Page 2 of Bite Marks

“Sorry,” Kaylee replied, using her fingernail to sharpen her eyeliner in the circular mirror beside the door. You’d never be able to tell we’d put the thing up with about fifteen Command hooks. The stylishly crumbling, vintage brick walls of her apartment were cute in theory but a nightmare to actually hang anything on. “Last one.Oh! I have an idea! Why don’t you peel yourself off the sofa for something other than a job interview and go grab one downstairs? Fuel for morejob board doom scrolling.”

I groaned, tossing a light pink, heart-shaped cushion in the direction of her head playfully. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, asshole.”

She laughed as she caught the plush projectile, throwing it back at me. I wasn’t as quick as Kaylee, so the pillow smacked my shoulder before bouncing to the trendy, low-pile area rug.

Fucking dancer reflexes.

I was only a little jealous of her for getting the grace since getting the brains was a pretty solid deal.

At least I’dthoughtso. These days, it seemed like Kaylee had more marketable skills than I did.

Ouch, there was that ego again—bruised this time.

She grabbed her bag off the hook beside the mirror, the profile of her sun-and-bronzer-kissed face illuminated by a mixof the warm glow of the sunlamps dotting every flat surface and the neon lights slipping through the blinds from outside.

It didn’t matter that it was only nine in the morning; here in the Lower City, darkness was aperkof the zip code for the same exact reason it was a hot spot for vampires—digital shaders that covered the city, plunging us into perpetual, night-child-safe gloom.

Fuck, I missed my old place in the Upper City. Or at least I missed the bay windows—coffeealwaystasted better sitting in a sunbeam.

“This could besoeasy, Vi. O is great, you’d love?—”

“I told you, I really don’t wanna go back to being a shot girl. I went to college?—”

“To become a marketing professional. Yeah, yeah, I know.” Kaylee waved me off, laughing as she tugged on her sneakers. “Seriously, girl, I’m just saying?—”

“AndI’mjust saying I have an interview today that I’m going to crush, so I won’t need to go back to mixing martinis at two in the fucking morning and working weekends to pay my bills.”

“Yeah, yeah. How’re you going to go to the farmers’ market if you’re working until four a.m.?” she said with some snark, scrunching her nose with her grin.

“I have a good feeling about this,” I pushed. “My senior internship was with Golden Dragon. The hiring manager and I know each other! It’s in the bag!”

Golden Dragon was one of the biggest marketing firms in the world. If I could just nail this interview, everything would change for me. Even if I didn’t getthisjob, maybe they’d have something,anythingelse?—

“I remember,” Kaylee said with a groan. “You talked about it nonstop for like four months into the application process. I practically slept in the library so that you couldn’t corner me torant about how good it would be for your resume again. How’s that treating you, by the way?”

“God, you’resuchan asshole sometimes,” I muttered, the chime of my email pulling my attention back to my laptop screen like a dog with a whistle.

“Guilty,” she replied, swiping on a fresh coat of lip gloss with a loud smack that made me smile.

This exchange was practically bible for us by now, the sort of thing that became natural after a lifetime of being best friends. We’d been inseparable since the first time we’d met on our first day of kindergarten. Turns out that you can find true love in the pickup line. It just so happened that for us it was platonic.

Despite my conviction that I was going to nail this next interview, I was nervous. I’d already been to half a dozen this week, none of which landed me a new gig.

I was either overqualified, underqualified, or too queer for the stuffy department heads. But, Ihadto hope it was all going to turn around—ideally before another fucking bill was due. I’d had enough savings to float myself a couple of months, but then my mom got sick and my dad fucked off, and now things were getting… dicey. Even with my mom safely staying with her sister in Florida and unemployment’s help, I needed to find a job, like,last month.

“It’s not that bad. I’ve been dancing there for a year, and I’ve never had a problem with the hours or creeps or anything. Plus, Dana is a super chill boss.Aaaaandwe get unlimited paid time o?—”

Honestly, we’d had this talk so many times that I tuned her out.

“Not interested,” I interrupted, refreshing the browser.

“You’ve been unemployed for like eight months, Vi. You’re getting cabin fever.”

“Seven months. I’m not getting cabin fever,” I grumbled. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

“What?”

“They cancelled the interview and went with an internal candidate.”

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