By: Rosa Swann
Roy never thought that one party with his sexy new neighbours would turn his whole life upside down!
Roy’s life exists of work, dinner and sleep, boring. His friends are getting married, or having kids, and he sits home alone, too focused on his job to have much of a social life, let alone a love life.
Then he finds a letter on the doormat, an invitation to a housewarming party next door. There he meets Clyde and Sam, they seem interested in him as more than just neighbours, and definitely ready to explore if that interest is mutual.
But why does he feel like there is more going on between the three of them? And why are Clyde and Sam acting all weird the next morning?
I sneak a look at the mansion next door as I walk past it on my way home. For the past few days moving vans were in the driveway, but now they are gone. The house seems dark and quiet though, as if no-one is home right now.
I stop at the front gate and peer through the bars. The garden is covered in trees and sculptures, creating light and dark spots and hiding some of the house from view from the street. Why are they hiding? Are they keeping some secret? Not that I should care, it isn’t like this neighbourhood is very close.
The neighbours haven’t been out much, though I have seen their dog a few times. A demon of a creature, big, furry, and probably closely related to wolves. I don’t really like dogs, especially big ones, one killed our cat when I was just a kid and the image of the creature holding the bloody body of my pet has never left my darkest nightmares. I hope that the neighbours keep their dog inside the gates, or at least on a very short leash when they go out. A shiver goes through me as I remember how last night it had seemed almost like a ghost going through the garden, the white fur brightening in the moon light as the rest of the garden was covered in a blue-ish glow. Spooky.
I take the steps up to the door of my house, unlocking it, and putting my jacket on the hooks next to the door. On the door mat there is a white envelope, it has my address on it but not my name or a stamp. I open it and take out a simple white card. On the one side there is an image of some roses and on the other side there is a short message:
We would like it if you could join us at our housewarming dinner this Saturday at seven.
Clyde and Sam
Under their names is the address. I look at it again, that is the number of the mansion next door. Wow. I haven’t gotten any housewarming invites from any of the other neighbours and I’ve been living here for almost five years now.
Five years, that is a long time to be single. I moved here when my ex and I broke up and ever since I either couldn’t find the time or the guts to get back into dating. Work and promotions have a way of keeping a man occupied. Though, last summer was one of the worst I’ve had yet. Friends were either getting married or were having kids. Me? I was always the single guy, going to these parties without anyone at my side. I saw the looks they gave me, pity and worry. I love my friends but I just didn’t have that drive to settle down. Though lately, I’ve been feeling lonelier than before.
Hmmm, maybe the party is a good idea. Meeting people, new people, maybe even new friends.
I laugh at myself, well I could always hope.
* * *
Should I put my hair up or down? I’m uncertain, something I never used to be about my looks. I pull the hair tie out of my hair, letting the long dreads fall to my face. Okay, this is too casual. I drag the dreads back up and tie it back, I guess up it is then.
I look at myself in the mirror one last time. I should be fine, semi-casual, semi-formal. A white dress shirt that sets off my tanned skin well and jeans that hug in exactly the right places. It’s all tight enough to be good looking but not to be too tight to be indecent, I don’t want to scare off the new people next door. I’m surprised that I still fit into these clothes because it has been a while since I’ve been trying to impress anyone.
I take my jacket from the chair and grab the bottle of wine from the kitchen table.
Time to party.