Neon & Nets (Venom Next Gen #1)

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Vivian

My little sister, Vanessa, peers at me through the computer screen. Usually, I’d video call her on my holowatch, but my hands are a little busy at the moment.

“Damn,” she says, sounding impressed. “That might be your best costume yet.”

“Not if I can’t get it fixed in time,” I grumble, jamming pins willy-nilly into the fabric. “And it’s interfering with the safety harness, which makes it completely worthless unless I can come up with a workaround.”

“You’ve got it,” Vanessa says, with all the confidence of someone whose current path to success is dependent on a college rubric rather than the manic whims of a total nutball.

I’m a freelance costume designer, and my business got a huge boost after my work with Cirque du Soleil last year. I was able to design some off-the-wall costumes around a desert theme and really let my freak flag fly. The good news? Tons of offers, both large and small, including commissions from around the globe, ranging from one-off LARP costumes for cons to ongoing design for performers around the Vegas area. I even got a movie deal, although it was with an indie studio, and I’m not convinced it’ll ever be released after all the drama that went down between the director and the screenwriter.

The bad news? Somehow, I’ve ended up working for Dante Giovanetti on his “Bring Back the Magic” Campaign. Based on the shit he’s pulling with my dad and brother for his hockey machinations, he wants all the magic, all the time.

Which is why I’m currently wearing a mermaid tail, zip-up mer-top, and shell-studded wig, while trying to solve a design flaw mere days before the act opens.

Fuck my life.

“Is this the only one that’s an issue?” Vanessa reaches off-screen for what appears to be a gallon of iced coffee and takes a long slurp of her drink.

“I’ve been on-site for the rehearsals, and I’ve had to make changes here and there. But this one…” I try to twist around to see my back in the mirror and end up shuffling in a circle like a dog chasing its tail. “It’s like one of those outfits that you need a crane to get out of just to pee. And I’m short on hands.”

“Is Mom there?” Vanessa asks.

I sigh. “Mom helped me get into it before she left for the store, but it’s just me now. Hey, can you take a screenshot and send it to me?” I position my back to the camera in what I hope is the right angle.

Vanessa obliges, which I appreciate, except that the shot ends up being a mostly useless image of my mer-butt.

“Dammit,” I mumble. Maybe I should call someone for help. Sage LeClerc is usually pretty handy in a crisis and she lives on this block. Maybe I can call her for assistance?

My holowatch, which I took off before the mermaid debacle, chimes to alert me to a call. I reach for where it lies on my worktable, forgetting that my legs are strapped together in a rubber sheath, and nearly wipe out. Vanessa tries to cover a laugh as I catch myself on the edge of the worktable with a very unladylike series of exclamations. I motion for her to be quiet while answering the call.

Dad’s harried face appears on the screen. “Viv? Kiddo? Any chance you can do me a huge favor?” He isn’t even fazed by my blue hair.

“Sure,” I say, because there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for Dad. “What’s up?”

“It’s the first day with the new head coach, and I forgot my tablet with all of my stats, strategies, and everything. I’m going to look like a total idiot if I don’t have it.” He rubs one hand down the side of his face. “I need it right now. Maybe you can tell Molly…?”

“She’s already at work,” I say. “But I can grab it. Any idea where you left it?”

“In my bag by the front door.” Dad rubs his forehead. “He’s gonna think I’m going senile. Judging from his lethal glare, I’m pretty sure he already dislikes me, and this isn’t going to win me any favors.”

I catch Vanessa’s eyes through the computer screen, and we both lift our eyebrows. Dad’s not usually nervous about his image, and he’s not the kind of guy most people instantly dislike. Weird.

“I’ll be there ASAP,” I tell him. He blurts a few thank-yous before hanging up.

“Sounds like the new coach is an asshole,” Vanessa announces. “Not very magical at all.” She loves our dad, but my relationship with him is… different. More complicated, and in some ways, deeper. My younger siblings always had Molly in the picture, but there was a time when it was just me and Dad, since my biological mom and dad were killed in a tragic car accident. Even though I was too young at the time to remember most of the details, I can’t forget the feeling. I grew up knowing that I had an uncle who turned into a dad who’d do anything for me. Getting him a tablet to help him save face in front of some crabby new boss is nothing.

“Looks like I’ve got to go,” I tell her. “Let me know how your exam goes?”

Vanessa grimaces. “Ugh, don’t remind me. Time to drink a vat of student commons coffee and cram my brain full of general electives garbage.” She signs off, too.

I make one more effort to escape my shimmering shackles, but it’s no good. I’ll have to ask for Dad’s help with the damn zipper. I stuff a change of clothes into a duffle bag and descend the stairs on my butt, since I can’t separate my feet. I summon an Uber with a few clicks through the app. On the way out the door, I grab the bag Dad accidentally abandoned and confirm that his tablet’s inside. It takes me so long to make it to the end of the driveway that the Uber beats me there.

The driver, a man in his forties with an uneven spray-tan, gives me once over as I hop into the back seat. “Not a word,” I tell him. “Not one word.”

He snorts and sets the destination. “This is Vegas. You can’t shock me, Ariel.”

He has a point. And he’s definitely getting five stars for getting me to the arena without a single comment about my fishy nethers.

My luck doesn’t hold. I shuffle-hop into the back entrance of the arena only to be met with stares and snickers from the Venom players.

“Nice outfit.” Viktor, my little brother, smirks. “You’re a real trend-setter.”

I flip him the bird. “Stuff it, twerp. I know the things you used to wear as a kid. Because I dressed you up in them.”

Knight, one of the kids who grew up in our neighborhood, offers me a genuine grin. “You look great, Viv. New gig?”

“It’s part of the new show at the Mona Lisa,” I tell him. I guess I shouldn’t call Knight a kid, given that he’s engaged to Sofia Rossi now, but I can’t look at him without feeling old. According to my Dad, the Venom is family, which means I’ve acted as their older sister since half of them were born. Heck, I’ve babysat most of them. I ignore the stares of the guy I don’t know as well and focus on one face I wasn’t expecting. Camden Beck greets me with an unsmiling wave.

“Hey, Viv,” he says. “Is that your dad’s bag?”

I nod and hold out the bag in question. “I got here as fast as I could.”

“Thanks.” He takes it from me. “I’ll get it to him. He was worried.” With that, he turns away.

Huh. I wonder what his deal is? I don’t remember him being so quiet, but he and his parents started moving around a lot for Stella’s photoshoots when he was pretty young, so I went years without seeing him much. He just moved back to Vegas for this season, but he doesn’t seem thrilled.

I make a mental note to look out for him, since he doesn’t have any biological family to fall back on. Only Venom family.

“Where are you headed next?” Viktor teases. “The oyster bar?”

I sock him in the shoulder, and he whines. “He ha. How come Camden’s being more helpful than you are?”

Knight smirks and pushes a lock of black hair out of his eyes. “Because he’s afraid that if he looks too competent, we’ll expect him to start pulling his weight on the ice.”

A few of the other guys snort, and they start tussling, and I am officially out. I need to get out of this tail, and there’s no way in hell I’m crawling out of this tail in front of a bunch of hornball twerps. I shake my head at their antics and shuffle off toward the offices in search of Renee, the team publicist, and the one woman who can reliably be found in the arena. I’m just glad there’s an elevator, because I was not looking forward to flopping up the stairs, like salmon swimming upstream for spawning. Even I have some vestige of pride left, small though it may be.

Renee is in her office, thank God, and she lets out a bark of incredulous laughter when she sees me. “Do I even want to know?” she asks.

“Long story. Ask Dante.” I wave her out into the hall. “Can you give me a hand?”

Unfortunately, Renee has even less luck with the zipper than I do. She grunts and groans as she wrestles with it. “Damn. How the hell did Molly get you into this?”

I brace my hands against the wall. “She’s stronger than she looks.”

A few minutes of messing around yield no results, and my patience is this close to fraying. If I don’t leave pretty soon, I’m going to be late getting this to the performer for today’s dress rehearsals, which means one less day to double-check my work, which means it’s that much more likely that something will go wrong with a show…

Deep breaths, I tell myself, although my arms have started to shake as my catastrophizing takes over. You’re not going to be stuck in this costume forever. You can always cut yourself out of it if push comes to shove.

Of course, then I’ll be forced to start from scratch, but this is show business. If something isn’t going wrong, it’s only a matter of time. I’d rather deal with this now than between live shows.

Renee’s phone rings from inside her office. Her hands drop from the zipper. “I’m sorry, Viv,” she says. “I’ve gotta take this. I’m not making any headway.”

“It’s okay,” I say, keeping my tone light. “This isn’t your job. I appreciate the help.”

She shoots me one last guilty look before darting back into her office.

For a long moment, I stand there, breathing hard. I still have my duffle. Maybe I should just go to the venue and try hooking myself up to the safety harness? There must be a way to salvage this.

I’m still pondering my options when I hear the squeak of soles on the cement. When I look up, there’s a guy standing in the hall, staring at me with his mouth open.

I don’t know this man. He’s hot as hell, but I’ve never seen him before. He’s definitely too old to be a player, but younger than my dad. Maybe he’s a scout or something.

Not that it matters. He looks like he’s strong enough to fight this damn tail and win, which is all I care about.

“Well?” I demand, lifting my chin. “Are you going to stare, or are you going to help me out of this thing?”