A/N: DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything recognizable from FRIGHT NIGHT. Only the plot belongs to me.

Chapter 1

"I am so glad we have finally moved out, Piper," I say to my best friend of 11 years.

"I know," she grins. "And we have this cute little apartment, we've finished college, life is great."

"Yeah, but now we have to find jobs," I sigh.

"Don't be a downer, Alissa," Piper laughs. "We'll get jobs. You just got a Master's in journalism in 4 years, I think you'll be safe."

I smile, "I guess so. I'll get us a newspaper tomorrow."

"Okay, but I don't think I'll find any art jobs in the paper," Piper says.

"No, but you might find galleries," I tell her.

She just shrugs.

I roll my eyes, "Let's go start moving in our stuff."

"I don't want to," Piper groans.

"Too bad. You are the one who decided to bring her closet," I say.

"Oh, because you didn't," Piper rolls her eyes.

I just look at her, "Come on. Let's go."

It was about our fifth time going up and down the stairs, when the apartment door across from ours opened.

It was the first sign of life we had seen all day.

We weren't expecting who came out of the apartment, though.

It was a very hot guy. Piper looked at him and giggled.

"Hello," he spoke. His voice was smooth and deep. He was so handsome.

"Hi," Piper giggled.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm Alissa. This is my friend Piper. We just moved into apartment 4b.

"Good to know. I'm 4a," he smiles. "Do you girls need any help?"

"Oh, no, that's fine. I think we've got it," I smile.

"Alissa, don't be silly. We could use the help. We still have several boxes. The heavy ones, too! I'm sure a nice strong man like…, I don't know your name!" Piper realizes.

"Jerry," he smiles. "I'll help. It will save you ladies some time."

With Jerry helping, we got done in half the time. After he was done helping us, Jerry disappeared.

"Weird," I muttered.

"Who cares? He's hot," Piper grins.

I roll my eyes, "You need to keep your hormones in check. You're drooling like a dog."

"I am not a dog," she frowns.

I sigh and shake my head.

It was about 4 ours after we got here, and we hadn't even made a dent in everything we had to unpack.

"I'm bored. Let's do something," Piper complains coming into my room.

"Like what?" I ask her.

"I don't know," she sighs. "Anything."

"Let's go to a casino," I suggest.

"Okay," she says getting excited. "I can't wait. I want to gamble."

"Of course you do," I laugh.

"You can't tell me you wanted to move to Vegas to NOT gamble," Piper says.

"We moved because my cousin Charlie and Aunt Jane live out here," I say. "She got us a good deal on an apartment."

"No offense, but your aunt is a little weird," Piper laughs. "She told me not to invite anyone in our apartment."

"There are a lot of creepy people in Vegas. She's just trying to look out for us," I tell her.

"Well, we're going to have to invite people in here sometime," Piper says. "We will make friends, hopefully meet some nice guys, like the one who lives across from us. I call dibs."

"He's a little too old for me. You can have him," I tell her.

"'Age is but a number,'" she quotes. "Now, let's go gamble."

We went to the first casino we came upon. It was called The Love Bug. How awkward! But, Piper was all for it.

"It's so cute," she says.

I roll my eyes and tag along behind her.

We were stopped at the door. Apparently we didn't look 21. We showed I.D. and continued on our way.

I was just ready to gamble. I headed straight for a slot machine.

"I am going to look around," Piper tells me.

"Sure, whatever," I say now fully concentrating on playing slots.

She snorts and walks away.

A guy sits down beside me at the slots.

I glance over as I am waiting for the machine to warm up.

"Hey," he grins.

He has short brown hair. He's probably in his fifties. But, he's kind of cure in a nerdy way.

"Hi," I smile.

"Can I get you a drink? I have gambled away nearly all my money tonight. I'd rather spend the rest of it on a pretty lady," the man flirts.

I rolled my eyes, "Apple martini and a shot of whiskey sour."

"My kind of woman," he grins.

I was playing vigorously when he returned.

"Jeez, you're good at this," he says.

"I know," I laugh. I take my shot of whiskey sour from him and down it. Then I take my martini. I sip on it.

"How's it coming?" he asks.

"I've made $1,000," I say.

His mouth drops open, "Damn girl."

I laugh, "I'm very good at slots."

"I see," he says.

"My mom and aunt Jane took me on my 21st birthday to gamble. I've been addicted to slots ever since," I explain.

"Well, you've certainly mastered it," he says.

"I know," I grin. "Now, if you'll leave me alone, I can get back to my winning."

I made over $2,000 at the end of the night.