TW: a little cussing, mention of cancer, mention of heart attack, mention of death, mention of panic attacks, mention of student loans (hey they freak me out)

……………………….

Rosie shifted her shoulders uncomfortably under the weight of her full backpack as she waited in the long line to enter the 10th Street Station portal to Hell. People of various species chatted around her incessantly, and the buzz of random conversations was making her feel a little overwhelmed. There was a reason she had gotten interested in library work – well, there were many reasons, but the peacefulness of libraries was one of them. Not that all libraries were peaceful all the time. Some library programs could get downright boisterous. Rosie closed her eyes for a moment and envisioned the arts and crafts program she had helped manage when she did her internship at the public library. Thirty kids under the age of 12, and their parents, all making goopy slime out of glue, water, baking soda, food coloring, contact lens solution, shaving cream, and way too much glitter. It was a happy noise, not overwhelming at all, just exciting. She tried to pretend that the noise around her in the station was a happy noise, too, and she opened her eyes.

It worked for a few minutes, then she was anxious again, shifting on her feet and fidgeting with her phone. The station had been a drugstore, but then about 10 years ago, the Hellmouths opened, and the government swooped in. Everything was quarantined and hush-hush for several months, and then the circus began. Rosie had been in high school, and she remembered everyone freaking out, but she couldn’t really put it into context until recently. It had literally changed the world.

Her phone vibrated in her hands and she started just enough for it to jump out of her grasp. It tumbled in the air and she grabbed for it, missing it once and catching it miraculously before it hit the ground. Nearby bored spectators cheered. Rosie’s face went red as she fumbled to answer the call.

“Hi Ray,” she said, turning her back on the people laughing at her.

“Rosie! Where are you? Did you see the episode last night?”

“Ah, no,” she answered. She had tried to watch the newest episode of their favorite reality show, but she’d been too anxious about the trip, so she zoned out and eventually turned it off to go over her notes again. “I need to catch up,” she said.

“Oh you really missed it, Ro, it was wild! You gotta watch it today and call me back!” Ray said.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to,” she said. “I’m going to Hell.”

“The fuck did you say to me?” Ray said, his voice rising.

Rosie laughed. “I said I’m going to Hell, Ray.”

“Wait, what? Really? Why???”

“Um…” she hesitated. She hadn’t told anyone about the job except her mom. The phone interview had gone well, and they wanted to see her in person. The library was paying for the whole trip, even meals. The HR person had said that the visit was necessary to see if she would be able to acclimate to the working environment. Whatever that might mean. Rosie tried not to think about it.

“Don’t post anything or tell anybody,” she said, knowing Ray’s tendency to blab, “but I’m interviewing. For a job.”

“Whaaaaat?” Ray squealed. “What sort of jobs do they have in Hell?”

“Librarian?” she responded.

“For real?”

“Yeah.”

“Well shit,” Ray said. “That’s great, I guess! If it’s really what you want, you should go for it!”

Rosie bit her lip.

“It is what you want, right?” Ray asked.

“It pays really well,” she told him. “Like, really really well.”

“Ah,” Ray sighed. “Right. The power of student debt compels you.”

“Yep,” she said with a sigh of her own.

“I am going to have SO MANY questions for you when you get back,” Ray said excitedly. “Oh! Bring me back a souvenir! Something super weird!”

Rosie couldn’t help but laugh. He was such a little kid sometimes; it was hard to believe he was 8 months older than she was. Ray had been her best friend since grade school. She’d been there for him when he came out in middle school, and he’d been there for her when her panic attacks got bad in high school. They had been there for each other when Ray’s dad died suddenly from a heart attack and Rosie’s mom got diagnosed with stomach cancer in the same month. She trusted him more than anyone else, more than her mom even, but she still hadn’t told him how bad the bills really were. She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t – she meant to, but every time she was about to bring it up she just… didn’t.

“I’ll find you the trashiest trinket in the land,” she promised him.

“Wait how long are you going to be gone?” he asked, realizing suddenly.

“Just 3 days,” she said. “One day of travel and introductions, a day at the library and interviewing, and then they said I could have a day to sightsee on their dime.”

“Dude that’s fucking cool! I’m so jealous!” Ray whined.

“Haha, I know right?” Rosie said, smiling.

“Okay, I gotta go for now, but call me AS SOON as you get back, Rosemund! And be SUPER careful!”

“Yes, Raphael,” she said sweetly.

“Byeee!”

“Bye!”

She smiled at the caller profile picture of Ray on her phone. Sunglasses on, tongue out, crazy neon color filter. He always could cheer her up when she needed it. She needed it a lot. It was tempting to lean too hard on his good nature, so she was careful to not take advantage.

Rosie took a deep breath and focused on the real world around her once more. Her head felt clearer. She could take the noise and the press of the crowd better now. Glancing around at the other people in line with her, she tried hard not to stare at the ones that were returning home to Hell. There was one woman that stood a full head higher than the tallest person nearby. Her skin was a vibrant shade of lavender, and two gracefully curved black horns swooped up from her forehead, contrasting beautifully with her pale blonde hair. Her wings were tucked neatly at her back, but Rosie could just make out a wickedly sharp black claw at the top of each one.

She was laughing and chatting with a shorter man, his big bald head a mass of symmetrical green and black splotches that made Rosie think of a Rorschach test. She tried hard not to see any patterns in it, but she saw a butterfly anyway and suppressed a giggle. He didn’t have horns or wings, and when he turned around briefly, she saw his eyes were bright gold – no white sclera, no iris, just solid, shining gold. Rosie aimed her eyes down at her phone and didn’t look up for a while. She didn’t want to feel intimidated, they were just people, after all, but the eye thing would take some getting used to.

The line moved slowly, but it did move, and within an hour Rosie approached the first gateway. She already had her ticket ready, and her passport. The photo was old – her hair was a lot longer now, and she had put on a little weight, but it was still valid and that’s all that mattered. She had torn apart her whole closet to find it, before realizing she had left it with her mom to keep in her fire safe with some other important documents.

The drug-store-turned-Hellmouth had come with a pharmacy counter, which was repurposed into the first gate. It still vaguely resembled a pharmacy counter, but only vaguely. There were a lot more security devices now, and bulletproof glass. The woman behind the counter was human, and her grim face made Rosie react instinctively as she did to anyone that glared at her unhappily. She plastered on her brightest customer service smile.

“Good morning!” she chirped, approaching the window. The woman barely acknowledged her, but that only increased the wattage on Rosie’s smile. Yes, she thought, your indifference only fuels me.

“Ticket and ID,” the woman intoned. Rosie slid the documents through a small slit in the base of the window. The woman glanced at them and typed on her keyboard.

“How are you today?” Rosie piped.

The woman looked at her.

“What is the purpose of your trip?” she said, unimpressed.

“Oh,” Rosie said, letting the rudeness slide by cheerfully, “I’m interviewing for a job.”

The woman eyed her skeptically.

“Where will you be staying?”

Rosie glanced at her phone – she had the email pulled up, she knew she’d never remember what the place was called.

“The Cainella House, in Brulla,” she said. “Do you need the whole address?”

The woman’s attitude shifted slightly, her back straightening just a bit.

“No ma’am,” she said. “How long will you be staying?”

Rosie blinked, trying to brush off the subtle change.

“I’ll be coming back Thursday night,” she said.

“And do you have anything to declare? Meats, fruits, live animals, dead animals, religious documents, breakfast cereals, flammable liquids, electronics?”

Rosie’s smile faltered.

“Breakfast cereal?” she asked. Then before the woman could speak again, she hurriedly said “Oh, no, nothing like that, just some clothes and toiletries. And I guess my cell phone?”

The woman hesitated. “You can keep your cell phone, just keep it safe. You won’t have any signal, though.”

“Oh, Rosie said, “okay, thank you.”

The woman typed rapidly on her keyboard again, and then stamped Rosie’s ticket and passport, sliding them back under the window. Then she slid a pamphlet to her and pointed at a small pad on the counter.

“Sign there to acknowledge that you have received this instructional information,” the woman said.

Rosie looked at the glossy trifold. It was entitled “Your Safety Comes First: Getting by in Hell.”

Rosie signed the pad.

“I recommend you read that, ma’am,” the woman said, showing a hint of personality.

Rosie smiled and nodded, clasping it in her hand with her passport and ticket.

“Have a nice trip, ma’am,” the woman said, then yelled “NEXT!”

Rosie hustled along.

Breakfast cereal?