Liv Foster moved away from her hometown of Houston, Texas five years ago.  She’d flown to New York City for a fifth (lord have mercy) job interview at Stark Advertising’s corporate headquarters, and a week later, she had, to her complete shock because it had to be too good to be true, received an offer for a position at one of their regional northeastern branches.  The pay was legit , with killer benefits beyond the basics, like an onsite gym and indoor pool, five hundred a month bonuses for carpooling or biking to work, memberships to the major museums, house cleaning services, yearly subscriptions to Netflix and Amazon Prime among other things.  Uh…. yes please.

            It’s the little things, right?  She’d accepted right on the spot.

            The move hadn’t been easy of course.  After all, she’d really enjoyed her life in southeast Texas, despite the stifling summers and periodic disastrous flooding.  Her two bedroom had been an absolute steal, and only three blocks from the village, close to Rice University where her older sister Jane was a professor in the physics department.  Every Monday and Thursday night when Jane stayed until nine to do grades, Liv would grab take out from their favorite eats and bike to her sister’s office for dinner together.  God, she loved her big sis, even though Jane was a total science nerd.  There had been other things tooーher dad’s post-season Astros tickets (cheating controversy aside), the 60 degree winters, Torchy’s Tacos, her hilarious best friend and tattoo artist Darcy who owned I Love Lewis Ink, hanging out with their other pals at the Present Company bar after work.  Oh, and her hairstylist Aimee.  Liv had not been looking forward to the inevitable disappointment of going through no less than five bad haircuts before finding the “right” stylist again.

            But the career opportunity had been too important to stay put, to become stagnant, to not face the reality of her first Saturn return.  Life was too short to cling to comfort rather than take risks and try new things, even if they scared the hell out of you.  So, in the spring of 2014, after promising to facetime every week with her parents and Jane and Darcy, she’d jumped into the deep end and moved to Nornstown, Connecticut to start a new life.  It was a decent sized (roughly 65,000) city west of Stamford and only about thirty miles from NYC’s city line, and other than the typical high cost of living in the northeast, Liv had zero complaints.

            Her 1940s two bedroom rental in the heart of the museum district was on the pricey side, but it was close to work, and all the best amenities of the city were within walking distance, so it was worth it.  It hadn’t taken long to establish a new social life either, which (let’s be honest) was the most important thing outside of making money, obviously.  Not having friends to hang out with would have driven her absolutely insane.  Thank god, her first week on the job, she’d met the nicest guyーSteve Rogers worked two floors up from her, and they’d been great friends ever since that first meeting.  Super good-looking, steady job, caring, strong, funny…total marriage material…for someone else.  He was just too good, as in, should wear a halo, for her to date.  She didn’t need a “bad boy” per se, but she had a weakness for guys who seemed like they could be a little villainous but were holding back.  Steve was incapable of being anything but a total sweetheart, and she loved him for it, but anything beyond friendship was off the table.  He had also been her connection to what would become a close-knit group of friends, and she would be forever grateful to him for it.

            One of the best things about her new life was finally experiencing all four seasons, and nothing could beat experiencing a full autumn, in her mind.  As much as she loved her hometown, there was no denying the lack of fall fun.  It was just too damn hot there, with temps still in the 80s halfway through October.  Not exactly sweater weather.  Also, the leaves rarely changed until late November, and by that point, people had tossed their pumpkins and put on holiday music.  She hated that.  December was just one big ball of stress as far as she was concerned.  Why would anyone want to extend the crazy an extra two weeks?

            Nornstown on the other hand, was a fall haven all through October, and it was incredible, especially for someone who had been denied that joy for three decades.  Colorful trees, leaves blowing in the chilly breezes, crisp air, scarves, jackets, hoodies, corn mazes and actual pumpkin patches within ten miles.  This place was all about spooks too.  The city might as well change their name to Sleepy Hollow.  One would think Jack Skellington himself was the mayor, for god’s sake.  Spider webs, skeletons, jack-o-lanterns and more adorned the streetlamps, stop signs, city hall, the parks, the schools…. you name it.  Amazing.

            Five years into her life in the southwestern corner of Connecticut, she was no less thrilled when she got to change the wall calendar in her kitchen on October 1st.  And, same as always, she would be no less depressed on November 1st, which was tomorrow …ick.  Maybe she was a bit sadder this year since it was the last Halloween of the decade, and it felt even more final somehow.  Eh, whatever. The next several hours were going to be fun as hell, and she would be crazy to miss out on it by moping.  So… here we go.

            Liv flicked on her porch light and stepped onto her front porch, locking her door behind her before setting a bowl of candy on her outdoor bistro table covered in spiders and webs.  Behind the table, her life-size animatronic Sam from 2007’s underrated comedic horror film Trick ‘r Treat swiveled his head slowly.  She hung a sign written in “dripping” blood red letters around his creepy burlap sack covered neck: Go ahead, take a handful…Hopefully you’ll live through the night.

            No, an empty threat made by a piece of wood wouldn’t stop kids from dumping the whole bowl in their bags, but it was definitely more fun than the lame take ONE piece only” post-its that people put out with their candy.  That, and it went with the sharply bitten lollipop in Sam’s hand.

            Head tilted, she scrutinized the set up, then readjusted her pumpkins sitting on the chairs next to the candy so they were more visible from the street.  Along with a few hundred purple mini lights strung underneath the webs across the porch and inside the landscaping, the whole thing looked fantastic.  Not too cluttered.  Not too minimal.  Definitely the creepiest and classiest house on the block.  Smiling, she nodded once, giving herself a mental pat on the back— especially for those pumpkins.  Honestly, they were flawless, and they’d been so fun to carve.

            Last weekend, she’d begged Steve and Sam (his best gym buddy and spotter who had just earned his black belt in Krav Maga and wouldn’t shut up about it) to come over and carve pumpkins.  They’d balked about it at first but had given in quickly when she’d promised to provide alcohol and pizza.  Sam had cut his to look like it was a face vomiting stringy seeds, declaring it a masterpiece while laughing at Steve’s ultra-boring triangle eyes and nose and mouth.  She’d made two: a bleeding heart with a dagger in it, and “I’ll be right back” in block letters on the second one.  She’d brought the drinks out after they were done handling knives since going to the ER because a drunk moron accidentally chopped off their finger wasn’t high on anyone’s bucket list.  They’d watched the first season of American Horror Story until one in the morning when the guys had passed out on her couch and loveseat, both of their mouths hanging open—Mmmm, so hot.  Their combined snoring had been a real treat, too.  Fun times.  Anyhow.

            Hurrying down the steps to the sidewalk, Liv checked the time on her phone.  She lived eight blocks from the bar where she was supposed to meet up with Steve at five-thirty.  They’d both left early from work to get a head start on the fun, but despite that, she was running late.  Walking faster, she shot him a quick text letting him know she was almost there.

Liv: Be there in 10.  Had to grab extra candy from the store on the way home since I only bought a hundred pieces last week like a MORON. Smdh

Steve: Just admit you were shaving your legs in case you get lucky with a certain bartender tonight. ;-)

Liv: ...

Steve: Trying to think of a clever response, aren’t you.

Liv: ...

Steve: So much for your “quick” wit.

Liv: …

Steve: I’m really disappointed in you, Livvy.

Liv: *middle finger emoji*

            Chuckling quietly, she slid her phone into her pocket then adjusted the strap of her black sling bag.  She popped her jacket collar to cover her ears since the sun would be below the horizon in a few minutes, and the minute it got dark, she would turn into an icicle.  While she fiddled with the top button, a group of shrieking costumed kids (probably already hyped up on sugar) nearly ran into her.

            “Woah, woah careful!” she yelled at them, panicking silently as they dodged across the street right in front of a car coming toward them that was going way too fast through a residential area on Halloween night.  Thankfully, the driver slammed on his brakes, screeching to a stop, barely avoiding a hit.

            Relief shooting through her veins, she bent down to glare at him through his open window. “What, do you get to level up if you kill enough trick-r-treaters?  You know these kids don’t respawn, right?”

            Looking her up and down, the guy revved the engine, then shouted over it. “I’d take you for a ride if you weren’t such a bitch.”

            “I’m heartbroken,” she deadpanned, eyes rolling so hard they might end up stuck there.  This boy was probably ten years her juniorー22 at most.  Not even old enough to rent a car.  Even if he wasn’t a total dick…gross.

            “Slow the hell down, son, and happy Halloween,” she said sweetly, giving him a fake smile as she turned on her heel and resumed walking toward the bar.

            Paying no attention to whatever moronic thing he shouted at her as he drove off in the opposite direction, she hurried to get to the crosswalk before the light changed on her.  She did not want to be stuck in this cold any longer than absolutely necessary, and since the sidewalk was packed downtown for the annual Masquerade Parade that would start at 6, it was already taking longer than normal to get to the bar.  Wishing she’d put on gloves, she squeezed through dozens of costumed bodies, freezing her ass off across the last two blocks.

            Swinging on its hinges four feet above the entrance to the bar, the gold sign reading “Odin’s Ravens” in old Norse red font protruded from the outer brick wall of the old three story building, an iron raven permanently perched on it.  Muffled music pulsed behind the wood-paned glass door, and as she pushed the handle and stepped inside, the sound sharpened into an appropriately creepy, rich synth-pop.  An absurdly dulcet voice rang clear as a bell through the packed house, the could-be-straight-outta-the-80s ear candy loud enough to wake the dead.  Pun intended.

            Under her feet, the ancient-looking solid wood floor planks vibrated from the thundering bass, and Liv breathed a sigh of relief, warming up the second the door closed behind her.  She had to push up on her toes to find Steve since the bar was probably in violation of maximum capacity fire codes at this point and being just shy of 5’4 had some serious disadvantages.  Spotting him sitting at the bar nursing a bottle of Sam Adams, she slid around vampires, zombies, witches, movie characters, and the animal-ears-plus-lingerie-equals-costume types to get to him.  She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, giving him a side hug once she finally reached him, and he turned to smile at her.

            Stepping down from his barstool, he gestured to it and helped her up onto the tall leather seat, then spoke directly into her ear. “I tried to save a seat for you, but it’s just too crowded.  You know how October 31st is around here.”

            She snickered at his awkward effort to force his body between her and the 200-pound werewolf sitting next to them. “You sure you’re okay to stand next to that thing?”

            Steve gave her a withering look. “His tail is digging into my back, but I think I’ll survive.”

            While he twisted, trying to find the most comfortable position, Liv chewed her lip, looking past him to check out her recent obsession working double time behind the bar.  Leaning her elbows on the counter and pushing forward to get a better view, she watched him efficiently and calmly take order after order, fill glass after glass, pour shots and more, all with a sexy little smile rarely leaving his face.  Oh god, her eyes were probably turning into actual hearts right now.  She would happily sit here and be subjected to lame drunk guys hitting on her if it meant she could just stare at that absolute dream.

            He had the kind of old school charm that made him a total lady killer.  For certain she had died the first time she’d seen him, and her thirsty, slack-jawed ghost had risen from the dead to haunt him every single day of the past month since he’d joined the Odin’s Ravens team.  Okay, so that was possibly the creepiest extended metaphor ever, but seriously.  She blinked lazily when his tongue darted out to lick his lips as he inserted someone’s credit card into the chip reader.

            Yeahhhh, she wanted to lick his lips too.

            “You’ll never guess what happened to me at work,” Steve said, his voice breaking her out of her wonderfully wicked thoughts, and she begrudgingly tore her eyes away from her pretend boyfriend.

            “Ummm,” she hummed slowly, her brain needing a second for his words to even register, “Maggie ‘My-Eyes-Are-Up-Here’ Carter charged into your office and begged you to take her roughly over the edge of your desk?”

            She laughed when he choked on his drink, his eyes going a little crossed. “You should see the look on your face.”

            He pointed to Liv. “Exactly that.  That is exactly what happened,” he stopped, waving a hand when her jaw dropped, “Kidding.  Sorry to disappoint. Believe me.”

            Her shoulders slumped. “There is no way the real story will be anything other than completely boring now.”

            “Oh, just wait for it, kiddo,” he snorted, pausing to take a sip from his drink. “So… new hire walks into my office and drops her HR file on my desk.  Says ‘hi, I’m Maerssyn, the new sales intern’ and-”

            “Wow.  Juicy stuff,” Liv said straight-faced, cutting him off, her fingers drumming on the counter with the beat of the song before the pronunciation of the girl’s name suddenly hit her.

            “Wait,” she cocked her head at Steve who was pressing his lips together as though trying to suppress a laugh, “did you just say her name was Martian?”

            At his nod, she raised an eyebrow. “As in, what Elon Musk wishes he were?  As in, a Matt Damon movie?”

            “Yup,” he said, exaggerating the ‘p’ with a pop, “but spelled M-A-E-R-S-S-Y-N.”

            Putting a hand over her eyes, Liv shook her head. “What kind of dumbass names their kid that?  And honestly, the completely nonsensical spelling makes it worse. Geezis Steve, were you able to say it without laughing?”

            “No,” he snorted, setting both elbows on the bar and leaning his head into his palms. “It’s awful, Livvy.  I saw her another four or five times today, and I cracked up every time because I kept picturing her as some Area 51 escapee.” He stood back up to his full height. “From the way she looked at me, I can’t tell if she thinks I’m stupid, or if she thinks I think that she’s stupid.  Either way, it doesn’t bode well for the manager/subordinate relationship.”

            “No, it doesn’t,” Liv laughed, struggling to breathe because of the ‘Area 51 escapee’ image in her head.

            “Anyway.  Then Maerssyn-” he rolled his eyes at the name “-said ‘nice to meet you Mister Rogers’ as she was about to leave.”

            “Huh,” Liv started, resting her chin between her thumb and forefinger, “so did you tell her not to call you that because every day is not a beautiful day in the neighborhood, and you want your name to reflect the reality of your life?”

            Eyes blowing wide open, his mouth fell into an open smile. “That is exactly what I said!  Get out of my head!”

            “Great minds, babe,” she smirked, giving him a high-five.  In her periphery, she saw her hot-enough-to-make-a-nun-terminate-her-vows crush muddling mint leaves inside a cocktail glass.  Lucky mint—she wanted him to muddle her.

            “But she didn’t understand that reference,” Steve sighed, puffing out his cheeks then letting the breath out in a whoosh.

            Liv turned her head sharply toward him, jaw on the floor.  If there was anything that could have pulled her away from unabashed gawking at human male perfection incarnate, it was someone being old enough to have a 401K but not knowing who Fred Friggin’ Rogers was.

            “Dude, that’s like not knowing who Kermit is or something!  Mister Roger’s Neighborhood is iconic!  Holy shit.”

            “I know right?” he picked his beer back up and lifted it to his mouth. “I’ve never felt so ancient in my life.”

            “Aw Steve,” she pressed her lips together, patting his shoulder, “don’t feel bad.  They probably just didn’t have after school public programming on her home planet.”

            Steve spewed his drink, bursting into such violent laughter that he choked, and she cackled at the sight.  Deadpan delivery nailed.  God, she hadn’t had one sip of alcohol, and she was already having a killer good time.

            Ha! —Halloween punーalso nailed.

            Once he could breathe again, Steve shook his head. “All jokes aside, I can’t believe extraterrestrial girl insulted one of my childhood heroes.”

            “If Fred Rogers is your hero, maybe y’shoulda come dressed as him.”

            They both turned toward the sudden voice, and it took everything in Liv to not moan at the sight of her drink-mixing daydream standing right across from her, both hands on the counter, a black dish towel slung over his shoulderーhis perfectly broad shoulder.  Normally he wore basic black tees or solid, dark-colored Henleys, but tonight he looked like he’d walked straight out of a Nirvana concert or something with a wrinkled blue plaid flannel button up hanging open over a white t-shirt.  Grunge style was not her thing, but honestly, the (literal) “I woke up like this” unwashed bed head thing he had going on tonight was working for her.

            “Well hi there, Olivia Foster,” he drawled, grinning crookedly at her.

            Don’t bite your lip—do NOT bite your lip, she told herself silently.  Two seconds later, she bit her lip.  Wow, great willpower.

            His voice would have been the death of her if she weren’t dead already.  Twinkling blue eyes, cupid’s bow lips, cheekbones as defined as his biceps, and that hair —luscious, dark, shining hair that was just long enough to have to push it behind his ears or it would fall forward into his eyes.  Would it be too much to ask of the universe to let her get her hands in it while cutting her lips on that sharp jawline?  Come on, throw a girl a bone.  She swallowed, hopefully not audibly, and smiled.

            “Well hi there, James Barnes.”

DEAD ALREADY CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 2: MMM…CORN SYRUP (BUCKY)

Visit the main Dead Already page HERE.

Dead Already Chapter links: ¹SWEET AS CANDY (LIV) ²MMM…CORN SYRUP (BUCKY) ³(November 2021) ⁴(November 2021)

CHAPTER ONE FEATURED MUSIC:

“THERE WILL BE BLOOD” BY KIM PETRAS

THEME SONG:

“CAROUSEL” BY MELANIE MARTINEZ