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CHAPTER THREE

CHANEL

M organ and I got dressed up for a wild night on the town. I hadn’t gone out much since I moved to Chicago. On my way to work, I passed this club that was only a few minutes away from my apartment. There was always a long line outside, so I thought it would be a good spot to take Morgan.

I couldn’t remember the last time I went out for a drink. Actually, I could remember the last time. Lonzo took me out for drinks often. It was so hard for me to believe he was a monster. Worse, it was even harder for me to believe I fell for him. I thought he was a legit businessman. He was far from it. He was a stone-cold killer and the head of some Mexican drug crime family. It didn’t matter now. Hopefully, he would be convicted of one or all the crimes he’s committed and he would be gone forever.

Morgan was wearing black, her favorite color. She had her small boobs tucked into a bustier. I could never wear something like that because I would spill out. I needed support for my D’s.

I had on a cute, tight electric blue tube dress that hugged my curves. It was chilly as always, but at least it wasn’t raining again. My hair was spiral-curled all over. Morgan really did her thing with my hair. She was much better at fixing my hair than me. I really didn’t know why? She had fine mixed chick’s hair, and I never knew how she knew the perfect products for my 4b hair. But she did.

We stepped out of my apartment in our high heels and took the stairs down to the ground level. It was her idea to not wear coats, although it was freezing outside. There was a chill as soon as I hit the apartment hallway. Morgan’s car was parked in my apartment lot and she had seat warmers. I would be okay as long as we exited through the back of the apartment complex. There was no way I was going to walk around the entire complex to get to the parking lot.

Morgan was a shit starter. I should’ve known she wasn’t going to let me walk to her car in peace and harmony. There was a minor argument slash debate on whether we should go down to the basement and take a peek at Mr. Vampire’s door.

There was absolutely no way to know if my strange neighbor received my drunken crazy note from last night. I wasn’t even sure the sentences were coherent or grammatically correct. It was just a silly game of dare.

After I wrote the note, Morgan was my proofreader. We took the back staircase and crept down to the basement. I was so nervous. My feet wouldn’t carry me to Mr. Vampire’s door. Morgan got fed up with my antics and snatched the note out of my hand. She pranced her ass right up to his door because I couldn’t actually do it. Yesterday Morgan was the one that slid the note under his door. She ran back to where I was waiting like a coward. We both dashed up two flights of stairs until we were in the comfort of my apartment. Last night was fun just like always but today was a new day.

I wished I knew his name. His mailbox was the only one that didn’t have a name on it. I didn’t have anything to call him, but Mr. Vampire. Maybe I should have put the note in his nameless mailbox. I didn’t think of it at the time. What’s done is done.

I didn’t want to go back to his lair now that I was completely sober. Morgan talked me into going back to the basement. I wanted to just get in her car and go to the club.

Mr. Vampire’s door didn’t have a peephole, so I didn’t have to worry about him watching us. I had to worry about him opening the door at the very moment we arrived at it and cold bustin’ us acting childish and stupid.

We didn’t take the elevator because the opening of the doors would be a little loud even though the elevator wasn’t directly near his apartment. We took the stairs and our high heels were silent because of the carpet.

This whole thing was juvenile, but it was the most fun I had since being here in Chicago. I was an only child, with no parents, and I didn’t have any family I was close to. I missed Morgan and how crazy we were when we were together. I had no idea when I would see her again, and I was okay with acting a bit out of my character.

As soon as we hit the last step to the basement, we paused. With Morgan on my heels, I crept around the corner toward his apartment. Like a neon sign glowing in a darkened hall, I saw the note attached to his door. I stopped in my tracks and grabbed Morgan’s wrist so she could do the same.

“You see that?” I whispered in her ear after smacking my forehead into the side of her face.

“Yeah, oh, oh. It’s a note. You think it’s for you?” She frantically asked.

“I don’t know.” My heart picked up the pace. Was I really freaking out over a damn piece of paper? “You think?”

“Has to be.”

“Maybe, I don’t know.”

“Go over there and get it.” She goaded.

“It could be a trap.”

“Ah, I don’t think so.”

“You grab it.” I ordered, knowing that wouldn’t work with her.

“You grab it. He’s your secret vampire. ”

I laughed on the inside because he wasn’t anybody’s vampire. He was just some freakishly handsome White man that lived alone in my apartment complex. I’m sure he had a good reason why he was living in the basement. Maybe there weren’t any other apartments available when he moved in. Maybe he didn’t have his name on the community mailboxes because he had a P.O. Box at the local post office.

I mustered up all the courage I had in my throbbing heart. “Okay, I’m going to grab it. Come with me.”

“Gurl.” Morgan smacked her lips, and I knew that meant hell no. “I went yesterday. It’s your turn.”

She was right. It was my turn. I held my little clutch purse close to my side as I tiptoed the few steps it took to be at my neighbor’s front door. I was stealth as I could be in six-inch designer heels. I snatched the note off the door and was glad it came off easily. I sprinted back to Morgan, and we jetted up the stairs to the ground level.

I held the paper close to my chest as we both ran out the back door to the parking lot. Morgan was quick to unlock the car doors, and we both jumped into her plush, cold leather seats.

As soon as she locked the door, we both erupted in a barrage of giggles. I missed our stupid antics. It felt so good to be myself. I didn’t have to code switch. Being with Morgan almost made me forget about the danger I was in and why I fled Minnesota.

“Read it! Read it!” She chanted.

“Drive the car away from the building.” I groaned.

I waited until we were out of my parking lot before I peeled the lone piece of tape off the note. I unfolded it and used the flashlight on my cell phone to read the note.

“What does it say?”

Excitement filled my heart when I shined the cell flashlight on the words written in black ink.

“Coco!” Morgan blurted my name as she turned the corner. She knew where she was going because she never went anywhere without an exact address she could map out beforehand .

“I’m going to read it.” I grinned as I skimmed the note. “Oh shit, it’s just a pizza menu.”

Morgan removed her eyes from the road to buck them out at me. “Coco, don’t play with me.”

“Okay, okay.” I fixed my face and started to read the note out loud.

Dear person polite enough to call me Mr. but rude enough to judge me without knowing me. (That’s you.)

“He put that’s me, in parentheses.” I said.

“Oh, he extra.” Morgan smacked her lips.

I don’t know what you think you know, but you shouldn’t go around accusing people of being vampires. It’s terribly impolite.

“Oh, he think he funny.” Morgan added.

Stalking is rude also. Clearly, you have been watching me from afar.

“Damn, he called you a stalker.” Morgan joked.

I refuse to admit to being undead. I’m not sure why people are always so hung up on labels. I don’t know who you are. But you have piqued my curiosity.

I think of myself as very observant. Nonetheless, I am clueless. You write like a human female. So that’s all I can gather from your accusatory note. We should meet so you can air your grievances in person.

“Oh, he wants to meet you.” Morgan gushed.

P.S. I stopped drinking human blood decades ago. Do your research, madam.

Signed,

Mr. Vampir e

“Okay, that was something.” I sighed with relief when I finished reading the note.

Morgan’s eyes stayed focused on the road. “It was cute and flirty.”

“Should I be scared?” I genuinely asked. I didn’t know where to go from here.

“Scared of what? You started this, and he was just trying to be funny. He could’ve ignored you all together. To me, it seems like he has a sense of humor.”

“Yeah, but now it’s going to be weird when I see him. We live in the same building.”

“He doesn’t even know it’s you.”

“You’re right, and I never run into him. When I see him, he never even notices me.”

“Maybe you should introduce yourself.”

“No way.”

“Yeah, just be cool. Take it slow. Write him another note. See if he gets weird. Hey, can I park on the street over here?”

I pointed to the right. “No, turn here. You can park on this street. We just have to walk a few blocks and freeze our asses off.”

“The margaritas will warm us up.”

Morgan made a right at the corner. She found a parking space and showed me her impeccable parallel parking skills. I wanted to take pictures for the Gram because my girl and I were looking so damn hot to death. That was definitely not an option, because I wasn’t sure if Lonzo had access to Morgan’s social media accounts. I don’t know why I let the thought of that man enter my head when I was supposed to be having fun with my friend.

The walk to the entrance of The Castle wasn’t too bad. My heels were broken in, since I had them for a few years.

Of course, there was a long line. We stood out in the cold for six minutes. That was before a tall blonde woman that could easily be a supermodel looked at both of us and said, “Come with me.”

Morgan grabbed my hand, and we followed the beautiful woman down the sidewalk and to the front entrance. She turned to us and her blonde hair whipped around like she was in a shampoo commercial.

“You both over twenty-one?” The blonde asked with an accent I couldn’t quite decipher.

“Yes.” Morgan blurted.

“Good.” The bombshell looked us up and down. “Follow me.”

We trailed behind the woman as she made long-legged strides right through the metal detectors, past the cashier, and to the first bar.

The hostess whipped around to smile widely at us. “The first drink is free ladies. Enjoy The Castle.” She waved her hand around to the tattooed bartender and he came right over with his perfect purple hair.

“What are you beauties drinking tonight?”

“Two Patron Silver margaritas.”

“Coming right up?” The bartender smiled and winked at us. Or maybe he winked at Morgan. It was hard to tell. He sauntered away to mix our drinks.

“Did you have to do the most?” I asked.

“Yes, I did. Charlize said the first drink was free. I like free shit.”

“Right, she did look like Charlize with long hair.”

“This music is different. But I like it. It’s all Coachella slash Lollapalooza.”

“It is.” I agreed.

We stood at the bar for only a few minutes before our drinks were handed over. Morgan was ready with a tip, but the bartender picked up the money and handed back to her. That’s never happened before, but it was a cool thing. I took a sip, and the tequila was strong .

We took our drinks and walked across the crowded room. The club was rustic on the inside. The décor was stone, like real stone, I think. There was an actual castle inside The Castle. At the top of the tower housed the deejay booth, only accessible by a bridge. Whoever designed this place had a really vivid imagination. I could see why there was a line outside. The hospitality was stellar, and the crowd was a good mix of all ethnicities despite the medieval times style.

I glanced up at the top of the tower and there he was, my mysterious neighbor. He was standing there next to the deejay and a woman. He was talking to the lady as the deejay bobbed his head to the music. I couldn’t believe he was here. He didn’t seem like the type that would be in a nightclub. I didn’t know what type he was, but I just didn’t imagine loud music and crowds were something he was into.

“Hey.” I leaned into Morgan’s ear. “That guy up there.”

“Where?”

I inconspicuously pointed my drink in his direction. “At the top of the tower.”

“Where?”

I raised my voice an octave. “At the top of the tower.”

Morgan’s body and face moved in the right direction. “Which one?”

“The guy in all black.”

“He’s fine.”

“That’s my neighbor.”

“What neighbor?”

“Mr. Vampire.”

“Oh shit, he don’t look weird at all.”

Well, he wasn’t weird in this environment. He was dressed hip and cool. His hair was even combed. Nothing like I’d seen him when I got a rare glance at him. He was usually dressed like a homeless serial killer.

It didn’t matter. I was determined to have a good time. I was also keen on staying out of his line of sight. I doubted he would recognize me as his neighbor. He never looked my way. As far as I could tell, I was a ghost to him, even though my melanin was popping.

I was here to drink, dance with strangers, and have a good time. I was going to do just that. I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about the note he taped to his door. He intrigued me, and I wasn’t going to act like he didn’t.

We only had a little over two hours in the club before we had to call it a night. Hurting feet, aching legs and a few drinks too many meant time to head out. The ride home was quiet. We didn’t bother to turn the radio on. We still had the music from the club banging in our ears. I drank more than I should. I wanted to let my hair down in this new town where no one knew my past or me.

I should’ve been fast asleep as soon as I got inside my apartment. But the note was in my head and in my drunken heart. Morgan didn’t even remove her dress when she climbed under the duvet.

Seeing my neighbor at The Castle lit a fire under me. I had to respond to his note. Writing it sober would’ve probably been the best option, but I wasn’t sober, so hopefully the words I put down would make some sense.

I found a pen in my top drawer and I went into my printer to grab a fresh piece of white copy paper. After rewriting the letter three times, I settled with this Shakespearean masterpiece.

Dear Mr. Vampire,

I’m not sure why you need to talk to me. I thought I made myself perfectly clear. I’m human and you’re not, so please state your grievances and place them under the big brown flowerpot near the bushes at the rear of the building where you live. I’m only going to collect your note during the sunny light of day. So don’t even think about trying to figure out my identity. I have the light of the sun on my side and I bought some crucifixes too.

Signed, a Bossy Daywalker

It was liquid courage that compelled me. I took the stairs down to the basement. I kept with tradition and was going to slide my note under the door. Instead of moving slowly, I wanted to hurry and get this part over with. I knew my nocturnal neighbor was still at the club, and that gave me more comfort and bravery.