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A light flicked on and off above Håvard’s head, and he sucked in a breath through his teeth as he looked at the clock on his phone. There was no way he'd been sitting here for that long... right?
"Didn't I tell you to get out?" Anja stood in the doorway with a hand on her hip.
"Psh, that was like... 3 hours ago." Håvard's voice had a hint of sheepishness in it, and he hoped she couldn't hear it from all the way across the room.
"Demands don't have an expiration date," She huffed, "Your phone can't be so interesting that you've really been sitting in here for 3 hours."
He pointed his phone screen in her direction, "I've been going over costumes! I want to wear something that will be good for the halloween party but also that my followers will like."
"What are your options?"
"Oh! You really want to help me?"
"Not particularly. I was going to suggest werewolf no matter what you said," Anja said with a grin.
"Don't you think that's a bit basic? Here, look," He glanced around to the front of his phone, scrolling, "Someone suggested this really cool--"
"Håvard, listen. Werewolves are classic, which is good for the party. But they can also be hunky," She had to put in extra effort to not roll her eyes as she spoke, "which is good for your social media."
A finger to his lip, he slowly turned the phone back to him. "You know... you're right!"
"I do know." She smiled. "Now get out."
Håvard’s gaze traveled from the person he was talking with to across the room, spotting Jaimini as she entered. “I’ll be right back.” His eyes twinkled thanks to the soft overhead light, and likely the warm buzz in his chest as well. He felt rather at peace, and as he headed over to the woman he could barely hang onto his thoughts, feeling them slip away as the alcohol in his system settled just a bit more.
“Hey, boss.” He said once he was close enough, and she glanced over her shoulder at him.
“Håvard,” She looked him up and down, “Werewolf, hm? No reference to anything?”
He clicked his tongue, “Nnnope, no reference, just a werewolf.”
“I know you’re more creative than that.”
He felt his alcohol-heated cheeks warm even more with embarrassment. “Hey, come on, wouldn’t you rather I prioritize work over a silly costume?”
Jaimini smirked, biting back a comment about his typical uniform of choice. “Anja benefits from indulging in her creative side. I think you could too.”
Håvard pouted slightly. He wasn’t entirely sold on the idea that her designs were so good because they were pretty, but it’s not like anyone would believe him if he said that he didn’t like the idea of pulling a concept from a design.
"Let me guess, it would take too long for your liking?"
He chuckled, "You know me well, boss."
Footsteps approached from behind, and the shift in Jaimini's expression told Håvard exactly who it was even before she spoke.
"I didn't know you had such a weird looking pet." Anja's voice was cool and calm, just as usual. Håvard half expected her to pet his hair to add insult to injury, but the look on her face as her gaze moved up told him he put too much gel in his hair for that.
"Weird looking pet?" Håvard parroted as he turned to look at the Croatian woman, "Weird looking pet? I’m just talking to her! Plus, you're the one who told me to go with werewolf!"
“You're just so predictable,” Anja scoffed, “I would have suggested a better costume if you weren't.”
“You had that joke planned out from the beginning?!” Håvard flushed deep red. “And to say I’m predictable as if you are not dressed as the Empress…”
“I’m not the Empress. I’m Anja.”
"I'm talking about your costume," Håvard said dryly.
"As I said, I'm Anja." She ran her hand under her shoulder-length hair. "You still haven't convinced me you were talking about nerds."
"I'm not— It's— You have a red wig, and your name is Anja!" He knew he was being baited, but damn it if he wasn't going to still try to defend himself.
"Easy, boy, easy," Jaimini broke her silence to tut.
Håvard donned eyes so defeated he could surely be mistaken for an actual kicked puppy, "Not you too..."
"Poor little Fido. Why don't you go get another drink from the punch bowl? I just saw it get refilled."
Having forgotten what he originally came over to say and lacking the heart to continue being dragged through the mud, Håvard just bowed his head and walked away. He weaved through the crowd, but did eventually find himself at the refreshments tables.
"You look rather defeated." Lera almost looked to be guarding the table, like some sort of bartender ready to cut off anyone who clearly had too much to drink. She must've deemed he was OK, as she didn't stop him even when he filled his cup up a little too much. She shook her head when he picked up another cup and tilted the mouth of it in her direction, "None for me, thank you."
"Your call." He downed a good percentage of his own cup, then glanced at her again. "Do you know who Anja is supposed to be?"
"You thought she was the Empress of the Plutomatons, didn't you?" Lera giggled.
"Of course. Who else would she be?"
"Her character is a bit newer, and more local. Not very popular, but similar in character to the Empress."
"Newer? Let me guess, still from media that's over 40 years old."
"...38." She smiled. "The character's name is Anja. I'm sure you can guess that she likes her a lot, too, or at least did in the past. Interesting that she also has red hair, isn't it?"
"Uh, yeah." Håvard ran a hand through his hair, and took another sip from his cup to find it was the last. His mind couldn't help but wander to his younger years, the time spent behind closed doors, being a bit nerdier than he'd ever admit. He reached for the ladle again, and found Lera's hand on his.
"I think that's enough for now; let that sit for half an hour, then see how you feel."
He groaned, but retracted his hand.
Lera glanced around the room. “Maybe you should go find Ngũgĩ. I’m sure he’d enjoy your company. His costume is pretty cute, too; I keep asking everyone who comes by if they’ve seen it.”
“What is it?” The Norwegian tilted his head, then immediately straightened it once he realized it wasn’t helping dispel Anja’s quip. He internally groaned.
“You’ll just have to see it for yourself.” She stood on her tip toes, dropping back to her heels after a moment and shaking her head, “He must be sitting somewhere or outside, I can’t see him.”
“Is it that distinct? I can barely see anything in here.”
“You’ve also had alcohol, while I’ve had none. But yes, his costume is very recognizable, I don’t think you’re so gone that you won’t be able to see him.”
“Alright.” Håvard tossed his cup in the trash. “I’m going to go find him.”
"Take it easy, Håvard," Lera's tone was a mix of concerned and demanding, "You of all people should know the importance of not drinking too much."
He hung his head for a moment, sighing, "Yeah. Thanks, Lera, see you around."
"Hopefully not too soon."
Håvard wandered through the crowds of people, eventually finding himself outside. He walked aimlessly for a while, unsure if he had just missed Ngũgĩ or if he actually hadn't seen him yet, but eventually something caught his eye through a window. A silhouette inside the building, sitting against the window but engulfed in shadow. He squinted at the odd shape: while there was really nothing too out of the ordinary with it— they looked like a regular person for the most part— two lines protruding from the top of their head gave him an inkling that it was who he was looking for.
Finding his way back to the window once he got back inside proved a bigger challenge than he expected it to, but he chalked it up to the growing mental fogginess and stuck to the walls after realizing he was pretty sure he had walked in a circle and made no progress.
He saw the antennae first, and giggled at the sight. He burst into a full on laugh upon seeing Ngũgĩ's full costume— or rather, lack thereof.
He was in what could be considered casual wear, the only thing that placed him at a party aside from the copious amounts of inebriated people around him was the headband on his head: green and decorated with two pipe cleaners that were balled up at the ends. He wasn't even wearing a green fullbody suit to match, nor so much as a green shirt, instead sporting a shiny dark blue long sleeved tee. He looked up at the Norwegian,
"You took Anja's suggestion?"
"She told you?" He put his forehead in his palm, "I got played so hard."
"Did you really?" He smiled softly, "Nobody else knows about the joke outside of you, her, and Jaimini. Well, and me, of course."
"Oh, and I'm sure Charlie, and Monika, and Apha, and Elżbieta—"
"You just listed four people who do not care." Ngũgĩ was still smiling, despite his bluntness.
"I guess."
He must've been staring, and Ngũgĩ must have noticed, because he piped up again after a moment,
"I'm going to the water in a few minutes. It's very overstimulating in here."
"Swimming? At this hour?" Håvard rose an eyebrow.
"I like the way water can just wash everything away."
Håvard stared blankly for a moment, then simply shrugged. It didn't really matter, and it made him happy, so it especially didn't really matter that it was a bit odd. He looked around, then back at Ngũgĩ,
"By the way, Lera likes your... costume."
"Oh," Ngũgĩ reached around to the back of his head, pulling off another headbang Håvard hadn't noticed until it was already off his head, "This one's for her." It looked exactly like hers, but yellow.
"This matches her color scheme more than yours does your own!"
Ngũgĩ just smiled again.