As the party bustled around him, Carlos Garcia adjusted the plastic fangs in his mouth and hoped that the fake blood on his lips hadn't smeared too badly. As he smoothed and adjusted his cape he snuck glances at the girl across the room. She was exactly the type that Steve had told him he should approach: a cute, perky looking gothess dressed as a slutty vampire. Her breasts were equally perky, accentuated by her tight top, and she had long legs covered in fishnet stockings. She seemed to be people-watching, sipping at a red solo cup and bobbing her head in time to the music that throbbed through the room.
Despite Steve's coaching, Carlos wasn't feeling particularly confident in his 'game' right now. Steve had a kind of slightly sleazy but unthreatening confidence that women seemed to love, not to mention the physique of a competitive swimmer (for the simple reason that he was one). Steve was already across the room chatting up a pair of girls dressed as police officers (albeit, police officers who seemed to be missing half their uniforms). He was dressed as Aquaman, which just meant he was wearing a speedo and carrying a gold-painted , plastic trident, and clearly he was going to be getting a lot closer to one or both of those girls tonight.
Carlos, in comparison, was nothing to write home about. He wasn't ugly by any means, mainly just aggressively plain-looking and unmemorable. People tended to forget that he was in the room if he didn't remember to cough from time-to-time to remind them. He and Steve had been roommates since freshman year and now, a year-and-a-half later, Steve had made it his personal quest to get Carlos laid. Steve loved being a wingman even more than he loved seducing women himself and Carlos had become his white whale.
Carlos steadied his breathing and took a gulp of punch from his own solo cup, wincing at the vodka mixed into the drink, to try and gather some courage. He recited the pickup line Steve had suggested like a mantra, trying to get it straight in his head. Steve had planned everything out: the costume, the type of girl to approach and the pickup line to use. According to him, the plan was foolproof.
Carlos wasn't so sure.
He slipped through the knots of chattering students towards the goth girl, careful to avoid letting his cape getting caught or snagged in the crowd. He clenched his jaws on his plastic fangs and slipped into the small, clear space around the edge of the room. As he approached the girl looked up, still sipping at her plastic cup, one eyebrow arched expectantly as he leaned awkwardly against the wall next to her. She eyeballed his cheap vampire costume, waiting for him to make the first move.
Carlos took another drink and, before he could collapse from embarrassment, he leaned slightly towards her and mumbled something unintelligible through a mouthful of plastic.
"What?" the girl leaned closer, trying to hear him over the sound of the party all around them.
Carlos blushed furiously and yanked his fangs out. Part of him wanted to just abort and vanish back into the crowd, but the warm buzz of the vodka in his drink was pushing him to keep going. Alcohol won, although not without consequences. "Who's going to suck...I mean should I suck? Fuck."
"Want to try again, dude?"
"Uh...I was trying to say...who's going to suck who?" The girl was staring at him, trying to decide how to react. The alcohol apparently thought that this meant she hadn't understood what he was trying to say, "Because...because we're both vampires. We, we both suck blood. Or like...other stuff."
"Wow." The goth girl gave him a look of half amusement, half pity. "Oh man. Where'd you get a line like that?"
"Sorry, that was lame." Carlos hung his head, face burning with embarrassment. "My buddy Steve thought it'd be a good introduction."
The girl followed his gesture to see Steve, who was somehow now talking to three girls dressed in police costumes. She let out an impressed whistle. "Yeah, I wouldn't take pickup advice from someone who looks like that. That's a guy who hasn't had to work for pussy a day in his life."
"Tell me about it," Steve was a fun guy but the cavalcade of girls he brought to their room was an annoyance. "Look, I'm really sorry to bother you."
"It's okay, dude," The goth girl's smile set Carlo's heart beating a bit faster, "If it helps, I'm not interested in guys. So you never had a chance to begin with."
Carlos laughed, "I suppose that does soften the blow a bit. Well, hop-"
"Carlos! There you are!"
The familiar voice cut through the din of the party and Carlos turned to see his friend, Becky Winslow. The two had known each other since middle school and both ended up at the local university together as well.
Becky was about half a foot shorter than he was, with light brown skin, dark hair and large brown eyes. She was currently wearing a Velma costume: a tight orange turtleneck, a red miniskirt and knee-high orange socks. The thick-framed glasses were her own, and her short hair was the right colors but instead of a neat bob, it was a mass of curls.
Becky was normally a loose-fitting, jacket-and-sweatpants kind of girl so Carlos was surprised to see how form-fitting her turtleneck was and how little her miniskirt covered. He'd been to the beach with her, so he knew she had an impressive figure but he was so used to seeing it wrapped in layers of rumpled earth tones that the sight of her dressed like this was a shock.
"Oh...uh. Hi Becky!" He gestured lamely to the goth girl next to him, "This is..."
He trailed off, realizing he hadn't her name at all. The girl grinned at him wickedly, absolutely refusing to help him out. Fortunately, Becky didn't seem to notice.
"Oh, hi there." She muttered, not meeting the other girl's eyes. Becky wasn't one for socialization outside of her small circle of friends and a few online communities that shared her interests. "You don't mind if I borrow Carlos right?"
"Not at all." The still-unnamed goth girl eyed Becky's outfit appreciatively and winked at Carlos as Becky grabbed him by the hand, "He's all yours."
As Becky pulled Carlos through the party he drained the dregs of his cup and tossed it into an overflowing trash can by the door of the frat house. Becky led him outside and the two of them emerged into the chilly October night together. It wasn't currently raining but everything was still coated in a clammy layer of dampness. The deep, pounding bass of the music resonated through the walls and the muffled sounds of the party could be dimly heard as well.
As Becky started tugging him towards the main campus, Carlos tugged back to slow her down. He knew that Becky could get a little single-minded and often took his participation in her current scheme as a foregone conclusion. "Hold on, what's up?"
"We're going to the library." Becky gave him a frustrated look, as though this were more than enough explanation.
"And why are we going to the library?"
