Page 8 of Turnabout Is Fair Cosplay
“Keep talking, and I will slap you in the face with one of my cacti.”
“Can you even reach them if I move them all to the top shelf?”
“Back off,” I snap. Mike wasn’t like this the day I met him. Yes, he was a presuming, psycho clown in the escape room, but that was just him being in character. Wasn’t it?
Chapter 3
It’s an afternoon last April, and I’m in my cubicle at McKinney, Rosenberg, and Wallace. My phone buzzes, and my brother’s name lights up the screen. “Why, hello, Adam.”
“Bea, I need a favor.”
It’s awful that these words bring me unmitigated joy, but trading in favors is a currency that I’ve always appreciated. Maybe it’s being a middle child. Maybe it’s the lawyer in me. Maybe after twenty-six years, I’m just an awful person. “I’m listening.”
“I need you to be an extra in some promo I’m doing for the escape room. I can’t afford to hire a model or actress. You’reclose enough to my target audience, especially if you leave your pantsuits at home.”
Eye roll. “We can’t all have yellow spandex in our closets.” I haven’t seen Adam’s escape room yet. It’s not open, and he said he didn’t want me seeing it until it was done. I have to admit I’m curious. “What exactly would I be agreeing to?”
“An evening of filming at the escape room. Heavy shadows and claustrophobic close-ups. That’s it.”
“Fine. But you’ll owe me.”
“Yeah, I’ll owe you big-time. Can you be here at five?”
“Not if you want me to show up looking like a blithe cliché of a young social media influencer. I’d be coming straight from work. As inpantsuits.”
“Fine. As soon as you can, then.”
I’m not a monster. I respect what my brother is trying to do. Pursuing his entrepreneurial dreams and eschewing law school takes guts. Particularly when our parents’ fondest wish is for all of us to be attorneys. Family legacy, etcetera, etcetera. Although lately, I’m wondering if their priorities haven’t shifted to grandbabies and matrimony. They’ve been less than subtle trying to set me up with “son of a friend of a friend” types. I’m happy to help Adam buck tradition. Gleaning a future favor out of it is a bonus.
After work, I head home to change, stop to pick up tacos, and make the drive down from Del Mar to Pacific Beach.
“You read my mind,” Adam says when I arrive and hand him a box of tacos. “Thanks, Bea.”
“You didn’t mention dinner, and I’m not about to spend all night on my feet with nothing to eat.” I inhale an al pastor taco.
Adam scrubs a hand over his face. “I need to allocate more funds for this kinda thing. As soon as I have funds. Thanks again for helping me out.”
My little brother’s sincerity is achingly sweet. “Of course.” I brush a few crumbs from my fingers. “Now where do I stand?”
He leads me down a twisting hallway of rooms. “I’ve got the cameras set up. Just walk in and try to ignore them. I’m not recording audio, so say whatever you want. Keep it natural.”
“Walk in. Don’t look at the cameras. And then…”
He shrugs. “Try to escape.” He slides open a creaking metal door, and I walk into a padded cell. Adam pushes a button on his phone, and a hidden door pops open among the padding. “Cool, right?”
I lean against the bars. “Incredibly.”
Adam smiles, snaps a couple of pictures, then leaves as I walk into the next room.
Bare lightbulbs flicker above me, plunging me in and out of darkness. Unlike the last cell, this one isn’t padded. A pattern of letters is scrawled across each concrete wall. Large H’s and A’s smeared in dark red cover every square inch of the walls.
The hairs stand up on the back of my neck. Someone’s in here. A different lightbulb flickers on, and I see a figure crouched in the corner, back to me. Blocking the only other door in the room.
I am going to kill Adam. Of course he’d lock me in here with one of his method actor hirelings and not tell me. “Hello?” I say.
I hear a wheezing, low chuckle. The light continues to flicker. I take a step closer. A man dressed in suit pants, suspenders, and a white shirt rises with the unsettling grace of a snake’s slow crawl.
I shudder in spite of myself. “You’re blocking the exit.”
