctly, the asker drinks, while if they answer wrong, the answerer drinks. Phillip, of course, answered everything right, and just continued drinking his beer, casually. And the more drinks everyone had, the more that odd vibe he’d been getting early began focusing in. For some reason, Irene was causing a pit in his stomach, and not just because she had such an old-timey name. There was something dark inside her, which felt like a constant tide of what could only be described as death itself. And, like him, she’d also been getting all the questions right. He was not expecting anyone to be that alert here. It was his drinking night, and everyone should have been drinking hard. In fact, as far as he could tell, she’d been drinking hard as well. But she seemed perfectly sober. Shaking his head, he tried to put those thoughts out of his mind and simply enjoy himself.
Sue pulled him over to a corner. “Listen, Phillip, I’m nervous. Now that my character’s dead, I don’t know what I’m going to do next.”
Phillip nodded and smiled at her. “You’ll just go and get a new part. A recurring part on a big show.”
She shook her head. “Parts aren’t that common, and they’re always hotly contested. I’m not sure I’m actually that good, comparatively.”
Phillip nodded and smiled. “You can’t think like that. You will get an audition soon, and you will go into that, and kick butt, get a nice part, and be amazing at it.” His eyes sparked with the golden spiral and the brown star behind the blue, but he forced his eyes to grow even more blue. Hopefully by strengthening the façade, the weirdness wouldn’t be noticed, and he wouldn’t have to make them all forget him. He kind of liked them, and he thought they felt roughly the same about him.
Sue nodded and smiled. “If you say so,” she said, uncertainty in her voice, “I just don’t know.”
Phillip shook his head at her. “You really shouldn’t think like that. Defeatism is the surest way to become defeated.”
Sue shook her head back and laughed. “You’re a strange guy, you know.”
Philip smirked at her. “You don’t know the half of it.”
Sue sighed. “I’m sure. And once you become an actor, I’ll have time to learn it.”
He shrugged. “Some, perhaps.”
She looked intensely at him. “You have no idea how much I’ll work at it.”
“You can certainly try,” Phillip said, heading back over to the B-listers table. Sue followed shortly afterwards.
“How was the talk?” Irene asked Sue.
“Alright, I guess,” Sue replied, “He just tried to reassure me.”
Phillip smiled. “Something like that,” he said to Irene, still not super comfortable with the tidal wave of darkness flowing from her.
Irene’s grim demeanor turned to face him. “Well, cheekbones, as long as you didn’t try anything.”
“I’d never,” he replied coyly.
“I’m sure.” Irene’s face had grown no less grim, nor did that feeling of death that surrounded her.
Phillip shook his head, and the games continued. By the end of the night, Phillip was drunk, though he had yet to mess up in the game. Irene, despite her heavy drinking, had also not messed up in the game, and still appeared sober. The others, however, were stumbling over each other, drunk. Irene decided to call it a night and got all of her people moving. “See you later, cheekbones,” she told Phillip as a gentle go-screw-yourself.
“Not if I see you first, dear Irene.” Phillip’s eyes were filled with curiosity. As they left, he left as well, nodding to the now happy bartender. He walked right past the bartender who would soon forget about his existence and walked into an alley nearby. He slowly looked in a small makeup mirror, and said quietly, “This mirror sees through the eyes of the Susan I just charmed.” The mirror warped into a view, not of behind him, but rather of a cab. In the cab with her were Derek, Ivan, Peterson, Alex, and Liz. Irene was nowhere to be seen. Closing the mirror, he began to walk through the alleys back to his apartment. Behind him, he heard a noise. Quietly he murmured to himself, “I can see what is behind me until I blink.” His vision grew hazy a moment, and behind him, in the shadows of the alley, skulked Irene. Blinking, his vision returned to normal. “Hello, dear Irene, did you forget anything?”
“No, just kept my curiosity with me. What were you doing with that mirror earlier?”
“Looking at it. Why are you following me?”
“Because you’re more than you say, but I can’t tell what.”
Phillip nodded. “You know, I was hoping that tonight, I wouldn’t have to. I liked talking with you people. Almost was tempted to go into acting, too. But I’m afraid you will be forgetting me the moment I turn that corner.” A brown star flashed within his eyes.
“So, it is true. I thought you people were just a myth.” Irene was unfazed, and her own eyes became red for just a moment.
“You’ve seen mine, now what’s your deal?”
Irene was in front of him in the blink of an eye. She grabbed his shirt with a single hand and lifted him up into the air. From the new angle and how close he now was, Phillip could see the strange aura more clearly. This woman was dead, by all rights. Curious. She’d also caused death, but not as a murderer and more like an animal of some sort. Irene leaned into his ear, “And you’ve already seen that you can’t mess with my mind.”
Phillip nodded. If fiction had any realism behind it, this woman was a vampire. And about to kill him. His eyes grew wide and he thought fast. “But that’s not all I can do,” he said quickly, “We are atop the Taklamakan Dunes, after all.” His golden spirals spun behind his steely blues.
And the pair were no longer in the alley. Irene stood on desert sand. Above them, the sun shone down, harsh. Dropping Phillip, Irene started screaming in pain. Phillip mused that perhaps fiction isn’t entirely wrong, at least in this instance. The woman before him that felt of death was clearly a vampire. And, the sun directly above them, reflecting off the sand around them, was killing her. Or, at the very least, immensely painful for her.
“Sorry,” Phillip half whispered to the screaming woman, “But no one can know about me.” He stood and watched her writhing, trying to escape her death. He could feel her pain, but that didn’t matter. He reminded himself that she was already dead. He didn’t kill her. And he waited.
When there was nothing left but clothes and dust, he piled a bit of sand over the clothing, and said with force, “I am back in that alley.” The spirals behind his eyes began to spin one last time for the night, and once again he stood in the alley. Some of the desert sand had travelled with him on his clothes. Sweeping it off, Phillip headed back to his bed. Didn’t matter so much that she’d tried to eat him or that she’d proven to exist something that he’d always thought a myth, she’d shown him something important. Being a small-time actor might not be a problem. It might just be a way to keep suspicions off of him. He decided to send in an audition tape first thing the next day.
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