I stared at the storefront in annoyance. Vaarg had sent a schedule change this morning via toad, informing me I was to work night shift.

  So why was the store closed.

  “Vaarg, if this is your idea of a joke,” I muttered as I walked up to the door. It was locked, of course.

  “Hey buddy, mind letting me in?” I sighed, wiping my dust rag across the grime coated window.

  I couldn’t tell if it helped or made it worse, but the store seemed to like it as the solitary light above the door pulsed happily while the door unlatched to let me in.

  “Thanks,” I smiled, patting the doorjamb on my way inside.

  The door clicked quietly behind me.

  Before me, Silence.

  And Darkness.

  ____

  “SUPPLLLLLIEEEEES!!!” Stupid shrieked as I was simultaneously flash banged by more lights appearing in the store than I had ever seen before.

  I think she even included some of her cannonball magic, as I proceeded to stumble, desperately trying to keep my footing, my hair a swept back mess.

  “It’s ‘Surprise’, Stupid,” It coughed beside her.

  “Oh! SURPRIIIIIIISEEEEEE!!!!” Stupid fog-horned again, the resulting blast knocking me back into the door.

  Then, everyone else started cheering. The store was decorated horribly with streamers and a huge sign written in Stupid Pink-Crayon that read:

  “HappEE OnE YEAR BEEG!”

  I choked down a sob. Everyone was there. Matilda and the night crew. The entire AP team. Ugly took a moment to scoff at me, before wandering off, and Vaarg was contentedly sipping his goo.

  Even the cloaks made an appearance. Even if said appearance was to barricade Aisle 2 so I couldn’t accidentally wander in and start cleaning.

  As if. If I was going to clean Aisle 2, I was going to do it deliberately.

  And everyone was cheering. And clapping.

  For me.

  “You survived a year, well done,” Vaarg nodded. I did a double take when I saw Grif next to him, happily waving.

  Matilda promptly bustled up to me and shoved a piece of cake into my hands.

  Just the cake, no plate.

  She was gone before I could say anything.

  Music started playing from somewhere, and I watched as the absolute pandemonium that was supposed to be a party unfolded around me.

  “Stupid, what is going on?!” I shouted over the din, then flinched as the front doors expanded to open the storefront for customers.

  “We are celebrating an Anniversary!” Vaarg bellowed to the customers outside. “We are still open! Join the fun! NO — “

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  He chucked his clipboard at a vampire.

  “NOTHING IS ON SALE.”

  I couldn’t blame him. I mean really. The audacity of the question.

  Vaarg settled back into enjoying his goo, watching the party like a magistrate presiding over his people.

  “You eez the first not-goblin ever to survivez a year, Beeg!” Stupid beamed proudly. “Most goblins die, too!” She giggled.

  “Oh,” I managed to strangle out.

  “Uhm,” Stupid continued, fidgeting for a moment. “This is for you!” She exclaimed, shoving a broken doorknob into my hands before scampering off.

  “What?” I raised an eyebrow in confusion.

  “It’s for the front door,” It deadpanned, taking her place.

  “She noticed you pat the doorjamb a lot, so she thought you didn’t know where the doorknob was.”

  My chuckle turned into an all-out laugh that blended in with the rest of the mayhem.

  Even It joined in with a mildly horrifying sound. I didn’t know one could laugh in monotone.

  “Listen, so,” he said, adjusting his already perfect jacket.

  “It’s been… really nice. Working with you,” he deadpanned, holding up a package I knew even without opening was the book he had commandeered from the Library. “And uh… you do, ya know… fit in well,” he finished, shambling off.

  I watched him go, unsure if that was a good thing.

  The rest of the night proceeded as one might expect. Chaotic, terrifying, with at least one instance of the store eating a thief. Which was as satisfying as ever.

  All in all, it was really wonderful.

  Vaarg even made his way to me, offering congratulations and informing me I had earned a raise.

  Which ended up meaning he was going to pay for my dusting rags from now on.

  Miser.

  I don’t know what it said about me that I was touched by the gesture.

  At some point in the wee hours of the morning, the cloaks peeked out from their Aisle, proceeding to float towards me together.

  “Magus Warlock,” they both intoned, giving a slight bow. Or what I approximated to be a bow, as they were nothing but floating fabric.

  “Just… Beeg is fine,” I choked, spitting out my drink.

  “Right. Beeg.” They floated there a moment.

  I stared at them. I wasn’t sure if they stared back. Could cloaks even stare? I’d have to ask —

  “Thank you for not cleaning our Aisle,” one of them hurriedly said, before both turned and rapidly disappeared again.

  I watched in shock. That was probably the closest I would ever get to a “Happy Anniversary”. I heard Grif guffaw behind me and knew he had witnessed the exchange.

  ___

  I made my way home in the early hours of the morning, having left my gifts behind for safe keeping.

  I grinned like an idiot.

  A whole year. Somehow both shorter and longer than it felt.

  Like I had always been here. Like the shadows of my past were so distant, they never happened.

  And they had thrown a party. Vaarg. Stupid. It.

  Thrown it for me.

  For the escaped slave who couldn’t even find a job.

  Heck, even Vaarg himself had taken the night to be there.

  Never had I seen him take time from his schedule for anything other than money.

  Well… he did still open the store.

  … And probably wrote the night off as a business expense.

  I paused mid stride.

  It’s the thought that counts.

  I nodded and continued on my way, content in my gaslight.

  My head was a mess, my chest conflicted.

  So many emotions. Too many.

  I had no idea what to do with them.

  But… I did know I was happy.

  Me. Happy.

  Just the thought caused me to smile wider.

  And an ache to appear in my chest I knew not how to approach.

  “Well, Hello, Beeg,” a voice as smooth as oil whispered behind me.

  A voice I immediately recognized.

  I couldn’t spin fast enough to avoid the club that met my head.