The pirate costumes became a given a long time ago. We wore different versions three years straight as little kids for trick-or-treating. After that, it was a joke, and by this point, it’s pirate or no costume at all. And Halloween in Prague with Chase requires a costume.

I get a reprieve from another shot when Chase plants a hand on the hilt of his fake sword and swaggers off into the crowd of monsters and skin. Fog covers the floor from machines and creeps up to our thighs, and I have to dodge a few LED spiderwebs. The DJ is decked out in a giant pumpkin head and currently playing the Ghostbusters theme blended with a techno beat.

I’ve pulled back on the nightlife the past few days. Shockingly, passing out every morning after drinking all night can lose its appeal to a twenty-one-year-old college dude. Not Chase—who almost seems to be going harder to make up for me. But I missed quiet. I missed exploring the city. I missed brooding over lyrics and strumming aimlessly, chasing what feels like magic.

It just so happens the spellwork lately includes auburn hair and a sexy voice and a restless desire to fill in the rest. The wandering often involves all that, too.

Tonight, though, I would have come out regardless of Chase threatening to knock me out and carry me out of the flat. Even if my pirate companion has twice now managed to find glitter somewhere.

I’m handed a green drink once we break through the throng of people. Chase is already downing his and on the move again toward three lifeguards, huddled off on the edge of the dance floor. He opens with an, “Arr, lasses, we’re here to plunder yer booties,” and maybe I needed one more shot.

The bikini-clad tourists fall for it hook, anchor, and cannonball, so he catches me around the neck and pulls me forward to join them. But rather than offering the chicks my sword, I’m playing up Chase tonight. Unlike him, I can fucking wingman.

“What’s your favorite part of Prague?” one of the two brunettes yells at me.

A wolf howl breaks into a house mix of Monster Mash while I tip my cup at my best friend. “Chase has taken me so many places. I can’t pick.”

She moves closer. To me. “Maybe you can show me a few.”

“Nah.” I scrunch up my face and clap Chase on the shoulder. “If you need a guide, he’s the better man.”

Chase chuckles, and then he slaps me on the back. “Foster’s just being shy. This sexy man loves giving tours to hot women. Especially of our flat.”

He adds a wink. I shoot him a look to knock it off, but he just pinches my cheek.