Page 32 of My Cosplay Escape
TheDaily Postphotographer snaps a picture, then several more using everyone’s phones.
“Lovely,” Adam says. “If you use the caption #superheroescapes when you post this picture to your Twitter, Insta, Facebook, Snapchat, or TikTok, you’ll receive 25% off your next adventure here at Superhero Escapes.”
“That’s clever,” Linda says. “You seeing good results?”
“Oh, yes. All detailed in our next earnings report.” Adam walks out with the group.
So they were Adam’s investors. No wonder he was so uptight.
I pose for more pictures. I meet Nightbat. I stick it out for more Malum escapes and have to swat away only a few more extroverted, possibly inebriated, individuals. Our last group comes in at 12:48 a.m. I find Vanessa after they roll out.
“Replicate?” I ask. “‘Whatever you do don’t…’”
“Yeah, don’t replicate. You can’t do the same thing every time. You got to change it up. Keep it fresh. But you knew that. You’re a natural.”
Don’t I know it.
Adam finds me as I head out the back door. My feet ache, and my stomach is sore from hours of wearing a corset, but seeing Adam waiting for me… It’s like I get a second wind.
“Big night,” I say, leaning against the wall. Adam looks a little on edge until I offer, “We stayed open nearly an extra hour.”
He looks absolutely relieved. Was the meet and greet with the investors a surprise after all? “You should have seen the line.” He pulls out his phone and taps out what sounds like a text.
My phone vibrates in my thigh pocket. I pull it out to find a notification from Venmo. “What’s this?” I ask.
“Your advance.” I’m one swipe away from depositing it in full, when Adam places a hesitant hand on top of mine. “I need you to promise you’ll be back. Look, I’m sorry about what happened with the group of high schoolers. Usually, our crowd isn’t quite so rough.” His brow furrows, and once again, he’s staring at my boots. “Once you’re no longer a novelty, we can train you in hosting one of the other escape rooms. But for now, I need you in Malum Escape.”
“You need me?” You bet I’m going to make him say it again.
“I need you, Sabine.”
Of course I show up the next night.
Of course I show up the next weekend.
Of course I think about Adam’s electric-blue eyes dicing my insides as he tells me he needs me each and every day.
Chapter Nine
Somehow, when you give men the opportunity to wear a mask and cape, they think they have permission to be a rogue, douche, and idiot. Usually simultaneously. If I had known Customer Cosplay Night at Superhero Escapes was going to be this much work, I would have shortened my marathon run this morning by half.
Most of the costumes so far have been good. Clearly, San Diego has a resident wealthy-nerd populace actively searching for opportunities to show off their expensive gear. Comic-Con comes but once a year, and with the marine layer finally bowing to the August sun, no one has Halloween on their mind. But Customer Cosplay Night at Superhero Escapes? The entire San Diego metro area will be there. Happily sweating through their custom-made getups as the AC tries and fails to keep up with an escape room filled to capacity.
I’ll give Adam this: He knows how to keep the nerds coming. I wish he were here tonight. I know heart-eyeing your boss is the textbook definition of pathetic, but whenever I catch him staring at me, my ego soars. I could string my ego up and fly it higher than the banners the planes drag over Law Street Beach on Saturdays. My stomach gurgles as the image of “Free appetizer with every entrée!” scrolls through my head in yellow letters. I need to change up my running route on Saturdays.
There is, of course, no lasting effect from Adam’s double takes and glances. My ego deflates when he isn’t around. I crawl back to Earth and remember I’m in a costume just like the sign flippers wearing furries on street corners. Humiliating, desperate, and so very weird.
The door outside my Malum Asylum cell opens. A gust of welcome cooler air and the hum of the crowd outside press against me until Stacey snaps the door shut behind her. She hands me a water bottle. “You hangin’ in there, Not Sabine?”
Stacey manages to look completely resplendent in her warrior princess leather skirt ensemble. It might be that she is a literal goddess among us mortals, or it might be that her costume is breathable. My vinyl is probably permanently stuck to me at this point. “It’s hot in here,” I drawl, and then in a more authentic voice, I add, “I think I’ve sweated off all my makeup.” I must have raccoon eyes and Badpun lips.
Stacey brushes her thumbnail against the edge of my lip in a no-nonsense big-sister way. “There. You look great.”
Vanessa, who is rocking a far more gritty and realisticFair Play look this evening, joins us, beaming. “This is the best night ever! I think I literally made a guy pee his pants.”
I have never been more jealous of a woman’s bare legs. I need to make finding a more comfortable, breathable Catstrike costume a priority.
Stacey hands Vanessa a water bottle. “Don’t tell Adam I let you swing a bat at a paying custumer.” She gives Vanessa a once-over. “Cute shorts. Where did you find those?”
