Archive of Our Own

Andrew should’ve known today was going to be tough as soon as he heard Fiona knocking on his door half an hour before he expected her to arrive.

It’s Halloween today, and he’s taken on a one-night shift at the most popular haunted house in the city. Fiona had been the one who encouraged him to take it, going on and on about how her girlfriend and friends were there and that Andrew should totally be there too, at least for Halloween. It’s not like he has anything better to do today. Except… well, nothing.

And, as Andrew is not particularly one for… well, plans… he’s not ready at all.

“Andrew, are you awake?” Fiona’s sing-songy voice yells through the door, and Andrew yells right back.

“No! Why are you here right now?!”

“‘Cause we have errands to run!”

“WE?!”

Andrew throws his phone back onto his bed in frustration, already sick of trying to squint at the words of the notification he’d tried to read.

“Yes, we! Let me in and let’s get ready!” Fiona answers, her ‘charming’ smile evident in her tone.

Andrew wants to go back to bed just to spite her. “Give me ten minutes.”

“Alright! I’ll set a timer!”

Okay, no going back to bed, apparently. Plus, he’d be in an okay mood if Fiona wasn't so early, right? He can… do this.

Plus, he’ll get sixty bucks for just yelling at people that don’t like him for a few hours if he goes. Not much different from a normal day, except he’s getting paid more.

Groaning, Andrew changes into a baggy black sweater and dark jeans. He doesn't know where his contacts are, and he doesn't have time to look for them. He sticks his thumb when he tries to use a safety pin to close the hole in the armpit, but eventually fixes it and goes to brush his teeth.

After doing that and splashing some water on his face (he can't find his acne medicine either, what kind of crappy day is this?!) he pulls on his sneakers and burns the skin on his knuckles in the process.

Lastly, he takes his cross necklace off the small table by the door and mutters a quick prayer that today isn't inconsolably terrible and slips the necklace on, tucking it under his sweater.

Cat meows, and Andrew is about to panic before he remembers he fed them already.

“I’ll be back soon. Don’t ruin more stuff, I don't wanna have to get more paper towels. They’re stupid expensive.”

Another meow.

He wants to pet them, but he really has to leave… ugh...

Finally, he opens the door right as Fiona looks ready to start knocking way too hard, and she lets her hand fall to her side with a grin as Andrew’s expression becomes horrified.

“We had to dress up?! Desaulniers--and you--never said anything about it!” Andrew runs a hand down the side of his face, staring at whatever Fiona’s even wearing.

“No, no, they’ll give you your outfit there! Calm down,” Fiona laughs, and pulls her braid over her shoulder. She’s dyed her hair again--pale grey this time.

Andrew narrows his eyes. “Then why are you already dressed up? And in such a terrible nun costume, no less?”

“I’m not actually employed there. I’m just hopping on for tonight, too. I wanna see Patricia… and Eli. I guess.” Fiona turns around. “Anyways, let’s get to it! Are you okay with loud music?”

“Yeah, usually,” Andrew says, and trails after Fiona.

He can't believe she’s just walking in… and staying the whole time?! If Andrew had known he could do that and avoid getting that painfully awkward interview with that old man with the long nails, he totally would've. Well, if he still got paid.

As he gets in the car, Fiona looks over at him. “We’re going to the drugstore for my estrogen and for a birthday card for Eli. Do you need anything?”

“No--”

“Okay, cool!” Fiona shuts her car door and, as soon as she turns on the car, some SUPER loud music comes on.

Andrew’s always heard her music from her earbuds because she plays it loud, but this--

Actually. He doesn't care anymore. He pays attention to the lyrics for a little bit, catches something along the lines of ‘dopamine in her brain, she’ll never be the same, acting most tragic passing on the blame okay okay alright’ or whatever it even is before he does his best to tune it out.

It’s a bit hard when Fiona’s singing along (LOUDLY), but Andrew feels she won't hear him if he yells at her to turn everything down. So he doesn't.

As Fiona pulls into the parking lot, she turns the radio off, and the silence almost gives Andrew a headache. That random yelling stuff’s gonna be ringing in his head for weeks, isn't it?

He follows her in the store for no real reason other than to be out of the car, but ends up lingering by the door instead of going to the back counter. He messes with his phone while he waits, and finally manages to decipher what his messages are saying.

They're from Fiona. Saying she’s going to arrive early. From two hours ago.

Andrew feels a little bit like screaming, but he doesn't have time to even wonder if he should or not, because Fiona’s back with a small white bag and a bottle of soda.

“And we’ll be off!” she calls, leaving Andrew to hurry after her as soon as he realizes she’s not stopping to wait.

She turns her music right back on, and Andrew has to sit through who knows how long of it the whole time they drive there.

He realizes with a start he slept right through lunch and won’t have dinner until some ridiculously late hour because of the shift time, and all he can do is thank himself for waking up earlier to have breakfast and feed Cat before going back to bed.

Honestly, he’d even sleep some more if that music wasn't so loud. But, he can't, so he spends his time murmuring a Rosary and counting the prayers on his fingers.

Some time in the third decade, Fiona stops and turns off her music again--it’s definitely ringing in his head for the next month, no doubt about it--and steps out of the car. “There’s someone named Aesop. They’ll do your makeup and stuff for you, come on! But let’s say hi to everyone first--first, Patricia.”

Using the car door to balance himself, Andrew steps out and follows after Fiona. The haunted house isn't open yet; it opens at five, but it’s about four-thirty right now, so it’s not too far off.

Fiona walks inside and looks around absently before a lady with a zombie-looking getup appears around the corner, (fake?) blood dripping down her face.

Fiona gasps in delight and leaves Andrew to stand there stupidly as she yanks the person that is probably Patricia into a tight hug. “Hey, babe! I’m staying as a staff member for tonight. I’ll text you nonstop, though. I’m gonna take Andrew to get his makeup done for now, though.”

Patricia looks away from Fiona and to Andrew. Her voice is calm and cool, mostly matching her nonchalant expression. “Hello… Andrew…? What are you supposed to be?”

Andrew stares at the wounds on her arms instead of her face. “Ghost. I’m gonna go get my makeup done now.”

He doesn't remember where to go from his one other visit, and Fiona kisses Patricia on the forehead before calling out to Andrew, “Wrong way!”

Andrew huffs, turning around. “Then what's the right way?”

“We’re meeting everyone first,” Fiona chides, and laughs a bit when Andrew groans. “They’re all nice! I’ve mentioned most of them before!”

“...Fine,” Andrew sighs, and heads after her. Patricia waves as he walks by, so he ends up waving back halfheartedly.

After walking who knows where, Andrew suddenly recognizes the room he walks into as the one he was interviewed in--just with many more
people in it.

“Who are you?” someone asks, and Andrew can't tell who’s speaking, busy marveling at the costumes--and how good the makeup is. He already forgot who Fiona said does makeup, but they must be really good.

Fiona gestures to Andrew, and he breathes a sigh of relief once he realizes she’s not going to put her hand on his shoulder. “This is Andrew! I’m going to introduce you one by one really quickly. Also, I’m staying with you tonight!”

“Wait, what--” A man wrapped in bandages speaks up and is immediately cut off.

“That’s Eli,” Fiona notes. “The werewolf next to him is Naib.”

Naib looks up from his phone, one of his beastly-looking gloves in his lap so he can continue to tap at the screen. He doesn't smile, just nods.

“The clown is Mike, and the doll is Margie.”

“Oh, hey!” Mike grins, and Andrew hopes he doesn't need to spend much time with him. His makeup is way too creepy.

The girl next to him, Margie, looks small in comparison, and her skin is pale and flushed as she toys with something in her hands. “Hello…”

“Then there was Patricia, who was a zombie. That’s all the workers I know! Makeup’s that way!”

Fiona points at a door, and Andrew heads off, but not before he catches a conversation.

“For your birthday,” Fiona hums. “Patty and I have cake at the house.”

“Huh--” Eli is cut off by Mike and who’s probably Naib suddenly clamoring.

“It’s your birthday?!??”

“Since when?!”

Andrew decides to let the door fall shut, well-distanced from whatever those people have going on.

He looks in front of him and realizes that there are a lot of costumes in the room--but the person at the table covered in makeup palettes is not wearing any costume at all.

...Minus the face mask and cat ear headband that looks like something a child would wear.

“...Are you Aesop?” Andrew asks, and they nod.

“Yes. Who are you?”

Their voice is quiet, and Andrew almost doesn't catch it because his ears are STILL ringing--thanks, Fiona!

“Andrew. Ghost.”

Aesop turns in his chair and does something Andrew can’t see, but suddenly a tall man dressed in red and a gold mask heads over to where a bunch of clothes are hung, a golden-colored dog winding around his legs that reminds Andrew of Cat--but only when Cat’s feeling sociable.

“...Hello?” Aesop asks, likely for the second or third time. “Sit down, please.”

As Andrew sits down, he can see Aesop’s face well enough to realize that they definitely don't want to be here. Andrew can't really blame them.

“Sit still.”

Andrew isn’t even moving--

Without much warning, Aesop is already brushing powder onto Andrew’s face. They don't speak any more, and Andrew doesn't really feel like speaking, so it works out.

Well, they speak more, but only to tell Andrew to stop moving or stop frowning.

After some time, Aesop finally steps away. They reach over the table then hold out a mirror to Andrew. Awkwardly, Andrew takes the mirror and squints at his reflection.

“You’re already looking enough like a ghost. I didn't add a lot.”

Andrew stares at Aesop pointedly, but Aesop’s already looking away. “Victor has your outfit. Change behind the curtain and I’ll add blood after you’re done.”

Andrew looks at Victor’s dog instead of Victor, but ends up walking off when Victor places the clothes in his arms anyways.

There’s a mirror, but Andrew can’t even see well enough to use it for any small details, so he changes and notes that he looks like something out of a history book with a little bit of disdain.

“Where do we put normal clothes?” Andrew calls.

“Write your name on a paper bag,” Aesop explains, and Andrew steps out from behind the curtain with a sigh.

Andrew’s getting a little cagey. He doesn't like being the focus of so much attention, even if it’s indirect. “Where are the bags gonna be?”

Victor points at a corner, and Andrew only then realizes all the paper bags there. He goes over, ignoring the stares on his back as he scribbles his name down with the Sharpie on the floor and shoves his clothes in there. When he stands up, Aesop’s suddenly much closer, a small bottle in his hand.

“You’re monochrome, so your blood’s grey. Stay still.”

Aesop puts blood on Andrew’s chin and on his chest, where Andrew realizes his overshirt is a bit torn. Is he supposed to be shot?

“...Thanks,” Andrew says, and Aesop nods before Andrew turns and leaves.

Now that it’s over, he’s a bit less frustrated with it, but still--

“Woah! You definitely look dead, Andrew!”

“Aesop said I already looked dead in the first place,” Andrew mutters, wanting to touch his face but knowing better than to mess up the makeup.

Fiona tosses a silvery-looking ring between her hands and shrugs helplessly. “Well, the place is opening in five minutes! Joseph went over our roles and all you really have to do is walk around, look creepy, and bump into people! Isn’t that nice?”

“It’s just to get paid,” Andrew sighs.

“So you’re not even doing this for the company?” Fiona asks.

“I mean, I can… it’s not up to me, I’m just here. I guess it’s… um, okay to be here.” An uncomfortable heat creeps up his neck and Fiona giggles.

“Don't worry about it; just try your best to enjoy yourself! I thought it’d be a nice chance for you to meet my friends and get out of the house. This wasn't Project Stress Andrew, you know!”

After a few seconds, Andrew finds he can only come up with a noncommittal shrug and waits for Fiona to lead the way to where he’s supposed to be. The makeup room is the only place with proper lighting, and he doesn't feel like getting lost.

He’s definitely going to get lost if he’s left to wander on his own. Ugh.

Soon, Fiona leaves him in a dusty room
with a bunch of furniture in it. It looks like an attic. “You’re supposed to be here! I’ll see you later!”

Fiona starts to walk away, but Andrew makes her pause when he clears his throat.

“...Thanks.”

“Aww, Andrew has mann--actually, no,” she huffs, tilting her head back to hide her grin, “I’m just gonna tell you you're welcome. Seeya later!”

Andrew can't bring himself to smile much, but he waves as she leaves and sits down in the first non-broken chair he spots, a little wary of the violent creaking.

Suddenly, his phone starts buzzing. Really? Is this really happening? Who would even want to call him?

But when he takes it out, he realizes…

It’s just a freakishly huge amount of texts, and it looks like it’s mainly from numbers he doesn't recognize. He only notices the pink emojis he put by Fiona’s name (to help identify who she is when he can't read well, like right now).

If he tries, he can probably figure out what Fiona’s saying.

...Nope.

Putting his phone on airplane mode, Andrew looks up just in time to see the mummy and the werewolf from earlier, looking lost.

“...Hello?” Andrew asks, and the mummy jumps.

“Since when--ah, hello. Are you Andrew?” the mummy asks.

“...Yes. You’ll see me if you move the bandages off your eyes, you know.”

“Oh, I can't see anyways. I’m blind.”

An awkward pause. Andrew has absolutely no idea how to respond to that.

“Well, happy birthday,” is what he comes up with, and the mummy brings a hand to his face, probably to hide a smile.

His voice is sincere when he speaks, though. “Thank you. Do you know where we’re supposed to be going?”

“No.”

“Then we’ll be going,” the werewolf says, and Andrew watches as he takes the mummy’s hand and they both leave the room.

At least he was scary?

Andrew watches as the lights dim and change color a bit, and simply sits still in the chair. He already spooks people because they don’t notice he’s there, so this should work extra well since it’s the exact thing except he’s dressed more scarily.

It takes longer than he thought it would, but a group of people eventually filter in, looking around--and totally over Andrew.

Well. He was right, at least.

He waits until the people, likely a total hodgepodge of strangers, are halfway through the room, and then he stands up.

“Get out.”

Immediate panic.

Is that ghostly enough--

Everyone’s already freaking out, so Andrew takes a step forward and watches as people dart out of the room and the rest of the crowd rushes after them.

A little kid with a pumpkin Halloween basket on his head stays in the doorway. “I like your costume!”

Huh?

Andrew blinks, dumbfounded before he realizes the kid’s complimenting him. “Oh, um. Thanks. Yours is good too.”

“I know! I made it myself,” the kid grins. “My name’s Robbie, and I’m gonna compliment every costume here. What’s your name, mister?”

“...Andrew,” he replies, and sticks his hand in his pocket. He only has a mint, but… “Take this, okay?”

He tosses it to the kid, who looks at what he’s caught and explodes into giggles. “Thank you, Mister Andrew! I gotta go now, I’m going again with my aunties later!”

“Have fun, um, Robbie,” Andrew says, and watches as the kid sprints off after carefully tucking the mint into his pocket.

That’s nice, someone who’s not scared of... scary stuff. Andrew really liked spiders as a kid, and if people weren't deterred by how he looked or acted, him carrying around bugs and spiders always did it for them.

He hopes the kid gets to compliment everyone.

Settling back in the chair, Andrew once again resists the urge to touch his face because he can't mess up the makeup. It’s why he doesn't really wear makeup in the first place, unless it’s something plain like eyeliner. It doesn't make him look nice or anything, but it’s… nice… for lack of better wording, he guesses.

Not too much time passes before another group walks in. Andrew doesn’t spot the bright orange of the pumpkin bucket Robbie’s wearing, so he and his ‘aunties’ probably aren’t there yet. Letting his voice relax into a lower and presumably scarier volume, Andrew stands up again.

Repeat, repeat, repeat.

It gets a little boring after a while, and with too much time to think, Andrew finds he really doesn't like it. Makes him think too much of school, minus the teasing. At least some people wearing costumes look cool; he especially likes a girl dressed in all grey so as to appear as a Greek statue.

He loses track of the people, but he feels better once he spots the bright orange of Robbie’s pumpkin hat at the front of the new group, and behind him two ladies in costume. One looks like she’s supposed to be the Queen of Hearts, and the other looks like a doll of sorts, almost all blue and white. The Queen of Hearts has a big red pocket knife, and the doll has a fan.

“Hi, Mister Andrew!” Robbie says, right before Andrew stands up, and he suddenly feels much less intimidating and much more intimidated as at least ten gazes land on him.

He keeps his voice low and waves a bit. “Hi, Robbie. Are those your aunties?”

“Yeah!” Robbie says, turning around to look up at the ladies. “Joseph is letting me show them around!”

The lady in blue laughs. “Don’t worry, he’s bewildered a couple other workers.”

The Queen of Hearts sighs. “Not even scary, but just a sallow face? I appreciate Aesop trying, but they didn't make you frightening. The zombie outside looks the best.”

“Mary!” the blue lady snaps, tapping her lightly with her fan.

“Ugh, alright. Robbie, is he the one who gave you the mint?”

“Yeah! I already ate--”

The lights flicker out.

“HUH?!” Robbie screeches. “WHY IS IT DARK--”

“Um, calm down,” Andrew calls out, and turns the flashlight on his phone on. Some people in the group have the same idea.

“Okay, it’s not dark anymore, I’m okay! I’ll protect everyone!” Robbie yells above the murmuring.

The Queen of Hearts points her flashlight at Andrew, and he flinches. “How do we get out?”

“I… someone else showed me here, I don't know,” Andrew admits, wanting nothing more than to go back to not being noticed as the Queen rolls her eyes, exasperated.

“Don’t worry, Mister Andrew! Follow me, Joseph let me wander a lot before it opened! I can show everyone!” Robbie turns and the lady in blue hands him her phone, so he points the flashlight up at the ceiling.

He has to consciously think about moving, but he ends up behind Robbie, who starts walking into the dark confidently, waving the flashlight around sporadically.

Andrew’s not scared of the dark, but what makes him nervous is the people crowding forward, none of them eager to get lost in this maze of a house. He doesn't like them brushing up against him or whispering, even if he tells himself it’s not about him.

His skin starts to crawl at some point, and he picks at the gloves he has on to try and distract himself, but he only feels worse once he accidentally undoes some seams.

He still pulls the seams apart, of course.

Eventually, Robbie finds a crowd of people in the entrance of the house, where a few actual flashlights--and a lot of phone flashlights--illuminate the area.

Okay, time to get out to somewhere quieter. Andrew leans down so Robbie can hear him. “Thank you, Robbie. Have a happy Halloween.”

Robbie looks up at Andrew. “Sure thing, Mister Andrew! You too! And thank you for the mint!”

Andrew nods and returns Robbie’s wave before heading off to look for somewhere quieter. He checks the time and turns his phone’s flashlight off, too.

8:25 P.M..

Until midnight, and then he’s out.

He wishes more time could've passed--

“Andrew!”

Andrew looks up to see Fiona, and he wrenches his wrists out of her grip as soon as she grabs them.

Her eyes widen, but she recovers. “Oh, my bad, sorry! Are you alright? You didn’t message the group chat at all!”

“I don't have my contacts,” Andrew scoffs. “I’m not able to read any of it.”

“Aww, we had so much fun! I’m glad you're okay, though. Have you taken any of the candy?”

“...There’s candy?” Since when?

“Bowls all around the house!”

Andrew shrugs halfheartedly, but the tension won’t leave his shoulders. “I didn't notice. I’ll get it later.”

“Okay, make sure you enjoy yourself, though! Did you see the little boy with the pumpkin? He was soooooo cute! And the ladies with him… oh, they were STUNNING!”

Not feeling like divulging that he walked back with them, he nods. “I gave the kid a mint. He was nice.”

“Yes, yes--oh! Also! Patty’s calling in her friend to fix the lights. He’s super good with electricity and stuff, so we should totally be able to keep this up soon!”

Honestly, Andrew’s almost disappointed. He rubs his forearm, fist clenched so he won't mess with the ruined glove any more, as it’s almost falling off. “Really--”

“GOTCHA!” a loud voice yells, and rough hands clap down onto Andrew’s shoulders, thumbs hard against the back of his neck.

Oh, no. No no no.

Right now, when he already feels so...?! UGH!

Andrew screeches and jerks away, swatting at the air for a second until his clenched fist meets flesh and someone grunts in pain.

“Geez, geez, calm down!” the person rushes, and Fiona’s flashlight shines onto the face of the man with all the clown makeup on. He’s holding his forearm and grinning broadly down at Andrew. “You high-strung or something? I’m just tryna scare everyone, and you seemed pretty easy to spook!”

Frustration bubbles up in Andrew’s throat, and he has to swallow hard before he speaks, the beginnings of a headache joining the writhing under his skin. “Well, I am! Leave me alone! That’s such a stupid thing to do, don’t you think?!”

He doesn't know where he’s going, but he turns on his heel and walks off, unable to derive pleasure even from Fiona’s exasperated tone starting to tell the clown off. Or explain. Hopefully the former; it’d be embarrassing for someone to rattle on and on about his claustrophobia.

As it gets quieter and he goes further into the house, he spots the glow of a phone. Aesop and Victor stand in the dark, the sound effects from some random game playing. Andrew takes a turn in the opposite direction.

After a while, he finds a random room and turns his phone flashlight on. It’s mostly plain, the only Halloween decor an orange… bowl of candy on the table with two wooden chairs.

Oh. The candy bowls Fiona was talking about…?

Andrew shuts the door and turns the light back off, spreading his arms out and trying to convince himself he’s no longer crammed into some tiny place.

It works, mostly, and he ends up taking a piece of candy. Well, would one of those mini packets of M&M’s count as one piece of candy or multiple…

Whatever. He eats them and suddenly remembers again that he hasn't eaten since breakfast with a sigh. Poor planning on his part.

He tucks the empty wrapper into his pocket and sits in one of the chairs, closing his eyes. He’ll figure out whatever’s going on later--this is more than he asked for, but sixty dollars for dressing up isn't something he can pass up. At least, not since he’s neck-deep now.

Andrew very nearly falls asleep when there’s suddenly a knock at the door.

He just hopes whoever it is will pass by. Or be someone who doesn't care. Either way.

Nope. The door opens.

A thin, tallish man comes in holding a flashlight, and Andrew notices his shirt is striped and there’s a chain around his neck.

Does he work here or something?

He still hasn't noticed Andrew, and Andrew would rather keep it that way. He watches silently as the man sets down his flashlight and starts to rummage around in the toolbelt he’s wearing.

Oh.

Is he the person Fiona said Patricia called to fix the lights? It seems the case, especially since he’s… working with… what’s probably the lights.

He says a bunch of stuff Andrew doesn't understand, all wires and circuits and whatever. At least someone knows how to do it, because he certainly doesn't.

And the lights flicker on again.

That took almost no time! How good is this guy--

Andrew closes his eyes the second the man turns around.

“Oh, hello! I didn't see you there!” he says, and Andrew stops breathing.

Can he please be ignored? Can he PLEASE be ignored? Can this person just pick up his flashlight and get out?

“...Oh? Is it a prop?” he asks, and Andrew hopes the end is nearer than the man as the footsteps sound like they're coming closer. ”I didn’t know Mister Desaulniers had decor this intricate. He usually prefers to let random people work as humanoids, anyways.”

A beat of silence.

Is he leaving? Please be leaving.

“Heyyy, frumosule,” he hums, tone shifting into something much more playful, and he even laughs and--

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Andrew sputters, smacking away the hand that tries to tuck his hair behind his ear.

“HUH?!” the other man yelps, face flushing as he yanks his hand back and backpedals until his back is against the opposite wall. “You’re not--”

“Of course I’m real!” Andrew spits. “Don’t touch my face!”

“I am SO sorry, sir--”

“You should be!” Andrew scoffs, moving his hair back to how it originally fell. “Who even are you?!”

The man, a bit red in the face, dusts himself off and extends a hand. “Luca Balsa, at your service. I was called to fix the lights; I in no way meant to impede on you. Allow me to apologize.”

“...Fine. I’m not touching your hand, though.”

“That’s fine!” Luca glances down to mess with one of the compartments of his toolbelt, and spares another glance towards Andrew. “Are we allowed to take the candy from the bowls?”

“If we aren't, why is it there?”

To prove his point, Andrew grabs another candy and eats it right in front of Luca, who smiles awkwardly. “You gonna take one?”

“I suppose,” Luca says, and moves a few pieces of candy around before taking something small.

Andrew, on the other hand, picks out a handful and attempts to fit it into the odd pockets of his outfit. Before Luca can comment, he mutters, “No one else is here to eat it.”

“...I suppose,” Luca says again, but only takes one more. “Do you work here?”

“Only for tonight. If you’re gonna ask me about how to get around, don’t. I holed myself up in here to get away from all the idiots outside. The guy dressed up like the clown thought it’d be funny to try and scare me, so I left.”

“Ah, I’ll just text Patricia and ask her if she can come get us, then. Do you know her?”

“I saw her once.”

“That’s a bit vague, don't you think?”

“Answers your question, no?”

Luca sighs, and Andrew looks over to gauge how frustrated he is to find him smiling. “I guess. By the way, what do you go by? I forgot to ask earlier.”

“Ugh. It’d be weird to ask me my name before knowing I was a real person,” Andrew huffs. “But Andrew.”

“Alright, Andrew, Patricia should be here soon!”

“Okay.” Andrew says, then lapses into silence for a bit.

He doesn't see the problem, but Luca seems to be getting nervous. Does he not like silence or something?

“Um,” Luca says, and Andrew interrupts him.

“If you don’t wanna stand here and not say anything, we can play that one game or whatever. Twenty questions or whatever.”

“I didn't mean to--it won't take that much time for Patricia--”

“Question one: what is, ‘hey frumosule’?”

Luca stares at Andrew for a moment, almost incredulous, before he sighs. “Just... something in Romanian?”

Noting Andrew’s expression, he adds, “to keep up the trend of vagueness you started. Now, what are you dressed up as?”

“A ghost or something. I don't know. What are you?”

“A prisoner, in short. With a toolbelt, I suppose. I was actually going to dress up much more nicely, but this ended up being a much easier option, plus my eye looks like a black eye so I could pass it off as something from a brawl. What’s your favorite candy?”

“I don't care,” Andrew sighs. “I… never mind.”

“Hello? Luca?” a voice calls, and Patricia appears in the doorway. “Come--Andrew?”

“We were playing Twenty Questions!” Luca waves it off. “I didn't mean to worry you, it’s just that I’d have quite a lot of trouble finding my way back in the dark, and I don't think I’ll be able to do much more walking today.”

“Understandable,” Patricia murmurs, and checks her phone. “It’s a quarter until twelve right now. The lighting ended the house’s run for today, so Joseph’s paying everyone now. I’m sure he’ll pay you as well.”

Had Andrew fallen asleep in the room at some point? That’s much more time passed than he thought.

...Not that he’s complaining.

“I don't need any sort of compensation--”

“Joseph always gets a ton of money from this. I wouldn't pass up such easy pay,” Patricia warns.

Luca says nothing for a moment, as if conflicted. “...No, I’ll be alright. It was a favor to you, anyways. So thank you.”

“Suit yourself,” Patricia shrugs, pulling her phone out and starting to text. “But, like, no problem either. Let’s get going--you too, Andrew.”

“I wasn't planning on staying,” Andrew argues, but his complaint is ignored and he’s left to follow the two.

What kind of person passes up payment like that?! He’s not going to say anything, obviously, but it’s really totally ridiculous.

They arrive back in the lobby, and the workers are all crowded around the table Joseph is at--and arguing with the Queen of Hearts at.

The Queen sighs loudly and waves her large knife in the air haphazardly. “Do you seriously not remember me having this?!”

“No, not at all,” Joseph replies, tone pinched as he stares up at the weapon. “Neither do I remember Michiko having one.”

“Are you growing so old your memory’s slipping?!” the Queen snaps, turning her back to Joseph.

Luca says something, and Andrew doesn't catch it, but he sounds annoyed.

Joseph throws his hands in the air. “Mary, I’ve been unable to visit these past few months. I commented only because I didn't want you… armed… in the DARK, no less.”

“My, my! Do you really not trust me?! Both me and Michiko put our knives away when it went dark, didn't we!”

The lady with the fan looks up at the ceiling. “I would like to clarify I never took out my knife at all.

“I believe you,” Joseph sighs. “Please, just leave me to pay my employees, Mary.”

Mary sighs. “Hmph. Make sure to join me and Michiko at that party I mentioned when this is all over.”

“No, I’ll be going home. I’m tired.”

“I want to leave as well,” Aesop volunteers, and takes off his cat ears as Mary sighs dramatically. “You and Miss Michiko can enjoy the party.”

“Sure, sure! You all tire out so easily! My darling and I will be gone now!”

With a flourish of her red and black gown, Mary turns and walks off, the sound of heels clicking against the floor audible as Michiko follows.

Joseph watches them go, then fixes one of the leather wings of his cape with a shake of his head. “Thank you all for coming. Each of you get eighty dollars instead of sixty for being patient with the… technical difficulties.”

Fiona appears by Joseph, smiling. “I’ll take my payment first, Mister Desaulniers.”

Joseph turns to look at Fiona, and he groans. “I never employed you. Why are you here, Miss Gilman?”

“I wanted to spend my lovely brother's birthday with him. And spend time with my girlfriend, OBVIOUSLY. And I had to bring Andrew here. I think I deserve payment, I really do!”

Joseph stares up at Fiona for a good thirty seconds before he seems to give up, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Mister Grantz will help you with your payment. The same goes for the rest of you. Please change back into your normal clothes and leave the costumes here. Thank you for your work today, everyone.”

The rest of the people go to the counter as well, following Fiona. Conversation sparks back up, and Andrew almost goes to join the line before Joseph speaks again.

“Mister Balsa, if you would please come here.”

“Certainly!” Luca chimes, and Andrew ends up following Luca. When he’s close enough, Andrew sets his hand on the table and finds the wood is surprisingly bumpy.

“How much does the repair you did cost? I’d very much like to repay you in full, if you’re alright with that.”

Joseph’s voice now is much more relaxed than the one he used to speak to the group. Andrew thinks it doesn't fit him, especially with such an attention-demanding getup.

“Oh, it was a favor for a friend! Please, Mister Desaulniers, I don't need any payment, believe me on this.” Luca messes with the material of his glove as he smiles and shakes his head.

Joseph is quiet for a moment. “...Really? Well, then, thank you again. If there’s something I can do to help you in the future, please do let me know. Otherwise, have a nice night.”

“You too,” Luca replies. “Thank you very much; I’ll get going.”

Joseph smiles and walks off, leaving Luca and Andrew at the bumpy wooden table. Andrew stops pressing his fingernails in the divots and steps back. “I’m gonna go get my money and get out of here. Night.”

“Could you wait a moment?” Luca asks.

Andrew glances over his shoulder at the line, then back at Luca--well, is gloves, not his face. “Maybe.”

“Would you care to keep in touch--”

“Not really.”

Luca laughs nervously before he speaks again. “My bad for asking. I was at least hoping to make a better impression than the one I made today--I promise I didn't mean to bother you; I really thought you were a mannequin!”

“...Do you actually want to talk to me
or something? You don't have to freak out over your reputation or anything, I don't care.” Andrew feels a little frustrated. Cool, someone wants to prove they're not a jerk. Okay? And? Not like he’s going to become their best friend.

“Yes, actually.”

HUH?

Luca continues. “It’s not just something to make me feel better, really. I’d like to get to know you more, Andrew.”

Andrew raises his eyebrows. “You’ll regret it, but whatever. I’ll tell you my phone number and you can text me… I guess.”

“Really?” Luca blinks, probably surprised by how easily Andrew’s given in.

This is what having almost no friends does to someone, isn’t it… ugh…

“Yes. I don’t wanna say it twenty times.”

Andrew gives Luca his number, and Luca puts his phone back in his toolbelt with a smile. “Thank you! Perhaps I’ll see you again elsewhere, hm?”

“...Maybe?” Andrew looks away with a huff. “Go ask Fiona or her brother or something. They’re the ones who can tell fortunes and stuff.”

“Aha, I was just asking playfully! Don’t worry! But it is late. We should get going, don't you think?”

“Sure. See ya later, I guess,” Andrew says, wishing he had better social skills for the… whatever-th time.

Luca smiles and heads off, leaving Andrew to go get his payment from Victor.

But… the guy with the clown makeup is at the counter…

Forget it.

Andrew walks up to the counter, eyes fixed on the floor. Victor seems to understand, however, and starts to mess with some of the money in the box.

“Huh? You again?”

Andrew, definitely done with being polite for the night, glares up. “Yeah? What’s the deal?”

The clown raises his hands in the air. “I was just gonna apologize! It was dark--no way was I gonna spook you if I realized you were actually so freaked out, I swear.”

“...Well, thanks.”

He looks like he wants to say something, probably about Andrew’s tone, but he just nods in the end. “Just wanted to give you closure. Have a nice night, okay?”

Andrew crams the money Victor gives him into his pockets along with the candy.

“Thanks,” he says, but doesn't clarify who he’s talking to before he heads off to the room with all the costumes in it.

Right as he reaches to pull the door open, Fiona yanks it open in the opposite direction.

So it’s a push door.

“Hey! Did Mike apologize?!”

“Yeah.”

Patricia is behind Fiona, still wearing makeup but now donning street clothes.

“That’s good, that’s good! Patricia texted me and said you--ooooh, you met Luca! He’s super nice, don't you think? He even--wait, wait, we’re in the doorway! Get in your normal clothes and we can talk on the way back! Patty’s coming with, too--she walked here, but we’re grabbing something to eat before Patty and I head home.”

“We’re actually getting food?” Andrew asks, but Fiona’s already whisked away, Patricia with her.

Apparently.

Well, he’s going to hurry, then. He’s still plenty hungry.

When he steps inside, he realizes multiple curtains have been put up and that the table is devoid of makeup and instead covered in random personal belongings.

He decides not to put anything on the table himself and instead changes hurriedly behind an empty curtain, enjoying the fact his larger pockets can fit the candy and money much more nicely and--

Are those his contacts in his pocket?

REALLY? NOW?

Andrew pops in his contacts, too annoyed to really care about the slight burning in his left eye. It always goes away when the contact actually falls in place.

...Well, he can see now.

Looking in the mirror, he realizes his makeup is… actually freakishly good. Aesop’s really good with makeup--do they do it really often?

After a few more moments of admiring his reflection despite being made to look grotesque, Andrew glances at the costume on the floor.

Geez, it’s fancy.

A shame he doesn't care about it anymore!

He stuffs it into the bag and tosses it into the pile of multiple other bags before leaving the room.

Absently, Andrew pulls out his phone and stands outside the room. He should turn airplane mode off to text Fiona he’s ready, right? Yeah.

As soon as he switches it off, his phone blows up with texts.

Oh. Yeah. Everything loads at once when he does that. Time to ignore all the buzzing, then!

It’s a little lonely, but nothing he’s not used to.

He goes to send Fiona a message when he notices something from an unknown number.

‘Happy Halloween! -Luca’

That’s… really nice of him, isn’t it...

He sends a message back, for lack of a better idea of what to do.

‘U too’

Kind of lackluster on Andrew’s behalf. He’ll label the contact as Luca later.

Now, to text Fiona.

...And brace himself for who knows how much more of that music she loves to play in the car.