"Ugh. Fridays are always crappy…." Grunting, I scanned the computer's screen looking for the flaw in the algorithm that made the application become a jangled mess. Not finding it for the umpteenth time, I leaned back in the desk chair and made an exasperated noise in the back of my throat.
"The program's still whipping your ass?" Turning my head slightly, I saw a young witch in her early 20's carrying a tray of steaming cups. Rebecca Young was a graduate student enrolled in the same university and department that I was in. We met during our first year here and became fast friends; with her gentle, almost naïve persona and sarcastic personality, we balanced each other out well.
Her mother's family came from an extensive line of witches, claiming to have been directly descended from Tituba herself; thus, she had a lot of pool in the Arcane world. Once her great times five grandfather, a tenacious man named Mark Bawling's, implemented the usage of cursed runes as security locks, their fame only grew. Her hazel eyes crinkled in humor, and a long loc of curly sandy-colored hair hung limply in her face. Using a well-manicured finger, she pushed the loc out of her face.
"I bought battle juice." Smiling softly, she placed a cup next to me, and circling the laboratory's desk, took a seat across from me. Taking the cup graciously, I took a small sip and sighed happily. "Have I ever told you that I loved you? Because I do. I mean, honestly, like, let's just drop out right now and get married. We'll move to a small island where it's just the two of us and a bunch of locals, open a fruit stand and sell mangoes while raising our 3 fur babies until we're old and wrinkled." She laughed merrily and shifted to rest her head on her palm. Gazing at me with affection, she pursued her lips in thought.
"You do know we are broke, right?" More like I'm broke. You're filthy rich.
"Psh! Details. We can live off our love." Waving a hand at the trivial details, I went back to trying to fix the jacked data.
"And the mango profits. Don't forget the mango profits."
"Never forget the mangoes." After a couple of minutes of trying to finesse the system and the algorithms, I stood up from the computer. "Ugh, I don't even want to look at this anymore. Becca, can we leave this alone and tell Professor Alvarez that the data is corrupt?" Shaking her head, she took a single finger and tapped the top of the laptop. "You should have changed your major to Herbology like I did."
"And be a sellout? Never." I hissed, taking a seat back in my abandoned chair. While it was true that Herbology was on a lower rung and less intensive than my chosen major in Alchemy, it didn't offer the hands-on experience that I was looking for. Besides, what could you even possibly do with a degree in Herbology without the practical application? "Suffer then," Becca shrugged in indifference and started twirling her hair. "Any who, have you decided what you were going to do for your field experience?"
I let out a long sigh again and pushed away from the desk. The field experience or practicum was the only thing left for graduate students in the Potions track. Almost like an internship, it allowed the students to get real-life experience in their chosen field. Afterward, students had to take the State Alchemy Test, which was federally funded and mandated. While I heard that getting your Experts License in Potion Making was a painless experience, those that wanted to get their master's license had to go through five rings of hell. It was even worse for those wanting to get their Grandmaster's license. Pfftt, at least I wasn't taking the transmutation exam. The last person I heard taking that test was some guy and his brother who liked being in a suit of armor.
"I'll take that sigh as a, no?"
The truth of the matter was that I had almost applied everywhere. However, it was virtually impossible to find a solid gig between most places not wanting to pay their interns or not having any open positions. Giving her a look, I quickly saved my work and logged off. Standing up, I stretched my long legs and looked around the lab. Dr. Alvarez had stated that after I had worked on the data and did as much as I could, that it was okay to leave it as is since he would be pulling an all-nighter with the data, I had offered to stay with him to try and help, but he simply declined. Stating that my lack of magical energy would only hinder this process rather than help it, which was the subtle way of him saying that I was useless.
"I'm hungry. Wanna get something to eat?" Becca nodded happily. "I was hoping you would ask." Getting up as well, we collected our things and left the lab, not without locking it up, of course, and made our way out of the Potions building. Walking into the adjacent parking lot, I spotted Becca's beat-up red pick-up truck and let out a low whistle. "I didn't know the rust bucket was still in commission! I thought you said you were getting a new car this week?"
She nodded and unlocked the doors for us to get in. Being careful not to spill the tea that she had bought for me, I crammed into the truck and placed my belongings in between my feet. "I'm getting the car customized. Daddy said that the white paint was too dingy, so now we're painting it candy red."
I nodded absently and looked out the window as she slowly made her way to the overcrowded parking lot. What I wouldn't do to have a wealthy family that would buy me whatever I wanted.
"That's dope."
"I know! Anyway, where did you want to eat? I'm craving Wally's" The local Tex-Mex cantina, which was located downtown in the southeast warrens. Wally's is known for making the best enchiladas and burritos in the whole city of Hollowmoon Bay. The only downside to the place was the watered-down drinks they called cocktails and margaritas.
"I am craving a burrito smothered in queso right about now." Smiling ever so slightly, Becca started turning the wheel to change lanes. The conversation lulled into a soft banter as we continued our journey, me asking Becca about her week and giving her wisecracks about the quality of it, her talking about my lack of social life and general social awkwardness around new people in reference to meeting the Head of the Alchemy Department.
"I'm just saying, you're pretty enough like you're easy on the eyes, but you are so awkward it's not even funny! I swear Grandmaster Zavier's looked like she wanted to be anywhere but at the luncheon!"
We arrived at Wally's and not seeing any spots in the front of the stores that litter the block; she was forced to go into the alleyways and take the parking located in the back. Hollowmoon Bay is a large port city found in the Coastal part of Virginia with a large population of at least 200,000+. Divided into different districts, the city was a cultural haven for both the depraved and the wealthy. The more affluent parts stayed in the upper northern areas, and the less fortunate were in the southern districts nicknamed the Warrens. Despite the danger of the regions, the Warrens quickly became a spot for the depraved, for both wealthy affluents and otherwise. Near the docks, in the Southeastern warrens, "massage" parlors, clubs, liquor stores, and bars littered the blocks. Southwestern Warrens were more of the 'tame' area, little knick-knack shops and stores littered that area, and not all items there were legal.
"I answered her question! It's not my fault that she didn't know what to follow up with." Shaking her head, we walked out the alleyway and down the street, making our way into Wallys. The cheap decorations and well-lit atmosphere were like a second homecoming. Seating ourselves, we waited patiently for someone to come by.
"But no, seriously. Are you having trouble with finding field experience? You know you have to complete one to graduate." A headache was starting to form, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes violently. I know Becca meant well, but her reminding me every two hours about the field experience did nothing but give me a headache.
"Rebecca, if you have any suggestions or secret connections then please, hook me up. But otherwise, just drop it."
She pursued her lips and quickly whipped her phone out. Typing out something, she quickly flipped her phone around.
"Have you applied here?"
It was an internship for the Agency of Supernatural Security, a federally funded organization that worked with the human world and the supernatural. They were known for dealing with a plethora of things, ranging from trivial to severe, and while their presence was very much known, there was still a significant amount of secrecy that shrouded them. They were one of the few internships offering to pay students, and with Professor Alavarez's urging, I had applied for it three weeks ago. They had sent an email and an official letter saying that I had passed the preliminaries and asked me to fill out a couple more forms. After doing that, however, I hadn't heard anything since.
I had to have been knocked out of consideration.
"Becca, I applied to that one three weeks ago." Nodding in understanding, she started looking again. Sighing, knowing the type of mood she was about to get herself into, I gently grabbed her hands. "Hey, it's okay. I'll find something; besides, I've got about four more months before Spring Semester starts, so I have time." Her eyes were downcast as she bit her lip, but she ended up nodding with a bit of hesitation.
The waiter, Raphael Santana, a childhood friend of mine, came over and took our orders. We lived in the same neighborhood down in the Southwestern districts until I moved out of my parents' house during my first year of college. He had stayed home, not wanting to leave his family alone, especially down in the warrens by themselves. We were still closer than ever, even with the absence of not seeing each other every day.
"- and let me tell you that bendejo had the nerve, the audacity to stand ME up! ME! Men have to be slowly degrading in the commonsense market."
Holding my sides, I tried to stop the stitch that was starting to develop. "Ugh, I hate you! Why would you even tell us that." Wiping the tears from my eyes, I took wheezing breaths as I tried to control myself. Becca was in no better of a situation; she had gone completely red from laughing and was doing her best not to cry out from the sheer humor of it all.
Raphael curled his lips and flipped his medium-length hair. "The tension was killing me, loves. It's been SOOO depressing down in the warrens!"
Tilting my head, I raised an eyebrow. "I mean, it's the warrens. Most people who live here have a shit ton of reasons to be depressed." Waving me off, he shook his head. "Ah, but this is different! Women have been going missing in the Southeast quarters, all the same age around 20 to 30."
My eyes widened, and I looked at him with disbelief. There were always petty crimes committed there, robberies, maybe a few fights, hell, even prostitution rings. But people going missing was not.
"That's…"
"Terrifying!" Becca finished.
Pursuing my lips, I rubbed the lobe of my ear and nodded absently. That's not the word I would use for it. Intriguing was more like it. Hollowmoon Bay was less than a picturesque utopian city; however, missing women were an anomaly. Bodies were always found if someone went missing here, and captors/murderers were quickly thrown in jail. If no one had a clue where these women were, something much more sinister was probably happening.
The two moved on from the talk of them women, now discussing Becca's new purchase at Vue 22. 'How quickly do they put aside something that doesn't directly affect them.'