After about an hour of getting absolutely nothing done, Rory decides to call it a day. There is no point in trying to make herself work at this point, she'd be better off trying again tomorrow with a fresh start.

A fresh start...

As Rory closes up the room and makes her way out of the music hall, outside into the brisk fall air, she ponders the idea of a fresh start.

What would that look like for her? A new town? A new job? Rather than a fresh start, what if she could just start completely over? Would she make the same decisions? Would she be the same person? Would she have ever become a demon hunter?

A life without demons...The thought almost makes the girl laugh. Once you cross the circle, your fate has already been sealed. Whether it be this lifetime, or the last, or even five lifetimes from now, Rory would be in the same exact spot. This she knew.

Rory stops at the crosswalk and waits for the walk signal to come on. In the midst of her thoughts, Rory feels something brushing against her legs. She looks down to see a mass of black, fluffy fur. A cat, or kitten rather judging by its tiny frame. The little animal is purring up a storm as it weaves back and forth between Rory's feet.

"Well, aren't you fucking cute..." She says and the kitten looks up to her with its big green eyes as if to say, That's fucking right, or at least that's what Rory is choosing to believe the cat is thinking.

With a beep, the crosswalk light flashes and white walking symbol and Rory tells the cat she has to go. She bends down to give it a quick pet goodbye, but right before she touches it, the kitten flashes it's teeth and viciously bites down on Rory's hand, hard.

"What the fuck?" She exclaims as she bounces back a couple feet. She cups her injured hand to her chest, blood pooling around her fingers and dripping onto the ground below her. Her guard is up now as she glares over at her attacker.

The kitten is still sitting at the edge of the sidewalk, blood covered around its mouth. It lifts a paw and calmly begins cleaning it as if it just hadn't tried to take Rory's hand off a moment before. Rory doesn't know it managed to slip by her before, but the way her hairs stood up on end and the pit forming in her stomach, she knew this wasn't just some lost kitten. The kitten makes eye contact with her as she thinks this, as if to say, that's fucking right, and Rory sneers at the demon.

Albeit a weaker demon, it is still definitely a demon. Demons on their own are usually too weak to survive in the human realm by themselves. They usually require a host. They feed off fear and doubt, which is why weak-willed humans are their most delectable targets, like the boy from the other day. But, the easiest targets of all are animals.

For the most part, they are not much of a threat. Demons typically latch to the will of their hosts and most don't usually have the will to harm. Even so, there is still the risk of them transferring hosts so it is better to rid them as soon as possible.

As if sensing Rory's intent, the cat bolts down the sidewalk. She watches as it disappears out of sight, not bothering to chase after it. It's probably fine, she decides. She can't find the energy to care right now. After the week's events, Rory needed a break. The thoughts piling up in her head and the duties of life were getting too much, she needs an out, even if temporary.

Her way out happens to come in the form of a text from Zane, party tonight? Rory doesn't have to think twice as she sends back a thumbs up.

+++

Asta sits on the edge of the bed and silently watches as Rory rummages through her clothes. He's being unusually quiet, but Rory doesn't question it and instead relishes in the peace.

Deciding on an outfit, she starts changing, giving no mind to Asta. She is long past the point of being shy in his presence. He's always there, he sees everything, Rory couldn't hide if she tried.

When she is done changing, she catches a glance of him in the mirror. He appears relaxed, hands resting on his crossed legs, but Rory can see the dark clouds moving behind his eyes, like a brewing storm. It makes her hair stand on end. "What?" Rory finally barks.

She watches as Asta's lips slowly curl up into a smile. "How long has it been since your last kill, Ror?" He casually asks and Rory's body tenses. "You shouldn't keep them waiting," He continues, his voice light, but his eyes bearing a darker glint, "Who knows what they'll do this time."

"I have it under control," Rory shoots back as she pulls a hoodie over her head, trying to be as nonchalant as possible.

"I hope you do," Are Asta's last words before he's gone. Rory turns around and stares at the empty spot the demon was just moments before. What the fuck was that about, she wonders. Deciding not to dwell on it, Rory grabs her phone and exits the room.

After a ten minute bus ride and a short five minute walk, Rory can hear the party before the house comes into view. The bass vibrates in the air and thrums along her skin, beating alongside her heartbeat. She doesn't immediately recognize the tune, judging by the temp and the muffled trap beat. Music is an important aspect to any party. It gives you an insight to what type of people you are dealing with and what type of bull-shit you can expect.

It was pleasantly chilly earlier in the day, but as soon as the sun sank below the trees, it turned from pleasant to kind of miserable. Rory was okay in her hoodie, but her legs remain victim to the brisk air, only a thin pair of fishnet leggings protecting them. Rory knew that she wasn't going to be outside for long, and from the way Zane hyped up this party, it was going to be packed.

Rory rounds the corner and if the loud music or Zane's assurance of 'you can't miss it' wasn't enough to find the place, the many beer bottles littering the yard and the group of guys excitedly playing beer pong on an old air hockey table definitely is.

Stares burn into her back as she walks past them and makes her way up the front steps. There are a couple groups of people chatting on the porch, red solo cups in hands, and Rory brushes past one to get inside.

Instantly, she is met with an influx of people, sound, and most importantly, warmth. The main lights are off and it's dim inside, but a mini disco ball hangs from the ceiling, shooting beams of different colors around the room.

Almost everyone is wearing a glowstick of some sort, most of them either around their neck or on their wrists. Rory didn't really notice it when she was outside, but the house is bigger than she thought it would be. The living room is packed with loud music blaring from the sound system on the other side of the room. Everyone is bouncing up and down, singing and dancing and shouting over each other and the whole place is literally shaking.

The door slams shut behind her and Rory tries to scan the room for any signs of her friend. The 6ft boy is usually easy to spot in any crowd, but Rory can hardly make anyone out in the current light. She guesses it's time to go in.

Managing to shimmy between the mass of bodies in the living room, Rory enters the dinning room where it's a little less crowded and better lit. There's a large table in the middle of the room with a group of people in the middle of a card game.

A guy is reading the words off a card and his speech is so slurred that Rory can't make out what he's saying, but it must be the funniest damn thing because the entire table erupts into a roar of laughter. In their drunken stupor, someone knocks over a drink into their lap, which causes even more laughter.

Rory is about to move on to the next room when she freezes in her step. She recognizes one of the faces sitting at the table. Square glasses, big puppy dog eyes, another plaid shirt. His gaze meets Rory's for a split second and she stiffens, heart skipping a couple of beats. No hint of recognition passes his face, and he turns his attention back to his cards, but takes a few more moments before her chest calms. Memories she's tried to ignore come flooding in. That unsettling encounter with that demon, they way it knew her, said her name-

And the voices are there again, they always are, whether she is listening or not. They tangle in with the beat of the music and ride around the edges of everyone's conversation, always finding their way to the poor girl.

For a second, it's almost too much. The music, the people, the voices; they're all blending together and spinning, her stomach spinning, her head seeing circles-

"Rory!" She nearly punches the owner of the voice as he sneaks up behind her and grabs her shoulders. The voices immediately recede, where they will lay dormant until their next chance to invade.

"Easy there, Tiger," He chuckles. Unlike the shrill, whispering voices that creep into the air, his voice is deep and warm and, Rory wouldn't never admit aloud, comforting.

Like a switch, the world is still again and Rory realizes how heavy she was breathing, her heart rapping against her chest. A slight still fear creeps up her spine and lodges in the back of her throat, but she shoves it down as much as she can. Taking a deep breath, She turns around to meet a grinning Zane.

His curly mop of hair is adorned with a bright pink glow stick, wrapped around his head like a crown, and his blue eyes twinkle with mischief. In each hand, a red solo cup full of a questionably colored liquid is being held and Rory senses that he's in mid-swing party mode.
His cheeky expression turns into one of slight concern as he finally takes a good look at her.

"You good?" He asks, "You look like you've seen a ghost." Rory rolls her eyes at his choice of words.

"Yeah," Rory replies, trying to remain casual. Usually they would laugh if off, like they always do, but they both catch their way, her breath hitches and the short awkward silence that follows and Rory finds an interesting spot on the wall on the other side of the room.

"Okay!" Zane suddenly announces, the mischievous glint returned to his eyes, "I know exactly what you need." He hands one of his cups out to Rory and just like that, whatever was left hanging in the air dissipates and it's Rory and Zane again, like it's always been.

Rory accepts the drink without a word and takes a long swig of it. After downing the cup, Rory grimaces, "God, that tasted like shit. What the hell was that?"

Whatever it was, it was strong, and she can still feel the burning in her throat and the warmth rising to her cheeks. "Oh, it's one of those nights, huh," Zane muses and takes a swig of his own drink.

The taller boy wraps an arm around her and staggers into her touch. The smell of alcohol slips off his breath and dances with whatever cologne he's wearing, making Rory wrinkle her nose. "The Aurora Special," He whispers into her ear, lips brushing against her ear, ever so slightly. Maybe it's the fact that he used her real name, or maybe it's the fact that it was him saying it, Rory didn't know, but she likes the way it rang in her ears.

"How fucked up is that gonna get me?" Rory questions and Zane digs around in his jacket pocket before holding up a small wrapped piece of chocolate in front of her face. She recognizes it immediately.

"Depends, how fucked up do you want to be?"