I see movement to my left and lean up to get a better view. It isn’t him, but the sudden jolt of adrenaline has me focusing my attention back to the comings and goings of his apartment building’s entrance. I press the button for the seat warmer and lean my head against the headrest, remembering the night I left.
I tried to get to Catarina after service was over, but she left before Fenris dismissed service. At least he gave her that kindness instead of being gawked at by everyone as they exited. I yelled for Melinda, and when her big blue eyes lifted up to mine, she batted them like that has ever done anything for me.“I need you to do me a favor.”
She blushed and stepped closer while biting her bottom lip.“Anything for you, Zedediah.”
“Uh, okay.”I widened the space between us.“I need you to keep an eye on Catarina for me.”Looking around, I continued,“Just make sure she doesn’t draw any more attention to herself.”
She folded her arms and scrunched her nose at my request.“What for?”
“Because I’m asking you? What other reason do you need?”I sharpened my eyes and glared down at her. Her arms dropped and she loosened her posture.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t—yeah, of course I will.”
“Good.”
That’s all I left her with before spinning around and walking away.“Wait… Zed!”I didn’t stop, her voice behind me caused my pace to pick up, leading me out the door.
Brushing away the memory, I let my body sink deeper into the warmth of my seat, but before I can shut my eyes a door slamming grabs my attention. As I scan the parking lot, I see two figures walking in my direction. I peek up, hoping they don’t see me watching them, and immediately recognize Rylan. He’s laughing with a woman, and even though the back window is slightly cracked, I still can’t make out what they’re saying.
They keep a comfortable distance from each other, and they aren’t touching, not even holding hands. Nothing in their body language signals to me that they’re anything other than friends.
There are warm undertones in her tan skin, and her thick brown hair drapes over her shoulders. She stands opposite him, so I only have a moment to look before he moves, blocking her from view as they walk across the street. My focus shifts to his now-sandy-blonde hair, unmistakable eyes, and strong jawline.
I watch as she opens the door, and he grabs the bar, holding it open for her as she walks through before he follows behind and disappears inside.
Earlier this week, I found out Rylan works at a place called Le Rêve Noir. I watched from the lot across the street as he stood by the entrance waving a metal-detector wand over bodies. He and the other guy working the door took turns walking up and down the sidewalk, looking at those waiting in line. It took me a minute before I realized what they were doing. They were ensuring everyone was following the dress code, which included various masks. That definitely threw me for a loop. Once I saw they were mandatory, I stopped by a local party supply store in town. Halloween leftovers lined the aisles I walked through, but when my eyes caught a glimpse of a clown makeup kit, I paused. For a second, it felt like she was standing beside me.
Lucy loved clowns, but she loved Halloween even more. She was the only reason Jonah and I even knew what Halloween was. Every year she’d tell us of a memory she had from one of the twelve Halloweens she was able to spend with her mom. She always had this way of making it feel like we’d lived them too.
Shaking the memory off, I sifted through clearance items before I found a tiny section of masquerade items tucked near the back. Most of the masks were loud, covered in feathers and insane amounts of glitter—an absolute no for me. Instead I grabbed something a little more basic and simple. A black half-mask with just enough glitter to catch the light. I held it up to the cracked mirror at the end of the aisle; it fit well enough.
That night, I waited in line again. The security guard working alongside Rylan scanned me up and down before waving me through. I stepped inside and immediately felt like I was being swallowed up by the music. It was so loud I could feel the vibrations in my chest. The walls seemed to be lined in red velvet, and the lights were constantly shifting to different shades of red. I clearly didn’t belong and left after only a few minutes.
Growing up isolated left me socially awkward. I needed to figure out a way to blend in, plus I couldn’t watch Rylan properly from the inside anyway. So I left. When I made it back to the hotel I thought about Jonah. How he’d crack jokes about us being “the weird homeschooled kids.” He’d have hated this place and loved it at the same time.
Yesterday I followed Rylan through town. He seemed to be running your usual errands. He made a grocery store run before stopping by the post office. Later in the afternoon he had lunch with a redhead and the same woman I’d seen him with tonight. The redhead never left his side, and his hand stayed slung over her shoulder, his fingers gently trailing over her skin every so often. I couldn’t see her face, but the exposed skin I could see was covered in tattoos. When he got back to his apartment, hedidn’t leave again so I figured he had the night off, which led me to assume he’d work tonight.
I look down at the clock, and right on time, Rylan comes back out, the woman from earlier isn’t with him. He chats with the doorman before heading into the parking garage and I wait ten minutes after he pulls out before following. Once again, I park across from Le Rêve Noir, grabbing a newly opened spot near the front that’s close enough I can watch. Once he walks in and doesn’t come back out, I grab my mask from the backseat and head across the street. From the outside this place looks ordinary. Just like any other building on any other street. But inside, it’s a different world. I let myself take it in this time—it probably helps that I stopped by one of the many smoke shops here earlier. The cashier helped me find something mild to take the edge off.
The velvet walls stretch upward, connecting to a ceiling that’s striped in black and burgundy, mimicking a circus tent. Lights spin color across everything, shades of blood red, bruised purple, stark white flood everything in the lights path.
At first I thought this was a gentleman’s club from my initial visit. But taking my time to look around now, I see the giant bird cages that are each holding a performer. I see both male and female performers, signaling to me the fluidity of it all. This place seems to blur all of the lines, refusing to be boxed into any category.
We were taught that people like this are wrong, but I’ve known for a while that the truth isn’t so simple. There’s more fluidity in the world than they led us to believe.
I watch the performers on the individual stages scattered throughout the large room, and in the cages, as they move their bodies without shame or “permission.” I stop for a minute and allow myself to feel the strange sense of calm that settles in my chest. I stand, taking in how unapologetically themselvesthey are. The masks they’re wearing are figurative, at best. But somehow that feels more honest than anything I’ve seen in longer than I can remember.
Of course, the masks add an air of anonymity to the atmosphere. Everyone wears one, including the staff, although others have painted theirs directly on—like her.
I hear the music shift and watch the curtains part before she steps forward. Her movements are slow and sultry as her hands grip the giant hoop suspended in midair. She moves with it, like it’s a part of her. She arches her body before stretching out and curling her legs around the metal. Purple light hits her just right, revealing the ripple from the muscles along her back. Her movements are almost hypnotic. I shake my head, reminding myself I’m not here to gawk. But damn, it’s hard not to.
A curved purple sofa is nestled into a corner where I sit and scan the large room, spotting Rylan behind the bar. The sofa shifts when an older gentleman sits on the opposite side. A woman with long blonde hair stands to his side. My eyes slowly trail her body up and down. She’s dressed in a checkered mesh outfit that leaves very little to the imagination. My eyes roam over the details of her face where white paint smooths over her skin with tiny black diamonds painted above her eyebrows. A deep red curve is painted to stretch beyond the natural corners of her lips. And a lone teardrop is drawn to look as if it’s falling from her eye.
She tilts her head, obviously noticing me staring, and her eyes meet mine. She perches herself on his lap, causing him to let out a gasp that turns into a laugh. Then she smiles at me as she leans into him, whispering something in his ear. He looks at me and grins. His voice is loud—it has to be to cut through the music. “We have a suite reserved in the back, she’d like for you to join."
"No thank you.” I give them both a friendly nod and smile before rising from my seat to make my way to the bar, quickly finding an empty stool and sinking into it.
I have to remind myself to relax. Rylan looks in my direction and our eyes meet briefly. I raise my hand signaling to him and watch him talk to a few of the other customers as I study the details of his mask whenever the lights hit his face just right.
