Death, Drag Queens, Defenestration, and the Damned

Ross had given up knocking almost three minutes ago. Zack either wasn’t there or was dead. It was possible, Ross figured, that the man had been spared and only endured some terrible near-death experience, like defenestration or banging his head against cement after hours of Chinese water torture, and was now unconscious within the apartment’s walls.

Ross racked a hand through his hair. Then, annoyed, he turned to glare at the man beside him, who was caking on purple lipstick in front of his pocket mirror. The glare was not unlike one that a woman giving birth might give her husband shortly after being pried off from attempting to strangle him. "Are you sure Zack still lives here, Alex?"

"Alexis." Alexis, clad in an uncommonly short snakeskin skirt and high heels that could be used to kill someone were he in the right mood and position, pursed his lips together. At leisure, and after applying a thin gloss to his lips, he turned towards Ross, making a show of rolling his contact-blue eyes as he huffed in irritation. “Of course I'm sure. I usually come here at least weekly. But it's been...” Alex bit his lower lip in concentration. Ross’ eyes were immediately drawn to the other man’s teeth. They had obviously been bleached. “It’s been almost a month. You're the one who wanted to come at seven. I told you he wasn’t going to answer until the sun is down," Alex said, voice low and trying to appear breathless and sexy.

Ross tapped his foot as the other man spoke, cringing each time Alex paused and half-moaned every other word, and moved his thumbs into the pocket of his jeans. Biting his lower lip in thought, Ross leaned forward to try and peer through the peek hole of the door without luck. Finally, he reached into the pocket of a well-worn cotton jacket that looked to have been saved from a nearby dumpster to take out a paperclip and attempt to pick the lock.

“Are you listening to me? Ross, what are you doing? Ross, don’t.”

“Come on. Reaper-boy’s supposed to have magic, right? There’s probably something in there I could use. He won’t mind if I just borrow it for a little while… Besides. I am not coming at night. How would that look? Coming at midnight with a drag queen. Not to mention you’ll probably wake up the neighborhood trying to get into his pants.”

“No, you won’t come at midnight like that, but you’ll pry open his door – because that just looks so much better. I don’t suppose you have much to lose though, huh? You already know you’re going to die in a month.”

“Little ray of sunshine, aren’t you? This is why people avoid you.”

“Really? And here I was thinking it was because I was in a skirt. You know, Zack’s going to be pissed if – when he finds out.” Alex sighed, adjusting the skirt before gazing up at the other man. “Ross! Stop it!”

Ross ignored the other, straightening it out the paperclip and bending it over to work it behind the lock’s appendage wedged into the wall. “Don’t worry about it, Alex.”

“Alexis.” Deciding this was a time for drastic measures, Alex moved behind the Ross and placed his hands on the other’s shoulders before slipping them down to the man’s chest, where he felt around for the others’ nipples. “What’s wrong, sweetie? Afraid you'd look like a whore? Or worse my big hunk’a man?” Alex purred, pressed close enough behind the other man that his hips aligned with the other’s backside and his breath came from his glitter-laden lips right into Ross’ ear.

Alex’s lips, like the rest of his appearance, looked comprised of nothing natural. Even his complexion seemed off. His voice was no different; he drug the last word in each of his sentences out in a fashion he thought similar to that of Jennifer Tilly’s not-quite-Southern drawl.

Ross dropped his hand from the lock, using it to reach back, and between himself and Alex to give the other man a firm shove back. "Maybe you will... God, Alex, can you just talk normal for once? You sound like a chain smoker."

"Unlike Pretty-Boy here, huh? With the bad dye job... Honey, aqua is not your color."

“It’s blue.”

“Aqua. The blonde from before changed the color. God. Did you perm it, too? Ross, don’t you read the boxes?”

“It’s… fine. Aqua. Just… stop!”

Alex reached forward as Ross stiffened, arms brought up in defense in case the other man closed in again. Grimacing, Alex lifted a few strains of the hair spray drenched thing up with two fingers. “This is disgusting…” he muttered, making a face and jerking his hand back. To his horror, a few blue clumps that the other man dared call hair broke off. "Eww. I bet it was cheap, too."

Ross snatched the strains of hair back and attempted to re-attach them to his head without luck. With a groan of annoyance, Ross tossed them off the stairs and tried banging on the door a few more times.

“Did you try to do that yourself? If not you need to sue. Sweetie, if you’re going to try to perm it and then dye it by yourself, you’ve really got to be careful about what ingredients are in the products you’re using.”

Ross immediately whipped around to Alex and shoved a finger in his face. "Oh, like you're one to talk. You look like… like… Barbie's cross-dressing gay uncle, you know. The one her parents don't like to talk about. Better to be bald than risk flashing the street if I bend over."

"Wearing this doesn't make me gay. Plenty of straight men enjoy cross-dressing. Besides, none of my customers complain."

"No. But the nail polish and fact that 99% of your customers are gay does. You’re the reason most gay men don’t come out until they’re at least sixty."

"Fuck you, and for your information plenty of gay men—”

The door groaned, interrupting them, before making a sharp creak in opening. Then there was a light snap. The door’s chain had pulled apart to its full length and green eyes, blood shot with bags and black circles, peered through the space there. The eyes blinked at the pair, squinting in the sunlight before Zack drew back from the door, shielding his eyes from the sun.

Ross quickly shoved the paperclip into his pocket and gave the man on the other side of the door an awkward smile. “I hope we’re not intruding? We called earlier, but—”

“Eww, Zack,” Alex said pushing Ross back gently to squint at Zack’s eyes. “You seriously need make-up. And sleep.” Zack only groaned in response.

"Shut up, Alex.” Ross gave the other man a less than gentle nudge with his elbow.

“Alexi—“

“Shit,” Zack said. “Alex, didn’t I tell you to wait until at least ten?" Zack fumbled with the chain to get the small piece up to unlock the door while standing at a distance, arm thrown across his eyes. He quickly ducked into the shadows then retreated to the safety of his apartment when it came loose.

“I tried to tell him, but he’s just so stubborn.”

Ross rolled his eyes at the statement, mouthing it back at the other in mockery when Zack’s back was turned.

As the door creaked open, the light from the computer screen, the only light in the entire room, meshed with that from the door. At first the living room seemed to have the appearance of any computer’s geek’s abode. The den was small, and therefore, packed with computer parts. There was a mountain range of piled up energy drink cans and bottles of Vault and Mountain Dew that were strewn across the floor and covered what had once -- at least Ross and Alex hoped -- been a trashcan. The rest of the floor could barely be seen for the stacks of CDs, CD cases, and at least a thousand different computer parts.

On top of the mess and stacked in small piles on the couch were stapled pages. They were titled with names or dates and filled with ones and zeros, or coding, that seemed like an alien language to Ross who had never touched a computer – apart from checking his mail or a quick search – in his life.

However, when the door was half-opened and Alex appeared next to Ross, the room revealed that the entire back wall held a shelf, opposite of the couch, that was packed with vials, jars, and bottles of infinite shapes and sizes. Inside each were colors and… things that Ross doubted he had ever seen – or thought – would be a normal part of the décor of any apartment in his entire life… like the eyes in the largest jars that lined the bottom of the shelf from right to left and were arranged according to color.

It was not the most welcoming place Ross had been. The black curtains on the windows, lined with what Ross assumed was hair, didn’t help add to its appeal. From the look of the white fish in the clouded water of the fishbowl by the computer, turned upwards in their tank and bloated, Zack’s place probably hadn't seen the light of day for more than a few moments at a time since Zack had moved in. The fish’s smell, luckily, only mixed in with the aroma of old, diseased people on the verge of death and herbal tea, instead of engulfing the apartment. Ross doubted it had been cleaned since then either. Aside from the cans and fish, the carpet in most spots was barely visible under the mountains of junk heaped upon it and likely collecting since the beginning of time.

On the other wall, with its Jackson Pollock splatters of paint and still shaded by the door, there was what looked to be a scythe placed on two hooks above the couch with a dark robe thrown over its handle like a towel. On one of the hooks there was a bag, with golden yarn braided through the openings and into hoops to hold on to. Either this man was psychotic with an odd collection, Ross thought, or Alex just might have been right about the whole ‘Yeah, the guy who burns my porn is death’ deal. It was a stupid thing to go along with, sure, but he was desperate. And if nothing else, it would entertain him for the night.

Besides that, and apart from crossdressing, Alex proved to be decent company. He could get him free beer at the place he worked, even if Ross tended to get hit on by a majority of the men. Not to mention Alex could hook him up with one of his female friends no problem so long as he claimed that, yeah, Ross was totally gay, he just didn’t like to talk about it as he was still in his ‘coming out of the closet’ stage.

Ross wasn’t exactly sure that he didn’t believe the man could be Death anyway. That was what worried him… along with his whole issue of randomly getting glances into the future that had earned him a rather sweet spot on a television show. Even if the show did come on at four in the morning on an obscure channel that he had never quite bothered to learn the name of, he still got a second glance from the odd balls of the town. There was no fucking way he was psychic, though. But if going along with it got him his fifteen minutes of fame and paid the bills… who was he to complain.

Still. It was strange. So, just to be safe, he had blamed it all on a mixture of his subconscious, stress, odd sleeping schedule, over-active imagination, and an obsession with coffee that bordered on addiction. Nothing magic about it – nothing weird about him. It was normal for humans to have that sixth sense about people they were close to being in trouble. Or be a little psychotic from work.

At least he didn’t slip up as much as he used to and pry into people’s personal lives – that was what everyone really hated – or at least what he hated... Like the time he had asked his mother if she was really thinking about divorcing dad, and she had ended up giving him the ‘every-mom-thinks-about-it-at-some-point-honey’ speech. It had lead to a discussion on how if he really wanted a woman to stay, he’d learn how to sexually please her with his mouth else she considered running off with the pool boy. That traumatizing-for-any-seven-year-old event had gotten him to watch his mouth and really concentrate on what people really were saying, instead of what they seemed to be thinking.

Not that his mother’s advice hadn’t gotten him through high school.

Ross gazed over at both men, who had been watching him critically eye the scythe as though the thing was going to come out at him like a wild boar with rabies and a taste for human flesh. He gave both an awkward smile and pulled himself away from it after a quick glance backwards. “ You have a … nice place. It’s very… original. So, you’re Zack,” Ross said holding out a hand. “I’m—“

“Yeah, I know. Ross.” Ross blinked and opened mouth to respond, letting out a small sound. Zack grinned and quickly added, “I heard Alex say it outside the door.”

Zack, unlike the apartment and Alex, looked normal, and Ross welcomed the change. Alex had to have been joking around. This was all just some crazy scheme to distract him from what had brought him here in the first place. They were just going to laugh it off, have a beer, then probably play cards… or Dungeons & Dragons, Ross thought looking over Zack’s long-sleeved ‘Love me, I’m an Half-Elf!’ shirt that was poorly in need of ironing.

"What?" Alex asked draping his arms around Zack's shoulders. "I called to tell you we might be coming early. Are you not done burning my CD yet?"

Because the ... woman was his best customer, Zack endured the embrace, staying frozen so he would not encourage Alex, who was rubbing his toilet-paper-and-sock breasts against him and attempting to slip his hands into the backside of Zack’s pants "No. I'm almost done. Your stuff is burning now."

Ross smirked, relieved that he was not the only one constantly being felt up by the other man, as he sat down on the arm of the couch. He scooted towards the wall, well away from Alex’ attempts to become better acquainted with Zack.

Zack gave the other a miserable look over Alex’s shoulder. “Ross, go ahead and push that shit on the couch off. I’m finished with it – everything’s in order and clipped together, so don’t worry about messing anything up. I just keep forgetting to mail it off.”

Alex turned Zack’s chin back so the other man was facing him and pressed a small kiss on Zack’s cheek. “It’s been so long since I was last over here. And, God, have you let yourself go. Your hair is so long… Really, Zack, this ponytail isn’t going to do. How about I bring some scissors over tomorrow… and a little hair-gel. We can spike it up. Or! We could keep it down, trim it, and then brush it out – God knows you probably haven’t done that in a while, have you? And your hair’s black – very nice with your skin and eye color. We’ll make you look like… Louis – you know, the gay vampire? Played by Brad Pitt.” Alex paused, biting his lower lip. “I could just eat him!”

“Really, Alex, I’m fine,” Zack said stepping back only to be followed by Alex. “I don’t go out that much anyway.”

“Well, you need to.”

“I know, but –“

“You’d make a sexy goth. Your skin is perfect for it – not that you don’t need more sun, because you do.”

“Alex, I—“

“Well, if you really want to keep the ponytail, we can brush it out, then find a nice bow for it. Maybe dress you in one of those frilly pirate shirts. I love those.” Alex slid his hands up the other man’s chest, occasionally pinching his nipples. “You’re going to be so sexy, you know that?”

“Alex – Alexis, I really have to check on those files. And, um, oh! I left my cable plugged in the… the thing.” Zack pulled away from the other man and hurried to scramble to the computer before Alex argued.

Straddling the computer chair, and feeling thoroughly violated by the other man, Zack waited for the pair to get situated before he spoke. “Is it too dark in here for you? Sorry, I forgot to… Let me turn on the lamp.” He scooted his chair back towards the computer, flicked a switch on the wall next to it, and a dim light filled the room.

The apartment, Ross thought gazing around now that he could actually see all of it, was… less than glamorous with its peeling paint and… bloodstain spotted carpet and walls. Ross scooted back from the wall he was pressed against after spying what looked to be bits of brain, or old pizza, and into Alex.

Alex smiled at the other man, tut-tutting and moving one arm around Ross’ shoulders and dipping his free hand into the close-to-hyperventilating man’s lap. “What’s wrong, did you see a spider? Don’t worry. Zack has tons of them, but they don’t bite. They won’t even get on you unless you want them to. They just help to keep the place clean.”

“Good thing, too,” Zack said sorting through his computer desk’s drawer for a marker and not bothering to look up as he spoke. “Otherwise this place would be covered in blood. People always have to be difficult when they’re about to die. So, eventually, the only way I can get them in one place so that no one has to see the whole fiasco is to make it seem like I’ll give them a deal – you know, add on a few years to their life – and then bam. There’s either a head rolling on my carpet or intestine on my wall.”

Ross’ eyes had grown by at least an inch in diameter and his hand griped Alex’s hard enough that the man’s circulation was cut off and a blue – comparably to Ross’ hair – now surfaced.

Alex only grimaced, allowing the squeezing in hopes that Ross would eventually realize that his hand was probably numb by now. Idly, Alex stroked Ross’ hair as he spoke. “Oh, Zack, I know. People these days are so inconsiderate. I mean, why can’t they just let you do your job or at least go about this like mature adults and talk about it instead of – Ross, hun, could you loosen up a little? You’re cutting off my circulation – talk about it instead of putting you through hell – if you’ll excuse the pun.” Alex brought his hand up, with Ross’ own still attached, and glared at the other. “Rosselyn.”

“Well, that is where most of them are going, you know,” Zack said, gazing over at Ross to try to let him in on the joke. Ross only whimpered in response, pressing himself against Alex in order to speak against the man’s ear. Into he mumbled that, fuck this, he wanted to go home. In fact, it was a matter of life and death that he got home. Now.

“Let’s go, Alex.”

“Come on, Ross. You’re over-reacting,” Alex said tugging Ross back to the couch. “Sit down.”

“Like hell I’m over-reacting,” Ross hissed into the other man’s ear, sinking his nails into the other’s wrist. “Come on. We’re going. Your friend is psychotic.”

“For keeping spiders? Ross, you’re over-reacting, sit.”

Zack blinked. “…Is he okay?”

“I don’t know… I guess. I didn’t know he so many issues with spiders,” Alex said trying to pry the other’s fingers off his wrist. “Ross, you really have to let go. Ross, you do know what I use that hand for, right? Come on, Ross, that usually gets you off… oh! Oh, did you hear that? I made a pun. Oh, that’s amusing, isn’t it? Ross? Ross, are you listening? You’re… shit! Get off!”

Zack was silent, watching Alex work his own fingers under Ross’ hand and drag the other’s fingers off, leaving angry welts from the man’s nails in their absence. Alex grasped Ross’ wrists before his own were impaled again.

At length, and when Ross had finally stopped trying to fling Alex’s hands off and was instead plotting his escape route, Zack spoke. "There's some wine in the kitchen if he needs something to calm him down. And if he really needs it – and believe me, it looks like he does – I have some pot.”

“Oh, dear God, yes. Can I have some of that?” Ross asked, turning to face Zack and speaking frantically. That had to be what it was. He was just… really stoned right now from all the drugs that were in the room. So what could a few more hurt? Besides, if the other really did bring him here so that Zack could kill him there wouldn’t be any pain. “Please?”

“All right. Let me find my stash.” Zack smiled at the other man, standing to move to the miniature bookshelf on the other side of the room and pluck out an enormous book with ease. “The Philosophy of Life… oddly appropriate, wouldn’t you say?” he asked opening the cover and plucking out a bag and lighter. From the bag, he took out a joint, then offered Alex one. “Want one, too?”

“Love one, but I’ve got to get him home.”

“Take one for later, then. I get them free.”

“Thanks, you’re a doll, you know.” Alex grinned at Zack and released Ross, who nearly dropped the joint in his hurry to light it. Then, he tugged Zack down for a quick kiss on the forehead. “Oh, hey, how much do I owe you for the CD?"

"Don't worry about it. We all need our fix, and, besides, you get me plenty of business – in both of my occupations, if you know what I mean..." Zack winked.

As though sensing Alex was ready to jump Zack, the computer beeped, indicating the disk was done. “It’s done, let me… yeah.” Zack untangled himself from Alex to package the disk and hand it to the man from his computer chair. “If anyone else asks, it's about thirty bucks now – depending on what they want on there. Oh, and I don’t do furries or anything involving excretion. Beastality and watersports are fine, but I have to draw the line somewhere.”

"Thanks, darling," Alexis said standing to leave for the kitchen. “Now that you mention it, I think I will have a glass of that wine. Want one?” He paused near Zack’s chair, leaning down to press his lips, lined with a too bright purple, against the man's cheek and leave a glittery stain there.

“I suppose. You know… I don’t mind if you both stay the night. It’ll give you a chance to smoke and we can talk about… the thing you brought him here for. I honestly don’t know if he… if he’s what I’m looking for…” Zack said glancing over to Ross. The man curled himself against the far end of the couch where Alex had been and was already approaching the end of his joint so that he had to keep pulling his fingers away to avoid being burned. Seeing Alex looking at him, Ross smiled awkwardly and reached for an ashtray.

“There’s some stuff in the kitchen to snack on – pretzels and shit…And the bedroom’s free if you don’t mind sharing,” Zack said, mostly to get both men out of his apartment, as he was sure Ross would never stand for it. Ross gave the other man a death glare – at least as much of one as he could manage while whipping his head over to the scythe every so often – and mouthed ‘you fucker’ when Alex had turned.

Zack left the lipstick, noting that he could get it off once the other was gone, and hurried to turn to Ross as an excuse to avoid any more of Alex’s grape lip gloss and attempts at affection.

Ross opened his mouth to speak when Zack turned to him but was cut off. "So, Ross." Zack paused and seemed to be calculating some thing in his head. "That’s short for Rosselyn, right? Right. You came to ask me if I'd be willing to add a few years on to your life, huh?"

Ross opened his mouth to speak but was cut off. "I'm afraid that unless you make it worth my time I can't do that. And I don’t think you have the power to make many things worth my time... All a pack of energy drinks is going to get you is my eternal thanks and a good word to The Man about your reincarnation. You see, letting you or anyone else live upsets the whole balance of life and death thing. It’s like… like Jenga blocks. You pull one out, it has to be replaced or everything comes crashing down. Come here. Let me show you something."

Zack turned in his chair and directed Ross' attention to the screen. "See this coding – Ross come here, I’m not going to hurt you, I swear. You have at least a month before it’s going to happen.”

“Less than a month,” Ross corrected, though he did move behind the other to look at the computer screen.

“Really? Are you sure? Let me… Ross, you’re shaking. Relax. It’s not that bad, I promise. And in a little while you’re going to feel amazing, drugged. Death’s not any worse than that… I promise.”

“I know. But that doesn’t mean I want to die.”

“No one does.”

An awkward silence passed between both men before Ross spoke up and pointed to the screen. “What’s that?”

“Nothing important, just HTML. Now... when I upload this, see how nice this webpage is? I remove just one line of coding here, though, and... tada. There's no frames and you can't link to anything."

“I see.” Ross fell silent. He seemed to mulling over the situation in his mind, searching for some sort of loophole or assurance that this wasn’t happening and soon an army of strippers would come in to save him. Then he’d wake up. But hopefully not too soon; he particularly liked those dreams. “Can’t you do something, anything, though? Isn’t there anything I can do? Maybe I can…”

Zack’s lashes flicked over green eyes, as he looked the man over, trying to read him. Picking up on something, his eyes widened. “No! You’re not buying me off with – God. That’s something Alex would do. I mean, Ross… Jesus. I'd like to promise you a few more years, but I can't. The Man picks who’s going to die and when. I just work on the details. You know. The hows, why’s, where’s. That stuff. And, eventually, I get a system running.”

Zack opened another file and moved back to let Ross see it. “This is the whole database, Ross. One minute. Let me scroll up. God. Fuck this. Let me search. There. See this? That’s you talking to me. All those little ones and zeros are creating possibilities and decisions that will affect everyone else. That’s your brain there on the screen." He minimized the window. "Want me to bring up your file specifically?"

Ross blinked. "So... So Alex—"

"Alexis," the man said as he returned, passing out glasses of wine to both men and having a seat on the arm of the couch to have a sip of his own wine and light his joint.

"So Alex wasn't kidding when he said you—you were…"

"Well I do; I am. Well, I’m one of them. One of the main ones, actually. I think they’re calling us all the Grim Reaper now. I prefer Death, though. It’s a lot more concise, don’t you think? And it has that ring to it. But I don't control anything important. I mostly just make sure people die the way they’re supposed to. So I can't really help you, Ross. You've got too big of an impact on peoples' lives. I'm sorry. I know it’s probably not the most… reassuring news to know you're going to die and all that, but I can't help celebrities and psychics at all. It's a rule. And you're both."

“Oh, come now, Zack,” Alex said reaching over to stroke Ross’ hair. “That can’t possibly count. He … he’s barely ever seen. He’s a television psychic on at Sundays through Thursdays after midnight. And none of his predictions are hardly ever real – I told you how particular he is about that sort of thing. That just… that can’t count. You’re sure?”

“Afraid so…” Zack brushed the items off a stool, his makeshift table, and pulled it forward for Ross to sit on. "Not even dyeing your hair blue—“

“It’s aqua,” Alex said, then, paused for a sip of wine. “And don’t touch it, or he’ll be bald sooner than the end of this week.”

“Not even dyeing your hair aqua is going to cover up the fact that you're Ross Rowe – television psychic. The only thing I can do is offer reincarnation from The Man. You'd get a completely new life, right? But you wouldn't be able to act or... well. You'd change. You’re not even going to be psychic. You wouldn’t know Alex.”

“Not that that’s a bad thing,” Ross muttered.

“Yeah…” Zack grinned, stapling the sheet he printed and handing it to Ross.

Alex glared.. “Hey, that’s not nice especially when I’m trying t—“

“Either way,” Zack cut in, “that’s all your information. That should tell you exactly when you’re going to die. And how. Luckily for you you’re going to die quickly. No mess and fuss. And, hopefully, no interference from me. Since you’ve got some time… enjoy yourself. Okay?”

“But…” Zack continued, “After the time on that sheet, Ross Rowe can't exist anymore. And if it comes to it, I'm going to have to put on that black robe over there and get out the scythe to see to it that you don't. That's my job. And if I don't, another Death will.”

“So there’s nothing at all you can do? Not even… Nothing?”

“Well… there is an alternative… But I don’t know if you’d… be able to handle it what with your behavior earlier.”

“He’ll be fine,” Alex said. “Just tell him.”

“Well… If you’re really that serious about a few more years, I might be willing to work something out if you’re willing to – What? Stop. Just… stop what you’re thinking. God, not that! I was thinking you could take my place for a while and give me a vacation not… Why do your thoughts always go back to that?”

“He’s repressed, horribly.” Alex grinned, moving his arms around Ross’ shoulders and urging him to drink more of the wine. “Relax. I handled everything for you. Just listen to what Zack has to say. Tell him what you want, Zack.”

“I need you to work for me, take someone’s spot temporarily. If you do, there’s no possible way you can die. There’s still the possibility of going to hell, of course, though I doubt you’ll have to worry about that – it takes a lot to get in there now. Mostly just people who are bitter about God. He’s not such a bad guy once you get to know him though.”

“Either is Lucifer. A little moody, but he’s hot though. I did him.” Alex smirked, taking a drag of his joint and passing it to Ross as the man seemed to need it more than he did. Ross sighed, taking it, and for once leaned back into the other man’s embrace.

“Fuck.”

“Tell me about it. He had this head of long, black hair. And these amazing fingernails… You wouldn’t believe how–”

“Another time, Alex,” Zack said, once an application was pulled up. “You won’t die. Your body will change a little, but you still get to stay on earth – you still get a physical body, everything. The only thing is, you can’t die. At least not by anything natural. The Man can kill you, though, if you apply for it. You have to go through all this paperwork and … it’s just annoying. It took the last guy almost a decade. For now, the position’s temporary. I know it doesn’t seem like there’s a lot to worry about, but if we can’t find anyone, I’m afraid you’re stuck until someone else takes the job – someone qualified. And believe me, psychics don’t just pop up all the time.”

At the mention of the word, Ross had stood. “I… I can’t do this right now, okay? I’m sure I should… I mean… I should be calm, right? But… I…” Ross raked a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry.”

“I tell you what. I’ll wait for you to decide on it. But remember. Alex is going to help you. You won’t do it alone. That’s more than the last guy can say. And Alex knows how, what I do. He can train you a lot better than I can. He’s around people more.”

“I suppose that’s good but I … I need to think about it. I can’t be here right now.”

Before Alex or Zack could respond, Ross thanked Zack and hurried out the door as much as the mess covering it would allow. Alex sighed, turning to blow a quick kiss to Zack before slipping out the door. “Ross. Ross, come here. Let’s stay the night at least. The spiders aren’t going to… Ross, you’re over-reacting.”

“I’m going home, Alex.” Ross said on the stairs. “I don’t want to be anywhere near that place.” With that, Ross turned the corner of the street in front of the building to the bus stop where he found the bus ready to pull off.

“Just… leave me worry about it by myself. It’s my problem, not yours.”

“All right. Fine. But… I’m coming with you. You can’t just ignore this, you know. The dying… thing. And your arachnophobia.”

The passengers on the bus turned to stare at Alex, who pulled on his skirt before having a seat next to Ross and across from a blue-eyed girl who could have easily been mistaken for a real life version of Alex’s plastic doll look…minus the make-up. The girl stared, eyes wide, before there was a glimpse of what looked to be underwear when Alex made himself comfortable. The girl’s mother immediately attempted to cover her eyes with a sound of disgust. “Anna, you stop starring!”

“Momma, you never let me wear skirts that short. That’s not fair! That’s not… Boys get everything.”

“Hush!” the mother hissed, glaring in Alex’s general direction.

Alex rolled his eyes before turning in his seat and leaning forward. “If I may…?”

The mother began to protest but, seeing that Alex was not one to back down, at length moved her hands away from the girl’s eyes. “My friend Ross, here? See him, he’s sulking over there by the window. Silly, isn’t he? His mother is the same way. Makes him wear pants all the time. But just between you and me? He gets all the guys. They go for that sort of thing, you know. That strong, I’m-not-trying-to-impress-you independence and being comfortable with oneself and their preferred clothing thing? They’re like flies to honey. Tonight, I actually think I’m going to borrow some of his clothing before we go out. See if it does anything. And you… why don’t you try it, too? We’ll compare notes next time we see each other? You’re new here, right?”

“Yeah.” Anna grinned, exposing braces. “Really? You’ll do that with me? And he really gets all the guys?” She gave Alex a look, head tilted and trying to determine whether the man was lying.

“Uh huh. Ross, don’t you get all the guys so that I have to set you up with girls so I get a few?”

“Wish I didn’t,” Ross grumbled.

“See? Told you he got all the guys. He’s not interested in them, though. That really is a shame. But trust me. I bet anything it’s going to work.”

“Momma, you have to get me some of those tight pants, too. That way I’ll get all the guys.”

“They aren’t tight!” Ross protested.

Alex huffed. “They are...” Seeing the mother’s expression, he quickly added, “Are not.”

“They’re right,” the mother said. “Even he… she… that nice person that agrees with me.” The mother wrapped an arm around the girl’s shoulders and mouthed ‘thank you’ to Alex when Anna began to talk.

“Momma, can I make my hair blue, too?”

“Oh, God, don’t do that!” Alex said turning away from Ross again. “He dyed it and permed it and now it’s falling out. It was so much prettier before – like a shorter version of yours. Much longer with these amazing curls…”

Ross snorted, giving Alex’s shoulder a small nudge and leaned over to whisper in his ear. “Stop making that girl a lesbian.”

“I’m not!” Seeing both the mother and girl glance in his direction, he added, “Not… sure… that short hair would work on me. But how about, I try out your look for a week and then switch back in after if it isn’t for me? Oh, and let's go out for ice cream tonight, Ross… At least if you can handle it after … today… and what you had…”

“Fair enough. And, come on, Alex. I’ll be fine. I don’t think it’s even in my system yet… I mean – I’m going to feel it eventually, but – Whatever, it’s not important. “ Ross smiled at Alex, who waved at Anna and her mother as they got off. “I never did get to thank you for getting me that deal earlier.”

“Don’t worry about it. Have you decided what you’re going to do yet?”

“Maybe. If your help is anything like your lying, I should be fine.”