The woman swallows, then slowly turns to face me. She eyes me carefully. “Are you…Are you?” My heart beats so quickly, I think it will explode.

I grab her wrist. “Do I look like someone? Who? A diplomat?”

“Are you the floor show?” She points to my dress. “What’s that Muppet’s name again? Fozzie Bear?”

“No, I’m not the floor show.” I bite my lips together. “Excuse me.”

Clearly, it’s time for a new party survival plan.

Setting aside the quest to find my father, I discover that if I stand under a balcony, the shadows hide my orange-ness. An extra bonus is that no one can see me and/or make Muppet comments. I’ve hoarded a pile of canned soda and sugary snacks on a nearby table. My night is full.

In fact, I’m having a sweet time when two figures step into the darkness beside me.

Squinting in the dim light, I size up the pair of strangers. The first man is older, tall and burly with long white hair past his chin. He wears a classic tuxedo that matches the one on the figure beside him. The second stranger is a boy with broad shoulders and a rigid military stance. His hair is shorter, earthy brown and loose. Since it’s super quiet under the balcony, I can’t help but listen in.

Okay, maybe I could help it, but I’m a little curious and a lot bored.

“I don’t understand why we’re here, father.” It’s the boy.

“More orders from the angels, son.” The older man has a deep and rolling voice. “They want closer relations between the realms.”

My heart thumps in my chest. Angels? Closer relationships between the realms? Maybe we really are on the edge of a new era. I smile, thinking about a ghoul-free life where I choose my own job, clothes, anything. The boy speaks, interrupting my thoughts.

“I understand. What should I do?”

“Try to socialize; meet some quasis in particular.” The father’s eyes glimmer in the shadows. His irises are mis-matched: one blue and one brown.

They’re thrax. High-fives to Miss Thing for actually teaching something useful.

“Quasis aren’t people,” snaps the boy. “They’re demons.”

What?! My hands clench into fists. Actually, we’re mostly human, thank you very much.

“Angels say they’re different. Try to keep an open mind.” The father points to the dance floor where Cissy shimmies up and down Zeke’s thigh. “Take that girl, for example. Why don’t you ask her to dance? She seems quite, uh, friendly.”