By Invitation Only

Lying across the bed, soft cotton sheets snuggled against her body as she slowly came to consciousness. A cold nose burrowed into her cheek attempting to wake her. She pulled her arm over her face to block the furry advances of a cat nudging her for food. Rolling over, she dismissed the animal until she heard the cat's throaty meow. Drowsily, she played with the idea the cat sounded just like her little fuzzball, Cotton. With her face still buried in the pillow, she lazily drew up her hand to pet the animal's head. Feeling the jagged edge of his left ear, she recognized the missing tip as Cotton's old alley cat battle wound.

Immediately, her eyes flew open to see dirty clothes piled on top of her oak dresser. Her body sprung straight up in the bed. Searching her memory, she was confused by the sight of her own room. She had gone to a club. She had been with a masked man. They had had sex on the roof. Then, she woke up here? She didn't remember driving home, but her keys sat on her nightstand beside a pile of books. Rising, she looked about the room for her peacock costume. She kicked around piles of laundry desperately trying to find the evidence the night really happened. Flipping up the stripped Laura Ashley bed skirt, she scanned under her bed finding only cat toys, a plastic storage container of old clothes, and more books scattered across the hardwood. In an attempt to control her growing disillusionment, she repeated aloud, "It was not a dream. It was not a dream."

Finally, she looked in the least likely place, her closet. While she loved clothes, organizing and hanging them had never been her strong suit. She pushed back the folding wooden door to see her peacock attire hanging undisturbed. She leaped back like she expected the costume to bite her. It was impossible that it was hanging up still covered in plastic. She rubbed the aching muscles of her arms as she collapsed back on the bed feeling a burn in her thighs. Why was she so sore?

She attempted to recall when she had fallen asleep. Like most Saturday nights since Allen moved out, she had been sitting on the couch flipping channels. Concentrating, she remembered Cotton had started squalling back in her room at some cat down in the alley. She had walked back to her room to open the window to free the small apartment of his annoying cry. Cotton had slipped out the window quickly. Then, she decided her room was a disaster and decided to try to clean a little. Sniffing for freshness and then folding clothes deemed clean, she tucked them into empty drawers. Running out of space, she decided to break the seal on a drawer deserted by her former boyfriend. It was a milestone night finally taking back the use of that area in her room. When it had refused to give with a gentle pull, she jerked the drawer open. Inside, she noticed a card at been jarred loose and floated to the center.

It had been a card for a place called, Incognitos. Allen had an active nightlife and had known all the private clubs. She stretched to the side feeling the tension releasing with the pull. His accusations of her being boring had haunted her for months. She had not been enough for him. The impulse to prove him wrong had sent her on an adventure, hadn't it? No dream could have made her that sore. Was it possible for someone to bring her home, redress her and leave without waking her? How did he know where she lived? The image of a dwarf in a top hat brought doubt. She glanced up to notice the window. Cotton had gotten back in, but the window was closed. Pulling herself from the rumpled sheets, she hobbled to the bathroom to relieve her most pressing need. Walking in the room, she stared at her collection of fashion magazines on the white tile floor. They were pushed up against the wall. Usually, she left them halfway between the toilet and the bathtub making it easier to reach regardless of what she was doing. Someone had moved them. Craning her head the right, she caught the first splash of color on the mirror. She stumbled back tripping over herself. There, written across the mirror in large Almay mauve letters: You were beautiful in the moonlight, Melody.

Beginning with her toes and ending with her grin, Melody felt a smile spread throughout her. In the mirror, the image of her faded away as her mind focused on the words. Only the letters streaked across the glass, sparking her sinful delight and curiosity. The night had not been a dream. It had been real. He was been real, but how did he know her name?