Okay, itâs not actually called Cupidville. Itâs actually a higher part of existence in the Veil, where all the in-between entities go for direction or assignment or whatever the hell else. Iâve only been to the part that inhabits other cupids, and Iâm only allowed to go when Iâm summoned. Like right now. Summoning is actually just a nicer way of saying pulled away from your duties because your superiors are pissed off at you. Yeah. Iâve been here before. Shocker, right? Itâs kind of like getting called to the Principalâs office. Except scarier.
Iâm yanked away from the human realm and before I can mutter a string of curses from the stomach-roiling sensation of flying through space and time, my body is dumped into a seat in a brightly lit room full of other cupids. Itâs like a giant doctorâs office, except instead of getting a checkup, weâre all getting promotions, demotions, assignments, orâ¦terminated. And termination for us means ceasing to exist. Gone. The End. Game Over. Snap of the fingers, just like that.
That part isnât on the brochure. No, really. There were brochures when I first signed up, complete with happy pink font that made being a cupid sound like the best job in existence. The devil is in the fine print. I really shouldâve read it all before choosing this as my after-life occupation, instead of getting caught up in the romance and a corny slogan: âBecome a Cupid: Spread love, sex, and desire!â
What? I was zero years old in the afterlife at the time. And itâs not like I was the only one who fell for it, considering the other pink-haired, red-winged people around me. Of course, weâre all still non-corporeal, even here, so no change there. The only difference is that we can actually hear and talk to each other. And itâs the only time I ever get to see other cupids. Surprise, surprise, there arenât that many of us. Considering how many realms we have to serve, itâs very, very, very rare to see another cupid when youâre working. So, yeah, as scary as it is to be sucked into Cupidville, itâs also kind of awesome because I can see and talk to other cupids. Itâs like a high school reunion where you kind of recognize everyone but you have no idea what the hell to talk about.
Inside the room, thereâs a huge reception area with some of the cupid superiors sitting behind glass, bustling around and looking extra busy. Every once in a while, a huge number displays on the wall with magic, lighting up to announce the next cupid in line to go forward. Right now, XLLL is on the screen. It wonât go in numerical order. Just by some strange unknown system.
To my immediate right is a twenty-something male cupid. I think Iâm around the same age. Without being able to see my reflection, Iâm guessing I look somewhere between twenty and thirty. The only reason I think this is because the last time I was yanked here, this other cupid called me âhot and ripe as hell.â Iâm pretty sure he was terminated later, but the compliment was nice. Iâm also pretty sure that twenty to thirty is a probable age range for âripe.â Unless Iâm a cougar. And letâs be honest, who doesnât want to be a cougar?
Anyway, the cupid guy sitting next to me is looking over at the wall where a huge poster hangs with the stupid cupid slogan. I hear him muttering under his breath. âFooking pile of steaming shite, that is.â
I like him immediately. I lean over to get more into his personal space. âI know, right! They trick you into believing itâs all fun and arrows and hearts, but in the real world, watching love and sex really starts to suck.â
He looks over at me and nods. âTell me about it. Had me for a fooking ride, they did,â he says in the most entertaining accent Iâve ever heard. âThe superior sold me like a bag of ice to a dry lake. Drank that shite right up.â
âHowâd they get you?â I ask. Itâs nice being able to talk to someone. Itâs almost worth getting in trouble. Itâs been years and years since the last time I was yanked. I canât even remember how long ago it was. âFor me, I was convinced it would be the most romantic job in all the realms. I was practically salivating for love when I signed up,â I admit. âCouldnât wait to get started.â
He raises a black brow. For some reason, our eyebrows arenât pink like our hair. I have no idea why. I also have no idea what color my eyebrows are, or my eyes. Cupid problems.
âTold me Iâd be spreadinâ all the sex I wanted, didnât they? Sold it like a fooking porno. Didnât realize not beinâ able to join in would be its own sort of torture. Iâm a virile guy, get it? I ainât cut out for this celibate shite. And the ghosts are seriously a drag. Fooking morose sons oâ bitches.â
I nod seriously. âI know, man. Believe me, I know.â
He shakes his head, swearing under his breath about what a pain it is to be a cupid. But boy, this guy is pretty. Luscious lips, thick, curly lashes, and cheekbones to die for. His pink hair sets his tan off rather nicely, too. I wish I had a tan. My skin is super pale. Like ghost pale.
We both look up as the next number flashes up on the wall. Another cupid, a little old lady sees it and sighs. She floats toward the reception area looking perfectly guilty. I wonder what trouble she was making to get yanked. She looks too sweet to be in trouble, like she should be somewhere baking cookies and knitting ugly socks that no one will wear.
âOnce, I went on a Love-Strike in my city,â I say to my new cupid friend. âI didnât give out any Love for a month straight. I was yanked here for it. As punishment, they tripled my Love quota for an entire decade,â I say, shaking my head at the memory. âA decade! By the time I was done, I was so sick of shooting arrows that I wouldâve run myself straight through with one of them if I could.â I tried. Didnât work. Iâve tried all my powers on myself. Iâm sure every cupid here has. Our powers donât work on ourselves.
He shudders at my story, because he knows how giving out a surplus of Love can get complicated quick. âThey can shove their fooking Love quotas right up their hairy arses,â he says, making me laugh loudly. I get the stink eye from one of the superiors. Yeah, apparently they like the cupids to be quiet and demure.
âI got sent to the troll realm as punishment once.â
I swivel to look at him again and gasp. âNo!â
He nods with a grimace on his pretty face. âYup. I wasnât givinâ anyone the Lust, you get it? I was on a strike of my own if you catch my drift. If I couldnât get any, no one else would, neither. When the superiors caught on, they sent me to the troll realm for an entire year. Those gobshites are the ugliest mother fookers Iâve ever eyed. I had to Lust âem, and believe me, their idea of fooking ainât pretty. Plus, they lay eggs after. And I donât mean months later, I mean after. Covered in sex juices and steaming.â
Itâs my turn to shudder. It makes my decade long Love-surplus seem tame in comparison. âThese cupid superiors are sadists.â
âWhat did you do to land you here this time?â
âNothing!â I say defensively. âWell, barely anything,â I amend. âI did something, maybe. I didnât even get a chance to really start, though. And I havenât been giving Love out, either. But geez, theyâre so touchy these days.â
âYep. New management, I heard.â
âShit.â
He nods. âYouâre tellinâ me.â
Before I can ask him what he did, I see my roman numeral, ML, pop up on the screen. âShit,â I say again. âThatâs me.â
âGood luck cupid thousand-fifty,â he says with a nod.
I look down at his wrist where the letters DCCXX are. âYou too, seven-hundred twenty.â I want to give him a fist bang, but since we donât have real bodies, it would turn awkward quick. So instead, I just raise a fist in bitter cupid solidarity. âKeep it real.â
âAye. You fooking know it.â
I float my way towards reception and stop in front of the glass where a superior cupid with a pinched face glowers at me. Her pink hair is in an up-do that looks like a soft serve ice cream cone. âCupid one thousand fifty?â
I nod and show her my arm. âYep, thatâs me.â
She looks at some papers and trails her finger down a column of writing. âCupid one thousand fifty, report to room forty-three. Take door number one, go down the hall to the left. Follow the numbers. Thank you for your Loving service. Have a Cupidly good day.â
She says everything with zero expression and in complete monotone, so naturally, a giggle bursts out of me unbidden. She glares daggers at me. âSorry,â I mock whisper, mimicking a motion to zip my mouth closed.
I quickly turn and find the door with the number one on it and go inside, heading down the hallway. Everything is white, and just like she said, thereâs door after door, all of them numbered. The doors are shaped like hearts, just in case we forgot we were cupids or something. The propaganda around here just doesnât end. Finally, I reach door number forty-three. I knock on it and hear someone call for me to enter. At least I think he does. He couldâve just cursed me out or read out an ingredient from the recipe for the perfect chocolate chip cookies. I wouldnât know either way. But now I really wish I had a tangible tongue so I could eat a chocolate chip cookie. Those things look delicious.
Inside is a small office, where a superior cupid sits behind a desk. Heâs middle-aged, and his wings are tucked in tightly against his back as he watches me enter. There are piles of papers all over the desk, and an hourglass trickling sand down its center. The pieces of sand are shaped like hearts, because of course they are. The propaganda, remember? Itâs Cupidville.
âPlease, sit.â
I do, but itâs not really sitting, since my body is still ghost-like. I just manage to make it look like Iâm hovering over the chair. He makes it look much easier, but then, since heâs a superior, his body is more corporeal than mine, letting him actually touch the papers on his desk. Iâm super jealous. I wonder if he can touch a chocolate chip cookie? Wait, can he a chocolate chip cookie?
âCupid one thousand fifty,â he says, interrupting my thoughts. He picks up a file folder with my number on it and starts flipping through it. âHuman realm. In service for fifty-six years.â
âThatâs me,â I say brightly, plastering a huge smile on my face. Because he canât be too mad at me if Iâm super-friendly, right?
He looks up at me and cocks a brow. Okay, so maybe I crossed over from super-friendly, to semi-crazy with my too-wide smile. I quickly take it down a notch.
âYouâve been disciplined five times in the past. This is your sixth visit,â he says, looking up at me from the file.
âWhich is pretty good right? Thatâs, like, only once a decade on average,â I point out, still smiling.
âIs that amusing to you?â
I wipe the smile from my face. âNo, nope. Definitely not, sir.â
âHmm. Well, despite your transgressions, youâve been somewhat of a success in your duties,â he says, surprising me. âNothing remarkable, but youâre a decent cupid.â
Iâm decent? I wonder who the real screw-ups are if he thinks Iâm decent.
âStill, considering the number of transgressions youâve been guilty of, weâve decided to move you into another realm.â
My eyes widen and I gasp. âDonât send me to the trolls!â I blurt out before I can stop myself. âI donât want to see their steaming sex eggs!â
He pauses his perusal of my file. âWho said anything about trolls?â he asks with exasperation.
I clear my throat and force myself to sit back down.
I am terrible at playing it cool. âSorry. No one. I mean, I heard about them. The trolls, that is. Sometimes theyâre used as punishment, right? But you didnât say trolls. I hope you donât say trolls in the future. Because I donât want to go to the troll realm. You werenât going to say that, were you? Iâd even take another Love-Surplus over the troll realm. Oh, gods, Iâm giving you ideas, arenât I? Iâm just going to shut up now.â
Iâm finally able to shut my yapping mouth. Itâs embarrassing how long it took.
The superior clears his throat. âAre you done?â
I nod like a mad woman, not trusting myself to open my mouth again in fear of more word vomit.
He eyes me for a moment longer, as if to make sure I really am going to keep my trap shut. After a moment, he puts my papers back inside my file and puts it down on the desk, folding his hands over it all official-like. Iâm so nervous that Iâm frozen in place.
Finally, he says, âYouâre being sent to the fae realm.â
I blink at him several times. I open my mouth and then close it again. I blink some more. âIâm sorry, what?â
âThe. Fae. Realm,â he says slowly, like Iâm an idiot. âYouâll no longer be serving humans.â
âThe faeâ¦butâ¦I mean, isnât that a promotion? Like, lots of cupids ask to be transferred to the fae realm, right?â I ask, and my nervousness takes control of my mouth again. âI donât know why. Humans are just fine. Not that Iâm saying I donât want to go to the fae realm. The fae realm is awesome. Really great. Iâve heard super things about the fae realm. Much better than the troll realm. Iâd love to go to the fae realm. I just thoughtâ¦I was getting disciplined? Or maybe terminated? Not that I want that! I donât want to go poof. Or at least, I heard thereâs a poof. Like we just disappear in a pink cloud and we cease to exist. Not that Iâm asking for a termination demonstration. Iâm not. You wonât poof me, right? No, because youâre sending me to the fae realm. Wow. The fae. Am I not in trouble?â
Gods. Itâs like I just canât help myself.
He looks like heâs completely done with me. If there were a magic button on his desk that said, âGet Her Away From Me,â heâd press it. We sit in awkward silence, staring at each other for several minutes until he composes himself enough to deign to speak to me again.
âCupid one thousand fifty. You are hereby being transferred to the fae realm. Donât screw up, or you may be in line for termination for your next disciplinary meeting. And yes, youâd go âpoof,â he says, leaning forward slightly, making me lean back.
If I had a heart, it wouldâve just tripped and fallen down in my chest. âOh, you got it, sir. No trouble from me. You can bet your wings on it. Iâll be too busy spreading Love and Lust around to be getting into any trouble. Iâll get them sexing and loving in no time. Iâm all over it, sir. You can count on me. No need for poofing.â
He just shakes his head at me and sighs. Then he press a button, but this one says âFaeâ and just like that, Iâm being yanked out of the cupid office and thrown into the fae realm.