I rush into work the day after the art gala to turn in my first assignment. I want to make sure it's in on time. I spent all night editing and revising. I had to have done it at least ten times. It shouldn't have any mistakes.
"Congratulations," my boss says walking into my office.
"Pardon?" I ask confused.
"Your article. It was really good. Spectacular for your first article. Though I suppose you've written before. It's just your first article here. Well, you've made a great first impression," she smiles.
"Thank you," I grin. "I spent a lot of time revising."
"I meant the content, not the grammar."
"Oh," I blush. "Well, thank you again."
"You're welcome. I've emailed you your next assignment. It's not due until next week. So take some time to work on it and have enough time to relax," she instructs.
"Will do," I nod.
I go home after lunchtime, because there really was no point in me staying any later. My assignment wasn't due for a while and it was on a town event that wasn't happening until next weekend.
Piper isn't here, which surprises me. She's always home, since she works from here. Maybe she's speaking with someone about buying her painting or something. I shrug and go turn on the TV.
After fifteen minutes of channel surfing, I give up. There is absolutely nothing on TV. I sigh and look at the time; it's only 2:00.
I groan, and then I smile, realizing I still had that $2,000 from that first night at the casino. I think I'll go gamble it away, maybe win some more money. Who knows?
I go to my closet to try and find the perfect outfit. I want something flashy, but nothing too revealing. Who knows, maybe I can attract some male attention while I'm out. It's definitely been too long since my last boyfriend.
I sigh and decide my closet needs to be restocked; maybe I'll use the money I win today, if I win that is, to replenish my poor, barren closet.
I notice a casino on the way to the one we had gone to previously and decide to stop there instead. It's closer, and I haven't been there yet.
I show my I.D. at the entrance and head straight towards the slots.
I am at it for hours, winning a couple hundred dollars, but spending more. I decide I need a break and head to the door. I show my I.D. again and order an apple martini. I feel like relaxing tonight and that's just what I need.
"Thank you," I smile graciously at the bartender.
"Welcome, ma'am," he grins, dipping his head politely before turning to his next customer.
I sigh. I don't appreciate the ma'am, but I guess he was just being polite.
I sip the last of my drink and head back to the slot machines.
I am starting to lose interest in what I'm doing when someone sits down beside me.
"Fancy seeing you here," a male voice directs towards me.
I turn to see the man I met in the casino that first night.
"Can I help you?" I ask him.
"Peter Vincent, at your service," he grins.
"Peter Vincent," I murmur. "Why does that name sound so familiar?"
He shrugs, "Maybe it's just one of those names."
"Maybe," I frown, not really believing him.
"Winning anything tonight?"
"Not really. A couple hundred, but I've already put five in."
"Not too bad. Usually I don't get anything back," Vincent chuckles.
"Mr. Vincent, do you have a purpose for talking to me?" I ask him.
"No, not really," he shrugs. "I just like talking to a beautiful woman."
I blush. "Thanks, I guess."
"No problem," he laughs. "It's the truth."
"So, what are you doing here?" I ask him.
"I put on shows at casinos in the Las Vegas area," he smiles. "Tonight, I perform here."
"Really?" I ask. "What kind of performance?"
"Magic."
"Really?" I question.
"Oh, yes. Very much so. You would enjoy it, I think," he smiles. "You should come see it tonight at 8."
"Oh, well, I don't know…," I trail off.
"You think about it. It's here in the main event room, at 8. Here," he says pulling a piece of paper out of his jacket. "This is a VIP ticket, front row seating, and back stage access after the show. Feel free to use it."
"Thanks," I smile at him. It really is very generous of him, even if he is just trying to hit on me and get in my pants.
"I should go. My… associates… would probably like to rehearse a bit before the show. I hope to see you there," he kisses my hand and struts away.
I am pretty sure I'm blushing. Something I never do. I frown at myself and decide to head home. It's only 5, I have some time to decide if I should go see Peter Vincent's show or not.
"Where have you been?" Piper asks as I walk through the door.
"Oh, I went to a casino I found just down the road," I shrug. "I'm thinking about going back tonight."
"Oh," she frowns.
"Is that a problem?" I ask.
"Don't you think you spend too much time gambling?" she asks.
"It's the second time," I roll my eyes.
"Fine," she concedes. "I am going out with Jerry tonight."
"Do you really think that's the best idea?" I ask her. I didn't like that guy.
"He's really nice. Why don't you like him?" she questions.
"It's not that I don't like him. I just… get a bad vibe from him," I tell her honestly.
"A bad vibe?" she scoffs. "If that's what we're basing things on these days, you should have listened to me about the last five guys you brought home."
"Exactly, they were all nasty people," I tell her. "You're only proving my point."
She sighs, "Just, trust me on this one. I don't get that vibe at all. I just think you don't like him, so you don't want me to like him."
"Of course that's not it," I sigh. "I'm just telling you how I feel. I hope you have fun tonight."
"You, too," she smiles. "I'm headed for the shower. He's picking me up at six."
I head into my room, laying the ticket to Peter's show on my bed. I just stare at it for a couple minutes, trying to decide what to do.
"You know what?" I say out loud. "I'm going to go. Why not? I'm a grown woman. I can have a little fun if I want. Who knows, maybe Peter will turn out to be a great guy."
I smile and head to my closet. I need something to wear. Something fancy, but not over the top. Hmm, what should I wear? I muse.
"Perfect," I murmur as my eyes fall on an outfit hanging near the back of my closet.
I lay it out on my dresser. I want to take a shower before I change. It is only five, so I lie down on my bed and shut my eyes, promising just to rest for a minute or two.
I am startled awake by a knock on my bedroom door.
I look at my clock, it's a little after six.
"Alissa, I'm leaving," I hear Piper call. "I'll be home later. If you're even here."
"Okay," I reply. I sit up and frown. I guess I nodded off. Oh, well. Now, I'm well rested and ready to head out to the casino.
After, I take a shower, that is.
I arrive at the casino at a little after seven. I didn't know if I should be there or not. The outfit I had chosen was a pair of dark blue skinny jeans and a white knit top that I paired with a black crop underneath. I am wearing a pair of glittery white heals to match.
I sigh and ask the nearest worker for directions to the main event room. He kindly points and tells me it is straight down the main hallway.
"Thank you," I say politely and continue on. I found the room and show my ticket. They direct me to a front row seat and tell me someone will take me backstage after the show.
I thank them as well and turn to the stage.
Well. That was… a very interesting show. That's all I can say about it. I can't even… begin to describe it. It's something you have to see for yourself. There are simply no words.
"Miss, are you ready to head backstage?" a woman asks.
I nod, "Yes, thank you."
She takes me straight to Peter.
"Well, did you enjoy it?" he asks.
"You look so different. I didn't even know it was you at first," I mutter. His hair was black and long. He suddenly had tattoos and vampire fangs. It was a marvelous transformation.
"Ah, yes, I was hoping you'd figure it out. This is my stage outfit. I like to keep my two lives separate," he grins.
"Of course," I murmur.
"I'm going to head back to my dressing room. To transform back to the Peter you know. Would you like to accompany me?" he asks.
"Sure," I nod. "I'd like to see just how far you went to get to this Peter."
"Are you talking about the tattoos?" he laughs.
I nod, "Have you always had them? Or are they just for show? You've always been wearing long sleeves."
"I guess you'll just have to find out," he grins. He takes my arm and begins leading me away from the stage.
"So, you do this a lot?" I ask him.
"Oh, yes. All the time," he nods. "It brings in great crowds, which means great money."
"Is that why you do it?" I ask.
"Oh, no. I did this for the longest time, for the money. Then, I… had a brief break, where some… crazy shit happened. Now, I love it. It's so… simple. Simple is good," he admits.
"Really? You think that was simple?" I ask amazed. "What you did was… I just don't have a word for it."
"I know," he grins. "I know."
"You're a cocky bastard, aren't you?" I laugh.
"Oh, most definitely," he smirks.
"I like it."
Peter laughs. "I like you. You have no reservations, never embarrassed."
I shrug.
"Well, dear… uh, what's your name?" he asks.
"Alissa," I tell him. I can't remember if I ever told him or not.
"Right, Alissa. Anyway, we are here. You are about to see the magnificent transformation take place. I hope you know, not many people have ever seen this," he informs me. "This is an honor."
"Why are you bestowing this honor upon me?" I ask.
"I like you," he smirks. "I believe I've already said that. Come inside now."
He locks the door to his room behind us.
I raise an eyebrow.
"What? I don't want anyone to walk in while I'm transforming. There are crazy fans out there, you know?" he laughs.
"Uh huh," I mutter. "So, are you going to begin?"
He takes off his wig and runs a hand through his hair, making it look like he just woke up, or he just had sex. Then he pulls out the fangs in his mouth, running his tongue along his teeth. "The cement tastes nasty."
I frown, "That's gross."
"And to think, I have to do this a couple nights a week," he laughs.
Then he begins undressing.
"Whoa, what are you doing?" I ask.
"Well, every day Peter doesn't wear these clothes. I have to change," he smirks.
I roll my eyes but allow him to continue. He is well built. He does however have several scars running along his abdomen and dropping down even lower, covered by the pants he still has on.
"See something you like?" he asks.
"Hmm, yeah, though I have seen better. How'd you get those scars?" I ask curiously.
"An unfortunate accident," he murmured. His eyes glaze over and he stares, not seeing, for a minute. He clears his throat, and then begins taking off his pants. "Sorry, but you're going to have to deal with me in this state for a while, so I can remove the tattoos."
"Ah, so they aren't real?" I laugh.
"No," he shakes his head.
He grabs a bottle of alcohol and begins rubbing away at the ink.
"Is that drinking alcohol?" I ask.
"Yes," he sighs. "I… used to have a bit of a drinking problem. Okay, it was a big drinking problem. I used this and drank from it, night after night. Now, I just use it to clean the tattoos. I promised not to drink any of it, well, at least not in excess. I still drink."
"Oh," I say. "Well, that's admirable."
"Thanks," he grins. "Want to help?"
I grab another paper towel and tip the alcohol bottle. I work on the opposite arm. Slowly and meticulously rubbing against the ink, watching it smear and fade until nothing remains.
I take a sip out of the bottle of alcohol. I probably shouldn't, I know what can happen here, what will happen here, if we drink too much, but I just can't seem to care.
He grins and takes a sip himself. I continue rubbing away at his arm.
"Finished," I murmur.
"Good," he smiles. "I'm back to just Peter."
"I like, just Peter," I tell him.
"I'm glad," he says, he puts his hand on the back of my head and brings my face closer to his. "I'm going to kiss you now."
And he did.
It was a slow, passionate kiss. One fueled by desire and liquor, but passionate all the same.
The kisses turned hungry.
"What are we doing?" Peter asks breaking away.
"I thought that was rather obvious," I smirk, throwing all caution to the wind. I decided that for the night, just one night, I could just let go, be free.
