Brent stood in the doorway wearing pajama pants that hung low on his hips and a t-shirt that read "World's Okayest Employee" stretched tight across his broad chest. His brown hair stuck up in a mess, and even half-asleep he looked like he could bench press a washing machine.
Idly, Charlie wondered if he could also bench press the hunter who'd pursued Charlie.
Maybe.
Except the hunter had been fit too.
Very fit.
"Bro." Brent stepped aside to let Charlie in. "What happened to you?"
"Someone tried to kill me."
"What?" Brent's eyes went wide. "Are you serious? Did you call the cops?"
Charlie followed him up the narrow staircase. "I can't call the cops."
"Why not? Charlie, if someone actually tried to kill you, you have to tell the cops!"
"He tried to kill me with a silver-plated stake."
Brent stopped on the second-floor landing and turned around. His concerned expression slowly shifted to something that looked almost... impressed.
"Oh. OH." Brent grinned. "Dude, you went to one of those hardcore LARP events, didn't you? Those that offer a real immersive experience?"
"What? No!"
"This is amazing." Brent unlocked his apartment door, completely ignoring Charlie's protest. "Look at you! You've got fake blood all over you. Was there like a chase sequence?"
Charlie followed him into the small apartment, setting the pile of laundry carefully on Brent's coffee table.
"Brent, listen to me. I'mactuallya vampire."
"I know, bro. You've been really committed to the whole thing." Brent disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a damptowel. "Here, let me help you get cleaned up. But seriously, how much did this event cost? They run it at this time of night?"
Charlie took the towel and wiped ineffectively at the cherry syrup. "This isn't a game. Someone actually tried to stake me tonight. With a real stake."
"Right, because you're a vampire." Brent nodded seriously. "Did you have to run through the whole city? Is that why you have all this laundry?"
Charlie looked down at the pile of clothes. "I... borrowed these. I need to return them."
"Oh, that's nice of you to do laundry for other players! You're like the most considerate LARPer ever."
"Brent." Charlie sat down heavily on the couch. This wasn't the first time he'd tried to get through to Brent. Why was he even trying anymore? "Three weeks ago, I got turned into an actual vampire. By an actual vampire." Who had been drunk at the time—because that was just Charlie's luck. Some drunk asshole bit him on a dare and vanished into the night, leaving him to deal with all…this.
"I know your backstory, bro."
Charlie shook his head. "It's terrible. I can't bite people because I faint at the sight of blood, I can barely use any of my powers. And apparently there are people out there who want to kill me just for existing."
Brent looked at him. "Maybe you should step back from the LARP community for a while."
Charlie let his head fall into his hands. The cherry syrup was making his palms sticky. Maybe it didn't matter if Brentunderstood or not. "Can I sleep on your couch tonight? Just until I figure out what to do."
"Of course, man. You know you're always welcome here." Brent stood and headed toward his bedroom. "Let me grab you some clean clothes. And Charlie?"
"Yeah?"
"Even if you ran into some nutjobs, I'm really proud of you for getting so into a hobby. It's the most passionate I've ever seen you about anything."
