Star trailed thin fingers over rock and musty flecks of wallpaper. Each night she spent her hours trying to distract herself. She counted rocks and stones at the hotel. She mended clothes. She listened to music loud enough to deafen a normal person, sought out concerts with crowds too thick to swim. Thrums of pulses and heartbeats disappeared in the beat. She danced. She cried. She dug into her skin to cut it with sharpened claws and watch the dragged wounds heal. She did everything but give in.
Except when David smiled at her, or Paul tugged at her arms to lead her through the serpentine maze of the hotel; when Dwayne shared some patch of a memory or poem, or when Marko brought home a new bird to coddle. On the nights they decided to play, to pretend they were something other than monsters, the bloodlust inside her grew.
The one thing that always brought her back was Laddie. She'd shrug the others away and force herself to embrace the little boy and pet his hair, and focus with every ounce of energy on the fact that giving in–giving up on her humanity would damn him too. Without Star, Laddie would be just as lost. She couldn't let that happen.
"Star," a small, falsely cheerful voice called out to her from a distant room. Laddie was exploring. He had his own methods of distraction when the others were gone.
"Laddie!" Star replied, plastering a smile on her face. It was easy to pretend. Sometimes.
She made her way towards him, unafraid of the dark bathing her deep within the bowels of the hotel. Star briefly thought about the story of Eurydice and Orpheus. She wondered whether it had any bearing on the hell she had sunken into. Had she lured Michael in the same way David lured her one night on the beach? If she tried to leave with Laddie tonight, could she risk turning back?
Her thoughts were interrupted when she found herself in the room Laddie had hidden in, and nearly gave out a yelp when a tiny hand reached out and yanked her across the room.
"Star, look!" Laddie exclaimed, gesturing around them. Her eyes widened as she surveyed the area. Pages from comics and coloring books had been taped to the walls, while action figures hung from strings around them as if they were dropping down lengthy ropes on a dangerous mission. There was a small mountain of raggedy stuffed animals in one corner piled high enough to make a bed, and all manners of sparkling tourists trinkets strewn over the floors. It was an innocent slice of a world Laddie was no longer a part of. His own little haven, and she'd never seen it until tonight.
"What do you think? Cool, right?" He asked, shaking her hand impatiently to get a response.
It was a fine line the pair of them walked. Laddie, the boy in front of her, was a child — yet he had felt and experienced things that no little boy could without shattering the illusion of really being a kid. He was in an odd place Star couldn't quite connect with. Some gray area of imaginary innocence.
"I think it's great," Star finally managed to speak, finding the lie sweeter than her bitter thoughts. "When did you do this?"
"I've been working on it for days," Laddie informed her proudly. He gave her hand a tug to lead her towards the pile of stuffed animals. "The man brings me these sometimes."
Star frowned, eyes roaming over the toys. Many of them did look brand new, while others might have been dampened by the rotting moisture of the cave only recently.
"The man?" She asked him. Laddie may be less vulnerable than any other little boy, with the predator lurking now in his heart like a shadowy parasite — but old habits died hard. She didn't like the sound of this man.
"Yeah," Laddie went on. "Sometimes when I'm going to get on a ride or Dwayne drops me off, the man finds me and talks. He buys me things."
Star knelt down in front of Laddie, delicately smoothing his hair back from his face. It grew longer by the day. She couldn't possibly scare him, after what he'd seen, but Star was still careful with her words.
"Laddie, what does the man tell you?"
"Lots of things," Laddie replied, snatching up a Teddy Ruxpin from the top of the pile and shaking it in front of her with a gleeful smile. "He knows lots of things. He knows Dwayne, and David, and Marko, and Paul. He says he talks to all kinds of kids like me, and when he gets the chance he's going to take me home to my mom as soon as he finds her."
Star's bottom lip quivered, a nerve twitching beneath the pink flesh like an insect buried inside it. She couldn't stop it, couldn't pretend to be nearly as brave as Laddie might need her to be.
"Laddie, you shouldn't talk to that man, and you shouldn't take things from strangers," she explained very quietly, reaching for the doll, "when you accept things from people you don't know, and you don't know why, they can hurt you."
Laddie pulled back, holding the toy a little tighter. His intense joy at sharing his secret and his space with her quickly melted from his face, replaced instead with a guarded sadness. He knew what she meant.
"I need to, Star. I need all these things."
"Laddie—"
"I wanna be happy," The little boy went on, squeezing his eyes shut tight to hold back tears. His face crumpled. "If I can't be happy, I'm hungry. I don't wanna be hungry…"
She wanted to pull him close and brush away the horrible feelings in the pit of their guts, she wanted to take back her words and at the same time have him understand.
"I wanna be happy," Laddie repeated himself, burying his face against his doll. Star looked away, trying to find something else to say. The words just weren't there. So she waited, and she watched him cry, while a sinister voice in her mind that never went away simply whispered to her.
You can both be happy. Just feed. Nothing will matter after that. Nothing.
She despised that voice. She despised herself. More than anything, she despised how right she knew it was. If they did just feed, nothing else would matter.
He was glad he'd bought the jacket. It was strangely cold tonight. Michael was only too happy to drop Sam off and make his way back along the boardwalk towards his bike. It felt silly to keep his little brother company the whole way there, but that murder capital shit Sam had brought up earlier sort of bugged him. His imagination went wild sometimes.
"Hey," a voice called out to him, "looking for something?"
Michael looked up from where he'd parked his bike towards a stretch of boardwalk that merged into a pier at the edge of the beach. All of the guys were there, leaning over the railing casually, grinning in his direction.
"Or someone?" David continued, lowering his cigarette as he spoke. The smoke drifting from his mouth alongside his words made him look ghostly. Almost ethereal. Michael dismissed the thought, striding across the wooden slats towards them. Funny, they seemed so far for him to hear David's voice as clearly as he did.
"Hey," Michael greeted them, twisting idly at the earring he only vaguely recalled having Star pierce him with while the others watched.
"Where's Star?" He asked, anxious to see her and yet not especially disappointed that she wasn't around. These guys were fun enough, and it wasn't like he wouldn't run into her later.
Paul burst into laughter, leaning forward over the railing until it looked like he'd flip over, "around. Here. There."
David rolled his eyes at Paul and then looked back at Michael, cigarette dangling between his gloved fingers. "She decided to have a night in. What brings you out tonight?"
"Just felt like going for a ride," Michael lied. He wanted to hang out, maybe make out with Star. Still, better to act aloof and distant about the whole idea. That was the sort of vibe he got from the guys. They went where they wanted, did whatever, and made no plans that couldn't be changed. It must be nice.
David nodded, flicking his cigarette to the sand. It buried itself beside a broken shell, the glowing ember stubbornly refusing to die.
"Let's go," David told him, nodding to the rest of his gang. Michael followed, shrugging away the odd feeling that he wasn't just making a suggestion. He was issuing a command.
They trailed across the pier, carving a wide swath as they went. The gang had a bit of an off putting vibe if you didn't know them. For a moment, Michael wondered if he could honestly say he did. Yet, he felt perfectly comfortable with them. More than that, after the party they'd thrown at their hangout, he sort of felt like he always had. Weed and wine were apparently the perfect foundation for instant friendship.
Riding quickly back to the hotel, the fog peeled away from them and melted, like cotton candy in water. Whereas the first time he'd raced David, Michael felt like he'd been forced to prove something to them or maybe even himself, tonight he enjoyed it. Even managed to push his bike a little harder. The night looked a little brighter. Safer. There was no fear of colliding with something or riding off a cliff this time.
Once they'd arrived at the hotel and made their way over the snaking wooden stairs, Michael wondered how he'd managed to make it home the night before without drunkenly stumbling over the side. It was a death trap. Marko hopped up behind him, clapping hands on Michael's shoulders and leaning close to his ear. The blonde must not have been as short as Michael thought, because he couldn't feel the pressure on his back of Marko standing on the tips of his toes.
"Gonna be a fun night, bud," Marko teased. All at once the brunette noticed how close they were, and he took a few quick steps forward to give himself some distance. He nearly stumbled into Paul ahead of him, who balanced precariously over the edge of the steps with his arms out to balance himself.
"Whoa!" Paul exclaimed, looking back at Michael, "almost took me out, man!"
"Sorry," Michael apologized, not quite sure exactly how beet red his face was right then, but sure it must be. Marko squeezed beside him, grinning and giving Paul a good shove. The rocker hopped a few steps forward, making Michael's heart sink to the bottom of his stomach. It's like they were actively trying to get themselves killed.
David was the first to drift through the entrance of the hotel, and in the brightly-lit night, Michael rather thought it resembled the mouth of hell. Something no living person should go near, if the caution signs and gates everywhere were anything to judge by. Dwayne lingered behind once Paul and Marko followed David inside.
"You coming?" Dwayne asked, looking back at Michael with a not-quite-smile.
"You inviting?" Michael answered with another question. A half-hearted attempt at a joke. He didn't feel quite uncomfortable right now, but a sudden nervous energy poured over him. If he had too much to drink again tonight, he wouldn't be able to pick up Sam and take him home. If he suddenly left, it would look like he was chickening out for no reason.
"Come on," Dwayne stepped closer to Michael, holding out a hand, "everyone's waiting."
Michael looked down at the hand thoughtfully, shaking away the thoughts nagging at the back of his mind. He'd worry later. If he was late, so what? Sam could wait for him.
Inside was just as cozy as he remembered. A junkyard and a funhouse. He remembered this used to be a hotel. Maybe it was a graveyard, too. Were there still bodies buried beneath the old place? Skeletons trapped in the cracks and crevices that had formed when the earthquake hit?
"Michael, join the party!" David shouted out, drawing his attention. The blonde reclined in his wheelchair, arms spread wide in a welcoming gesture. Dimly, Michael was aware of Star watching them all from a canopied bed in the corner, shrouded by a whisper-thin curtain and a fall of dark hair.
"Sleeping beauty," Paul remarked, as if he could read Michael's thoughts.
Star's face turned just slightly, registering Paul's voice.
"Hey," Michael called out to her, a little awkwardly. He was glad she was there. Maybe she'd had even more to drink than he had, if she was still sleeping it off.
"Star," David said her name. For a tense moment, it looked like she wasn't going to respond. Lover's quarrel, maybe?
Just when it seemed as if someone was going to have to say something to cut the tension, Star slipped from the bed and parted the curtains. She looked tired. Fragile. All at once the atmosphere in the room seemed to shift to something Michael couldn't quite define. Tense, maybe. Something more.
"Get some fresh air," David suggested, "you look beat."
With a subtle gesture from one of his gloved hands, Paul hopped across the lobby towards Star, bouncing on the balls of his feet, "c'mon. I'll walk with you."
"I can go on my own," Star replied moodily.
"No," Paul told her, his smile growing wider. "You can't."
Michael made a move as if to step between them, protective, concerned. David gave an audible sigh.
"He's not going to bite her. She hasn't had anything to eat in two days," he explained. "Sometimes you gotta force these things."
"You haven't?" Michael asked, looking back at Star, frowning. His mom had gone through periods like that when she wouldn't eat, when things got really bad with his parents.
"You should eat," David told her, "Paul will take care of you Star. Stop acting like this."
"I don't want to," Star whispered, eyes darting towards Michael, "I don't need to. Michael, you shouldn't be here. I'm sorry, just go. Just go."
Whatever episode she was going through, it twisted his stomach in knots, and he could only helplessly watch as this girl he'd met and really liked showed a side to her he hadn't expected. She'd been so confident when they met. She needed help.
"Don't worry about it," Paul told Michael with a smile that was just a little too wide to be reassuring. "She'll get a bite." He gripped her shoulders now, leading Star towards the exit, "you gotta watch after Laddie, huh? One of you has to eat first. The kid's sleeping now, isn't he? I don't want to have to wake him up…"
The exchange was weird, but Michael couldn't pretend he knew anything about any of them. Whatever demons Star was dealing with, it seemed like they were doing their best to help. What a buzzkill, though.
"Hey, Michael," David called out to him, "you wanna see something fun?"