“Going to shows alone sucks,” Luis said. “You’re not here, so....” he shrugged.
“Maybe you could ask uh–does Julien like music?” She asked.
Julien did, but Luis doubted he’d be into something like Lettuce Shredder. He said so.
“Hm. Well you could always ask and see? And next time I come down we’ll go out. There’s a new open mic downtown.” She didn’t say it with a tone, but Luis could read her like the back of his hand.
“Oh look, another dead horse,” Luis said dryly.
“I just think you’d love it if you actually did it! It would be scary, but once you did it, it’d be less scary. Youloveplaying Luis, and you’regoodat it.”
Omitted were all the things standing between him and performing at an open mic night. That had felt like a terrifying undertaking even when Cassiewashere. Now it felt impossible. He couldn’t even get himself to go to the grocery store in a given month.
Fuck, he was pathetic.
“Uh huh,” he said blandly.
The screen moved around on Cassie’s end, and then there was a chirp of her car unlocking. “Okay, getting in the car now.”
“All safe?”
“Si. I live to see another day. Alright, I’ll let you go. Have fun with your vampire friends, and change your clothes! I’ll call you Sunday when I finish lab, and we can watch a movie or something.”
“Sounds good,” Luis said. “Love you.”
“Love you,” she said, looking directly into the camera. “Thanks for walking me to my car.” Then, before Luis could squirm under the sudden shift to sincerity, the camera cut off and the call disconnected. He let out a breath.
Pocketing his phone, Luis gave himself an assessing look in the mirror. His dark curls were unruly, and the t-shirt he’d been wearing since he’d crawled out of bed this morning was wrinkled.
Maybe Cassie had a point. Not about trying to flirt with married vampires, just about not looking like he’d given up.
Luis sifted through the pile of clean clothes in his bedroom and came out with a pair of dark jeans and a Flaming Ruby Kiss band shirt, sans-holes. He spent a few minutes in front of the mirror trying to tame his curls, forcing them from bedhead to something he hoped looked more artfully disheveled. He didn’t nail it, but it was… better.
Maybe.
Now, in the bathroom mirror, he looked like someone who might still have some life left in him.
The band name on his shirt was faded from dozens of washes and a handful of years, but it reminded him of a good show, a good night out with Cassie. He missed those kinds of nights, when it had still felt like anything was possible. Like maybe one day he was going to be brave enough to get up there on that stage himself.
Had that door shut for him? He was over thirty now, and while Cassie had gone off to chase her dreams, Luis was still here, stagnating. Her world was expanding, and his was getting smaller and smaller by the day. His life sanded down to just the space of his apartment.
She was right, he needed to try harder. There was no one else who was going to do it for him.
Luis went back to his room and stood in front of his closet. In the back was a dark blue button-up he’d worn only to quinceañeras and weddings previously. Before he could change his mind, he pulled it out.
The button-up was stiff and awkward when he put it on, the fabric still so new it hadn’t conformed to him like the rest of his wardrobe. In the mirror it did look nicer though. Like something a guy in his thirties might wear out at a nice bar. Like the attire of someone who didn’t need to take a second job to beat agoraphobia allegations.
Karim was going to clock the shirt in a second, but maybe it would distract from his cheek.
Right on time, his phone chimed with a reminder that it was time to go. Luis grabbed his keys and wallet, and marched himself out the door before he could second-guess it.
Chapter Two
Luis pulled his old Honda into the driveway of a sprawling, immaculately landscaped Spanish-style house and felt, for the first time in months, nervous. He parked beside the sleek, black Audi and got out, flicking through his keys for the one they’d given him. The Audi unlocked and he slid into the cool, black leather seat.
The chair was always too far back, for someone much taller than him, and he adjusted it and then took a deep breath.
It was fine, it was only a shirt.
