Hex Factor - Andie M. Long

Noah

“It’s so cold out here, my balls are disappearing.” My friend and fellow band member Zak announced to all of us and half of the people in the queue surrounding us. We were waiting in turn for our audition for Britain’s Best New Band, a reality show that could take unknowns and send them stratospheric.

Being a top rock band was our dream and had been for years.

“Are you not cold?” Zak leaped from foot to foot rubbing his hands.

“Idiot, I’m always fucking cold, I’m a vampire.” I eye-rolled him. He was off his game today and I could hazard a guess why. The guy was knackered from his extra-curricular activities.

“Well, you must be cold, because you’re not able to put your furry coat on.” Zak pushed at Rex.

Rex didn't move, despite the shove. “Even when I can’t have my fur on the outside, it warms me on the inside. PS, if you push me again, I’m going to knock you the fuck out.” Ever the alpha wolf, Rex growled at Zak. “There are loads of women here, go warm yourself up by screwing a few of them. Get some extra credit.”

Zak's shoulders slumped. “I’ll not stay awake for the audition if I do that. I need to have a word with Abaddon, seriously. My quota is too large. I could hack it when I was eighteen, but I can’t now.”

Roman, our lead guitarist, took a swig from the bottle of scotch he seemed to have permanently attached to his hand. “I feel lovely and warm.”

“Fuck off, Satyr. That’s because your bloods almost 100% proof.”

“Can you keep it down, Zak?” I narrowed my gaze at him. “I don’t think we should be broadcasting our paranormal status to the two thousand humans we’re sharing the queue with.”

“Excuse me?” A slim blonde tapped Zak on the arm. She was wearing a fluffy blanket around her shoulders. “You can share my blanket if you like?"

Zak ran a hand through his hair.

“Oh look, he's responding to the female. The penis flytrap is about to ensnare another victim.” Rex scoffed.

Roman almost choked on his mouthful of whisky. “Penis flytrap. That’s fucking fabulous.”

Zak gave us all a withering glare, then turned back to the blonde. “Thanks, doll. I’d like to take you up on your invitation to share your blanket another day, if I may? Perhaps you could give me your phone number?” Then he yawned. It didn't put the blonde off though. She gave him a beaming smile and her contact details.

Five-and-a-half hours later, we were through the doors and waiting inside to see a producer. An older guy walked up to us.

“Okay, The Para-not-normals?”

“That’s us.” I confirmed.

“Great, well sing away.” He looked back at his clipboard.

My mouth dropped open. “Here?”

“Yeah, here.” The guy replied, looking bored.

“Okay, let me just get us organised.”

The producer shook his head. “Nope, sing now. Yes or no from me, and then we're done.” His fingers tapped his clipboard in impatience.

Shit, we'd better hurry up.

“After three, guys.” I ordered the others.

We sang one line of Ed Sheeran’s Shape of You, before the guy yelled. “Okay, that’s a yes. Here’s your ticket. Go through that door for the next stage of the competition.”

“Will I get to meet Carmela?” Zak now looked much more alert considering he might be about to share the same oxygen as the former girl band member Carmela Toto who was on the judging panel this year.

“You’re joking, mate. She doesn’t turn up until we start filming. It’s another producer again. One higher up the food chain though.” The guy walked off.

“We got through to the next round.” I raised my hand up to the others, but every one of them left me hanging while looking at me like I was a wally. “I’m hurt.” I told them. Things like this reminded me of my teenage years at school; times I did my best to forget.

“I’m still defrosting.” Zak replied. “Oooh, they’re selling coffee over there, thank fuck. Back in a sec and then we can go through and wait for another billion years, although at least this time we’ll be in the warm.”

When we eventually got into the other room, we had another two hour wait. Now I was starting to feel pangs in my stomach that let me know it was time to feed. As soon as these rounds were done, I’d need to find a willing participant for a blood donation. I didn’t usually have a problem. Given I was tall, dark, and fangsome, usually I had