“What in the world is all this racket out here?” Rachel questioned as she emerged from her room, rubbed her eyes, and yawned.

“I’m sorry, sweet cheeks, is the sound of me cleaning too much for you? Maybe you would rather I be louder, or prefer it to sound like this?” I banged the kitchen chair on the floor in a rhythmic pattern and mimicked Rachel's moans from the night before.

“Okay, I get it, I was a little loud. You know me when I drink, I get a little... extra.” She grumbled at me. “You don’t have to make me feel any worse than I already do.”

“Mornin’ sluts,” Cooper interrupted.

Rachel startled and rubbed her temples again. “Jesus, you scared me.”

“I heard moaning, so I came running.” Cooper laughed as he walked past Rachel. He grabbed an apple from the counter, tossed it up, caught it, and took a bite. “I don’t think I’ve ever had the pleasure of hearing you moan, Savi; that was…” he wiped a fake tear from his eye, "the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.”

“The first and only time you’ll ever hear that from me, so don’t say another word about it. I was just reminding the one and only slut here what she made us suffer through last night.” I side-eyed Rachel.

“Suffer? Who was suffering? It was music to my ears," Cooper snorted.

“Okay, again, I get it. I'm the neighborhood slut, but can we please lower the volume? My head is pounding.” Rachel shuffled into the kitchen and grabbed a glass from the cabinet.

“That’s not all that was pounding…”

“COOPER!” we both said in unison.

“Alright, alright, I'm done for now. I gotta head to work anyway. Catch you two later tonight, yeah? Don't have too much fun without me!” he called back from the front door.

“Have you noticed how he always has work when it’s apartment cleaning day? It’s like he picks up the extra shifts solely to avoid helping?" Rachel scoffed.

“Well, he does have three jobs, so it makes sense he would be busy. Besides, he can’t keep his room clean—his idea of tidy is piling everything up and walking around it for weeks. And with your hangover, would you want to hear me yell at him? By the way, are you going to be okay to clean?"

Rachel buried her head in her arms on the counter and groaned. “Yeah, you’re right about Cooper. I can’t handle babysitting him like a toddler. And yes, I’ll be fine—” She straightened up, stopped herself from vomiting, and rubbed her head again.

“How about you go draw a bath and I’ll bring you something for your stomach here in a minute? I've got this.”

"No, I couldn’t do that to you. Let me take some medicine, grab a quick shower, and I’ll be right as rain. Leave this stuff, and I’ll be out in a few. But no more loud noises. M’kay?"

“Can do."

While Rachel showered, I tackled the mess in my studio area. It had become chaotic over the past few weeks as I had been painting like crazy. Though the dining area was small, it was ideal for my needs. My easel, taboret, and an old hutch I repurposed as a storage cabinet took up one half. And we had scooted our dining table up against the bar so we still had a place to eat. It was perfect.

My hand slid over the brushes and oil paints on my taboret. The blue and green tubes mirrored the colors on the large canvas atop my easel. Lush turquoise shades blended across the surface with occasional pops of red. This was my first abstract piece.

Normally, I was very representational with my work, but this canvas seemed to call to me, guiding each brushstroke. I had let myself get lost in it. Time had slipped away, but I couldn’t recall making these marks from any nights before.

‘Was this the piece I was working on that had kept Cooper up?’

Usually, I was fully aware of everything I created because, like every artist, I was my own worst critic. But for some reason, this piece was all too hazy.

'What if I am repeating last year all over again? What if they are right to worry?’

Sorrow filled me at the thought of another traumatic episode. A faint whisper filled my mind as it began to run wild with anxious thoughts, followed by echoes of more whispers I couldn’t quite understand. One rang through the chaos.

“Surrender.”

I made it out plainly; heard it so loud as if someone was standing next to me. All the whispers stopped as soon as it registered. I grabbed the piece and stomped to the storage hutch. Shoving it in the back behind all the blank canvases, I slammed the door shut and breathed deeply.

"Whoa, what did the cabinet do to you?” Rachel asked from behind me.

I turned to see Rachel towel-drying her hair.

“That was quick; I didn’t expect you out so soon. Uh, the cabinet? Oh, it’s nothing—just frustrated with a piece I was working on. You know how it is. Out of sight, out of mind now," I replied, trying to shift my focus back to reality and away from what had just happened.

“Ooookayyyy….” hummed Rachel. "No, I don’t know; I'm not an artist, silly, and I was in the shower for a while. What do you mean that was fast?”

“What? Hmmm, oh, never mind. It’s nothing. Feeling better?”

“Ehh, about as much as I can be. Sorry for all the racket last night. Tom was going to take me out, but then we decided to have a pre-drink at home. And one thing led to another. I didn’t think to warn y'all, and besides, I thought you guys would be out much later with Cooper’s new fling. I had every intention of it being done before y'all got back. Sorry about that.”

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“Alex, you mean Alex, right? Or was it Luke? But now it’s Tom, I suppose.” I shot her a teasing grin. Wasn't the first time she'd hooked up with someone and gotten their name wrong, and definitely wouldn't be the last.

“Oh God, I really am the neighborhood slut, aren’t I?" Rachel fell onto the couch and put the towel over her face.

“Oh, no, hun. You simply like to have a variety and haven’t quite found the right Skittle flavor yet. Granted, you’ve tried eight flavors and there are only five in a bag, so possibly it's a bad analogy. You’ll find your flavor…. yours could be some variety of chocolate.” I stifled a giggle and sat next to her.

“You are shit at helping me feel better, you know that, right?" Rachel threw her towel at me and sat up. "Okay, enough of my faults and regrets, let's talk about you now. How did last night go? How were things with, what’s her name again, Asshole?”

“Aster!” I corrected and laughed. "You're the asshole.”

"What? I have to be the jerk here because she's the first girl Cooper's mentioned by name. I need to give him a hard time. You do too, so spill everything. What was she like? How did Cooper act with her? And how was the witchy stuff? I still think it’s nonsense, but tell me everything. Also, what does she look like? Is she prettier than me? How was the bar? Did your ID work? Did you meet any hot guys, or did you just come home with Cooper?"

I stared at her, blinking slowly. “Oh my gods, do you have any more questions, you nosy ass? If you'd stopped talking long enough to take a breath, I could begin to answer some of them. Damn, I always thought it was the coffee that made you the way you were, but clearly, it’s all you. And prettier than you, what kind of question is that?” I looked at her puzzlingly.

Rachel glared back at me and blushed.

“Oh my gods, you like Cooper!"

“I didn’t say I liked Coo-” Rachel started to argue, but I interrupted her.

“Holy cow, I can’t believe I never noticed before… all the teasing, all the jokes; you like him.”

My head slammed into the couch after a pillow collided with it at full force, knocking me back.

“Are you done?” Rachel asked, holding the pillow.

"Did you really just hit me with a pillow?”

“It was all I had near me and all I could think to get you to shut up. I do not like Cooper; I'm simply a very curious person. That's all. And that will be the end of it, understood?”

"Uh-huh…" I glared. "Well, Miss Curious, last night was… kind of strange.”

“Strange, what do you mean by strange? Is she hideous?”

“Oh my gods…”

“Okay, okay, I'll shush. Go on.” She pulled her feet up onto the sofa beneath her and gave me her full attention.

"Aster was lovely, but, like, okay, how do I even begin to explain this to you? I'm still not quite sure I understand it all myself, and I was there.” I glanced at Rachel, who had the most confused expression plastered across her face.

“Start from the beginning. I'm listening.”

"Okay, well, to answer one of your many questions, yes, the ID worked fine. And you won't believe who we ran into at the bar!”

She inched closer, eager not to miss a single drop of gossip.

“Remember Mr. Rudeness with the accent from the shop earlier this week?”

“Uhm, how could I forget that ass? I mean, yes, yes, I do remember the gentleman from the shop.” Rachel giggled and sat up straighter.

"Well, he was there at the bar, and Cooper confronted him after I told him how rude he was to me."

“Cooper confronted that tower of a human… what the hell was he thinking? He could eat him for breakfast.” Rachel started but noticed my expression of frustration. “Sorry, continue. I’ll shut up.”

"Yeah, he went to the bar to confront him and came back looking like a ghost. I heard everything—the jerk denied ever meeting me. Can you believe that? Nothing happened to explain Cooper’s drastic change, though. It was so strange. Also, I had my first shot of something, though I'm still not sure what it was."

“HOLY SHIT! And what the fuck, Coop knew I wanted to be there the first time you had a drink. I’m gonna kill that asshat. But that will happen later; continue….”

"Well, we left the bar and headed to Aster's, and she was so lovely. She appears to be a good match for Cooper; I mean, sorry, I mean they get along well and she's exactly his type. Errr, sorry, Rach."

“What? There’s nothing to be sorry for; I already told you I don't like him. Go on.” Her face remained expressionless as she inspected her nails. I wasn't the only one good at deflecting.

“Anywho, we get there and she’s like, ‘I can help with this dream thing,’ and I'm like, 'Ehh, worth a try.' So she does this weird ritual and makes me drink an awful concoction and we’re in this dream state when I’m jolted awake, barely able to breathe. Aster was struggling too. Cooper was panicking, and Aster tried to stay calm but was obviously shaken. She couldn’t explain anything and rushed us out.”

"What the fuck? I'm going to kill the asshat for sure; he could have gotten you killed or worse messing with witchy shit. I don’t know if it's real or not, but regardless, you could have gotten hurt. You couldn’t breathe?” Rachel jumped up and paced back and forth, yelling about all the things she would do to Cooper when he got home.

“It’s okay, Rach, calm down. I’m here, alive and well. Well, alive anyway; I’m totally freaked out by what happened, but hey, I volunteered. It was worth a shot to discover any new info I could about my dreams and what they might mean.”

"You don’t get it." Rachel sat back down and took my hand. "Last year nearly destroyed me. You’re my best friend, and we still don’t understand what happened. So messing with witchcraft, which we know even less about, is just asking for more trouble. I thought it was nonsense, but if something so drastic happened from a drink, stay away from it forever, got it? I’d be lost without you, and I’d seriously kill Cooper if anything happened to you on his watch."

“You don’t have to worry, I’m fine. I'm sure Cooper would never let anything happen to me. He was as worried as I was afterward. It didn’t help me in any way work out my dreams, but hey, at the very least now we can say for certain witchy shit is legit, right? Who knew?” I tried to soothe Rachel's anxiety and worry.

“This is not something to joke about. I don't like it one bit. I want you to promise me you will leave it alone now. I know you want answers. We want them for you and are willing to do anything to help, but putting yourself at risk is not worth it. Whether witchy shit is legit or not, if it puts your safety in question, you had better say no.”

The sound of my phone beeping startled us out of our discussion. We both glanced at each other, then laughed at our jumpiness.

“Who the hell is texting me? I never get texts unless it's you or Coop, and you both have specific alerts.”

I walked around the sofa to my studio and grabbed my phone from my bag to check.

“It’s Aster. She's apologizing for last night and wants to make it up to me over coffee or lunch and explain everything.” I read the message as I walked back to the sofa.

“Make what up to you, exactly? Almost killing you? This chick is bad news bears if you ask me. Savi, I’m serious, whether witchcraft is real or not, please don’t get involved. Promise me if you do meet up with her, you won’t let her convince you to do anything else, okay? Promise?”

I stared into the pleading eyes of my best friend and sighed. “Okay, I promise. Coffee sounds nice, but that’s it. I won’t let anything else happen. See, watch, I’ll let you see the text.” I shifted my weight and wiggled closer to Rachel so she could see my phone screen as I typed. “Sounds great, how about coffee on Tuesday? I can meet you at Booker’s Beans on Highland, say about 10 a.m.?"

“Okay, only coffee, Sav, or I swear to God I will kill you myself. There won’t be any need for witchy shit to hurt you. I’ll have Coop help me hide the body too. I’m sure the big oaf knows a good place.” Rachel pushed against my arm with her elbow and laughed.

My phone lit up as a response message popped through. “That is perfect, see you Tuesday!” I read the text aloud again before tucking it in my back pocket. "Okay, that’s settled, no more threatening to unalive me now, mmkay? Wellps, let's get this place cleaned up, shall we?”

Rachel's face squirmed at her displeasure with cleaning. “Ugh, if we must. But you will be the only one handling that mess of a studio.”

“What? I just cleaned it!” I peeked over my shoulder into the dining room behind us to see what Rachel was talking about. “See, it’s clean…ish."

She threw another pillow at me before heading toward the kitchen.