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space again,” he stated.

“Huh?” I ducked as the papier mâché angel came back for round two.

He glanced around and tugged me to the side of the room. Princess Peach smiled down at us from the spray-painted mural on the wall and the glasses in my arms teetered wildly.

“I was just checking to see if you were…” He gave me a look that was all creased forehead and narrowed eyes.

“You have to be more specific,” I declared. “I don’t speak fluent pointed looks.”

“Well, you’ve been acting a little strange lately,” he declared, glancing around again. “You ran out of here the other night, and you ran out on me at breakfast.” Was that sweat beading on his forehead? “Scarlett, have you stopped taking your meds?” he added, keeping his voice hushed, even though no one had any chance of overhearing us with the music at the volume it was.

I felt the blood drain from my face and it took everything I had to hold on to the glasses. Of course, he thought I was on the slow decline into insanity. He didn’t remember anything about the Naturals or the things I’d told him on the way home about my test results. He still believed I was regular old Scarlett Ravenwood. Honestly, I was still debating that fact myself.

“I…” I fumbled and looked over my shoulder. I didn’t want to lie to my best friend, but maybe this was one of those moments I had to—for his safety and mine.

“I know.” He looked like he was about to have me committed.

“What do you mean, you know?” A pang stabbed me in the gut and a little piece of me hoped he’d remembered our adventures. It was selfish because he was far better off not knowing about the time he was possessed by a demon. Especially when I involuntarily saw his willy in a prelude to you know what.

“Your pills didn’t flush all the way down the loo.”

I groaned and rolled my eyes. The first thing I’d done after we’d scoffed down those kebabs was lock myself in the bathroom and dumped my meds into the toilet and flushed. The water pressure was obviously on the fritz if a few of the suckers had stuck around in the cistern.

“I don’t need them anymore,” I stated.

“Who told you that? A doctor?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact.” I pouted and turned on my heel, weaving through the crowd. The beer glasses got heavier in my arms like it was some kind of analogy for the string of lies I’d have to tell my best friend from now on.

“I don’t know what kind of crackpot you saw,” Jackson said, clearly not done with his well-intentioned intervention, “but it’s clearly not helping.”

“Jackson, I’m fine,” I said as I put the stack of glasses down on the bar. My melancholy was less to do with the medication and more to do with the world being infiltrated by demons. “I know you’re just trying to look out for me, but I’m cool.”

He gave me a disbelieving look and ran his hand through his hair.

“This is something I’ve gotta try, okay?” It was my turn to give him a pointed look. “I’ve been struggling with this my whole life, and I don’t want to rely on those pills forever. I don’t want to become dependent, and if there’s a way to cope without them, I have to try it.”

He pursed his lips but nodded.

“Thank you.”

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” he said as he was jostled by an overenthusiastic Overwatch character. “I’ve gotta practice in the morning for that tournament, but I’m free after that.”

“The thing at the O2 arena?”

“The one and the same. If I win, we’re going to Aruba.”

“Aruba?”

He shrugged. “Don’t know where it is, but everyone always says they’re going there in the movies.”

I laughed and shooed him away. Leaving the glasses for the staff out back to clean, I went out into the pub for another pass. I didn’t mind the nights I was out on bussing duties, it saved my vocal cords from being screamed raw and my feet were actually less numb after my shift. It did put me into the direct firing line of all the drunk weirdos, but the positives outweighed the negatives.

Dodging a table, I spied a few glasses that’d been dumped on the windowsill. Sighing, I made a beeline for them, but knocked my shoulder against someone who’d danced their way into my stratosphere.

“Excuse me,” I muttered, holding up my hands.

The man-boy stopped and stared, making me squeamish. He was wearing a costume of some anime character I didn’t recognise. He’d put on a blue synthetic wig, school boy uniform, and held a giant foam sword. The bouncers loved those, not. They were constantly checking the clientele for concealed weapons. Mostly they were plastic and rubber, but occasionally people had lifelike replicas. That was another story of stupidity I didn’t want to get into.

He bumped into me again and smiled when I glanced up. If he was about to hit on me, then this was so not the way to go about it. He wasn’t exactly dressed for seduction.

“Hi,” he said, his gaze meeting mine.

I tensed when I saw his completely white eyes. He might’ve been wearing a pair of coloured contact lenses for all I knew, and the lighting in here wasn’t that great since we were running a club night. Saturday brought out all the cosplayers, gamer geeks, and left of centres for a night of getting off their faces. Contact lenses were part of the illusion, which didn’t help now that I knew demons were roaming about.

“Can I help you?” I shouted over the music.

“Do you work here?” the guy asked, smirking strangely.

I wanted to put it down to him being socially awkward because I knew all about that, but since my trust quota had shorted out days ago, I just shrugged.

“Cool hair,” he said, reaching out.

I jerked backwards. “Look, I’m busy here and I’m not interested, okay? You’re not

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