The crowd screams as the lights hit the stage. And there he is, say his name and he shall appear, Sylas. Tonight he's turned up to eleven. Sky-high heels, pink everything, hair bigger than my entire head.
"Is that—” I start to ask, but then Sylas spots me. I seem to be almost a head above the crowd.
“Oh my God, is that Gavin?” His voice carries over the music. “Everyone say hi to my giant friend Gavin! Look at that outfit! Honey, you look like a snack!”
The entire club turns to look at me. I'm gonna die. This is how I die, shirtless in compression shorts while hundreds of gay men stare at me.
I wave weakly. The crowd goes wild.
"Okay Bitches, this one’s for the baby gays!”
Music explodes from the speakers, and Sylas starts lip-syncing to a song called "Pink Pony Club." The crowd knows every word, including the geeks who are screaming along, completely different from their usual shy selves.
"Here!" JP appears with a drink, it’s an amazing concoction of pink with an umbrella, and enough fruit to count as a salad. "Welcome to the club, literally!"
"Thanks, man." I take a sip. It tastes like sugar, bad decisions, and an extra twenty minutes at the gym tomorrow. Perfect.
"Come on!" Max grabs my hand. "Dance floor!"
We push into the crowd as a group, sticking close. The music pounds, bodies everywhere, and suddenly, I get why they come here. Nobody cares that I can't dance for shit. Nobody's judging. Everyone's just... free.
Max throws his hands up, eyes closed, moving like the music's part of him. He's beautiful like this, confident and lost in it. I notice Leo keeping close, subtly blocking when other guys try to dance up on him.
A guy slides up to JP, all hands and a big-toothed grin. JP's whole body language shifts from confident to closed off in half a second.
"Come on, beautiful," the guy's saying as I move closer. "One dance?"
"Nah, I'm good with my friends." JP's smile is plastered on, taking a step back.
The guy follows. "Your friends won't mind sharing?—"
"He said no." I step between them, not aggressive, just... present.
The guy looks up at me, calculates the size difference, and melts back into the crowd with a "whatever."
"Thanks," JP says, then louder over the music with that forced grin: "I talk a good game, but I never actually go home with anyone anyway."
"You don't have to?—"
"It's just trauma. We've all got it somehow." He shrugs like it's nothing, but his eyes are saying everything.
Fuck."Someone I need to take apart?"
He laughs, brittle and sharp. "Nah, fahgeddaboudit." The accent is terrible, probably meant to lighten the moment.
I throw an arm around his shoulders with a quick squeeze. He tenses, then leans into it for just a second before dancing away.
"If you ever need anything..." I call after him.
He throws me a real smile this time, small but genuine, before dancing in between Max and Leo.
"You're popular already!" Doc shouts, appearing at my side.
He's right. Guys keep appearing in my peripheral, giving me looks I'm starting to recognize. One brave one actually approaches.
"Hey, gorgeous," he grins up at me. "Can I buy you a?—"
"Thanks, but I'm here with friends!" I say politely.
