Billy's Halloween (pt 6)

“Elvira, Mistress of the Dark. Frightful to meet you. Mine’s a double blood.”

“This is what we’re taking photos against? Impressive, I like it. Very spooky. Okay, first customer huh? Alright, get in here; big smiles, show off those fangs!”

“You’re in HR? Lemme guess, you got a complaint about me groping someone. Well, I got news for you sister – I don’t even work here after tonight. Take it up with my agent!”

“Hey DJ, can you play something a little funkier? My new friend and I wanna do the Monster Mash!”

“A tip? For me? You’re sweet, honey – just tuck it in right there. Ohhh, now you know where the cash goes, for some reason you wanna tip me?! Surprise surprise!”

“Is that right? It’s funny because I remember watching you in your bedroom late at night and let me tell ya, that wasn’t a pretty sight. Loved the posters though! Were you really that into hair metal?”

“I know right! Back when I was on TV they used to throw any old shoes at me. I had to tell them ‘Knock it off with the shoe throwing!’ These days I like to treat myself, and what’s better than a pair of these Louboutins, huh?”

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer! Oh what’s that? You took one? Well then get over here and get in the next one, sheesh!”

“Yes, they’re real. And they’re spectacular. Don’t you agree?”

“Trust me honey, love potions never work. The best you can hope for is Viagra, and I should know, I’ve mixed up the two a few times.”

“Why thank you, and you’re not wrong, they are a deathtrap, frankly. But then again I have an iron maiden in my bedroom so I’m used to living with danger. That said, why do we subject ourselves to this sort of footwear? Oh yeah, to trap a rich husband!”

“My favorite monster? Well, I was always kind of partial to Frankenstein – or should I say, Frankenstein’s monster. He’s exactly what I want in a man; tall, strong, and instead of boring me with conversation, he just moans!”

“No, no, no – you’re thinking of Morticia Addams. That’s okay, people get us mixed up all the time. In fact I even ended up in bed with Gomez one night, but that’s a whole other story.”

“The secret to my success? Well I’m pretty sure it’s to not take any shit from anyone, or at least that’s what my pastor used to say. It’s either that or something from the Magic 8-Ball, depends on my mood.”

“Under the covers? That’s where you watched me from? C’mon now, are you really going to try to convince me that you were all tucked in with your Ovaltine? Don’t worry pal, you’re not even the first guy tonight to basically admit I was his first crush – or even the first girl!”

“Take it from me, and I have the Wolfman on speed dial – hair on men is underrated. It is! Get them to grow it in and it’ll give you something to hang onto. And when you shave them, you can make it into a rug, or a shawl or even a scarf. Practical and stylish!”

“Another drink for me? Well, if you insist, but if you give me any more I might have to think you’re trying to get me drunk. Which I heartily approve of, by the way. Cheers!”

///

Billy sank into the welcoming embrace of a soft couch set up in the corner of the room, a little distance from the continuing bass thump of the DJ’s set. While it wasn’t quite the ‘behind the curtain’ experience he had enjoyed at Comic-Con, it was quiet (ish) and had unoccupied seats. It would do.

Posing as Elvira ‘on top’ of Linda for the last ninety or so minutes had left him exhausted. He’d circulated nonstop, posing for selfies, making risqué remarks and frankly, dumb boomer jokes for the assembled tech crowd. His calves felt like they were on fire, his voice was growing increasingly hoarse and his breast forms, convincingly weighted as they were, were definitely starting to take a toll on his back.

While he knew he couldn’t slack off for too long, he took the opportunity to at least slip his feet from the Louboutins, flexing his toes. He’d have killed for a foot massage – and was pretty sure he could get one if he just asked – but he wanted a moment to himself, such as it was. He wondered if he should head to the restroom to give himself a break, but before he could move, someone else sat down in a nearby seat, barely an arm’s length away.

It was Dracula, if when you think of Dracula, you think of Bela Lugosi’s performance in the original Universal movie. Recognizing this man specifically as Lugosi’s count was fairly easy, as his costume was quite accurate from what Billy could remember. As well as the black pants, black jacket, polished shoes, long black cape with red lining and the rest of his tuxedo-like look, he’d also made the time to slick back his hair (black, naturally), coat his face in pale makeup and even put in a pair of fangs that didn’t look like cheap plastic. On the basis of the effort alone, Billy was impressed. He’d only had to do a little more to become Linda, then Elvira.

The man didn’t look at Billy as he sat, but instead sighed, sounding exhausted, then reached into his mouth and plucked out his fangs. Now Billy could tell he was actually wearing custom dentures, just like on a movie. He’d clearly spent some cash on his costume.

“Nice fangs,” he said in Linda’s voice.

“Thank you very much,” the man said in a fake, vaguely Eastern European accent, sounding a little like Bela Lugosi in his prime. It wasn’t that great an impersonation, but not everyone could have Billy’s talents. “They cost enough,” the man said, slipping back into a broad American accent. “I’m glad you approve.”

He looked over at Billy. “We haven’t met yet, I think. You’re Elvira?”

Billy looked around as if he was searching for a double. “Oh, looks like I’m the only one here,” he said, grinning. He held out his hand, palm down, primed for a regal kiss, as he’d done for most of his interactions throughout the night. “Mistress of the Dark, pleased to meet you.”

While most of the guests, men and women alike, would blush and potentially go for a normal handshake, ‘Dracula’ was different. He took Billy’s hand gracefully and, with a knowing smile, leaned down and kissed it. It was barely a touch, nothing more, but Billy felt himself flush slightly beneath his mask regardless. There was a confidence to this man that was unmistakable.

“And who might I be addressing?” he asked.

“Count Dracula, of course,” the man replied, still hamming it up with his accent. “Lately of Transylvania, now abroad in this new world, seeking new opportunities.” He looked around furtively and then slid his teeth back into his mouth. “Specifically… new necks to suck on.”

He was so over-the-top in his performance that Billy couldn’t help but chuckle.“You’re not doing a great job of being incognito there, Count,” he said.

The man shrugged. “Everybody knows who I am here anyway,” he said, back in what Billy assumed was his normal voice. “I’d never get away with it.”

Billy looked at him quizzically. “Everybody knows who you are?”

The man nodded. “Yeah, I just happen to be the CEO of the company.”

Billy’s eyes widened slightly. He felt sure he’d been introduced to the CEO earlier, but maybe he wasn’t in costume then – or perhaps it was too dark to correctly identify him.

“I’m sorry,” Billy said. “I feel like we met earlier? I should have recognized you.”

The CEO shook his head. “It’s totally fine. You’ve probably met a hundred people in the last hour alone, and we all look weird, so it’s not surprising you’d get someone confused. There’s at least four Count Draculas here, although, of course, I have to be the best.”

“Is that you saying you think you’re the best, or you must be the best?”

“A little bit of both,” the CEO said with a wry smile. “So do I have to keep calling you Elvira, or am I able to use your real name?”

Billy smiled. “Oh, so you know my real name, do you?”

He shrugged. “Well, yeah, mostly because I was the one who asked for you specifically.”

In all the excitement of the party, Billy had forgotten that particular detail. Suddenly it came back to him, along with what Julie had called him.

“Oh, right,” he said, as if he’d known this all along and was just playing a part. “You’re the Guardian Girls fan… and it’s Martin, right?”

“Correct on both counts,” Martin said, with a smile that suggested he was flattered ‘Linda Merrill’ had remembered him.

Billy looked at him a little more carefully. He had the well-groomed look of a man who had money to spare on his appearance, sparkling green eyes and a strong, defined jawline. Billy had to admit he was good looking, but didn’t look like he could have watched Guardian Girls when it debuted.

“Don’t tell me you watched it first time around,” Billy said. “You can’t look that good.”

“No, I have to admit, I caught it mostly in reruns,” Martin said. “Now, of course, I have my very own physical copy. Well, two, one for safe-keeping. And I have to say… you have aged remarkably well, Ms Linda Merrill.”

Something about the way the CEO said Linda’s name gave Billy a chill, although he wasn’t sure if it was a chill of concern – or perhaps excitement.

“Anyway,” Martin continued, “when I heard that you were open to appearances at events, I thought you’d be a great pick to be part of our Halloween party – and I think I was right. As I normally am, to be honest.”

“Oh, really?” The guy certainly had an arrogant streak, but then, he was the CEO. That probably came with the territory. “So you’re happy with my ‘services’, hmm?”

“More than happy,” Martin replied. “Although I still haven’t gotten my photo taken with you over at our photo spot. Would you mind?”

“No, of course not,” Billy said. “Let me just go freshen up my makeup.”

“I will be vaiting right here,” he said in his bad accent once more. “I shall guard your blood!”

“Be right back, Count,” Billy said. After jamming his feet back into his heels and putting down his glass of red wine, he hustled away to the ladies’ restroom.

Inside, several employees in various costumes were checking their appearance in the mirror, using the facilities, and chatting away. Some recognized Billy when he entered; a couple even asked for selfies. Billy lingered at the sink until all of them had cleared out, and he momentarily had the place to himself.

When he was completely alone, he carefully examined his mask, making sure there were no errors, creases, defects, or anything else that might be obvious to the average partygoer. He applied a few touch-ups to the Elvira makeup and even a fresh coat of lipstick.

“Anyone would think,” Linda said to herself in the mirror, “you actually kind of like this guy.”

Billy shrugged Linda’s shoulders. “I mean, he’s handsome enough,” he muttered in his own voice. “He’s rich. You could definitely do worse, mom.”

The door to the restroom opened, and Billy shut his mouth instantly. A woman dressed in a cheap witch outfit swayed a little coming around the corner. She drunkenly yelled “Elvira!” at Billy, then tottered on her heels into one of the stalls.

Breathing a quiet sigh of relief, Billy snapped his compact shut, tucked it away in his purse, and returned to the party.

Glancing over at the spot he’d been sitting with the CEO, he saw it was unoccupied. Billy assumed Martin had moved over to the photo area. After one last glance at his makeup in Linda’s compact, he strode through the crowd, only stopping for two selfies on the way.

Sure enough, as he got closer, he saw the CEO standing in front of the diorama backdrop that had been constructed, swirling his cape about him as the photographer snapped away. The ‘Count’ had his teeth back in, and now, Billy noticed, he must have added some color contacts, because his eyes were now gleaming red as opposed to green.

As Billy approached, Martin noticed him. “Aha!” he said. “Our hostess has arrived.” He swirled his cape around again, and beckoned for Billy to join him.

Having done this a couple of dozen times by this point, Billy knew exactly where he needed to stand and the pose he needed to adopt for maximum efficiency. Moving next to the CEO, he stood with one foot slightly in front of the other, angled his leg to allow it to slip through the slit in his dress, threw his head back, thrust his chest out, and smiled a dazzling smile.

The first couple of photos were exactly like that – standard issue, nothing surprising. Then Martin stepped in front of Billy, looked him in the eyes, and said, “Do you trust me?”

Billy had no time to protest before the CEO took him in his arms, turned, and dipped him downwards, like they were in the middle of a gothic waltz. Billy was shocked but also elated. He couldn’t help but laugh as his head was thrown back, while still hoping the Elvira wig would not be dislodged.

“Incredible!” the photographer said, snapping away.

Billy recovered from his surprise and angled his head to the camera, putting on a ‘shocked’ face. It was worth it, he thought, considering how much Linda was getting paid, to say nothing of the tips he’d already collected.

After a few seconds, the CEO lifted Billy back up gracefully and apparently without much visible effort.

Billy smiled, smoothed out his dress, and said, “Well, that was a nice surprise.”

“I’m glad,” Martin said. “I hope you didn’t mind. It was a little presumptuous of me to ‘handle’ you.”

Billy had to admit, he didn’t mind being ‘handled’ by this man at all. Maybe it was his commanding presence, maybe it was the significant amount of alcohol in Billy’s system or maybe he was just falling under the vampire’s thrall. Either way, he didn’t mind being a dance partner to the CEO; in fact, he was quite glad to be.

“Well,” Billy said, fixing the CEO with Linda’s best beguiling stare. “You do have me for at least one more hour. You might as well get what you paid for.”

Martin grinned. “In that case,” he said, “I must insist I have the next dance.”