Lydia felt the same pull as when they teleported to prank the old man down the streets, but as soon as she felt her feet on the ground she let go of the feathers, not wanting Beetlejuice to notice her. The music was loud in this underground bar, the hot pink walls and crooked floor seemed to be moving with the strobing lights, the broken disco balls perched at various heights hypnotised her for a second before she remembered her mission, the rings clenched inher hands, the quickly caught a glimpse of her husband who was sitting on the bar. Cross legged, talking to a small girl with a lipstick in one hand and a pot of glitter in the other. She was... scolding him? The little girl really seemed upset but after a melodramatic beg for mercy and a quick clean-up to remove the blood from his suit, she finally forgave him and went back to her mission of fancying him up. So that's where the lipstick came from. Even his eye was back as she needed putmakeup back on it.

Lydia was hiding behind a pillar, but she knew she had to do something about her appearance. There was no question about how alive she looked compared to the mutilated, blue skinned party goers. She had to think fast, but sadly the answer was close to the ghoul. The little girl seemed to possess a whole bag of makeup, including blue and purple face paint.

The stripped ghost was really playing his part, staying still while being poked in the face and covered in even more glitter, he was only moving to sip on a black whisky. She tried crawling to the edge of the bar, Careless Whispers blasting in the hot air, she got lucky enough to find a huge brim hat to hide herself even more. She finally had her back to the bar, the green velvet bag on the bar stool next to her, she grabbed the two products that interested her as swiftly as possible. The two foundation tubes in hand, started to blindly smear her face. She also did her hands and dug her cheeks with the purple and accentuated her eyebags. With the hat on she was a completely different person, but she still had to be discreet.

She stood up, her back to her husband, her nape tingled, she slowly turned around, bracing herself to face the terrifying man. But Anne, the very thin girl with the pink wig she met earlier, marched towards him and put her arm around his shoulders, handing him a new drink. She murmured something in his ears and before she could control her breathing, Lydia was walking towards them. Claire, the woman with the blackened legs, cut her off to grab the little purple girl. Being closer to the trio, she noticed something horrible on Anna's left arm: numbers. Badly tattooed. Her conversation with Beetlejuice over her history textbook came flooding back to her. He said before that his last mission was in the early twentieth century, but did he tell her the truth back then?

Anna finally stopped murmuring in Beetlejuice's ear and with the little girl the Claire's arms, he got up and left the bar with the two women on his heels. He brushed past his wife without even noticing, the drink in his hand almost spilled on her.

"— Sorry lady, didn't stain ya' did I? He asked, turning around to face her.

— No no, it's okay. Don't worry about me. She quickly arranged her hat to hide herself.

— You okay? Ye' looking anxious... Whass' yer name? His voice was so soft, so concerned, she was trembling and didn't have time to think things through.

— Carmen.

—That's one beautiful name, is something on yer face Carmen? He was playfully teasing her now, trying to be friendly.

— Yeah, acid. Sorry, I'm new here so I'm not really comfortable yet. She was surprised how quickly she lied.

— Welp, you er' face is half as gorgeous as yer name, you should show it off! But I get it, it's always hard at the beginning. Expect fer me of course, I'm just so good lookin', should be illegal fer me to wear clothes! His tone was so over the top, his manners so eccentric, she couldn't help but giggle. Yeah, that's better! Beautiful laugh too, you're a lucky one.

—Not that lucky, my husband is gone.

—I also have problems with my miss... He sincerely seemed hurt.

—What did she do?

—She called me a monster. I can be extreme sometimes, I know, but a monster? I dunno, comin' from her it just hit hard. I was just trying to help her, ya know?

—Maybe she was too scared to process her feelings, maybe she's sorry now.

—Nah, I don't think so.

—At the end of the day, you're her husband, you should come back to her, spend the night with her to sort things out, not here getting drunk.

—I tend to make beds colder, if you know what I mean.

—Maybe she'll make it warmer, for you. It hit him like a boulder in the face.

— Look I must go, but if ya need anything just ask, okay?

He was drunk, but his tone got so serious, so protective on this last sentence she just felt her heart swell. His freezing hand on her back, he just pressed enough for her to feel it but not be creeped out by it. He knew what he was doing, and when he finally left with Claire and Anna, she couldn't help but feel colder than when his hand was there.

She knew what she had to do.

She was careful as the kept a safe five meters distance between her and the trio, the hat tipped forward to conceal her face. They were talking loudly but it wasn't anything of interest, just small talk about the next party they wanted to go to or some jobs idea. It was so weird, seeing him in his 'natural' state. She realised how much he played his good husband role, like an actor on set, each time he was with her. He wasn't being bad, but she could clearly see that he wasn't pretending with them even if he stayed very theatrical and over the top. She couldn't help but feel bad, did he felt forced to play this innocent role? Did he hid his weaknesses from her because he did want to burden her?

She never realised until now how protective he was, even on a day-to-day basis. Lydia couldn't help but feel the sting of guilt but also, surprisingly to her, the burn of jealousy. Both women were wrapped around Beetlejuice, his hands on their back, walking in rhythm as the little girl in Claire's arms fell asleep. They turned around a crooked corner and arrived in front a big building, a green nun was waiting for them, tapping her foot on the wet pavement, an agitated expression on her round face. Beetlejuice took the child away from Claire and gave her back to the nun, he kept saying 'sorry' but she just shook her head and rolled her eyes while going back inside with the girl in her arms. It seemed to be a regular occurrence, but they weren't done with their night out. They kept walking and walking, drinks magically appearing until even the women started to be worried. There were no more lights, no one other than the trio and her in the streets they engulfed themselves in. Lydia started to be afraid, after all she was a living soul in the Netherworld, but she kept her doubts deep into her stomach and let her curiosity push her forward. Her black ankle length dress swooshing at her leather boots seemed almost too noisy for such a heavy silence, but after an eternity or two the trio had finally arrived at their destination. At this point, Beetlejuice needed to be held, the two women were dragging him while holding his shoulders on their neck. On the side of one of the numerous dark grey, slimy buildings, an emergency staircase creeped like a vine to the flat roof. She slowly and silently followed the trio who was climbing the stairs in silence now, only the grunting of Claire and Anna could be heard.

They finally arrived at the top; the roof was covered in what seemed to be junk but the way it was put together made it look like a living room with a roof made of old fabric. A huge pile of pillows, a couch, some cardboard boxes for tables. A cozy dumpster.

The women took the feathers and top hat of the barely conscious ghost, the accessories just vanished when they left his body. He lied down on the pile of cushions, the two women around him but not against him. Lydia was still on the stairs, crouching to be hidden to the edge to the roof, she hears them whispers for a little while, and when the silence rose, so did she. She walked like a cat until she reached her husband, then she kneeled, slipped her own wedding ring in his palm and whispered in his ear.

"—Come home, please."

She then left the roof top, his ring in the pocket of her dress and went back to the club. It wasn't hard to find it since it was the only one still open, The Witching Hour was calmer as people were too drunk to dance so she just walked to the pole dance bar from where she came from and whispered three times 'home'. She was back to her living room, she quickly pulled the bar away and closed the portal. Delia came running to her with the Maitlands.

"— Where were you? What did you do back there?

— We were with our social worker to talk about the loopholes Beetlejuice found when the alarm went off, we came back as fast as we could, but you know how time is out there. Pleaded a sorry Adam.

—I tried to convince Beetlejuice to come back, but he has to decide for himself. Delia, what did you do with the intruders? There wasn't even a spec of blood or a splinter on the wooden floor now.

—A team of cleaners from the Netherworld came. They said that we were lucky they died, or the Maitlands could've been in trouble, since it's the second occurence of living people meeting the dead in this house."

So, again, Beetlejuice was right. She just sighed and wanted to go to sleep, her stepmother basically pushed her to her room as she felt the exhaustion of the stepdaughter. She barely had the time to say goodnight before Lydia closed her door, which Delia and Adam fixed while she was gone.

She rushed to the bathroom and cleaned the foundation of her face and hands, then she slipped into her nightgown and crashed on her bed, burying herself in her duvet. As she was slipping into slumber, she felt a dig into the mattress, not deep enough to mean he lied down, but he was sitting on the other side of the bed, looking at the open window.

"—Who's Carmen?

—How did you know it was me? You didn't seem to have noticed at the club.

—I hadn't. He chuckled. But the blue and purple stains in the sink gave you away.

—It was my mother's name. She said after a while.

—Oh, so that is a beautiful name.

—As beautiful as her. Until the last six month, she tough bitterly.

—I'm sorry Lydz, I want to make it up to you, but I can't sleep next to you. Why do you want me in your bed, anyways?

—Because if you're in the bed, you're not somewhere else getting drunk and scary. There was a silence after that.

—Your breathing, it's so unpredictable, it's just so weird to me now.

—Maybe we could find a solution to that."

She turned around and sat in the bed, softly grabbing him by his shoulder to lay him down. He smelt like whisky and beer, but she didn't say anything. When his head finally touched the pillow she lied on her back and took his hand put it on her chest, right under the collarbones.

"— If you can feel it, maybe it'll help." She whispered as he looked at her with bewildered eyes.

He was on top of the covers, his shoes still on, while her body was kept warm. But he finally closed his eyes, and she followed suit.