Chapter 1

One

Fairlie

I glance at the time, frustration simmering beneath my skin as I stare at my reflection in the mirror. I’ve been dressed and ready for almost an hour now, the glitter from my fairy costume catching the dim light of my studio apartment. My fingers tap impatiently against my phone screen as I shoot Alix a text—the third one tonight.

Me

Are you coming? I’ve been ready and waiting. Should I just meet you there?

I hit send, my thumb hovering over the screen as if willing him to respond. I huff as I fall down onto the couch. This whole night was his idea—the stupid frat party, the ridiculous Thumbelina and Cornelius costumes, and the expectation that I’d somehow find this all hilarious just because my name is Fairlie.

I run my fingers through my glitter-sprayed hair, staring at my phone, willing my asshole boyfriend to text me back. If he’s not going to make it, then I’m going to change into my comfy sweats and start a horror movie marathon. He’s been distant lately. We have midterms coming up, so I’ve been giving him the benefit of the doubt, but I’ve about had enough.

My phone dings, and I look at it.

Alix

Not sure if I’ll make it. Got asked to stay late at work. You can go without me. See you tomorrow!

He got asked to stay late at work? On Halloween? He works at the local Hobby Lobby and we all know they don’t celebrate the holiday, so I highly doubt they asked him to stay late. What could they be doing, hosting a baptism cleansing for employees?

Me

Is everything okay? The store doesn’t do Sundays or pagan holidays so what’s up?

Alix

A lady knocked over our Christmas ornament end cap. I’m cleaning up. What’s with the third degree?

I roll my eyes because asking if everything is okay is hardly the third-degree, but whatever. I push myself off the couch, heading to my room. I strip off the fairy dress and wings, toss them onto the bed, throw the floral headband I’m wearing onto my dresser, and flip my head upside down, putting my hair up in a messy bun.

Scream marathon here I come. What better way to spend the night of creeps and scares than with the hottest Ghostface there is— Mr. Billy Loomis.

I settle in front of the TV, finding the franchise and hitting play, the opening credits already sending a thrill through me. It’s time to be turned on by the hot serial killer.

An ad pops up before the movie starts and I groan. I thought all these streaming apps and smart TVs were supposed to do away with commercials. Instead, I have to watch ads before I can enjoy my movie.

Looking for love that’s out of this world?

Swipe through the night, and give Monster Match a whirl!

From zombies to krakens, and orcs so fine,

Find your freaky match, it’s monster time!

A laugh escapes me at the irony of their ad tonight. It’s Halloween so of course they’re pushing the new MonsterMatch app. I shouldn’t be surprised. Ever since monsters integrated into the general population, more and more all-species-friendly things have popped up. Blood banks for vampires, special swim hours for water creatures, and now a monster dating app.

My phone dings again as the TV flashes with a huge fifty percent off sign.

Alix

Be there soon, baby. Hope that tight little pussy is ready for me. The bitch is set. Probably sitting at home looking like a slob.

I freeze, disbelief flooding me. What the fuck? Who the hell is baby, and who is the bitch? And whose tight little pussy needs to be ready for him? Not mine, since he just told me he’s working late.

My heart pounds as rage surges through me. The asshole is cheating on me? We’ve been together since our sophomore year of college and we’re seniors now.

How long has this been going on? Who the fuck is she? I gave him the benefit of the doubt since midterms were coming, but he’s been sticking his cock in someone else? Oh, Hell no.

My hand shakes as I hit his name in my favorites.

“Hello?” He picks up instantly. “What do you want, Fair? I told you I was working.”

“Working on sinking your trouser snake into some slut?” I spit, unable to hide the venom in my tone. “What was the plan here? Just make me get all dressed up to blow me off for your side piece? Why not just not make plans so you can fuck her? I could have saved hours getting ready and started my movie marathon earlier.”

Alix pauses briefly. I’m sure he’s panicking, wondering how I know since that text very clearly wasn’t meant for me.

“Shit,” he mutters, realizing he’s been caught.

“Yeah. Shit. You’re a fucking asshole. Glad I wasted three years of my life on you. Next time, just break up with the girl and don’t cheat. I could have been out getting better dick myself.”

“Come on, Fair, don’t be like that. We can work it out. You should meet her. Maybe the two of you would hit it off.”

I can’t help but bark a laugh. “Are you serious right now? So you can have two girlfriends? This isn’t Sister Wives, fuckstick. We’re done. Enjoy your whore. Whoever she is.” With that, I hang up and slam my phone onto the cushion beside me.

My movie’s been playing while I was lost in this shit show, so I pause and hit restart before getting up and going to the kitchen for my box of wine. Franzia is my best friend while at college. It’s cheap, easy to find, and gets the job done when I need to tie one on.

With my box of wine and a glass in hand, I sit on the couch, pour a glass from the spout, and hit play. I make it to Casey’s murder and my third glass before the first tear falls.

I wipe my eyes and sniff. “Why are you crying over that sloppy, dickheaded bastard?” I ask myself aloud.

The truth is, I don’t know why I’m crying. I thought we were in love, but lately, I’ve realized it was more about comfort, about having someone there during this last semester. I was willing to work on things, survive senior year, and see where life took us after graduation. But now... it’s not heartbreak I feel, it’s anger. And something deeper—self-doubt.

What does this other girl have that I don’t? Why was it so easy for Alix to just pull away and play me like a well-tuned instrument? Am I that easy to toss aside?

I pour another glass, then another, the wine going down smoother with each sip. By the time the credits roll, the bag is empty, and I throw the box to the floor.

“Fucker.” I struggle to click over to the next movie- Scream 2 , which has the second sexiest Ghostface killer.

That same stupid ad plays and I try to fast-forward through it but end up freezing the TV as the little circle spins, telling me it’s loading.

Fuuuck!

“Swipe through the night, give Monster Match a whirl!” I sing, waiting for it to buffer.

It is a catchy little jingle. I bet a monster wouldn’t cheat on me. It’s probably hard as hell to find a partner as a monster since you’re all, you know…monsterly. They’d probably appreciate their woman, treat her like a fucking queen.

Maybe I should get a monster man since the human ones suck.