It must be 10:00 P.M. but that means little to my body. I lay awake staring at the darkness hovering over me like a compassionate ghost, watching me sleep. 

I should make some warm milk or something…

Honestly, I just want a brownie. Something on my tongue to blind me to the voices in my head - 

It’s a bad habit, I know. But I also know today’s not the day I’m going to fix it.

I ooze down the stairs, more a part of the shadows slipping across the wall than a terrestrial being - even as faces echo on my insides like I’m a fragile, hollow vessel-

Just don’t think.

It was a bad time for a conversation like that. I should have waited until morning - 

But I always just regret my decisions rather than making better ones, I acknowledge ironically, as my bare feet freeze on the kitchen floor.

“I’d lose weight if I were worse at cooking,” I mutter under my breath, yanking open the fridge with unnecessary violence.

But I can blame Tia Maria for that.

And thank Daddy’s genes for a fast metabolism and this frame that spreads my extra pounds throughout it evenly like melted butter. 

I am slowly but surely getting ‘softer.’

And sometime soon I should probably start being more active again, though there was never a point when I could be convinced to frequent a gym no matter how often Kattar suggested it.

“I go walking,” I would argue, “Walking is exercise.”

But-

I…

Stop.

An antsy thought runs across my mind like rain clouds blowing in-

He’s still awake.

But I…shouldn’t…

I just got back from Kattar’s place, and it would be weird to ask now-

-at this time in our lives.

Maybe if today was 10 or 12 years ago, it would still be no big deal, but at this point…

I just want to watch a movie or something…

No I don’t.

I just want to get out of my thoughts - be anything but here - dreaming - or trying not to dream and remember - sitting in this empty house -

Afraid that my own memories will drown me in my sleep.

Taking a deep breath I text Kat, and try to figure out how to make this sound normal…

Maybe I should just tell the truth.

It’s a lost art.

But I don’t think so-

“Hey, I know this might sound kind of weird but I can’t sleep.”

-There’s an unusual pride that stops me - my fingers frozen on the cold screen.

I can’t say I’m scared. I’m 28. That’s ridiculous, and he couldn’t possibly understand…

“Do you mind if I come over? We could watch a movie or something?”

I watch his status symbol flip to ‘online’ and bite my lip anxiously.

He’ll probably say no, even if he does mind, and I know that.

So maybe I’m just selfish - but I don’t feel up to ignoring the face spreading itself on the walls of my mind like a horrific panorama - 

If I fall asleep now I’ll have nightmares, I just know it-

When his reply finally comes through, I can almost hear his hesitation. ‘Yes’ with a question mark.

“But let’s not stay up too late, okay? You should at least try to be home and in bed by midnight.”

“Alright,” I let myself sigh, glad he can’t hear me.

It’s no worse than I deserve when I refuse to explain-

But there are some kinds of pain you want to keep personal…especially…

-Especially when his mother has always been so much more perfect than mine.

Even with all the things I told him back in high school, I guess there’s a part of me that doesn’t want him to know just how ugly we are.

So shoving my phone into my back pocket, I suck it up and grab my keys, my faded trench coat, heading to the car in a watery black cloud.

The shadows from the bedroom follow me.

Every mile of the drive to his place, the night seems to grow blacker.

It probably literally is. 

Isn’t that science? Darkest before the dawn or something like that.

It feels weird to be riding the elevator this late at night - my mind is brought back to the award show - leaving that hotel we never actually spent the night in at a quarter to 8, wearing that blood-red dress.

It was already pitch black by the time we left for the venue because of the season.

The sun set while we were getting me ready for the ceremony.

In retrospect, it tastes like a warning. But retrospect doesn’t help anything.

Kattar’s door is already unlocked and open just a crack when I raise my hand to knock. Burning air leaks into the frigid hallway in a slow but steady stream.

“You can come in.” His voice says without emotion.

It’s the high heels.

- there’s no such thing as sneaking up on someone in pumps so until someone invents a silencer I can probably give up on knocking.

“Do you want me to leave your door cracked?” I ask a little awkwardly, taking my shoes off at the front door as Kat looks at me with a blank, exhausted expression.

“It’s fine.”

No it’s not.

I should say ‘never mind’ and go home.

But I let the selfishness push me a little further and sit down on the couch. Kattar watches all my motions in the same state of lethargy. 

“What did you want to watch?” He asks mildly, and I immediately redden, realizing I hadn't thought about that at all.

“Anything you want to watch is fine with me. How about one of your Steven Seagall movies? Those always put me to sleep anyway.” I manage a laugh, and he smiles a little despite his tiredness.

“Fine fine, we can watch one of my boy flicks. I have a whole bunch of them Ryan gave me that I haven’t watched yet. Pick whichever one interests you the least. They’re inside the coffee table.”

Opening the little door in that piece of furniture I pull out a long wicker basket full of DVDs and sort through the collection with one small finger, selecting “Above the Law '' at random.

“Let’s just go with this one,” I smile, holding out the DVD as I look back up, unintentionally catching Kattar’s gaze.

My cheeks flush.

He was staring again.

“You’ve not seen this one right?” I start to ask, but before I can finish he cuts me off, red up to his ears-

“I don’t really want to watch a movie, actually,” he says nervously, his eyes on the floor.

“Huh?”

“I-I’m not feeling…” he hesitates and though his head is still lowered, I see his color deepen “...up to it.”

“...And I think you should probably go home right now, and get some sleep.” 

All this he says without looking at me and my discomfort mounts to something akin to panic.

“If you didn’t want to watch a movie you should have told me so when I texted,” I smile hesitantly, not sure why. He glances up from under his hair and the look on his face is fretful - almost frightened.

“That’s not it, exactly,” he kind of laughs, but the sound is shaky.

“Okay, you’re worrying me,” I try to laugh, gripping the basket harder than I need to.

“My bad,” he shakes his head at the floor. “It came out wrong.”

He smiles reassuringly now, his eyes disappearing into those little lines on his face, like an arched bridge.

And that’s when I notice his fangs.

Oh, snap.

Of course, he would be a vampire. It only makes sense now. The pretty face, the long dark hair, and that blood-red dress.

Now the only question is how fast I can book it in pumps.

Bonus: Episode 50 Q&A!!!

Howdy! I hope you’re all as thrilled as I am about today. “Damsel in the Red Dress” has come a long way from the vague story concept I created on the fly at the end of November for the “True Love On Tapas” contest and I’m proud to announce that we’ve finally hit 50 episodes!

I never thought the story would get this far because, between the panic of writing the first book in such a short amount of time and my lack of opportunity to plan out plot points ahead of time, I had no idea how I’d even hit the mandatory chapter quota, but the more I wrote, the more this colorful (literally, mostly POC) cast fleshed themselves out, and more plot just kept self-inserting itself into my mind. It’s been a lot of fun.

So to celebrate this milestone I’m doing a special Q&A answering some questions I got from readers (most of whom were my siblings XD) 

Character Q&A

Question: What are everybody's favorite foods?

Alicia: Tea.

Kattar: M’kay…that’s not really a food. But I’m a pretty big fan of samosas and palak paneer.

Alicia: Well, if we have to pick real foods then I really like beans and rice with fried plantains. Basically, anything that includes fried plantains, actually, or the word 'fried.' 

Mrs. Moon: Narrowing down one food is too harsh, darling. There’s too much. I’m very fond of quality cheeses though. My personal favorites are White Stilton and Beaumont cheese. Just not American cheese, goodness. I can’t believe it’s even called cheese.

Andrew: Sandwiches. All sandwiches really, but especially Cubans and burgers. Jinho made this really awesome burger from scratch for my birthday last year that had fried plantains, and pickled onions, and fried cheese, and barbecue sauce made from bananas-

Jinho: -so help me, Andrew, we will be here literally all day if you name every ingredient that was included in that sandwich. Now personally, I like kimchi-jigae, but I haven’t had it since I moved to Mexico. Fish tacos are pretty good too, and despite it sounding like a stereotype, tacos really ARE a big thing here.

Melissa: Give me a toasted blueberry bagel any day, honey. I could eat my weight in those things though that’s not much given my height, you know - it might be a little more than it oughta be just between the two of us - I’ve almost eaten my weight in cream cheese! A good bagel is equal parts bagel and cream cheese. It just isn’t right to have a skimpy layer of cream cheese on those things. They need the zing to cut through the density - oh my goish, I just defined my whole existence. If I didn’t have a personality I wouldn’t get anywhere with this sorry excuse for a brain that I’ve got...

Shannon: Burgers, pizza…my mother makes great cachapas as well, though my sisters don’t care for them. She always makes me some when I visit for the holidays.

Emelia: A chicken sandwich. Which I should be on my way to getting right now.

Question: What is everyone’s favorite color?

Alicia: Red

Kattar: Pink

Mrs. Moon: Eggplant 

Andrew: I mean, it’s hard to pick just one, but I guess blue.

Jinho: Black

Melissa: Lilac. It’s just the dolliest color on planet Earth, isn’t it? Everything you paint lilac ends up looking so sweet. I painted my bedroom lilac and all of my linen is the exact same color. Believe me, that was no easy feat, and my hubs, love him to death, was convinced it was a waste of time when we’re just going to sleep in them, but the way you go to sleep matters. You can’t convince me otherwise.

Shannon: Green

Emelia: Green

Question: What’s everybody’s height?

Alicia: 4’9

Kattar: Almost 6’0 (but actually 5’9)

Mrs. Moon: 5’7

Andrew: 5’8

Jinho: *after a very long sigh* 170 centimeters

Melissa: 4’7. It used to drive me CRAZY when I was in high school and college because everyone always assumed I was a grade-schooler. I got stopped everywhere and told I shouldn’t wander. It’s just my mother's genes. Cursed to be a short jew and a Mexican father doesn’t balance it out an awful lot. It’s not like my dad was Shaq if you get me.

Shannon: 6’3

Emelia: 6'5, if you must know. And yes, it's the biggest bother ever invented.

Question: Ages?

Alicia: 28

Kattar: 28, but I'll be 29 in a few days.

Mrs. Moon: *silence, looking at her nails*

Andrew: 24

Jinho: 24.

Melissa: 35. But apparently it doesn’t show! Whenever I go places with my son they assume I’m his shorter older sister - and that’s a great time at hospitals or when I have to sign him up for literally anything! He’s 13 at that!

Shannon: 27

Emelia: Too old for this foolishness

*

That’s it for now, but if you have any more questions about the characters, the meaning behind the chapter titles, or anything else, please do leave them in the comments, because I’d love to do another Q&A. 

*

If you got this far. Of course, Kattar had to be a vampire. It was so painfully obvious. The cover looks like blood. He has long dark hair and is super attractive. He only liked Alicia because she was wearing a blood-red dress. I mean why else would HE put her in a dress the color of blood?

I’m kidding. 

April Fools!