FICTION — SHORT STORY

The Devil Made Me Do It

A Night Ride She’ll Never Forget…

Thank you to @susimoore for this prompt in Photo Prompts — Musers and Scribers! Photo Prompt 1- Night Ride.

Admittedly, Fiona was a terrible bartender. About the only thing she was good at was popping bottle caps. Her martinis were the strongest in the city. So strong, that she was losing the club money. And she couldn’t pour a proper beer if you paid her, and well, that wasn’t happening anymore. Because she got fired.

She was embarrassed and feeling desperate. That was the third job she got fired from in as many months. She grabbed her purse from her locker and changed back into jeans and a sweater. She wasn’t about to run around the city in her corset.

Her boss paid her out for the night, and she collected her tips. Two-hundred and fifty dollars. That was officially all that she had to her name. She walked out of the club, her head held down in shame. Then she looked at her phone.

Crap, I’m going to miss the last train! She thought to herself.

She took her heels off, one in each hand, and booked it. She had four minutes. She turned the corner and she could see it. One-minute. She had just made it. She reached the platform, hopped on in and took a seat. And off she went.

Fiona hated taking the train at this time of night. You never knew who’d you’d meet. It was usually a toss-up between the chronic talkers and the doomsayers. She was pretty sick of hearing about ‘the end times’ and that’s why she usually carried a book in her purse, to hold up and keep the crazies at bay. But she didn’t have one with her that night, so she knew she was in for it.

She put her heels back on, clutched her purse in her lap and mentally prepared herself for the ride. Twenty-six minutes and she’d be home.

I just have to make it twenty-six minutes…

Not two minutes into the ride, and sure enough, the man across from her started up a conversation. He wore a perfectly tailored suit, a crisp white shirt and a bowtie. He had an expensive looking briefcase next to him, and he was wearing a pair of horn-rimmed glasses.

“Difficult night?”

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Fiona attempted to play dumb.

“You look like you’ve had a difficult night.”

Geez thanks buddy, women love to be told they look like crap!

“Yeah…you know what? I have had a difficult night. So, I’m sorry, but I’m really not in the mood…”

“Being fired is never fun.”

How did he know that?

“How did…”

But again he interrupted. “And it’s not the first time. It can’t feel good. Bartending for a living, you must know you are worth more than that.”

“Well, It wasn’t supposed to work out this way…” The words just spilled out. Fiona had no idea why she was even talking to this guy.

“Of course not. You were going to make it big. You were going to be famous.”

“Well not famous, but it would have been nice to make a living playing my own music. Open-Mic nights are good for exposure, but they don’t exactly pay…”

“But you gave up. You haven’t been to an Open-Mic night in over a year.”

“I guess I did, it just gets so discouraging…” Fiona admitted.

“You are very talented. I have been watching you for a while.”

He’s been what?! Alarm bells were going off in her head. But inexplicably she kept talking.

“Um…thanks, have we met before or something…”

“No, no…” he chuckled. “Nothing like that. I have just been watching you. You deserve better.”

“Okay…”

“What if I told you that I could make all of your dreams come true? Would you like that?” The man gently placed his hand on his briefcase.

“Look, buddy…I’m not sure who you are, or what this is about. But I’m tired, it’s been a long night, and I don’t really have it in me for this right now. I have to wake up early and try to find a new job tomorrow and…”

“With one wish and one small sacrifice, everything you have ever wanted will come to fruition.”

“Okay, okay…look I’m serious…” Fiona was starting to get really irritated by this whack job.

“All of your dreams will come true. You just have to give up one little thing.”

“And what exactly would that be? Huh?” She’d just about had it.

“Just a small token…a token of gratitude.”

“And I can have anything I want, huh? All that my heart desires with just one wish?”

Who is this guy???

“Precisely. With just one wish.”

“And what do I have to give up?” Fiona didn’t know what was happening, but all of a sudden she was starting to believe him.

“A small thing really. So small it can fit in my briefcase here. You will never miss it.”

Fiona thought about it for a moment. So many conflicting thoughts were running through her head. This guy was probably off his rocker. But what if he wasn’t? There was something about his voice, something alluring. She trusted him in a way. And what was the harm in going along with him? At the very least she’d end up with an entertaining story for her friends.

“Okay. I’ll do it. How does this wish thing work?”

“Very good, I am so pleased.” He picked up his briefcase and placed it in his lap. He clicked it open, pulled out a roll of parchment and a quill, and closed it back up. “All you have to do is sign here.” He handed her the items and sat, hands in his lap waiting patiently.

“But it’s blank…” Fiona kept turning the paper over in her hand.

“Just sign and all your dreams become reality.”

Fiona thought this must be a party trick of some sort. But she quickly signed the paper and handed it back to him. Her stop was coming up soon, and she wanted to see how this thing played out.

“Have you chosen your wish? Choose wisely, you only get one chance.”

“Yes. It’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted.”

“Well then, good evening.” The man carefully placed the parchment and quill back in its place and pulled the rope. The train stopped and he took his leave.

“Wait! What happens now?” Fiona stood up and looked out the window. She considered running after him, but she couldn’t see him anywhere. It was as though he just disappeared into the night. She sat back down in a huff.

Well it was a nice thought anyway…

One year later, the Marquis at Madison Square Garden read ‘Fiona Starbright In Concert-SOLD OUT!’

Fiona sat in her own private room getting ready. She looked fantastic, and she knew it. She’d just gotten back from her six-month European tour and she was exhausted. But this is what she did now. She performed for her fans. And they worshipped the ground she walked on.

She’d gotten everything she’d ever wanted. A beautiful penthouse, her own private chef, a butler named George, a dutiful manager, the clothes, the shoes, the car, more money than she could ever spend, the stardom, the limelight…everything.

But she couldn’t feel a thing. Not one single emotion.

Thank you for reading my story. I’d love to hear your opinions.

Get an email when I publish a new story. (She, Her) A proud member of the LGBTQ+ family. I am a writer and a freelance editor. I edit all genres, and I specialize in Romance. I write a little bit of everything, whatever is on my mind at the moment. My writing is greatly influenced by my past trauma, and I enjoy speaking openly and freely about my mental health diagnoses. You can check out some more of my writing and follow me here.

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