“I should probably—”
“Get home?” he said, cutting me off. “Why? What’s there?”
Good question.Safetywas my first thought for an answer. But Jay’s curious and adventurous gaze made me forget about that for a moment. I’d also lost Daisy’s trail already; there was nothing to be done but wait for her to return home.
And then, there was something about Jay’s presence that relieved my fear of doing something unexpected. It magically convinced me to allow the night to take on a character of its own. Together, we slunk down the hallway, which was bathed in a green light, until we reached the lounge area—a big room where lamplight kissed the leather of booths, like moonlight on the river at night. The clientele was mixed between Colored and white, mostly keeping to themselves, but also mingling, in friendly, distant ways.
Jay walked me to a counter where waiters were serving patrons and waved down a man pouring beverages. “The usual!” he called. “Two?”
I sat on a stool, my eyes scanning the dimly lit room. Jazz drifted from the corner stage, where a performer, dazzling in a sequined dress, captivated the crowd. Their movements were exaggerated, grandiose, as though every sway and twirl was meant to defy the laws of gravity. The crowd roared with applause and laughter, their voices swelling with the rhythm of the performance.
“There is... a man dressed as a woman?” I said, my voicehushed, in awe, as I watched the performer glide across the stage, their heels clicking against the black wood.
Jay laughed—a soft, musical sound. With a smooth spin, he turned his stool to face me, his eyes glowing with curiosity. “Have you never heard of a female impersonator before?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think I have.”
Jay raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Where are you from?”
“Oklahoma.”
He snickered, like it was amusing. “Well, that explains it.”
Strange as it was, I liked that he laughed. There was something comforting in it—like my past could be as light as a joke.
The performer onstage continued their dance, their long, frilly gown shimmering like starlight. Their eyelids glittered with powder; their lips were painted red.
“So, this is normal in New York?” I asked, my voice softer now. “For men to dress as ladies?”
Jay’s eyes didn’t leave the stage. “Not everywhere, but here it is. The Green Light has drag shows every Thursday. It’s where the men dress up as women, and vice versa. I guess you could say it invites people of the queer variety.”
“Queeras in strange?” I asked, trying to make sense of it.
Jay nodded toward a booth at the far end of the room, where two men sat across from each other. They were speaking quietly, their hands grazing on the table. They were intimate—too intimate to be just friends. I could hardly fathom the sight, yet it made my stomach churn with both fascination and discomfort. No one seemed to mind. Everyone else went on with their drinksand laughter, as if the sight was normal.
“Yes, strange indeed,” Jay said. “It’s become attractive to artists and vaudevillians of all sorts. People like the places that let them be free and loose. It’s why my father gives donations to the owner every year.”
I glanced around again, taking it all in—the expensive chairs, the ornate wooden bar where people in fine suits sat with people in dresses, the plush curtains that separated different parts of the room. The air was thick with freedom and rebellion.
The waiter appeared with our drinks in hand—two delicate, triangular glasses.
Jay slid one toward me with a smile.
“For me?” I sniffed the glass, and a sharp, chemical scent hit me—something faintly like nail polish. “What is it?”
“Gin and soda,” Jay said, casually.
“Gin?” I gasped. “That’s... that’salcoholic! They serve alcohol here?”
“Shh!” Jay whispered, leaning in a little closer, his smile playful. “Yes.”
“Isn’t that...illegal?” My words were hushed, like saying it too loud would get us caught.
“This is why we don’t scream about it. We just drink it in private.” He took a swig of his own drink, his face twisting a little at the sharp taste. “What do you know about mixology?”
I shook my head, the word unfamiliar. “Is that some sort of science? I never made it past tech.”
Jay grinned, waiting for the waiter to turn his back beforehe quickly reached over the counter and pulled out two glass bottles—one clear, the other dark. He left the bar, vanishing behind a long burgundy curtain, and motioned for me to follow.
