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Aiden and I look at each other, then to her. At the same time, we exclaim, “No!”

She rolls her eyes. “Everyone is going for drinks. Are you guys coming?” Do cows go moo? I would never turn down a drink.

“N—” Aiden begins.

“Yes!” I yell out, interrupting him.

Aiden sighs. “Yes. But I won’t be able to teleport for five days.”

Yirah shrugs. “No problem. I’ll take you both there and bring you back. You both live next to each other so it won’t be a hassle.”

I jump up and grab my purse. I walk quickly over to Yirah, throwing an arm around her.

“How are you, my Yirah?” I ask her.

Yirah puts an arm around me. “I’m great, Joy Joy. Ready to get my drink on!”

A wide grin spreads across my face. “A woman after my own heart.”

“Oh wow, I didn’t know you had one of those,” Aiden mutters sarcastically as he removes his suit jacket and places it on the back of his chair. He rolls up his sleeves, providing me the perfect view of his shapely forearms. Aiden’s arms are proof that God is a woman. But then again, maybe only a man would put such an ungrateful personality in a gorgeous package.

I flip my middle finger at him. He lets out a low chuckle and walks over to us, putting an arm on Yirah’s shoulder.

“Alright, let’s go!” Yirah exclaims. The world flickers and in the next moment we are in an alleyway. Aiden removes his hand from her to walk ahead of us. Yirah and I follow him while chatting about our day. I tell her how I kicked ass collecting souls, and that I should be a reaper. She tells me about the priest who made a whole scene when told that he was going to Hell. I was confused, until she explained that he was stealing money from the church donations to gamble. He tried to explain to her how he begged God for forgiveness each time. Guess that didn’t work out for him.

We turn the corner and walk a block before arriving at the bar. Aiden disappears inside, but I stop Yirah before she enters.

“Where exactly are we?” I ask, looking around the busy streets and skyscraper buildings.

She stretches out her arms and does a twirl. “Darling, we are in New York City! The land of rats, dreams, expensive parking, and weird smells everywhere you go. But the vibes are always immaculate. I’ve always been interested in humanity’s love for this concrete jungle.”

I laugh. “You say that as if you weren’t once human.”

She smiles in return. “You’re right. It just feels like a million years ago.” She grabs my hand and pulls me into the bar behind her. I couldn’t tell you the last time I’ve been inside one of these. The music is loud. Everyone is drinking and laughing. We walk past a group of people in scrubs taking shots. Yirah guides me to a table in the back with Joey, Aiden, and a couple of other reapers I’ve never met.

I lean in to Yirah and ask, “How is it possible that you all can just come out and drink? Shouldn’t everyone be working? What if someone from your past life recognizes you?”

She laughs and pats my hand. “We all have schedules for when we work. There are always reapers working, but we take shifts. Could you imagine if we had to work all day, every day? To answer your other question: reaper’s faces are perceived differently. Everyone sees us uniquely. No one will ever be able to recognize us. Since you are working for us, your face does this, too.” I nod in understanding. That makes sense. Looking at it, being a reaper is no less than being alive.

A waitress comes over and stands near Joey and Aiden. “What can I get y’all to drink?” she asks the table. Well, it’s more like she asked Aiden and Joey. Yirah and I don’t exist for her.

“Uh, let me get an old-fashioned. Top shelf,” Aiden requests without looking up from the menu.

She leans in close to him. “Anything else, honey?”

He looks up and gives her a dazzling smile. “That’s it for me.”

I roll my eyes at his response. She winks then takes Joey’s order, flirting with him too. The only difference is that Joey asks her what she is doing later. When the waitress is done flirting with Joey, she begins to walk away towards the bar. She didn’t even bother taking Yirah’s and my order. I begin to open my mouth, but Yirah beats me to it, clapping her hands twice to get the waitress’ attention. The waitress turns in our direction, her face slightly confused at the sight of us. Nice.

“You didn’t take our drink orders,” Yirah states, her brow arched.

“Oh,” the waitress grumbles. “What do you want?”

Yirah replies, “Six green tea shots, four lemon drops, and two beers. Bring them in that order too.” She pauses. “Oh! And an order of fries, mozzarella sticks, and spinach dip.”

I blurt, “Goddamn, Yirah. Are we drinking for pleasure, or getting smashed?” Because if I drink all of that, I will be on the floor.

Yirah looks at me, innocently confused. “Are those not one and the same?” I stare at her. Then blink. A smile spreads across my face and I grab her hand.