Back at the apartment, I took it in with less tired eyes than the night before. Apart from the easel in the corner of the living room and a beaten couch, not much had Marin’s touch. The bare wooden floor matched the old townhouse vibe, but a nice rug could breathe some color into the space. The wall around the windows had brush strokes of paint on it as if Marin had been deciding on a color, but the rest was a sad shade of beige.
The single bedroom was not much different, with just two dressers and a closet—apart from the one wall that was like something out of a magical landscape. Well, and a huge-ass bed that took most of the room.
“Half of the closet is yours, I hope that’s enough.” Marin slid the door to the side, showing the empty shelves.
“Thanks.” I opened my suitcase and proceeded to fill in the space he’d given me. “What’s the gallery’s vibe? I need to decide what to wear.”
He sat on the bed and crossed his legs at the ankle. “Queer independent artists. A mix of modern art, sculptures, and smaller installations.”
I nodded. “Okay. So nothing is too weird for that crowd, but I don’t have to shove myself back into a sad clothes closet either.”
He chuckled. Ah, how I loved the sound. “Yeah, something like that.”
I littered the bed with the contents of my suitcase and opted for a purple crop top with Michelangelo’s quote “I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.” It was my favorite quote and often reflected in my sculptures. I matched it with black skinny jeans and a string of silver jewelry chain that went over my hips, through my belly button ring, and around my thighs.
Marin picked out his clothes, and we dressed like we were sharing a dorm room again—seamlessly passing each other socks as if we haven’t lived apart for four years.
In tight chinos and a black shirt tailored to accommodate his two top tentacles, one on each side, Marin looked delectable.
“You only show one set of your tentacles. I haven’t seen the other set since the beach outing way back when.” I’d occasionally spotted the two appendages wiggle out of his midsection in the past; like when he’d needed them to lift furniture, or when we’d gone swimming in the lake in summer.
“People are tolerant in NYC and they’ve seen a lot, but I keep the lower ones hidden when I’m in public. With the current political climate, I don’t want to stir up any trouble. You know I can’t hide these, and two tentacles look less menacing thanfour.” He waved them at me. The long, thick tentacles would fit under an oversized hoodie, but that would look even more bizarre than having them out.
Reaching out for a set of hoop earrings, I sat next to him. “Menacing. Sexy. Depends on the point of view.” I inserted the row of rings in my left ear without looking into the mirror.
He chuckled. “Yeah, yeah.”
Thank fuck he was used to the aggressive flirting I disguised as friendly banter. Sure, I could flirt the socks off anyone, but with Marin it had always been real. He didn’t know that, and I had to keep it that way for the sake of our friendship, and my getting over a crazy crush on my straight friend.
“I’m ready.” Marin took in my attire. “You weren’t always this—” He waved a tentacle, indicating my appearance.
“Loud? Out? Gay?” I smirked and cocked my hip for good measure.
“Yeah.” He smoothed his shirt down, but his gaze was on my belly button that I adorned with a zirconia-studded dangling ring.
If I blinked I would have missed him licking his bottom lip. Mind was playing tricks on me. I was more smitten than I’d thought.
“I guess it was my natural progression when staying in the art circle. For one, nobody cares. And the more eccentric I look, the more artistic vibe I give off.” I twirled around and headed for the door.
“Don’t forget the parka, Mr.I’m always cold!” Marin caught up to me in a few long strides.
We made it to the opening so early that only several people were inside the brightly lit space. The gallery’s colorful signMuses & Peculiarities Art Gallerywas above a door in a chain of stores, between one selling bohemian clothes and another with music records.
“Marinos, you came!” A woman in pink pumps and a high blonde ponytail opened the door. She eyed me from head to foot, smacking her lips. “And you brought a—”
“Plus one. This is Kert.” Marin touched my lower back with his tentacle, sending tingling warmth through me.
“A pleasure.” She offered me her hand to shake, showing off her pink nails with tiny skulls painted on each one.
“Likewise.”
“Let me give you a tour before everyone arrives.” She led us inside, past a table with hors d’oeuvres and a DJ behind a console, tapping on his laptop. “One second.” She approached a woman sitting on a high chair with her long legs crossed. “These are my friends.”
The woman nodded sharply, but the tight bun on her head hadn’t moved. “Be back before the important people arrive.” She smoothed her black rhinestoned suit down and thrust her chin up, her gaze at the door.
“Of course, Ms. Mina.” DeeDee returned to us and touched Marin’s tentacle. “She’s the curator. You’ll get to meet her later. She won’t talk to anyone until after the initial welcome. She says it’s bad juju or something.”
I narrowed my eyes at her familiar gesture towards Marin.Did they have a past?
