Candace’s Curse
I
Candace Arlo collapsed onto her bed. Technically, it was just a mattress on the floor, but still, it was hers. She’d grossly underestimated how much work moving would be, and how much stuff she didn’t have, but finding an apartment she could afford felt like a miracle. Sure, the rent was right on the edge of her budget, but now that she was living so close to downtown, she could pick up extra shifts at the restaurant and not have to waste so much money on gas. It would be tight, but Candace was determined to make it work. Anything was better than spending another night in that house.
It wasn’t that Candace disliked her family, but they were cursed—and not in the metaphorical sense. Her “birds and the bees” talk had come with a little bonus. Her mother called it a blessing, but Candace felt otherwise.
“It’s called an orgasm,” her mother said. “And it’s a beautiful thing. For women in our family, whenever it happens to someone while they’re thinking of us, we can experience a little echo of it. I’ve never had a disappointing night with your father, and if he hadn’t gotten the snip after you came along, you’d probably have a lot more siblings than just your sister.”
“Gross, mom!”
“You’ll understand someday.”
But she never had. As she got older, Candace dressed in the most unflattering way possible. She refused all her mother’s attempts to get her to join the cheer squad. Her mother had done it, and Mandy was the team captain. Mandy was two years older than Candace. Their father had picked Candace’s name, only later telling their mother that he thought it’d be funny, Candy and Mandy. But their mother didn’t think it was funny, and neither did Candace, so the nickname never caught on.
Unlike her sister, Mandy Arlo made the most of Candace’s curse. The day she turned eighteen, she signed up for every social imaginable, posting photos and videos of herself working out and practicing cheer routines. Every night, Candace could hear her sister pleasuring herself while countless guys jerked off to her “content.” And Mandy was a screamer. It got even worse when she started dating Jaxson. Whenever he came over to spend the night, Mandy screamed until the windows rattled and one of their parents would tap on her door, begging them to keep it to a dull roar.
Candace couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
***
Life on her own was even better than Candace expected. Without school taking up so much of her time, she could work fifty or sixty hours a week. She made rent easily and found most of the “house” stuff she needed at thrift stores. She also had plenty of time left over to binge her favorite hobbies—anime and video games—without being subjected to her sister’s debauchery through the walls. The best thing about working so much was that she was able to actually make friends with a few of her coworkers. The only girls she’d sort of hung out with at school had gone away to college.
“Hey, Candace, you’re into that anime stuff, aren’t you?” Jenn asked.
“Oh yeah,” Skylar interjected. “You should totally go!”
“Back up,” Candace said. “Go where?”
“There’s a new convention in the city next month,” Jenn said. “You should check it out.”
“For sure, you could cosplay!”
Candace held back a grimace. Cosplay was the exact kind of exhibitionism she’d spent her whole life avoiding. “I don’t know…”
“Come on, it’d be fun!” Skylar said. “You know who you’d be perfect as, Lain!”
“Who?”
“Lain, from Serial Experiments Lain.”
“Is that an anime?”
Skylar laughed. “I’m not surprised you’ve never heard of it, it’s old AF.”
Skylar pulled out her phone and looked up the series. “Oh yeah, 1998. You weren’t even born when this was on.”
Jenn grinned. She was a Millennial, which seemed ancient to Candace. “Were you even alive in ninety-eight?”
Skylar gave her a playful shove. “Almost!”
To Candace, she added, “Anyway, you should totally do it! See, you look just like her!”
Skylar held up her phone, showing Candace an image of a girl with an auburn-red bob that was indeed quite similar to her own hair. The character wore a dark jacket over a white blouse and tan skirt, which was one of the most “normal” looking anime outfits Candace had ever seen.
“I guess maybe I could… Are you going?”
Skylar shook her head. “I can’t. It’s parents’ weekend, and I really need the extra shifts so I can finally get my car fixed.”
Candace wanted those extra shifts, too, but she promised Skylar she’d consider attending the convention if she could find the right clothes.
***
The convention was two months away, so Candace spent the next few Mondays and Tuesdays—her “weekend”—scouring every thrift store in town. She found a top and skirt easily enough, but the dark jacket eluded her. Everything she found was too flashy, too big, or simply too… leather. After going home empty-handed for her third weekend in a row, Candace started to lose hope. The skirt and top, at least, she could wear as normal clothes; they were a little nicer than her preferred style, but were modest enough. It wasn’t until she began seriously considering giving up that Candace realized how badly she wanted to go to the con. She could always attend without cosplaying, but once Skylar put the idea in her head, Candace was determined to succeed. She’d buy a jacket new if she had to.
Victory came the following Saturday, when Candace woke up early, around ten in the morning, to go hunting at garage sales before her shift. She struck out at so many houses that she lost count, then finally found it. Buried in a small mountain of suits, polos, and Hawaiian shirts, the perfect dark jacket.
“Excuse me,” Candace asked, “how much is this?”
The woman running the sale looked about Jenn’s age. Clearly, the pile of clothes belonged to her husband or boyfriend, possibly with an “ex” preceding the label. She shrugged. “Five bucks?”
Candace paid the woman and drove straight back to her apartment to get a shower before her shift. She was eager to share the good news with Skylar and Jenn.
***
Mr. and Mrs. Arlo had dragged Candace to countless school sporting events to “support her sister.” She hated every moment of it. She didn’t give a shit about sports—a bunch of kids, mostly their parents, acting like life or death hung on the outcome of a stupid game. She hated the crowds, bumping into her in line to get to their seats or the bathroom, shouting over her head at the players to “box out” or “play D,” whatever those things meant. And she especially hated watching Mandy flounce around the field or the sidelines with two dozen other girls, dancing and shouting. In her skin-tight sweater showing off tits that weren’t much bigger than Candace’s own A-cups, and a skirt so short the crowd got a glimpse of her panties at least once per routine.
The crowd at the con should have been equally annoying, but it wasn’t somehow. It was every bit as chaotic—just as much standing in lines and getting bumped by people—but there was an energy to it, a buzz. Some people were there to buy rare books and videos, some to get merch, so many were dressed in gorgeous, elaborate cosplays that made Candace feel drab by comparison, but one thing connected them all. They were there to celebrate something they loved.
Candace tried to walk the exhibit hall and look at all the merch on offer, but was frequently interrupted by people wanting to take her picture.
“I love your schoolgirl outfit!”
“Is she from BNHA?”
“I don’t think so…”
“No way, are you Serial Experiments Lain?” A middle-aged man asked.
Before Candace could answer, the woman beside the man asked what that was.
“It’s a series from the late 90s. We should watch it, you’ll like it. I wonder if it’s on Crunchyroll…”
His partner shot Candace an apologetic look while he rambled. “Babe, did you want to ask for a selfie or something?”
“Oh yeah! Is that alright?”
The request caught Candace off guard, even though she’d seen many people posing for selfies and taking pictures of other cosplayers. She couldn’t come up with a good reason to refuse them and didn’t want to be rude, so she nodded. The man hunched down beside her and made a peace sign while his partner took their picture. He stood very close to Candace but somehow managed to leave a buffer space between them.
“Thanks so much,” he said. “The guys on my Discord are gonna flip.”
The rest of the day went like that. Candace snuck in a few moments to shop at the stalls, but she didn’t really have money to spare. She bought a tiny Anya from Spy Family to put on her keychain, but otherwise simply reveled in the energy of the con.
On the drive home, Candace felt like she was floating. Drifting just outside her body as if it’d been someone else dressed up and getting all that attention. Was this how Mandy felt after a sportsball game? The costume was so simple and modest that she’d never felt like she was showing off or using her body like some kind of whore. She’d seen plenty of girls who were doing that, in her mind, anyway. Namis and Hatsune Mikus in little more than a bikini with maybe some very short jean shorts. But somehow at the con, it was different. Candace was sure some of the guys there were taking photos for their “spank banks,” but she found she didn’t mind it as much as her sister’s cheerleading. Maybe everyone being anime fans made it different somehow.
Whatever it was, Candace wanted to do it again. Maybe next year she’d get a badge for the whole weekend instead of just Saturday. She’d never felt so high in her life. Her whole body was electrified, hot and cold tingles running the length of her spine. She was already pondering what costume she could put together for next time.
***
“I’m so jealous,” Skylar said. “Was it awesome?”
“It was a lot of fun, actually.”
Skylar laughed. “You sound surprised.”
A million thoughts ran through Candace’s head: Her mother, Mandy, cheerleading, their weird-ass curse… She couldn’t get into all of that in snippets of conversation between waiting tables, even if she wanted to, which she really didn’t.
“I don’t really like crowds.”
“That’s fair. I used to get really stressed out when I worked the lunch rush, and that’s while making good tips.”
Candace saw Jenn watching them and left to check on her tables. Something had changed to make their manager less chill than she used to be. Maybe it was because three servers were working a shift that needed two at most. Either way, they couldn’t stand around talking too much without getting the stink eye.
After delivering food to her last occupied table, she found Skylar again. “More people knew the costume than I thought. They wanted to take my picture.”
“That’s awesome!”
“Some even wanted pictures with me.”
“Did you get any pics? I never even got to see your fit.”
“Just a mirror selfie,” Candace said, pulling up the photo and showing Skylar her phone.
“I wonder if any of your fans posted theirs on Insta.”
Candace hoped not, but Skylar already had her phone out, searching the con and Lain.
“OMG, here you are!”
“Wait, really?”
Skylar showed her several photos in the search results, then flipped through them herself. “Some of these are really good…”
She must have seen the look of abject horror on Candace’s face. “What’s wrong?”
“I just… don’t like people looking at me.”
“Dude, you’re so uptight. This is what cosplay’s all about. And I can tell you were having a blast, am I right?”
“I guess so…”
They got back to work, and Candace got cut less than an hour later. She did the math on her way home and discovered she’d made less than minimum wage that day. Candace decided to start looking for a second job, putting all thoughts of cosplay and social media out of her mind.
That night, while she scrolled through job listings, Candace felt a tingling between her legs that bloomed into a gentle blaze. Tight pressure spread through her body, and she would have jumped out of her chair if she could. The pressure built until she thought she might explode, or burst into flames, but then waves of pleasure rolled through her body, starting below her belly button and rippling out to her toes, her fingers, and the hairs on her head.
It was over in moments, leaving Candace slumped and panting in her seat. Was that what an orgasm felt like? And why was her chest so itchy?