Page 80 of By the Pint

Yeah, he said, and laughed out loud, catching my eye and licking his lower lip.That’s Storm. He was in a spot of bother back then. With the law and his wife. Needed some positive press. I needed some negative press. We came to a very lucrative agreement. And I got to punch the smug shit live on TV.

But he’s your friend? Was your friend? And getting punched in the face is good publicity?

He’s captain now,he said, with a shrug, as though that answered my question.I’d do the same for you any day, Mosquito.

I rolled my eyes, but at least I was smiling.

He gave all this up.

I let that sink in for a while.

Casey gave up all of this happiness-fuel for the promise of becoming immortal.

That didn’t make him a bad person. Didn’t make him good. It was just another one of those things. A dream being actualised.

If anything, it made me realise how important this was to him. Seeing what he was prepared to sacrifice for the whole becoming a vampire deal. Casey 2.0. If that was what it took to make him truly happy, it was not my business to stop that. Standing between Casey and his happiness was the last thing I ever wanted to do.

But for my sanity, I would have to give him up sooner rather than later.

The game started, and the noise levels went from almost intolerable to laughable. People shouted and screamed, whistles blew, music blasted on loudspeaker, rubber shoes squeaked on wing-boards. A sports announcer guy screeched into a mic, folk chanted, goal horns blared, clackers clacked, and snare drums vibrated the very air around us. Kids wore construction-site-style ear defenders, and I half considered floating to the front kiosk to buy some for myself.

Not content with the noise pollution stealing all my attention, the smells in the stadium were reaching near barf-inducing levels. Popcorn, beer, sweaty hotdogs, sweaty men, patrons’ overpowering perfumes, a child five rows away vomiting, lemon-scented cleaning fluid, some guy’s anti-fungal sole inserts. Discreetly, I pulled my jumper collar over my nose.

Over the middle of the court, a four-sided, twenty-foot screen was suspended, playing close ups of the wingball players, plus brain-numbing, flashing advertisements for all manner of human-centric products.

Every thirty seconds or thereabouts, Casey leapt to his feet. And for someone at peak happiness, he sure shouted,“Fucking kill him!” a lot. But in between jumping up and down and screaming obscenities, Casey would sit beside me and, without words, take my hand in his. A warmth seeped into my cold, dead skin.

I didn’t want to give him up. Ever.

“You could cheer, you know, when our team scores,” he whispered, burying his nose into my hair by my ear, lingering a few moments after he stopped speaking.

I have brittle carpal bones, I replied.Wouldn’t want to risk banging my hands together senselessly. I’d rather save them for other activities.

“Can’t fucking argue with that,” he said, and planted a kiss against my jaw with a whine that travelled straight to my dick.

Actually, I need the bathroom. Do you know if there are automatic flushes and taps?

Uh… He gripped my hand tighter, and ran his teeth against his lip again.It’s been so long since I’ve been to one of these places, but … I expect so. Because of germs. I could come with you? It’s quarter time break now.

It’s fine. I’ll hold it.

He said nothing, just squeezed my hand tighter still. A gesture which I felt mirrored in my chest.

This was a world made for Caseys. Not Dimas. Not undead people like me. Though soon Casey would be sitting on the other side of that veil. Everything would change for him. Folk will shrink away. Sights and sounds and smells will quickly overwhelm him. He wouldn’t even be able to buy any snacks or relieve his bladder without someone flushing the fucking toilet for him.

Did he understand just how much would change? How much of his life would be different because the world thought of him differently?

I shot him a sideways glance while I decided if it was something I should bring up now, and ruin his evening, or save for the ride home.

But at that moment, I glanced up at the gigantic four-way telly thingy and lost my train of thought. It illuminated a closeup of my neighbours, the famous popstar and her famous husband. The crowd cheered and the couple randomly decided a twenty-foot screen that was being broadcast across the Eight and a Half Kingdoms was a great time for a PDA. The crowd cheered even more. Then the screen cut to another couple, seated somewhere in the middle of the stadium, and then bizarrely, they kissed, too.

What is this?I asked, pointing to the screens.

It’s kiss cam, Casey said.They find couples in the crowd, and if it’s you, you have to kiss. And—oh, fuck—

Comprehension dawned on Casey’s face. His mouth dropped open. His eyes formed circles. But I didn’t see it beside me. I saw it on the beautiful twenty-foot version of him hanging from the sky.

Murmurs of laughter rumbled through the crowd as people started to make sense of what they were looking at.

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