* I've been watching too many romance k-dramas on Netflix -- which, to me, feel like early 2000 rom-coms, which I loved and still do -- and, for whatever reason, this story popped in my head and has taken over for the past two days. I don't know how long the writing bug is going to last or exactly where this story is going, but here's what I've got...
Check out all the chapters by clicking HER(fix)E
CHAPTER ONE: DEVIL'S BARGAIN- PART ONE
Harri Wren hung her head and groaned. “I don’t know what to do.” She glared at the bubbles swirling in her glass. “Nate keeps calling and texting me.” She shoved the fizzy drink away, wishing she could order something stronger. But she’d never been good at holding her alcohol, so that probably wouldn’t be a good idea. Last time she’d had more than half a drink, she’d ended up passed out in the coat check closet, woken up only when some poor soul needed their parka back. “We broke up;” she sulked at her work friend, Megan Jones, “shouldn’t that mean we stop seeing each other all the time?”
Megan looked at her sympathetically. “Well, it doesn’t exactly help that he lives next door to you, so it’s not like you can really ignore or avoid him.” She shook her head. “What are you going to do?”
Do? What could she do? “I can’t move.” She’d been living at her place for years now; it was her home. Her sanctuary. It had all her stuff, exactly where and how she wanted it. And, Lord knew, she’d never find as nice a place with rent as low as she paid right now. “And I doubt he will.” Even if Nate wanted to — which he certainly didn’t seem to — he’d just renewed his lease last month. She doubted he’d break it over their breakup.
Harri huffed miserably. “Should I change my number?” And her email. And what about her social media? While they’d been dating, they’d both wanted him to have every opportunity possible to contact her, and her to him. She’d given him as much access to her as she could. But now that they were done, it seemed impossible to shut him out again. Ugh, and would that even make a difference? He still lived next door! “What can I do?”
“You could get a new boyfriend,” Megan said before taking a distracted sip of her wine as she looked around. “Do you see our waiter? I’m starving and we’ve been waiting for our food for, like, an hour now.”
Harri pouted. How could Megan think about food while Harri’s life was falling apart? “I don’t know where our waiter is.” Harri doubted she could even eat right now, she was so miserable. “How am I supposed to get a new boyfriend?” It’d been hard enough to date Nate.
Harri was pretty sure she simply wasn’t any good at it. Dating. Attraction. Love. She’d thought that, with enough time, she and Nate would get on the same page — would want the same things, would know each other more, would fit together better — but, even after a year, they just hadn’t.
Maybe she wasn’t cut out for relationships. She scowled as she glared into her glass. “Why does the solution to having one guy I don’t want around have to be getting another one?”
Swirling her drink, Megan scoffed. “Because guys like Nate won’t stop unless he thinks there’s someone else there to stop him.” She rolled her eyes. “Remember how persistent he was at the beginning of your relationship? He kept knocking on your door all the time with the worst excuses. ‘Can you help me with the washing machines?’ ‘I’m having trouble with the oven?’ Hell, he even asked you for a cup of sugar; who actually does that? Just go to the store, you creep.”
Harri rolled her eyes. “You said it was literally the sweetest thing, at the time.”
“At the time, it was. It was so obviously a poorly veiled excuse to see you.” Megan shrugged and finished her wine. “Now that you two are over, it’s weaponized incompetence as a flirting strategy.”
Harri shook her head. This is why she rarely dated. None of the so-called rules made sense, even though everyone acted like they should. And Megan wanted her to get into another complicated relationship, after just ending this one? No, she couldn’t do it. She grimaced. “I shouldn’t have to date someone else just to get Nate to back off; that makes no sense.” She’d told him it was over — several times and in several ways now — that should be enough.
Megan nodded and flagged down another server. “We shouldn’t have to grab another waiter’s attention just to get our food but, if it gets us what we want, isn’t that all that matters in the end?”
*
“What do you mean, I’m fired?” Azel Brimm rushed through the kitchen, following his manager. “What did I do?”
Richard shook his head and pushed through the bustle of workers. “I’ve had it with the hassle of having a demon like you here. Either we’re swamped with customers who hang around all night, barely ordering anything, just to fawn over and flirt with you or we get complaints from them saying you’ve seduced, swindled, and cursed them.” He threw his hand up in the air. “I’m sick of it. We all are.”
Azel shook his head. “I’m great with customers. I get more tips than anyone else here.”
Richard scoffed. “Of course you do, with all those… succubus powers and all.”
Azel stiffened, his bound wings twitching with frustration. “I have never used my incubus powers on a customer. You really think I’d risk jail time for extra tips?!”
Richard grunted. “All I know is that customers are complaining that you sneak into their dreams at night, compelling them to come back here.”
Azel rolled his eyes. “I’m not even a dream incubus; I dealt in contracts.” He literally couldn’t sneak into anything. Never — not once in all his existence — had he ever done anything to anyone that they didn’t ask — beg, plead, and trade away their souls — for. The people who fell for him did so with their eyes wide open.
Richard waved his hands dismissively. “Whatever you are, it’s bad for business, so get your stuff and get out.”
“But I need this job!” Azel had tried working other jobs. Office jobs claimed, with his wings and horns, he wasn’t professional enough. Retail jobs claimed he was too distracting, causing chaos in the stores. The best he could do was a minimum-wage waiter job at a small, corner pub in the downtown office district. For six months, he’d spent all his nights smiling and serving happy-hour gluttons and late-night drunks. He’d sidestepped wandering hands and people throwing themselves at him. And, if they weren’t doing that, they were looking down at him for being an evil, dirty, good-for-nothing demon.
Truth be told, Azel fucking hated this job. But even demons needed to eat. Hell, he even had bills to pay now. He needed this job.
Richard glared at him. “And I need to get through dinner service so I can deal with the recent onslaught of bad online reviews we’ve gotten because of you. So get out or you can kiss your last paycheck goodbye.”
Shit. If he really was getting fired, he’d need that paycheck. “I’m halfway through my shift; what about my tables right now? Can I at least finish out the night?”
Richard shook his head. “I’ve already split them between Jack and Marilyn. Just go home.”
Damnit. Azel turned to grab his stuff and leave, but the idea of walking through the back area, past all his now-former coworkers… No, he’d just go out the front. Slip out with all the customers. Maybe check his tables for tips.
Zipping his oversized jacket over his wings and uniform, he headed out onto the floor. He winced as the busy pub’s noise hit him through the opened door. He’d always hated how loud this job was. It might be kitchen sounds and boisterous bar talk, but the cacophony — no matter how ordinary or even joyful — always reminded him of the pandemonium of Hell. Even happiness, with enough of it and when it wasn’t yours, could feel like torture.
He shook his head. Just grab any cash and get out. But, looking at the tables, most of his customers either hadn’t closed out their tabs yet or had paid by card. Azel stared at the sad fistful of small bills in his hands. It was barely enough to pay for the bus ride home. Great.
“So just find someone to fake a relationship with you, if you don’t want a real one then.”
He looked up at table 12 and the two lonely-hearted women drinking their worries away. They’d been there since the end of the workday, eating and drinking and gossiping, and had racked up an impressive bill. Damn, that would have been a nice tip to collect on. But it didn’t look like they were slowing down anytime soon.
“With whom?” the other woman grumbled. She was slumped over on the table now full of appetizers, entrees, and desserts. A veritable feast of misery. Azel could barely see her over it all; she was just a tangle of black hair and pale-skinned limbs. “It’s not as if I know anyone who’d do that kind of thing for me. How would you even go about asking someone about that?”
The other woman, blond and a bit sloppy from her third glass of wine, threw back her hair. “Then why not hire someone to do it?”
The other woman scoffed and sat back, leaning so far that she was practically facing the wall behind her. “Hire someone? What makes you think I would even know where to start to look for somewhere that — what — rents boyfriends?” She paused and tilted her head in curiosity, still staring at the ceiling. “Where would someone find someplace that did that?”
“The internet, where else?” The blond laughed. “Why? Are you really thinking about it?”
The dark-haired woman sat up straight. “No, of course not.” Azel straightened too, his breath catching slightly. It was the first time he’d really looked at her. She wasn’t pretty. Not really. Her features, hidden behind nicely framed if smudged glasses, were so soft, they bordered on bland. Her prim, expensive-looking clothes were professional to be sure, but were frankly beigely boring. Even the way she held herself begged a person’s gaze not to linger too long on her. But there was something about her that pricked Azel’s senses.
Desperation.
He could feel it echo through her, filling every inch of her while leaving her devastatingly empty. It sparked his old instincts, that part of himself that craved another person’s weakness, that urged him to take it and use it for his own survival.
Shutting his eyes, he turned away. No. He couldn’t give in to that side of himself. While not exactly approved of before the amnesty agreement, after it, it was now illegal for demons to draw up fiendish contracts with humans. Ones like he used to do — soul deals — could be punishable by life in prison. And demons could live a long time. Azel shivered at the thought of a seemingly endless sentence wasting away in a magical detention facility. It wasn’t worth it.
“…Definitely not.”
Azel wanted to groan, hearing her definitive words wavering with weak indecision that mirrored his own. It would be so easy for them both to falter. So temptingly simple.
No. Go home. He’d need to get up tomorrow and find a new job. He didn’t have time for this.
“Shit!” The blond gripped her phone, typing furiously. “My roommate said a pipe exploded in our apartment and our place is drenched. I gotta go. I’m so sorry.” The blond grabbed her bag and coat. “Sorry to leave you with the check. Tell me the amount and I’ll pay you back.”
The dark-haired woman grunted and waved the other woman off. “Don’t worry about it. Just get home. I hope it’s not too bad. Call me later.”
Knowing the tab’s likely amount, Azel marveled at how easily the dark-haired woman dismissed it like it was nothing. He wondered what it felt like to live that comfortably. To not have to worry, paycheck to paycheck. Must be nice.
The two said their goodbyes, before the dark-haired woman fingered the blond’s empty wine glass longingly. On instinct and before his brain could tell him it was a bad idea, Azel walked up to her table. “I can get you another glass, if you’d like.”
Shocked, she sat up straighter. “I didn’t realize you were still on duty. They’d said you left.”
He shrugged. “Still here. Do you want a refill on the wine?”
She touched the empty glass before pushing it away. “I shouldn’t; I’m fine.”
She wasn’t; he could tell. He leaned in, giving her a look that had seduced sinners for centuries. “It’s on the house.” His demonic instincts could feel her desire for it, felt her be drawn to it. All she needed was a nudge and that dark side of him, that had sat so dormant for so long, felt primed to push.
She adjusted her glasses and studied him, her dark eyes suddenly sharpening, making them sparkle. Making them almost pretty. “I didn’t realize you did free refills with wine.”
He grinned. “I won’t tell, if you don’t.” After all, what could Richard do to him? Fire him?
Biting her lips, she frowned. “I get drunk easily.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Off one drink?”
She shrugged and nodded. “Yeah.” She sat back away from it. “Thanks, but I’ll just take the check now please.”
“What about another soda?” he asked, the soda glass refilling as he laid his hand on the table. “Or another slice of cake?” The cake they’d eaten rematerialized on the plate. Azel felt the familiar crackle of his powers as they flowed from his fingertips.
What was he doing?! Using his powers in public like this, if not strictly illegal — not over paltry magic like this — was risky, at best. Humans — and plenty of magical beings as well — were wary of demons, sure they were always up to no good. For good reason.
He needed to get out of here. Away from this woman and whatever emptiness inside her that called to him. That made him feel reckless.
He sat down at the table in the seat her friend had left. “Or how about something more interesting?”
READ PART TW(fix)O
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