There were few things that enraged Logan Cale as much as having the wealth and status of his infamous last name thrown in his face. Later on, all he could remember was the heat of the anger which seemed to consume all else. He could have turned back at some point, he supposed. But then, the evening wouldn't have turned out the way that it did.
"Can you believe the bastards raised the sector pass fee again? Pass the ketchup, will you, Max."
"I know, Sketch, the idiots at the city just don't want us to ever be able to make a living, do they."
Max glanced sideways across the crooked table at Logan. It was the second night in a row that Logan had dropped by after work to touch base about a mission and they had ended up at the greasy diner across the street Jam Pony with her friends.
Max was willing to take what she could get. Logan could be decisive and firm during an Eyes Only mission, but he turned uneasy at the mere mention of joining her for an evening at Crash. Max saw the same hesitation and discomfort whenever the world reminded Logan that he had to use wheels now to get around in the world.
Now, beers in hand, they sat, jammed around the crooked table. Max, Original Cindy, Herbal, Sketchy…and now Logan argued good-naturedly about the crimes of the local government.
"Original Cindy hasn't gotten one raise since starting at Jam Pony and the price of passes has already gone up three times! Original Cindy is going to have to start taking nail clients again if this keeps up."
Logan's usually quiet voice cut through the din.
"Cindy, don't you think there's some good done if the city uses the sector pass revenues to fix the roads?"
There was a pause in the conversation. The flow of the unofficial Jam Pony bitch session had been interrupted. And now it erupted.
"Are you kidding, rich boy?"
"That's just the kind of comment I'd expect from a white, fat cat son of the famous Cale family."
"Your kind has no idea what we mere mortals even do every day."
Max cast a nervous look at Logan, thinking this would be as good an excuse as any for him to bolt out of the diner. But she needn't have worried.
Logan bristled back, "You think that just because my relatives own some company that I can't handle the real world?" They had no idea. Logan spent all day, every day, trying to balance the scales on the side of the less fortunate.
Original Cindy arched an eyebrow and teased, "That's exactly what I think. The real world is a little too messy and "31 flavored" for a guy like you – someone used to ordering "vanilla."
"No way," Logan's voice rose dangerously.
"Tell you what," Original Cindy drew out the words slowly, "tonight being Halloween, why don't you bring yourself down to Sector 4 and we'll see how you handle yourself with the regula' folk?
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Logan had forgotten it was Halloween. The group rose as one. Bills were thrown on the table for the beer and they trooped out, jeering and shouting Logan's name.
Suddenly, hats, sunglasses, and wigs were pulled out of bags and the
Fueled by anger, he pushed himself along in the dark. Soon, more and more people joined the crowd. He felt himself being swept along in the wave of people. All around him, people in various states of dress, from the fully costumed to the barely clothed, raced toward some unseen goal.
The streets narrowed and the building around them grew taller. They had entered the Sector Four, where crumbling brick buildings lined the narrow alleys. Music began to pour out of every window, where enterprising DJ's had rigged generators to supply the music for the all-night party. Black lights lit the walls, where lurid messages in fluorescent paint snaked their way up towards the sky.
Logan had to slow down to navigate the rough sidewalks. The tide of party-goers swept around him. He had lost sight of Max and he could barely see Sketchy bright hat bobbing in front of him. With a final push, he rounded the corner, completely surrounding by the pulsing mob.
The walls rose up around the courtyard, five stories high. One narrow balcony held the bass and lead guitarist, while the lead singer and the drummer stared down from another one. Paper lanterns, splashed with more fluorescent paint, swung crazily from lines strung clear across the courtyard. The same paint swirled on the ground and climbed up the walls. Strobe lights hung from every available surface, illuminating the whole scene with their dizzying pulses.
He had reached the bottleneck of the courtyard's entry point. Max and her friends were nowhere to be seen. Bodies pressed in all around him, people leaning against the back of his chair and on each side. Faces were painted in extra eyes and whiskers, masks dripped with fake gore, and wings and tails sprouted The air around him felt hot and close. Logan felt himself being slowly squeezed forward by the mass.
He should have been scared. Anyone leaning a little harder one way or another could have easily tipped him over and he could have been trampled before he'd been able to get back in the chair. He should have been scared, but, he wasn't.
Logan rested his hands on the rims of the chair. He closed his eyes and leaned back. The throbbing music infused his head. It rattled his teeth and changed his heartbeat to its own insistent beat. When he opened his eyes again, the lights had changed. He could barely make out the dim figures around him now and the pulsing strobes only lit the occasional freeze frame.
Figures bobbed and swayed around him. He could no longer move in any direction. His mouth opened. Logan felt a yell escaping his lips. Its sound was swallowed up by the din around him, but he could feel its vibrations fill his throat. It was a tribal yell, a guttural animal sound, part frustration, part escape, part freedom, part powerful joy.
Someone else next to him took up the cry and pressed against the back of his chair. Bodies were bumping and grinding around him now. The lights went out and only a few dim black lights stayed on. Someone ran a hand along his damp cheek and down his neck. He reached out his own hands to feel the warm body front of him and found them exploring the smooth contours of hips as they swayed reflexively with the his movements.
A pair of warm lips caressed his ear on the left, while he brought another hand to his own lips. A throaty voice whispered in his right ear, "Cha-cha-cha", lingering on the last syllable. He turned toward the voice as its owner knelt down beside him. Her arms encircled his chest as she nuzzled his neck, nibbling her way all the way around until she had draped herself across him. He surrendered himself to the dizzying effect of the darkness and noise and slid his hand around her waist, feeling her bare skin skim beneath his fingers. The warm body on his lap seemed content to stay there, pressed against his chest, feeling the throb of the music course through them.
At last the song wound down and as the music changed, the body got up from his lap. It stepped lightly to the ground and was gone. The lights came up again and Logan squinted into the glaring strobes again. The crowd had thinned out and breeze had kicked up. He made his way back through the alleyway and moved along smoothly in the cooling night air. It was late now and the crowd quickly dispersed. He saw no sign of his companions, so after a few minutes of eyeing the throng, he turned toward home.
It was late and he should have been tired, but Logan felt a lightness in his arms and a tingling on his face as if a great weight had been lifted from him, if only for one night. Perhaps he should have felt guilty about what had happened on the dance floor. After all, he and Max had been exchanging telling glances and the occasional flirtatious words. But, Logan wasn't even entirely sure that the looks weren't all in his mind. Perhaps he would tell her someday about this Halloween night. For right now, having this small secret, some secret other than Eyes Only, felt good.
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Epilogue
"So, Logan, where'd you go last night anyway? We completely lost you once we got close to party central. Did you just head back?"
"For your information, Max, I am capable of having a good time, even without your help, you know."
"Well, my apologies, then. I just thought that since you hate Halloween and all…"
"It's not all bad. Do you have time for a cup of coffee, Max? The joe's almost done."
"Yeah, just barely. I really gotta run or Normal's going to have my ass," she replied.
Max poured the coffee into her mug and shut the lid, getting ready to head out the door. As she squeezed behind Logan, she leaned down to whisper in his ear.
"Thanks for the coffee. Cha-cha-cha."