Isaac/Ainsley: THING

Eleven at night and they were still going at it in the other bedroom, just early enough that I couldn't bring myself to sleep through it out of pure exhaustion. Heather tries to convince her various hookups to host, and it usually works out that way, but she's never let my sanity get in the way of her getting laid if it comes down to it. Eventually, the noise died down for long enough without me overhearing any talking or anyone exiting the apartment that I felt safe enough to assume they'd both gone asleep and go get myself a drink of water.

It was on the couch when I opened the bedroom door. Not looking at a phone or trying to leave or anything. Just sitting there, eyes already peeled to my door before I even opened it. I averted my eyes and speedwalked as non-conspicuously I could manage to the kitchen. As I filled a cup I involuntarily dropped the glass into the sink when I heard it speak.

"Well? Aren't you going to look?"

My breathing stopped. Without thinking I bolted around and did as instructed. It sat casually stretched out like it owned the place, a toothy grin I'd never seen before on its face. It had an immaculately maintained side-shaved haircut, clear, lean muscle visible alongside a muscle top and well-fitting jeans. Its voice, buried under a deeper affectation and genuine confidence, just hauntingly familiar enough to invoke nightmares. It was Isaac Strauss' body.

"What's up? Can't look yourself in the eye?" It laughed-- an actual laugh, not the disgusting choke-snort I long believed was the only thing it's capable of. "I kinda thought you'd react that way. You're so predictable, really-- both of you." I continued silently looking at the floor, not wanting to confront or provoke or comprehend the problem before me in any way possible.

A disheveled, half-naked Heather emerged from her bedroom, giving the intruder and I something else to look at. She yawned, looking over the both of us. "Ainsley, he was just leaving," she said, as if she'd be nudging him with her elbow if she were close enough. She looked at him. "I told you not to bother my roommate, she's kinda--"

"Heather that's my own fucking body!" I let out in a far more pathetic whimper than I'd hoped for.

She froze and looked around again. "Huh? I, I-- That's not how I would've--"

The body seemed to consider this the funniest thing in the world. "I still can't believe you never even showed her what you look like, this whole time. Like, I made some changes, but damn. She could've figured it out the second she saw me on Tinder, y'know? Do you just hate yourself that much?"

I had no response for that. It's true. I'd never shown Heather what I used to look like. It never came up and I didn't feel like volunteering it.

Heather, fists clenched, answered for me. "I am not. Going to tolerate you treating me, or my friend, like that ever again. If you say one more fucking word to him I swear I'm gonna make sure you won't even dream about showing your face again."

"Oh, really? Never show my face again-- is that permission to cancel my Inn reservation?" Heather flinched. "Yeah. I thought so. And I've been hitting the gym, so, y'know, I think I can handle a one-v-one fight with a stick like you-- since we all know you're--" Its face looked right at me again "--gonna be too busy hiding in a corner to help out. But, you look pretty pissed, I'm not gonna risk it. So maybe I should just--"

"--Just say whatever the hell you're gonna say and get on with it!" I cried.

"Thank you," it grinned. "For asking, 'why'd you come all this way, Marv?' Well, I'll tell you. The semester wrapped up, and all the cool, new friends I made over the last year skipped town for the summer. So I thought, hey, I'm young and got nothing better to do, why not visit two very special acquaintances of mine in Phoenix before I head up to Maine? It'd be a waste to just rot in a dorm all summer. I mean, can you imagine?"

"So I'm here for two reasons. One, I want to give you a demonstration of what you're capable of-- one way," it pointed at itself, "or another." It made double finger-guns at Heather, who I was almost about to join in nearly being driven to violence. "I can't believe I got away with that one, by the way. Crazy. But, yeah. And two, I want to give you an invitation, for tomorrow night. An event I'm putting on, just the three of us, where we can talk... Old Orchard Beach? And a couple other things."

Heather and I both waited for it to get to the point, unwilling to give it the satisfaction of a reaction.

"So yeah, meet me at ten tomorrow night. Little place called The Lounge, at least by someone in this room." Sometimes I wonder why anyone ever risks putting anything on the blog. "Sit at that booth in the back corner, by all those pictures of acts that've played there. Should be a good time. Better than this-- for you two, at least, I know *I'm* having fun." It started making its way towards the door, apparently, this was as far as it'd gotten with his clearly rehearsed speech. "We try to have some fun around here, huh? So, 'til tomorrow. Marv out."

The thing that was me left the apartment before either Heather or I could collect ourselves enough to do anything, for all it would've been worth if we had.