CHAPTER 3
ETNA
Since New Jersey,we’ve been on a losing streak. Won our first three away games and lost the last two. I suppose two games can’t really be considered a streak, right? It’s just two games.
Tomorrow, we play Vegas, and I have a feeling we’re going to lose. A combination of our mentality after Jersey and the fact Azure Dayne is their goalie has a way of creeping in like a virus. Meeting his eyes is like staring your own death in the face. I can feel the chill of my demise run down my spine when his eyes land on me. Yeah, I also know I’m not the only one who feels that way.
Some say that’s the reason Vegas won’t trade him. Some say he’s the key to Vegas’s success. Everyone knows about Azure Dayne’s stare. It gets in your head. Hockey players are superstitious on a good day, but usually not about individual teams. However, hands down, the last thing we tell each other before we get on the ice to play Vegas is to never look Azure in the eyes.
Keno’s met him several times through the Gays Can Play events, and says Azure is just as chilling in person. Maybe more so. But he’s a nice enough guy.
I’m not sure I’ve ever talked to him. Not even in passing.
“Hey, are you supposed to meet up with Azure?” I ask.
“Mm-hmm,” he answers and pulls out his phone. I watch as he taps around. “But I haven’t heard from him.”
Apparently, when he was initiated into the Gays Can Play group, they explained there’s an unofficial rule that when they play each other, whoever is on the home team reaches out to the person/s on the away team to see if they want to get dinner and catch up. It’s a support thing.
Of course, it’s completely okay to reach out and say you’re not up for it that night and it’s equally acceptable to decline an invite. But communication is important.
I’ve gone with him to meet some of the guys he’s most fond of. Buffalo, obviously. When we played Buffalo last week, Lo came in from Toronto, dragging Azure with him since Vegas just played in Toronto and we had a big ol’ gay party that turned into a bigger gathering than normal because we brought Hilt, Horny, and Julian with us to catch up with Lo, even though Julian wasn’t on the team when Lo was.
“He’ll probably get in touch tomorrow, but I don’t know.” Keno shrugs. “Not a big deal. He just got that boyfriend who he maybe or maybe doesn’t tie up.”
I laugh. Apparently, the traditional greeting with Azure is asking him if he’s tied up anyone lately. We’re unsure where that originated or why. However, in Buffalo, he didn’t give his usual ‘not lately’ answer. Instead, he answered with a smirk that turned everyone’s attention to his son-of-celebrities boyfriend.
There’s someone for everyone.
Today, we’re walking the Vegas Strip. We stop in front of the Bellagio to watch the fountain display. I think I’ve seen it a hundred times, but I don’t hate watching it. Especially when the wind is blowing just right and I’m sprayed with water. There’s nothing wrong with a little mist in the dry Vegas heat.
Arizona is a desert. Practically the entire state is a desert. It’s hot. But there’s something very distinct about Vegas heat thatjustfeelsdifferent from the Arizona desert we’re used to. Not only the desert heat but also infrastructure heat. Massive crowds of people and body heat. Pollution heat. Electricity heat.
Honestly, it’s probably one of the most miserable places I’ve ever been. There are too many people. It’s too loud. Too dirty. Too damn hot. The other option is to stay inside the casinos and be suffocated by smoke; even if it isn’t allowed everywhere, it still smells.
Yeah,loveVegas.
We stop in a casino and both lose $20. That’s always our spending limit. Once, Keno won $1,000, and we had a very expensive steak and lobster dinner that night. But usually, we lose. I’m not entirely sad about it, since sinning is where addictions begin.
There are a lot of things to do in Vegas, but they’re all different renditions of the same thing—gambling, smoking, shopping, eating, or going to a show. Honestly, it’s not really my cup of tea. If you’ve been here once, you’ve been here a thousand times. It never changes.
Except that it gets dirtier. My feet keep sticking to the sidewalk, and I don’t even want to know what that is. It’s like being in a movie theater. Gross.
“Look,” Keno says and points ahead. A pride flag catches my attention. “Let’s check it out.”
I follow as he drags me through the crowd toward the flag. There are a couple drag queens there taking pictures with travelers. We watch the crowd for a minute before someone approaches and offers us a brochure. It has the two drag queens we’re watching on the front.
“Ah. They’re part of a show,” I say.
“They’re super cute,” Keno comments.
I turn my attention back to them. Yeah. They’re cute.
“Want to share a banana split?” Keno asks.
I glance at him, wondering how he went from admiring a couple of drag queens to asking about ice cream. They rhyme. I suppose that’s a connection.
“Sure. Okay. Don’t we need dinner first?”
