“You’ve got fan mail, Bash.”

Joe dropped a black envelope onto the kitchen counter as he dumped his rucksack, shrugged away his raincoat and kicked off his Converse.

Sebastian, currently stirring red wine and mince meat through a rich red sauce, tilted his head to the left as his housemate returned home from a busy day of filming the latest season of Heartstopper.

“Do the honours for me, Joe, I’m balls deep in bolognese over here,” Sebastian’s wiped his hands over his t-shirt, “And pour me a wine, I’ve been slaving away all evening …” Sebastian kept his back to Joe, smirking as he bossed his housemate about, blowing some heavy chunks of hair away from his eyes as he twisted some salt and pepper over the bubbling perfection simmering in the pan, “ … You have a good day?”

Joe huffed, ducking under cotton cobwebs inexpertly taped to the kitchen ceiling as he picked up the black envelope with one hand and opened up a refrigerator door covered in glow in the dark skeleton magnets with the other.

“It’s addressed specifically to you,” Joe pulled out a bottle of wine, placing it beside a boiling pot of pasta, “Whoever sent it made the effort, it looks special, I’d feel weird opening it up,” Joe placed Sebastian’s post beside a two day old empty pizza take out box as he yanked the cork out of the bottle and retrieved two glasses from the cupboard, “I wish I got fan mail, I just get thirsty DM’s asking for pictures of my f—”

—Sebastian cocked an eyebrow, taking his attention away from cooking momentarily as he picked up the black envelope and spun it around so that the front was facing him, “Oh, very posh …” he brushed his thumbs over the premium quality of the envelope, the handwritten ‘Mr. Sebastian Croft’ inscribed in gold ink, the thick wax stamp that sealed the envelope at the back, “… Our address isn’t even on here, how did they—”

“—Stalker,” Joe grinned, pouring wine into each glass before handing one to Sebastian, “Be careful, it could be filled with anthrax, or worse, bed bugs,” he took a sip from his own glass, tucked his right hand under his left armpit and leaned against the refrigerator, closing it at the same time with his weight, “It’s a pretty snazzy design. Is that a devil on the stamp?”

Sebastian held the back of the envelope closer to his face, his eyes narrowing at the details of the wax splodge sealing the envelope.

“Hmm … Big ears … Long face … Horny … It looks like … You …” Sebastian giggled mischievously as Joe’s jaw dropped, where he then made an attempt to kick out at Sebastian, his foot missing Sebastian’s leg spectacularly, thanks to Sebastian’s speedy dodge to the left.

“Twat,” Joe spat, blushing, taking another sip of his wine.

Under fairy lights and within the dimly lit, decorated for Halloween London apartment, Sebastian picked up a sharp knife he had just used to dice onions and almost too expertly sliced it through the envelope, where he opened it up and pulled out a folded up invitation.

Sebastian cleared his throat.

“ … Dear Sebastian … “ he read in an overly posh English accent, “ … This Hallows Eve you are formally invited to a hellish celebrity fundraiser event hosted by The House of Horned Devils …” Sebastian chuckled, his twinkling browny green eyes glancing up at Joe, “ … Kinky …” he then dropped his voice into a serious tone as he continued to read out the invite, “ … Sponsored by ‘Appian Ways Productions’ … Champagne reception from seven, dress code ‘masked devil’, yadda yadda, mingling, attention to detail on fancy dress and an open minded attitude appreciated, plus one welcome …” Sebastian folded the invite up and shoved it back inside the envelope, “… You know that’s you, right? We’re gonna cancel our party and go rub shoulders instead,” Sebastian decided, spinning on his socked heels as he returned to stirring the bolognese sauce.

Once again, Joe’s jaw dropped.

“Bash! Seriously? We’ve got half the cast coming, I, I already pre bought loads of booze, I was going to make my skeleton cookies! The, the flat’s basically decorated, we, I, we, I,—” he placed his glass of wine down over the counter and took a desperate step towards Sebastian, “—That, that guy I matched with, he, he said he wouldn’t miss it for the wor—”

Sebastian picked up his glass and turned to face Joe.

“—Joe, it’s sponsored by Appian Way …” he placed his hand over Joe’s left shoulder, “ … That’s Leonardo Fucking DiCaprio’s production company … There is going to be a lot of important people there, so many contacts to impress, there’s a reason I’ve been invited! I’d be stupid to decline!” Sebastian sighed, taking a sip of his wine, placing the glass down by the pan as he lowered his head, “Look, Joe, I, I don’t have Heartstopper anymore. I didn’t spend all week on set. My play finishes it’s run next week and, if I’m honest, I, I …”

“… You’re not as famous as me?” Joe couldn’t help but allow a smug smile to lift his lips upward as he looked down at Sebastian’s mouth, “That’s what you’re trying to say, isn’t it? Come on, admit it, I know it’s hard …” his voice was filled with sarcasm.

Sebastian kept his head lowered as he chuckled into his chest.

“I … Don’t have as much work lined up as you, right now, that’s what I’m trying to say,” Sebastian corrected, his hand sliding away from Joe’s shoulder, “It would really mean a lot if you’d come with me. We did a Halloween party last year … We can do one next year, and the year after that, and the year after that, I, I promise, I—”

Joe zipped his own mouth, “Shh—” he pointed at Sebastian with a stern index finger, requesting silence.

Sebastian pressed his lips shut.

Only the trailer for the new Timothée Chalamet movie playing on the TV in the living room could be heard in the background as Sebastian kept his head facing his feet.

Joe’s hands dangled at his sides as he sighed heavily.

“Ugh! I’m only saying yes because I think you’ll be murdered if I’m not there to protect you …” Joe moved past Sebastian where he picked up the wooden spoon and stirred the sauce, “… You’re paying for the Uber there and the Uber back, and you can be responsible for sorting the masks, and you’re doing the washing up tonight and tomorrow night, and—”

“—Okay, okay, okay!” Sebastian leaned into Joe and smacked a friendly kiss over his cheek, taking the wooden spoon away from him, nudging him out of the kitchen with his hip, “It’s a deal. I’ll pay for taxi’s, I’ll buy the devil masks, and, if I get an acting role after charming up Leo, I’ll take you to the Oscars when I’m nominated, how about that?”

Joe took a sip of his wine as he picked up the black envelope and assessed the invite inside, the final line stating ‘no need to RSVP’, to ‘expect the unexpected …’

“Do you think he’ll be there? I, I wonder what he’s like, in real life? Do you think he’ll be as cool as he makes out?”

Sebastian lifted his shoulders, shrugging gently as he switched off the flame currently licking the underneath of the pan …

“… I guess we’ll soon find out,” he said.

“Are you sure this is the right place?”

Joe adjusted the cheap red plastic devils mask that covered the entirety of his face as he stepped out of the Uber, his rubber sole crunching over gravel.

“It’s the address that was on the invite,” Sebastian closed the Uber’s passenger door, the invite held in his hands like a map, his own red devil mask strapped to the top of his head for now, “If I’d known it was in the countryside I would’ve worn more,” he shuddered, his nipples already hardening as a brisk October chill greeted his bare chest.

As the Uber drove away, Sebastian and Joe stood side by side on a stoney pathway outlined by tall trees lit a gentle blue thanks to the beaming moonlight above.

Sebastian wore a red oversized blazer, his torso uncovered from the silver chain around his neck down to his waist, his abs and navel completely on show; to finish his look, he partnered the blazer with a pair of red leather shorts, his tanned, slim, long hairy legs stretching down to boney ankles, his feet dressed in red patent loafers.

Joe wore a pink suit jacket with a diamond brooch clipped to the collar of a sheer black shirt that did not quite reveal his upper body to the same extent as Sebastian, but still teased visibility on his stomach and chest; he had painted his fingernails midnight blue and wore skinny jeans and military boots to complete his look.

“Maybe it’s through here,” Joe’s voice was a little muffled behind his mask as he took a few careful steps over muddy puddles, towards a wooden gate that lead to an open field.

“I can hear music …” Sebastian followed Joe, where they both arrived at the gate, their eyes illuminated a flickering orange as they took in the sight of a glowing barn in the middle of the field around thirty feet away, surrounded by maybe forty, fifty people all wearing devil masks, all suited in their own style of fancy dress, “… Fuck! These shoes are brand new! They’re gonna get ruined walking all that way through the grass, my, my legs are gonna get soaked … “

“I mean, you’re literally wearing nothing, Bash, you’ve only got yourself to blame,” Joe bantered, his hand yanking the gate towards him where it creaked open inward, creating a gap for Sebastian to slide through.

“Joe, you’re gonna have to carry me, seriously, piggy back or someth—”

—Sebastian’s eyes widened as a presence appearing out from the darkness of the trees silenced him momentarily.

A cloaked person wearing a black mask with tall goat horns protruding from their head positioned themselves in front of Sebastian and Joe, who could now do nothing but stand still as their way forward became suddenly blocked.

Joe pinched the hem of Sebastian’s blazer, “Bash, I, I think we should g—”

“—I am The Horned Devil,” the cloaked stranger spoke with a deep, commanding voice, “Do you submit?”

“Uuuhh,” Joe looked towards Bash, who stood grinning enthusiastically, “I, I think we need to have a little chat be, before we—”

“—We submit!” Sebastian announced excitedly, his attention drawn in to The Horned Devils overwhelming height, “Oh my god, Joe, this is so cool …” he could not take his eyes away from the quality of the persons costume, from the premium gloss of his mask to the almost glass-like texture of his horns, “… I’m so glad we did this instead of the party, this is going to be wild, I can just tell …”

The Horned Devil requested both boys follow him without even speaking; his sudden turn around and the dramatic bellow of his cloak informed Sebastian and Joe that this would be the moment, right now, where they would take his lead, no questions asked.

The Horned Devil’s booted feet crushed the stoney path beneath his footsteps until his pace became softened, transforming into a gentle rustle as his leather clad stride entered knee length blades of damp grass. his calm but urgent walk arriving into the field.

Sebastian pulled a face of grimace as his thighs and calves were greeted by cold, wet licks from the sharp foliage he waded through, his mouth hissing in distress as each blade slid across his bare legs, “Is it piggy back time yet, Joe? I’m getting wet, my legs are literally soa—”

“—You’re too heavy!” Joe snapped, his head turning over his shoulder as he watched the gate they had just walked through fade away into darkness, “Bash, I, I feel a bit sick,” he lied, “I, I shouldn’t of had that third shot before we left the flat, can we—”

“—They’re taking this so seriously, it’s fucking epic,” Sebastian hopped over an exposed root in the ground, “We’ll get a drink as soon we we’re there, you always get so bloody nervous before we do things like this …”

The Horned Devil led Sebastian and Joe to a large black van parked at the outer edge of the field.

The side doors were open, revealing several other guests The Horned Devil had gathered before Sebastian and Joe’s arrival; they were a mixture of genders and ages, all wearing their own unique devil masks, each person individually styled in their own choice of fancy dress.

“Things like this?” Joe squeaked, “This isn’t a film premiere or a fashion show, Bash! This is, this is …” Joe struggled to find the words, “It’s—”

“—Thank god we’re being driven, my feet are drenched,” Sebastian muttered, his hand pulling his mask away from the top of his head and down over his face, where he fully embraced the evenings aesthetic and whatever upcoming events it had to offer, “Hello, everyone,” he waved politely at the guests as he climbed into the van, “Happy Halloween! I’m Bash, this is my friend, Joe,” Sebastian sat down beside an older woman dressed in a red glittery outfit, her face concealed by a sparkly gold devils mask, “Oh, you look great!” Sebastian grinned, however the woman offered no form of reply.

“O, on the invite,” Joe paused before climbing in, turning to face The Horned Devil as he stood by the open door of the van, “It said, ‘we welcome open mindedness’ … Could you please provide further clarity on what that means exactly—”

“—Oh my god, Joe, you’re so embarrassing!” Sebastian grabbed Joe’s arm and pulled him into the van, “Sorry, everyone, he gets a little anxious when he steps out of his comfort zone …”

Joe fell onto his seat beside Sebastian, squeezing his eyes shut and biting his lower lip as The Horned Devil slide the van door shut.

He then turned to the other half a dozen guests seated within the van and offered them a quiet wave, however none of them waved back.

“Aw, everyone is so nice … ” Joe whispered to Sebastian, “… So reassuring …” he chuckled.

Sebastian squeezed Joe’s knee in an attempt to keep him quiet, “Shh! I thought you were feeling sick?”

Joe’s mouth stretched open as he grabbed Sebastian’s hand and clawed it away from his leg, “Agh!” His slim frame wobbling from side to side as the van’s engine rumbled into action and its large, heavy wheels began to roll its creaking structure through the field and towards the barn, “I hate it when you do that!”

Sebastian could barely contain his eagerness as the van travelled at a too steady speed, his eyes behind the mask watching the blades of grass outside the passenger window transform from navy blue to golden yellow as the warmth from the inside of the barn lit up the surrounding field with a natural light.

“This is probably the weirdest thing I’ve ever done,” Sebastian declared, “And I fucking love it.”

The van soon pulled to a stop, allowing Sebastian, Joe and the additional guests inside the vehicle to look out of the window and take in the sight before them.

The barn was the size of an average house. Through its amber tinted windows, fairy lights and the haze of cigarette smoke could be seen. A masked DJ had positioned his counter to the side of the barn where he held a set of headphones against his ear and played drum and bass music to a large crowd scattered around the outside of the barn’s wooden exterior. Most of the crowd were masked, some were not. Most had made effort to dress devilishly, some had not. All were engaged in conversation, all were drinking champagne, all were laughing, chatting, an energetic few even dancing under the moonlight.

At the barns entrance, two additional Horned Devils dressed in black cloaks worked as security guards as they allowed each guest inside, one by one.

The van doors slid open, allowing a cold chill to greet the guests inside the vehicle as The Horned Devil stepped aside, his body language urging them to climb out and join in on the fun.

Sebastian was first.

He threw himself out of the van, his loafers landing on grass dried up thanks to the heat resonating from the barn, his body spinning around where he waited for Joe to follow.

Joe hooked his heel over the edge of the doorway and glanced from side to side.

Reluctantly, he slid out of the van and stumbled towards Joe as the music grew louder, the glow from the inside of the barn glowed brighter …

Sebastian found himself muttering, “Oh my god,” for the third time this evening as he curled his right arm around Joe’s left and pulled him closer, his breath hot behind his mask, “There’s Quentin Tarantino,” Sebastian panted, “Quentin Fucking Tarantino …” he then sped him towards the barn’s entrance as Joe spun his head from side to side, in an attempt to catch a good glimpse of Quentin.

Instead, Joe caught the eye of someone else who was also unmasked.

“Fuck, that’s Andrew Garfield …” Joe felt his anxiety subside the more he saw people he recognised, “… Oh wow, you’re right,” he grinned, “This, this is pretty amazing …” he caught Michael B Jordan adjusting his mask, allowing Joe the chance to briefly see his handsome face, “… Is he, is he talking to Chris Hemswor—”

“—Oh shit, we need to give in our phones …” Sebastian dropped his shoulders as he realised the possibility of getting a selfie with Leonardo DiCaprio had been squashed sooner than he cared to admit, “… Is that, like, a rule?” Sebastian looked up at the two Horned Devils standing either side of the open doorway, one with his hands behind his back, the other holding out a plastic box filled with iPhones and Androids …

The Horned Devil holding the box didn’t nod, shake his head, or respond verbally; he simply held the bucket out to Sebastian, which was more than enough assertion to inform the twenty one year old that he would indeed have to hand over his mobile.

Both Sebastian and Joe reached inside his blazer pockets and pulled out their iPhones, switching them off before placing them carefully inside the bucket.

“First red flag …” Joe muttered under his breath as the two Horned Devils before them stepped aside, allowing them access into the barn.

As they entered, Sebastian and Joe’s mouths dropped open, their astonished eyes glancing up and around at the barns internal decor.

From the roof hung a giant fairy light display which lit the inside of the wooden building a rich, comforting yellow. The floor was made up mostly of flat, dry grass which felt crisp with every step. To the left there was a small bar area with an already thirsty crowd gathering around a single barman who currently shook a cocktail mixer. Pressed against the far right cob-web riddled wall, there was a long narrow table that had been littered with a glorious spread of food ranging from mini sandwiches with various fillings, mountains of fruit such as fresh green apples, red grapes and pears, as well as more relatable offerings like steaming hot slices of pepperoni pizza and cheese burgers wrapped in orange napkins.

Pumpkins carved to look like they were hysterically laughing had ball gags strapped around them. The pumpkins had been placed in various areas within the barn; some were grouped together in the middle of the food table, others were dotted around in the corners of the room, some were hanging from chains looped to the wooden beams that made up the ceiling.

“I told you it would be kinky,” Sebastian nudged Joe, as they quietly made their way past individual groups, where bodies naturally parted, revealing a sight that caused both Sebastian and Joe to pause all movement …

Underneath more fairy lights and surrounded by the yellow glow of mystery, a large black, gothical throne had been positioned in the middle of the barn. Attached to the seat of the throne was a black leather padded extension built for the legs, and attached to the end of the extension was a set of black wooden stocks built for ankles. Nailed to the top of the throne were steel cuffs that were currently opened and unlocked.

Red leaves, mahogany coloured coils and theatrical bush work sprouted out from the beneath of the throne, giving the gathering audience the impression that the throne itself had been birthed by the barn and uprooted from the dry expanse of grass that made up the barns flooring.

Two feet away from the throne was a waist high tree stump and placed carefully over the surface of the stump was an aged and dusty looking book, its edges frayed and worn. Laid out neatly over the cover of the book was an orange feather, its pen-quill sharp and pointing directly at both Sebastian and Joe.

“I think kinky is an understatement,” Joe mumbled, his entire expression overwhelmed with awe.

Sebastian necked a shot of tequila all at once, slamming the glass down over the bar, wiping his mouth immediately after, the burn of alcohol calming him down after his eyes had spent far too long taking in the details of the throne, the leaves, the feather and the book.

“Have you ever seen Midsommar …?” Sebastian asked Joe, who currently nursed his shot under his lower lip, “We’re in that movie. We are seriously, one hundred percent in that movie and I am so beyond hyped it’s unreal …”

Most of the outside guests had started to make their way inside the barn, the DJ now packing up his equipment, allowing the sound of individual group conversation to fill the void of silence.

“I’ve noticed most of the celebrities here are actors … ” The uncomfortable dread sitting in the pit of Joe’s stomach made him sink his shot within two seconds, his nose scrunching up, his fist patting against his chest, “… Maybe theres going to be a performance …” he wheezed.

“Bar man!” Sebastian tapped the surface of the bar with the fingertips of his right hand, “Can I get a bottle of white wine, two glasses, please …”

The barman nodded and went to make the requested drinks as the barn doors creaked shut and several Horned Devils gathered in a circle around a bustling crowd of at least seventy people, most of which had decided to, for those who had one, place their devil masks over their faces, concealing their identities.

Joe’s eyes flickered around the barn as the fairy lights and candles continued to illuminate his pupils a sparkling yellow. Beneath the masks he could make out jaw lines he recognised from the many famous people underneath the barns glowing rooftop; Brad Pitt stood with a cigarette in one hand and a dog leash in the other, the collar connected to a shorter brown haired young man standing beside him who wore a white oval mask over his face with horns scribbled in red marker pen over the forehead. The young man wore a leather harness across his chest and a pair of pink briefs, his feet bare, his hands restrained behind his back. Joe couldn’t quite make out who the leashed person was, but seeing such an erotic display of fetishism made him feel equally curious and confused at the same time …

“Uhh, Bash …” Joe placed a hand over Sebastian’s shoulder, “ … The crazy is sort of uh, levelling up, over there …”

Sebastian shrugged Joe away as the barman returned with a bottle of white wine and two glasses, “It’s all part of the show, Joe, just relax and enjoy yourself …” he muttered, tapping his credit card over the payment machine provided, the barman nodding in thanks, “ … Here, get this down you, it’ll help take the edge off …”

As Sebastian poured wine into each glass, Joe locked eyes with Andrew Garfield for the second time this evening.

Andrew stood in a black velvet tuxedo, his devil mask Venetian style, meaning it only covered the top half of his face, allowing him to showcase his blinding smile, a smile he presented to Joe confidently and with such vigour that it caused Joe to blush intensely, to look away immediately and to snatch the glass of wine out of Sebastian’s hand, where he removed his mask and downed half the contents without hesitation.

“Christ, Joe, chill out, you’re all over the place,” Sebastian adjusted his mask so that it lifted a little over his nose, taking a few sips of his wine, his brain now enjoying a soft buzz of tipsiness, “I’m pretty sure I saw Henry Cavill in nothing but a harness outside the toilets. It’s a fundraiser, it’s meant to raise awareness … I’m not sure what the charity is, though … ” Sebastian looked from side to side as the crowd began to part down the middle, “ … And I uh, I can’t see any press anywhere—”

—Clap.

Clap.

Clap.

Sebastian and Joe slid their masks back over their face as the curious chatter within the barn mumbled into whispered silence.

Now that all guests had been contained within the barn, The Leader of The House of Horned Devils could made their way through the natural pathway created by the crowds split.

Both Sebastian and Joe stood on tip toes as they peered over bodies taller than they, to try to catch a glimpse of the slow moving figure dressed the same way as the many other Horned Devil’s currently either guarding the front doors, the staircase to the second floor or the back doors.

Despite this individual looking exactly like the rest of his like-wise styled horned friends, this particular devil instead gave off a far more powerful presence, a sense of authority, mastery and dominance that put the others to shame.

“It’s him,” Sebastian nodded quickly, taking another brisk sip of wine as he poked the middle of Joe’s spine, “It’s him, I know it, it, has to be,” he muttered, a masked woman dressed in a red ballgown turning to shhhh Sebastian, her index finger stern and straight against the plastic of her lips, “Oh my god, Joe, this is sick, thank you so much for coming, shit, shit, shit, he’s taking off his hood, fuck, fuck, oh my god …”

“Shhh!” The masked lady tried for a second time.

Sebastian tutted, holding his hand up in apology as Joe continued to gawp over the crowds, still standing on tip toes, his wine getting warm within his glass as he watched the leader of the group stand beside the throne, where they carefully removed their hood, allowing it to drop over their shoulders.

Tanned, strong looking hands slid out from under their cloak where they gradually travelled above their head, all ten fingers curling around each horn attached to their mask, some gentle applause already taking place within the standing audience from people who were already in the know of the identity behind this Horned Devil; Andrew started first, and then Brad followed, along with some others dotted within the crowd, until everyone within the barn started to cheer and whoop, at such a sudden eruption that Sebastian and Joe felt the need to do the same, even if the mask hadn’t fully peeled itself away from the face behind it.

“I told you! I told you! Fuck, Joe, this is so bloody cool!” Sebastian placed his wine down on the bar and held onto both of Joe’s shoulders, jumping up and down behind him with excitement as the crowds overwhelming applause filled every inch of the barn, causing Joe to react in the complete opposite way to Sebastian; he ducked his head and squinted his eyes, pinched the edges of his large round ears as he wished for the whistling, the clapping and the foot stomping to stop as quickly as it had started.

Leonardo DiCaprio held up his right hand as soon as his horned mask had been removed.

Silence filled the barn as each guest looked at Leo in awe and admiration.

“Thank you, thank you, everyone …” Leo shrugged off his cloak, now standing in a black jacket and white shirt, denim jeans and boots, a far more casual look than almost every other person standing around him, “… And Happy Hallows Eve!” He cheered, his tiny blue eyes squinting as he smiled at the audience, an audience who once again clapped and praised, giving Leo a few seconds to hand his cloak and mask to a nearby Horned Devil, who had to bow before Leo before taking the items and shuffling away.

Leo placed his palms together and began to walk around the throne as the crowd once again naturally hustled into silence, his pace around the large mound of foliage and gothical flowers that lifted the throne around a foot away from the ground crunching with every step, his face angled down to the dry grass floor, “So …” he said, pausing to face the crowd, “… Are we ready to meet her? …”

Sebastian jumped in the air at the exact start of the barns third ravenous applause, his cheers of enthusiasm for this strange, one of a kind event informing Joe that Joe had indeed lost Sebastian; the wine, the intrigue as to what would happen next and the unique aesthetic to the entire evening had swallowed Sebastian up, just like it had swallowed up the seventy eight other guests surrounding Joe, who stood clapping quietly with a forced, twitching smile twinged across his face.

As the cheers died down, Sebastian pressed his chardonnay stained lips against Joe’s neck and whispered, “Isn’t he hot? He’s so hot …”

Joe twisted his head away, Sebastian’s hot breath against the behind of his ear causing him to squirm, as he turned his attention back to Leo, who had now perched against the left arm of the throne.

“Can you believe it’s been a full year since we last spoke with her?” Leo folded his arms across his chest, “A full year! If I recall, it got pretty wild the last time we had someone locked up in this seat …” Leo nudged himself away from the throne and tucked his hands into his trouser pockets, “… Are you ready to let it get wild again?”

Sebastian jumped in the air once, twice, three times as the crowds now lifted to an even higher level of energetic excitement, some launching shots of alcohol out into the crowd, others throwing their fists into the air, some screaming so loud and so hard that Joe could make out the thickness of their veins protruding from their necks beneath masks containing their exuberant expressions.

“I have no idea what he’s talking about!” Sebastian yelled into the back of Joe’s neck, the crowds now knocking them from side to side, “I think we’re going to meet a ghost …!”

Joe adjusted the collar of his shirt as the developing events caused his throat to thicken and his stomach to become filled with butterflies.

Leo walked towards the tree stump and placed his right hand carefully down over the feather and closed book as the crowd fell back into whispers and murmured excitement.

Sebastian wrapped his arms around Joe’s waist as he rested his head over his left shoulder.

“And to think, you wanted to just play beer pong in our flat …” Sebastian smirked.

Joe closed his eyes as the thought of seeing a ghost began to make his knees feel weak; if anything, now more than ever, he wished he had just decided to spend Halloween in their own apartment, hosting their own Halloween party, with their own friends …

Leo closed his eyes also.

He breathed in quietly and then lowered his head, his palm pressing down gently against the surface of the book, the feather now squashed beneath his hands weight.

“She has chosen …” Leo confirmed, his eyes snapping open, his head nodding just once, “… She has found The Chosen One …” he lifted his hand and stepped away from the stump as the crowd gasped and remained surprisingly quiet, more stunned and shocked than excited and enthused, the reality of the situation now fiercely dawning on them second by second, “… Tell us, my darlin’, who have you chosen?” Leo began to raise his voice as he curled his fists into balls, “Tell us! Who have you chosen! …”

Sebastian chuckled into the back of his hand as he picked up his glass of wine from the bar, “… This is nuts …” he muttered, before taking another few sips, his mouth almost spitting the chardonnay out at the sight of the feather lifting away from the book, as if by magic, where it started to float in mid air, no doubt to some perfectly timed breeze, wind machine or thin, plastic wiring attached to the feathers nib …

The audience cheered calmly and respectfully as they watched the feather bob six feet away from the ground, the closed book laid out over the surface of the stump now opening by itself to blank page, without Leo or any nearby people touching it.

“What the fuck …” Joe whispered, the wine and surprise in his chest causing him to swear, his head now facing the fairy lights in the ceiling as he tried to make out any puppeteering work or string device that would enable the book and feather to move in such a way, but the more he assessed the above surroundings, the more he struggled to see any practical wizardry taking place, “You’re right,” Joe mumbled, turning his head back towards Sebastian, “This is fucking cool …”

Sebastian carefully covered his mouth, “Oh my god,” which was a pointless movement in itself considering his dropped jaw was hidden by his devils mask, “Oh my god,” but he still felt the need to respond in a way that was worthy of such a bizarre and well executed stunt taking place so close to he and Joe, “Oh my god …”

Leo’s face was lit with glee and satisfaction, his arms folding across his chest once again as he greeted the spirit that had apparently ‘arrived’ within the barn, “Hello again, darlin’,” he said, “It’s been a quite a while … Yeah, I know … A year for you is a lot longer than a year for us … How you holdin’ up?”

The feather remained bobbing within thin air for a few seconds, where it suddenly swooped down towards the open, empty pages, causing several guests within the crowd to gasp and shriek at the sight of an object moving as if held by an invisible force.

Like Joe just moments before, Sebastian now found himself stretching his neck up to the ceiling where he tried to source plastic wiring, or maybe even magnet-work within the wooden beams that made up the barns rooftop; after a few seconds of failing to find any evidence, he decided to put the ghost-like-production down to some well crafted Hollywood magic, the expensive kind that someone the likes Leonardo DiCaprio could no doubt afford.

“Alright, alright,” Leo licked his lips, “It would seem she’s pretty eager to get going, so, I’ll ask again …” Leo paused for dramatic effect, his moment of silence lasting for three seconds, four seconds, five seconds until …

“ … Who have you chosen?”

Sebastian and Joe could catch insects with their mouths, considering how long they had allowed them to hang open, as the entire barn fell deathly quiet; so, so quiet that you could hear the wax of the candle sizzle beneath the gentle crackle of flame.

The feather began to write over the left page of the open book …

Sebastian finished his wine and then picked up the bottle, clumsily pouring more into his glass as the scratching sound of sharp quill jotting down over a dry surface scribbled in the background.

The name seemed long, not short, as the scratching persisted for just under five seconds, until the feather, still moving without being touched, bobbed away from the book and floated in mid air, a few inches away from the page …

Leo cleared his throat and stepped closer to the tree stump, his sparkling blue eyes taking in the name the feather had written down.

Leo picked up the book and held it in the air, facing the name towards the audience before him.

As Sebastian continued to fill his glass with wine, spilling excess over the edge, turning to place the bottle back at the bar, Joe’s mouth finally closed up, almost too quickly, where his lips pressed together and his cheeks boiled red, his hands now shaking down at his sides …

People within the crowd shuffled around in confusion, their heads turning from left to right as they tried to locate the person within the room, the person who had the name—

“—Sebastian!” Leo called.

Sebastian paused all movement; one hand holding the bottle of wine against the surface of the bar, the other hand holding the glass, his entire concealed face fixed in a blank stare towards the floor as heavy chunks of browny blonde hair dangled over his mask.

Joe turned around and carefully placed a hand on Sebastian’s right shoulder.

“Bash … I, I … It’s …”

Slowly, Sebastian placed both the wine glass and wine bottle down at the bar and then turned to face Leo.

Leo grinned, pointing at the person moving slower than everyone else.

“Are you Sebastian?”

Everyone in the barn made an impassioned effort to look towards Sebastian, who now stood surrounded by hundreds of masked faces all directed at him, all at once.

Sebastian chuckled nervously, nodding quickly, his right hand cupping the chin of his mask so that he could push it over his face, where the oval plastic slid back his head of hair, revealing his handsome, glowing features.

“Oh … Shit,” Sebastian whispered under his breath, his teeth clenching into a nervous smile as everyone in the audience started to applaud him with reassuring cheers and enthusiastic claps, charging Sebastian with some additional confidence as he stood there saturated in praise.

Sebastian bowed and raised his hands, cheering along with the crowd, much to Joe’s surprise; if he were in Sebastian’s position, he would be making a keen bolt for the barn’s exit door …

“Welcome, Sebastian …” Leo placed the open book, page up, back down over the surface of the tree stump, “… Welcome! Come, come to me, let us begin …”

Sebastian barged past Joe, who stumbled to the side, reaching out for his friend, “Bash, wait!” before his hand dropped, Sebastian now squeezing past bundles of people applauding him until he eventually made his way to the front of the crowd, where he stood just two metres away from Leo.

"This is more than a selfie!” Sebastian declared, his wit causing some guests within the crowd to laugh and applaud his assuredness, “Oh my god, Leo, I’m, I’m such a fan … This is pretty surreal, sorry, Titanic is like, one of my favourite films of all time, okay, alright, I’m going to try to stop waffling on and, and try to stop sounding like a twat but, I, I think it’s already happened and now I don’t seem to be stopping and, and, and—”

—Leo smiled warmly at Sebastian, stepping away from the throne where he reached out a right hand.

“Nice to meet you, kid,” he winked, taking Sebastian’s hand from his side and shaking it firmly, “I like your outfit.”

Sebastian could barely blink, he could barely speak, his entire form fixed into place as awe overwhelmed him; he had come to this very event to simply exchange a few words with a Leo who might be there, and now, here he stood, chosen, ready to be thrown into a supernatural act that would no doubt require him to use every single inch of his talent to impress a Leo who was very much here, who stood in front of him, where he would improvise, where he would ‘go along with it’ in such a way that Leo would have no choice but to take his number at the end of the party and think of him and only him the next time Martin Scorcese or Robert DeNiro wanted to hire a good looking, blonde twenty one year old for a film that would, of course, be nominated for dozens of Oscars …

As Sebastian devoured the warmth that was Leo’s soft palm vigorously consuming his hand in a handshake that shook so hard Sebastian’s arm wobbled like a rag dolls, Sebastian could see his future taking place second by second, he could make sense of the opportunities that would come his way; the auditions, the contracts, the natural career development impressing someone as important as this would entail. He would have to show commitment to the role, not question how the feather could or could not float. He would have to become ‘The Chosen One’, even if he did not know what that meant, even if he did not believe it himself; he would decide to understand it, decide to believe it, he would prove to Leo that he was worthy of more than just the person who asked how the day on set was, more than a replacement actor in a play, more than ‘the bad guy from Heartstopper’, more than Joe’s cook every evening, more than bolognese and chopping mushrooms and getting sauce on a t-shirt he could not afford to replace.

“Strip,” Leo ordered.

Sebastian’s fierce smile slowly faded as Leo’s hand slid away from his own.

Joe glanced anxiously from side to side behind the oval plastic strapped over his face, his small height lost within a sea of masks.

Sebastian gulped.

“Really?”

He regretted asking that question as soon as it left his mouth.

That one word symbolised his doubt, it contradicted every strong willed thought he had just let flow through his mind, it jeopardised all of the future possibilities he had just stood here so excited about; it made him look like he questioned Leo’s artistry and the huge efforts made behind bringing such an elaborate, exclusive and entertaining event like this together.

From that moment on, Sebastian promised to himself to only say yes, to not ask questions, as long as he stood on this ‘stage’, surrounded by this masked audience, face to face with this iconic celebrity that had ‘chosen’ him to be a vital part of this insane, one of a kind production.

“Strip,” Leo did not look to impressed with the fact that he had to repeat himself, “Down to your underwear …” much to Sebastian’s relief, Leo presented a sudden crooked smile as he turned towards the audience, “… That is, if you’re wearing any …” the audience cheered and laughed, “… An outfit like that would suggest you might not be!”

Sebastian placed his hands on his hips and turned towards the clapping crowd, his eyes falling on the only person not celebrating his newly chosen status; Joe, who stood quiet and still, his masked face aimed directly at Sebastian.

Sebastian had to pull his attention away from Joe, where he threw himself head first into his role, shrugging off the only thing cover his upper body - his red oversized blazer.

“… Alright, alright …” he spoke in a tone that suggested he had been forced into removing his clothing, “ … If you all want it that bad, I’ll do it,” he tutted, rolling his eyes dramatically as a playful grin decorated his face, the blazer popping away from his shoulders where it then slid down his arms, revealing a toned, slim, glistening back, smooth sides and a long spine that nestled into the hem of his leather shorts, his entire torso now lit a vibrant gold thanks to the many fairy lights and flickering candles in the room.

Some of the guests in the audience, men and women, swooned at the sight of such an attractive upper body; Sebastian could feel their eyes on him, his grin remaining as he swung his blazer in the air and threw it out into the crowd.

Leo smirked as he watched Sebastian revel in the limelight, several eager arms and clawing hands reaching out within the audience to grab Sebastian’s blazer; such a cocky and self assured act reminded Leo of himself over twenty five years ago, a Leo who was new to the world of fame, a Leo who was young, vibrant, fuelled by the restless and brutal need to succeed, a Leo who, back in 1997, might of sat restrained to this very throne himself.

Sebastian turned to Leo and hooked his thumbs over the hem of his leather shorts, his chardonnay buzz causing him to actually glance at Leo flirtatiously, where he ran his tongue over the roof of his mouth and began to pull down the shorts, where they slid past an impressive bulge hidden by black briefs and dropped down by his ankles, allowing him to step out of them and place his hands back over his hips, where he now stood in front of Leo in just his underwear and expensive loafers.

Leo smirked, smoothing the stubble over his jaw as the feather continued to float above the open pages of the book, a book, for now, simply containing the name ‘Sebastian’.

Leo assessed ‘The Chosen One’ standing in reaching distance before him, he took in his thick head of hair, his dark eyelashes and bushy eyebrows, his sharp nose and angular jaw, the thickness of his neck, the drop of his broad shoulders, the slim shape of his arms and narrow waist; he looked skinny but muscular, small but tall, tanned but pale, an almost perfect mixture of handsome meets ordinary, a special delicacy of boy turned man, a mesmerising example of what God could create when given the right brush stroke that would make up the perfect jawline, the most acute cheekbones, the softest of lips and the greenest of eyes that Leo could have sworn were brown only seconds ago …

“You’ve got some hairy legs, kid …” Leo nodded at Sebastian, from the waist down.

Sebastian sniggered, glancing at his legs, holding his hands up in surrender, “Yes, yes,” he admitted, “They uh, they are rather hairy …” the audience chuckled along with him as they peered over shoulders to catch a glimpse of the thousands of thick dark brown, individual miniature curls of hair that decorated the entirety of Sebastian’s legs from the tops of his thighs all the way down to his ankles, “It’s always been a bit of thing,” he said, almost too well mannered, his British-ness coming through strong as he began to slip out of his loafers, “I had to shave them once, for a role, and that made it worse, actually—”

“—No,” Leo held out his hand, “Keep your shoes on, for now …” he requested, “… And climb on in …” he stepped side, offering a polite open arm to Sebastian, as if granting him access to a golden carriage or a fancy limousine, a natural pathway now leading towards the giant throne surrounded by majestic grey flowers and twinkling fairy lights.

Sebastian swallowed down the rest of his nervous leg-hair-babble and unclipped the silver chain from around his neck, placing this gently down over his shorts.

He then slid his feet back into his loafers and took a confident step forward.

Joe stood excited but confused, entertained but nervous, worried but at ease, uncertain but faithful, his entire posture stiff and ready, his mind constantly reassuring himself that Bash will be okay, it’s just an act, what’s the worse that could happen, I hope he gets something out of this, I’m sure he will, he needs to act his nuts off, he can do it, he can do it, he can do it …

Sebastian took one large stride over the mound of flowers, roses, vines and leaves, planting his right foot over the base of the throne, his arms reaching out to its thick side where he pulled himself onto the structure of the seat with a determined grunt, successfully sitting himself down with a satisfied smile.

A Horned Devil to the right quietly made his way towards the top of the throne whilst a Horned Devil to the left made his way towards the stocks; Sebastian’s eyes shifted from side to side as he watched the cloaked guards practically hover across the floor, their giant black capes hiding their steps, their tall, horned appearance just as magnificent, just as well pulled together, just as believable as the entire set up in itself.

As one Horned Devil carefully took hold of Sebastians wrists, Leo perched to the left of the throne and offered Sebastian a reassuring smile as the feather continued to bob in mid air above the book.

“Have you ever been restrained before?” Leo asked.

Sebastian’s eyes glowed orange as he shook his head, unable to take his gaze away from Leo’s lips.

“Are you alright, being restrained tonight?” Leo narrowed his eyes, a genuine sense of care within his tone.

Sebastian, despite feeling somewhat comforted by Leo’s request of consent, wondered why he needed to be tied to this throne in general, but, like he promised himself moments ago, he held back from asking questions and said, “Yes,” firmly, almost sternly, the key to ad lib performances and a successful round of improvisation always being, as he was taught in acting school, to never say ‘no’ …

Leo stepped away as The Horned Devil lifted Sebastians arms above his head.

Impressed mutters and murmurs within the audience began to whisper and flutter amongst the crowd as Sebastian’s armpits were not just revealed, but entirely exposed; his chest broadened as his hands were fixed above him, his small biceps bulging slightly, the exceptionally deep cavern of each underarm presenting dark wisps and tufts of armpit hair that glistened in the candlelight …

Just when Sebastian thought his arms couldn’t reach much higher, The Horned Devil pulled them up just a few inches more, to the point where Sebastian had to bite his upper lip in focus as he felt his stomach stretch.

Joe stood with his index finger and thumb under his mask, where he pinched his chin repeatedly, something he often did when overly excited, nervous or anxious, something he always forced himself not to do before an audition or high profile interview, something he happily allowed himself to do during this tense and bizarrely odd moment as he watched his best friend be restrained to this theatrical, ostentatious set piece.

Sebastian glanced up to the top of the throne as The Horned Devil placed his wrists over a slab of steel, two large medieval looking cuffs closing down over each wrist, clamping them in place, pinning his arms above his head for the foreseeable future.

The Horned Devil flicked a latch at the side of the cuffs, locking them securely, as he stepped away and joined the second Horned Devil in positioning Sebastian’s legs and feet.

Sebastian flexed all ten fingers as he tugged at the restraints; almost immediately he realised his arms were to be held above him until Leo called cut, until Leo explained the meaning behind this melodramatic performance, until Leo revealed the logistics behind the floating feather …

“There are people here who came to last years event, and the one before that … There might even be some people here who came to the event ten years ago, twenty … Maybe thirty … “, Leo walked around the throne as The Horned Devils lifted the top half of the stocks, “… They’d know that there’s only one real way to communicate with her, a method that may seem strange to some, but for the likes of us, is pretty standard practise …”

Sebastian allowed each Horned Devil to take his ankles, lift them up and gently plant them down over the groves of the stocks; he shuffled forwards as his legs rested over the red padded extension, the stocks closing steadily, each semi circle grove suddenly becoming a full circle that contained each of Sebastian’s ankles securely.

The Horned Devil to the left flicked the stocks latch, officially locking the stocks, bowing his head, stepping away with the secondary Horned Devil.

Sebastian now sat fully restrained within the throne, facing the masked audience before him, his body slightly warm thanks to the many candles surrounding him, his skin lit a vibrant gold due to the yellow hazy hue that filled the expanse of the barn.

“We don’t use an ouija board,” Leo explained, his right hand resting on the leather loafer that sat snug on Sebastian’s left foot, “We don’t bring out a priest, or a clergy …” Leo lifted his hand and then allowed it to hover over Sebastians long, hairy left leg, “… It’s not as complicated or fantastical, silly or horrific as any of that … All we have to do, is produce laughter …”

The audience were now so silent, so still, so engaged that you could hear a pin drop within the barn.

Sebastian’s flexed out fingers curled into a tight clench as he tried to make sense of Leo’s words, his head angled to face him, his eyes watching Leo’s mouth as Leo continued to speak, his face crisp in focus, his frame outlined by amber, the background behind him a sea of masks, fairy lights, cigarette smoke and horned henchmen …

“… The louder the laughter,” Leo whispered, his right hand now gently brushing some stray chunks of hair away from Sebastian’s face, “… The stronger she’ll communicate …” he looked Sebastian directly in the eye, “… Kid … Can I ask you something?”

Sebastian became hypnotised by Leo’s soothing tone, his handsome face, his soft touch, the fact that it was Leonardo Fucking DiCaprio talking to him, whilst he sat, restrained to this throne, half naked, a tiny bit drunk, in front of seventy complete and utter strangers …

Amidst the overwhelming bewilderment, Sebastian blinked a few times before nodding slowly.

Leo smiled.

He stepped closer, leant on the arm of the throne and narrowed his eyes into Sebastian’s neck.

“… Are you ticklish, Sebastian?”

Sebastian’s teeth clenched into a tight grin as he naturally stiffened his posture, after hearing Leo’s question whilst restrained in such an unprotected and vulnerable way.

Had had, without meaning to, not only allowed himself to be put on display, but to also exhibit the entirety of his phenomenally ticklish body to Leo, who he thought would have absolutely anything else on his mind but tickling …

As he came to terms with the reality of his circumstance, two other thoughts landed at the forefront of Sebastians mind; one was, ‘he has to be joking’ and the other was ‘he has to be joking …’

As Sebastian mentally grappled with handling the unexpected, Joe called out from the audience.

“He’s the most ticklish person I know!”

Sebastian shot a frustrated look at Joe, who had made effort to ensure his sudden announcement could be heard by removing his mask and cupping his hands either side of his mouth, so that his statement landed loud and clear.

Leo kept his eyes on Sebastian, his interested gaze now journeying away from Sebastian’s neck, where it travelled down a torso illuminated orange, past twitching, hairy legs where it eventually landed at Sebastian’s feet.

“Is that so?” Leo smirked.

Sebastian, still grinning, still glaring menacingly at Joe, took in a short breath and then shot a insistent look at Leo, “Yes,” he huffed, keeping his promise by refusing to say ‘no’, even though he really wanted to, “It’s true,” he pressed his lips together and nodded his head quickly, “He’s not lying …” he straightened his back, fully aware of how ‘on guard’ he looked, his entire upper body stretched out and ready for the taking, something he probably would not of allowed if he had known tickling would be part of this production, no matter how much he wanted to dazzle the high profile, Hollywood actor …

Leo tilted his head and expressed an entertained smile, laughing through his nose as he began to make his way to the right side of the throne.

“I admire your honesty. Mind if I test it out?" The audience chuckled, some individuals within the crowd whooped, Joe himself stood excited and overjoyed by the unexpected turn of events, “After all, there’s quite literally nothing you can do to stop me,” Leo informed.

Sebastian squeezed his eyes shut as he chose to lean into the possibility that this might not happen, no, that this would not happen; Leonardo DiCaprio was not about to tickle him, whilst he was restrained to a throne in the middle of a barn on Halloween … Of course he would be joking! Who in their right mind would do something like that? And if they did, surely it would just be for a moment? Just to be playful?

No, shit, balls, this is happening. He’s going to do it, isn’t he. Fuck, Bash, fucking brace yourself.

Sebastian chuckled to himself as he watched Leo continue to pace slowly from side to side as he came to the conclusion that he might have just allowed his body be trapped within a situation made for tickling …

Sebastians obvious dire apprehension mixed with a thirsty, keen want to go along with a narrative he still could not figure out had become so alluring to the audience that the vast majority of them, including Joe, had taken their eyes away from the floating feather and penetrated their stare directly at Sebastian himself; his skin that seemed to glisten in the candle light, his blushing cheeks, his startled yet eager breathing, the way his armpits presented themselves with such depth, their shape completely exhibited …

Joe placed his mask back over his face, mostly to hide how quickly his mouth dropped open as he watched Leo suck his own index finger, consuming it entirely with his saliva, where he then slid it out of his mouth and carefully reached out to Sebastian, his now soaked index finger ever so gently poking the depths of Sebastian’s right armpit, causing the twenty one year old’s torso to jolt so fiercely that his legs thrashed out within the stocks and the loafers once covering his feet flew away from his soles, landing somewhere on the floor in a gentle tumble.

Leo raised both eyebrows and grinned mischievously; there was no need to whisper out the word ‘whoa’, or to verbalise his astonishment at Sebastian’s level of sensitivity, his facial expressions and the cheeky twinkle in his eye were enough to communicate his satisfaction.

Sebastian remained rigid and alert, all ten of his now exposed toes curling into an intense scrunch after he had unintentionally kicked away the loafers that were no longer hanging from his feet; he scowled at Leo with a look that said, ‘please, don’t do that again’, but the fierce grin spread across his face somehow also said the words, ‘please, please do it again …’

The audience muttered their joy to each other in the form of excited whispers, some applause arriving from the back of the crowd as it eventually increased in volume and made its way to the front row, where even Joe found himself clapping and whooping, his mind blown by a sight he never thought he would ever see …

Both Horned Devils picked up a loafer each.

They turned to the applauding crowd and threw the footwear into the expanse of masked heads, where the left loafer was caught mid air by Andrew and the right loafer landed somewhere to the edge of the audience, over a group, who all fought like hyena’s to grab at the stray piece of footwear once belonging to Sebastian Croft.

No one dared to snatch the loafer out of Andrew’s hands; they respectively allowed him to keep it in his grasp, where he analysed the leather that made up the shoes shape, the stitched details over its surface, the chunky heel and of course, the moist, warm inside that felt a little damp not from Sebastian’s sweaty feet, but from the grass he had walked through only thirty minutes ago.

Andrew closed his eyes and bought the inside of the loafer to his face, where he breathed in the scent; oaky, musky, rich and leathery, a smell that made his mouth water and his eyes bulge open into a dangerous scowl that he directed entirely at Sebastian, a scowl that said, ‘one day, it will by my turn to have you …’

Leo nodded to the two Horned Devils that had assisted him since Sebastian had been locked within the throne.

Whilst one soldiered passed Sebastian and headed towards the bar, the other soldiered his way towards Sebastian’s now bare feet.

Sebastian’s grin twisted into pursed lips as both of his eyebrows lifted in an impressed expression as he watched The Horned Devil at his feet produce two individual lengths of thick black string from inside of his cloak; curiously, he peered over the stocks and watched The Horned Devil pinch his left big toe, where he carefully began to loop the string around the chunky digit, expertly pinning the string in a tight knot to an upturned nail hammered into the stop of the stock.

Sebastian felt the sole of his left foot stretch, his eyes now shifting to his right foot as The Horned Devil did the same thing to his right big toe; once both big toes had been pinned back, The Horned Devil stepped away and allowed the secondary Horned Devil to return from the bar, a large tin bucket of ice cradled at his chest …

“We need to ease her in,” Leo explained, as The Horned Devil dropped the bucket of ice at the base of the throne, some splashes of frozen water gushing and spilling over the edges, “If you laugh too hard, too fast, we might break the connection …” Leo nodded in thanks to the two Horned Devils as they returned to their separate sides of the barn, “… If we go too slow, we might not get the connection at all …” Leo smiled at Sebastian, who continued to blink his thick eyelashes at Leo, Joe, the audience, The Horned Devils, taking all of this in second by second, seemingly willing to do whatever it takes to be involved, his eagerness clear to Leo, so much so that it nudged Leo into pointing an index finger still coated in his own saliva directly at Sebastian’s face, “… And no faking …” Leo warned, clicking his fingers “… She can sense a faker just like that,” —click!— “It pisses her off, it angers her, it makes her disappear, and believe me when I say …” Leo knelt down by the bucket, rolled up his sleeve and then reached inside, scooping out a large amount of ice with his right hand, “… We do not want her to disappear …”

Sebastian nodded quickly, the sight of ice, if anything, making him relax. He had experienced something like that before, a few years ago, in one of the only kinky sexual encounters he had ever taken part in, with a guy who had a thing for ice, eating chocolate off stomachs, trailing fingertips over nipples. Sebastian enjoyed it, he remembered it vividly, the way the ice melted over his skin in the heat of the summer sun, as he lay there sweating and aroused on the middle of his mattress. It was erotic and intimate, fun, playful and of course, ice aesthetically worked as a method of tickling during this lavish, almost romantic candle lit set up between he, Leo and the surrounding sea of masks …

As Sebastian’s weight sank into the throne, he smirked smugly and acknowledged another thought that landed in his head; Ice, I can handle ice, but as soon as the thought arrived, the feeling of frozen, wet, slippery cubes against the calf of his right leg arrived too, swiftly informing Sebastian that actually, he might not be able to handle this at all …

Sebastian kicked his right leg so hard the stocks rattled; he ran his tongue over the roof of his mouth as his uncertain glance darted from Leo to ice, ice to Leo, Leo to ice and back again as Leo trailed the cubes towards the inside of his right thigh …

Joe’s eyes widened as he watched Sebastian try to clamp his thighs shut, a large gasp leaving Sebastian’s mouth as he arched his back and breathed in through an ‘O’ shape made by his lips, his laughter held at the back of his throat for now, even though Sebastian knew that the laughter itself is what Leo required to speak with ‘her’, with ‘she’, with the ‘spirit’ making that feather seemingly float in mid air; but Sebastian was told to not fake it, so doing something such as laughing for laughings sake felt wrong, as if it could get him into trouble, during a moment in time where he already felt very much in trouble, being bound and tickled by ice with dozens and dozens and dozens of eager eyes watching him …

Sebastian did not have the chance to worry for a second longer about providing any natural laughter; as soon as the ice arrived at his tummy, Sebastian found himself, without even meaning to, twisting his torso from side to side, his butt leaping from the seat and then landing back down again in a repetitive bounce as Leo trailed the cubes of ice around his navel, up his abs and down to his right hip, causing Sebastian to bite his upper lip, “—Mnn—” and then giggle through a closed mouth, “—Mnn! Mnn! Mnnn!—” his stomach sucking in and then expanding out, his chin planting down hard over his chest as he let out a disgruntled, “—GUHH!—” the ice feeling sharp and cold, an almost burning sensation taking place around his waist as Leo dragged it over his now wet, chilly flesh from one side of his lower torso to the other, transforming Sebastian into a flustered, squirming toy that had no choice but to endure the now thankfully melting tool dissolving into liquid beneath Leo’s fingertips, the closer the ice journeyed towards his left underarm.

Sebastian’s giggles evolved into alarmed grunts as the ice inched itself nearer and nearer to his left armpit, his head now twisting down to that direction as his jaw stretched open into a manic yelp and his eyes widened in panic, the ice disappearing completely as Leo’s fingers slid across Sebastian’s nipple and left his upper body entirely.

As Leo shook his hand clear of water, the feather swooped down to the book and drew one line across the page, its strength charged by Sebastian’s reactions, reactions that had started out gradual and then picked up in pace, the closer the ice had teased its way toward his armpit.

“… We’re in …” Leo confirmed.

Sebastian licked his lips and cleared his throat, acknowledging how quickly the water over his right leg, thigh and stomach had begun to dry off as the audience cheered and applauded Leo’s success; the scratch against the page symbolising the fact that they had indeed made full contact, something that confirmed to Sebastian that, so far, he was doing the right thing, the production was working along with him and, above all else, he was providing Leo with what he wanted.

Leo returned to the tin bucket.

He knelt down and reached back inside, picking out another set of ice cubes where he made his way back towards Sebastian’s torso.

Sebastian scowled at Leo with a menacing glare, a ferocious grin across the twenty one year old’s face showcasing the fact that simply watching Leo near his upper body with the ice made him feel manic, insane, overly excited, filled with dread, panicked and suspecting, all at once, the word he promised himself not to say leaving his lips sooner than he had expected, “—no, not my armpits!—” it escaped in the form of a rushed and hopeful whisper, a whisper that exposed his apprehension at what might, no, would happen in a few seconds; his underarms tickled by ice, an area of his body that could barely, not even for a second, handle one index finger pressing into its centre …

Leo was able to apply the ice into Sebastian’s right underarm rather efficiently. Having the young mans arms so tightly bound above him made access into the depths of the pit practically effortless. As soon as the ice made impact, Sebastian growled; not the kind of growl a person would provide when frustrated or angered by something happening against their will, but the kind of growl that sounded animalistic, determined and from the very back of the throat. It was a snarl, a gasp, a sharp intake of breath, and when Sebastian realised the ice would remain in place and not only stay gathered over the hyper sensitive delve of flesh that made up his right armpit, but rub and slide from side to side, up and down, from bicep to pec, from pec to bicep, Sebastian found himself tumbling into a senseless fluster of disbelief, his head twisting to face the events taking place within his pit, his eyes unblinking, his legs kicking, his torso wiggling from left to right as more giggles started to leave his lips, an overwhelmed, “—oh my god, oh, oh my god!—” announcing to Leo, Joe and the surrounding audience that Sebastian might be finding this tricker than he thought he initially would …

The feather bobbed and dropped, bobbed and dropped, its light weight fluttering over the open book as the masked guests within the crowd took their entertained gaze from the feather to Sebastian, from Sebastian to the feather, Sebastian’s breathless giggles and “—oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!—” on repeat causing the feather to twist in the air and slice another line of ink across the page where it flew back up into its hovering position, the ice now melting beneath Leo’s fingertips as he rubbed it into the depths of Sebastian’s right armpit.

Sebastians jaw widened as he felt the ice gloss into nothing, however this time Leo did not slide his touch away, instead he kept his fingers in place and started to scratch the remaining expanse of water into Sebastian’s right armpit, transforming ‘The Chosen One’ into a thrashing, rebellious and once willing captee that no longer giggled …

Now, Sebastian laughed hard, his eyes squeezing shut, his entire upper body writhing away from Leo’s touch the best it could, his torso stretching out to the left, his stomach muscles flexing, his fists curling into balls, his throat thickening as he began to shout out a loud, “—no, stop!—” his lips pressing shut, his legs kicking so hard the stocks creaked and shook, his head now rocking from side to side with such speed that his heavy chunks of hair from his head had entirely littered the top half of his face, his entire body now completely consumed by the sensation taking place in his right underarm, a sensation he could not handle for a second longer, a sensation that seemed to be happening for another few seconds, and then another few seconds after that, until Leo had decided to keep his hand in place and to now step behind the throne, where he was able to reach around its structure and toy with both of Sebastian’s underarms at the same time, his movement out of Sebastians sight causing Sebastian to hiss and yell out a worried, “—no, oh no! Oh my god! Please! Please! Oh! Oh stop, stop, stop!—” his begging was put on pause thanks to the mindless laughter he had no choice but to expel as Leo stroked both of his underarms at the same time, without even using much force or pressure, just gentle rubs and pinches, pokes and combs, all enough to add a thin layer of sweat over each of Sebastian’s cheeks as he sat there laughing, only able to laugh, laughter being one of many reactions along with his physical kicks and writhes, a noise in itself that made the feather glide down to the book and this time, instead of scratch a line, it stayed there and wrote out a single word …

The Horned Devil to the left raised his right arm; a signal for Leo to stop, to take a look at the book, to ensure balance was held when actioning the levels of touch that would produce such steady amounts of laughter.

Much to Sebastian’s joy, Leo’s ten fingertips lifted away from his underarms, allowing him to drop his head over his chest and giggle into his collarbone, his eyes glancing up past thick eyelashes where he glared at Joe, who stood in the complete opposite stance to Sebastian; still, watching, unbound and free …

Joe acknowledged Sebastian’s feisty scowl, a breathless and intent look that, even in the midst of a moment where Sebastian was still gathering his own thoughts quite simply said, ‘stop worrying about me …’

Leo hopped over foliage and some of the bushes surrounding the throne where he casually strolled towards the book, placing one hand on his hip as he glanced at the word written by a feather now hovering over his shoulder.

“… Harder …” Leo read out in a whisper.

Slowly, Sebastian lifted his head away from his chest and narrowed his eyes at Leo.

The audience cheered and applauded, Joe now not clapping his hands as he glanced from side to side; even if Sebastian’s intense gaze seconds ago had told him not to worry, Joe could not help but feel slightly concerned at how much ‘harder’ tickling his friend could endure, when he seemed to suffer from simply having his armpits stroked and combed through for what was probably less than a minute and a half …

As Leo returned to Sebastian, Sebastian straightened his back and shook his head, another playful grin urging Leo on, whilst also showcasing a heightened level of lunacy that Sebastian couldn’t keep to himself; this entire situation was fun, thrilling, invigorating and wonderful, something he so madly wanted to continue, all whilst equally feeling utterly dreadful, torturous and unbearable, something he so madly did not want to carry on with; two juxtaposing mindsets that continued to grapple with each other constantly within the depths of his brain, leaving him feeling confused and bewildered, chaotic and dazed, until he could no longer try and compartmentalise his thoughts, mostly due to Leo arriving before him, his arms reaching out, his hands shaping into claws, all ten of his fingers travelling towards his armpits, five to the left and five to the right …

“Graagh! Graaaaaaaghhhh—” Sebastian presented that animalistic growl once again, this time through clenched teeth and flared nostrils, Leo’s fingernails penetrating his pits, “—aggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhh—” the growl continued; it became grainy and stern, forceful and loud, “—aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa—-AAAAAAARRRRGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!—” until he cried it out in the form of a rabid scream that echoed out into the barns rooftop, Leo’s fingers now invading the very depths of his armpits, not with a toying stroke or a gradual comb, but with a ravenous wiggle and a merciless grab, Sebastian’s ultra ticklish caverns now fully infiltrated by Leo’s touch so relentlessly that Sebastian had no choice but to twist, writhe, jerk and thrash within the throne, the laughter leaving his throat utterly relentless, sadistically non stop and retrieved quite ruthlessly without any intake of breath between each heave-like expel.

“GRAGH! AHAH! AHAHA-AHAHAHAHAHA-AHAHAHAHA— please, please! Please?” He whined, using his intakes of breath as a chance to beg, “—GRAGH! AHAHAHAHA! AHAHAHAHA-AHAHAHAHAHAHA-AHAHAHAHA—Oh wow! Okay! Okay! Okay? Please? Please! Please, please!” He whined again, “—GRAGH! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-AHAHAHAHAHAHA-AHAHAHAHAHA—Oh! Oh no? Agh! I can’t take it, this is mental!” He admitted, uncaring at this point if his level of urgency should be part of the improvisation or not, “GAAAAH-AAAHH! AHHHH! AAAAAGHAHAHAHAAHA-AAAAHAHAAHAHAHAHA-AHAAHAHA—stop, please, please, oh, please stop!” Sebastian, now entirely breathless and consumed by laughter and physical dubiety, had absolutely no idea how insanely sexy his deep, commanding and growl-ish laughter appeared, its strength and force filling the barns capacity entirely.

The feather had wobbled and bobbed since the stocks had been secured over Sebastian’s ankles, however now, with Sebastian’s level of laughter echoing throughout the barn at such a speedy, cackly, uncontrollable rate, the feather had seemingly began to straighten out; it levelled horizontally and became peacefully still, as if the inked quill was now held by an invisible thumb and index finger …

“GRAHHH! AGHHH! AHAHAHAH! AHAHAHA! AHAHAHAHA!—ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod—GRAGHH! AGAHAHA! AGAHAHA! AGAHAHAH— oh, oh please, please, my, my arms, my, my pits are too, too t—AGH! AHAHAHA! GRAHHH! AGHH!— oh, oh my god, bloody hell, I’m too ticklish, I’m too ticklish, please! Please! Please!—”

—From his position facing Sebastian, Leo could take in all of Sebastians facial expressions as he continued to dig deeper into each of Sebastian’s armpits; the young man’s juicy cheeks had started to boil pink, a thick later of sweat had arrived over the top of his puffy upper lip, his nostrils were always flaring, closing up, flaring, closing up, his watering eyes squeezing shut only to bulge open again, the laughter and shouts thunderous, the screams and the breathless visceral, the senseless mumbles causing his face to crease and the veins either side of his throat to thicken …

Joe stood gawping at Sebastian; he had never seen his friend react like this, he had never seen him kick so hard, twist so forcefully, he had never seen muscles or definition over his torso such as the ones presenting themselves right now, he had never seen Sebastian so out of breath, his face so swollen, his eyes so glazed, he had never heard Sebastian laugh this hard, this non stop, this intensely …

It was then Joe realised he had never heard laughter like this before …

Leo grinned sadistically as he watched Sebastian throw his scowl down to each armpit, first his left and then his right, as if taking in the sight of what was happening might make things a little easier; this chosen ticklee had clearly never had their armpits tickled like this before, Leo could tell by the constant pull of his arms, the way his fingers stretched out and flexed, the level of energy being used to try and pull and push his torso out and away from Leo’s constant touch, his mindless blabbering causing Leo to tease Sebastian verbally in the hope that it would get another response from the feather floating just two feet behind …

“You want it to stop, Sebastian?” This time, Leo was the one growling, “Even if you do, you know I can’t, you know I won’t, not till I’ve got what I want …” Leo revelled in seeing Sebastian gasp and grin, his back arching so hard that his chest protruded, his forearms wiggling as if electrocuted, “… I’ll break you,” Leo announced, “… You’ll be broken, several times over, and I’ll just keep going, and going, and going …” Leo became satisfied time and time and time again by Sebastian’s inability to respond, his energetic glow and passionate squirming informing Leo that he held a fiercely strong willingness to continue, and almost disturbing respect towards being ‘chosen’, even if he had now laughed, giggled and struggled to breathe for the best part of five minutes non stop …

Leo slowed down his scratch and transformed it into a gentle stroke, often sliding his fingertips down Sebastian’s sides where he would massage his ribcage, causing Sebastian to jolt and bounce, his eyelids falling shut as the intense tickling levelled down to a more taunting degree, something he could just about handle, something that allowed him to refill his lungs with air as his chest burned, his abs tight and throbbing, his throat dry and coarse …

“If you’d known we’d be tickling you like this, would you have allowed us to tie you up?” Leo almost dribbled as he asked his question.

Sebastian shook his head quickly, wasting no time at all in providing his genuine answer, where he then suddenly spasmed as Leo dug his fingers into his right underarm, causing Sebastian’s entire body from head to toe to stiffen up as if jabbed by a taser, where his structure would then sink like jelly into a bowl as soon as Leo took those invasive fingers and slid them over his chest and shoulders, his fingernails drawing circles around Sebastian’s nipples, giving him a chance to cough and splutter, to shake his head for the second time, then a third time, to blink away blurred vision, where Leo would trick Sebastian into thinking his vigour had decided to be gentle again, when in actual fact, Leo only wanted to see that stiff posture return; so he would go straight back into another armpit, hard and fast, where Sebastian would shout out a fierce, “—Oh please! Give me a break!—” only to slouch back down in a slump as soon as Leo’s fingers would exit and carefully dance over the sweaty expanse of his neck or jaw, Leo now chuckling heartedly at Sebastian’s vocalised disbelief.

As Leo placed both palms over Sebastian’s stomach, where he felt his body lift and drop, lift and drop, lift and drop as oxygen naturally returned through his throat, the sound of scritching and scratching could be heard behind Leo as the feather started to write out more than just one word.

… Scritch scratch scritch scratch scritch scratch …

Leo felt the tug of intrigue pull his attention away from Sebastian and towards the pages of the book, after all, the feather had only ever written singular words and never a sentence during Leo’s experience with the spirit, however, the thin layer of sweat shimmering over Sebastian’s skin and the heftiness felt within each huff and pant made Leo stay put and take both hands over his ticklee’s shoulders, where he provided them with a reassuring squeeze.

“Are you okay, kid?” Leo asked.

Sebastian sniffed as he nodded quickly, his hair now a damp, ruffled mess, “Nev, never better,” he declared, another determined grin showcasing bright white, square shaped teeth.

Leo smiled, the warmth of his palms recharging Sebastian, “You’re doing great, I mean it …” Leo cocked an eyebrow, “… You’re really fucking ticklish, aren’t you? This must be Hell …”

Sebastian’s grin stretched wider, his armpits glistening in the candlelight, tiny pinch marks now visible around his underarms and biceps, “I’ll, I’ll do whatever you need me to do …” he announced avidly, his voice grainy and deep, “ … It’s just tickling …” he ignorantly explained.

Leo smirked, his hands sliding away from Sebastian’s shoulders as he cocked an eyebrow.

“I’ve lost count how many times I’ve heard that,” Leo whispered, offering Sebastian another playful wink as he turned away from the throne and walked towards the book, the feather now hovering horizontally and completely still within mid air.

The audience stood on tip toes as they eagerly awaited Leo to reveal what the feather had written.

Leo stroked the stubble decorating his chin and took a few steps back in shock, placing his right hand over his hip.

“Well I’ll be damned …”

Joe’s mouth continued to hang open behind his mask as he watched Leo face the crowd, his hands lifting high in the air with praise as a look of surprise washed over his face.

“This is the first time she has asked a question …” Leo turned around slowly, where he faced Sebastian, the audience behind mumbling and murmuring as they continued to verbalise their amazement, Leo now slowly approaching Sebastian’s left foot.

Sebastian licked his lips as his adam’s apple bobbed within his throat, speaking his next set of words as if they were lines from a script or a piece of dialogue, the words feeling like the right thing to say during this moment of heated improvisation.

“What … What did she ask?” Sebastian shuffled forwards in alarm as Leo placed his pinkie fingertip against the sole of Sebastian’s left foot.

Leo turned away from Sebastian, taking his teasing touch with him, much to Sebastian’s relief, where he then carefully picked up the book, taking it away from the surface of the stump.

He presented the open pages to Sebastian, who narrowed his eyes through blurred vision, his sight trying to take in the details of inked lettering written down as if by hand.

He then read out what he saw …

“… Where’s Tom? …”

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