The large metal door opened with a low groan, revealing a small, dimly lit foyer, plush chairs, and mirrored tables gleaming faintly under the sparse lighting. A single, lopsided chandelier cast long, distorted shadows across the dilapidated lobby. The smooth white and black tiles shifted beneath my feet from ages of decay as I approached the wooden desk, where a wizened vampire sat hunched over, his long, hooked nose nearly touching the ancient, leather-bound book before him. Bits of white hair peeked from his ears, contrasting with the sharp gleam of his black eyes, which sparkled merrily behind his small, round glasses.
As I approached the desk, the old man moved away from his worn novel and fixated upon me. “Welcome to The Carlton, will you be joining us tonight?” His raspy and dry voice had a curious lilt at the end of each phrase, as if every sentence were an unspoken question.
I nodded, wondering if I should turn and run out the door. Was this a mistake? What was I getting myself into?
“Ah, a first timer.” His smile was sharp, and a flash of white teeth glinted in the dim light, catching my eye. The man rummaged under the dusty desk, his knuckles cracking as he held a dented metal bottle to me. “The party is in the ballroom on the first floor; you should have no problems finding it. That damn music is so loud.” He shook his head, and his lip curled. “With entry, you have access to all five floors of the hotel. Each level has at least one bar where you’re welcome to fill your bottle with blood, free of charge.”
A gust of frigid air rushed in as the door behind me swung open, making me shiver violently as the cold seeped into my bones. A strangled gasp escaped my lips as my head slowly turned, expecting Gabe’s furious glare behind me. Instead, I saw a tall, slightly overweight, bald man in a rumpled suit, his upturned nose wrinkled as if he’d smelled something rotten.
I swung my head around to be out of eye sight, knowing full well his outfit meant he was a politician of some sort. If he recognized me, my father would instantly be alerted to my defiance, and I’d find myself back in my penthouse within seconds. Turning to the old vampire behind the desk, I nodded. “Understood, thank you.”
“One moment, young man.” He held up a finger, its skin so wrinkled and prune-like that it looked as though it was soaking in water for years. “If you choose to go to any other floors, you’ll need to purchase a locker. You cannot wear outside clothes on those floors; there are robes in each locker.”
Fuck. I didn’t even think to take some coins from my stash before I left my penthouse. I’ve never had access to actual money, just the few stray coins or crumpled dollar bills I managed to find here and there. Everything I’ve always wanted has always just been…paid for. For sixty-five years, money was never a thought or concern for me. “I-I’ll just go to the party,” I mumbled.
The man behind me dropped a few coins on the desk, each leaving a dull thud on the wooden desk. “I’ll pay for him tonight.” He gave a sly wink as his lips curved into a slight smile. “I hope to see you inside.”
A hand brushed my butt, the unexpected touch causing me to stiffen, and I instantly slapped his hand away. My skin tingled with a mixture of anger and revulsion. “Thank you,” I muttered before grabbing the gold keychain the old vampire man was holding.
“Enjoy yourself, wherever the night may take you.” His words, accompanied by a sly smirk, caused a buzzing sound to fill the lobby as the lights on the large metal door switched from red to green, a low hum vibrating through the floor.
Chapter Seven
The music vibrated through my veins like tiny bombs, each beat a little explosion of sound and feeling. It felt as if my pulse melded with the powerful bass line emanating from the speakers next to the DJ. I didn’t know the music, but it didn’t matter. I danced with my arms flung high and a smile playing on my lips as the vibrant music filled the air with a joyful, swirling energy of notes and rhythms. This was what it felt like to be alive.
And I was obsessed.
Multicolored lights strobed alongside the heavy beat drops, painting the swaying crowd in a hypnotic rhythm. The bass thrummed through the floor and crawled up my body. Flashing light sticks and neon props created a dizzying spectacle, their movement a blur of color against the darkness, while a tangible energy vibrated through the crowd. It was like I was in a movie, and everything was happening in slow motion. Swaying my hips and moving my feet to the rhythm, I let my body take control, feeling the music course through my veins.
Though the room was full of vampires, the air was warm with the combined heat of our bodies. The cold metal of the bottle,hooked onto my belt, clinked rhythmically against my leg with each step, a constant reminder to stay hydrated.
Snapping out of my euphoric state, I opened my eyes to a world of vibrant colors and unfamiliar sounds, feeling like a newborn taking in the world for the first time. The flashing lights blurred my vision, and each face became a jumbled mess of features, making it impossible to recognize anyone. I was dancing by myself, but it was clear I was in the minority. A couple engaged in an intimate kiss caught my eye to the left, while a group of girls danced energetically together ahead.
Time became meaningless, but the gnawing thirst was real, and I knew I needed to fill my empty canteen as quickly as possible. Pushing through the throngs of people, I made my way to the bar. With a sigh, I leaned on my elbows, the bar’s dim lights reflecting on my wet hair as I ran my fingers through it, waiting for the bartender to notice me. I noticed two men, one of whom gave me a brief, almost imperceptible nod.
“Hey, don’t we know you?” one of the men yelled over the blaring music.
I shook my head and turned away from them, scurrying away to not be seen. I knew what would happen if anyone recognized me, and I was having too much fun to go home. Plus, even though the rest of The Carlton was a bit sleazier, I wanted to see more.
With a burst of adrenaline, I raced for the exit, my fingers hitting the elevator button for the hotel’s second floor. The old metal doors groaned open, and I leaped inside, slamming the button to close them with a frantic push. With my back to the metal interior, I sighed in relief as they sealed shut, keeping out all others.
Barely a moment passed before the doors re-opened with a slight creak, revealing a small, empty foyer and two plain doors directly across from one another. Walking through the doormarked with a man icon, I was thrust into a room that reeked of sweat—a locker room whose smell instantly turned my stomach.
Before the apocalypse, the locker room at my school always felt like a battleground. Was I going to get caught in an explosion of name-calling, or was a bomb of toxic masculinity going to go off? Would I get shot by snide remarks from metaphorical guns or be left alone to fight another day? As an openly gay guy in school, being around straight men was always anxiety-inducing—what would they do and what would they say if I accidentally glanced anywhere but directly in front of me?
With my arms crossed and shoulders tense, I walked through the locker room, taking care not to look anywhere there was movement. Reaching the back of the room, I found an empty locker in the corner amongst the faded red metal lockers. A rusty groan echoed from the door as it swung inward, revealing a lone white robe hanging limply from a hook.
Here we go.
I untied the silky shirt around my waist and carefully hung it from a hook inside. I grabbed the soft cotton undershirt, pulled it over my head, and shimmied out of my sweaty pants. As my belt hit the tiled floor, a metal clank sounded through the area. Together, I rolled them into a ball and threw them inside. I looked down at my exposed body and looked past the small tuft of hair in the center of my chest. Do I wear my underwear?
I returned to the battlefield and glanced at those around me. While one man, with a sagging belly, paraded around in his birthday suit, another man swiftly discarded his clothes to slip into a robe. I diverted my eyes before each of them could notice and let out a sigh of relief—no need for open fire today. I lifted my head, the fluorescent lights reflecting harshly, and squinted to make out a faded sign hanging from rusty chains above the lockers that read, ‘No outside clothes beyond this point.’
Well, there’s my answer.
As I wrapped the scratchy robe around my shoulders, it served as a barrier from the prying eyes of others while I discreetly removed my underwear and placed them with my other possessions.
I did it.
