Because, if there’s a time or a place to be honest about these things, it’s here and it’s now, and I wanted to be the woman in that video.
Is that why I came?
Not to confront him, but to…
I wind an arm around the signpost. It’s the only thing holding me up.
Seriously? What was I thinking? That I’dseducehim? Win him back somehow?
Back?It’s not like I ever had him anyway.
Because despite being a rational, intelligent woman on the cusp of a decent career, I, along with everyone else, fell for the ridiculous Prince Charming thing. I did.
And, oh, this is so pathetic, but I can admit, here in the dark, surrounded by people fully owning their secret, inner lives, that for one second this week, before he went and got filmed with that woman, a tiny part of me foolishly thought that Zion, despite the fake setup of our marriage, might somehow choose me forreal.
As if what we were making was a life. I mean, a few fake dates and stay-at-home dinners and a single, confusing movie night do not a couple make. The fact that it felt so right just makes it all the more pitiful.
It’s exactly like the time I got up the courage to ask Andy Burke to the prom after tutoring him in Spanish all senior year. Every Thursday after school, I’d gone to his place. And every Thursday, I’d sensed a connection between us—moments that felt so real, so meaningful. The night I asked him, he looked at me like I’d just spoken to him in Klingon or, you know, told him I ate koalas in my free time.
I can’t believe I’m here: little Tina Hernandez, thinking she can bag a ten when society’s decided she’s nowhere near that.
Someone moans loudly from one of the tents. Another voice giggles in response.
I force out a slow, calming breath, straighten, and let go of the sign.
No, I’m not admitting defeat yet. I’ve not been entirely truthful with myself, but that’s okay. It’s been a messed up couple of days. A girl can be forgiven a delusion or two, right?
You know what? I need a drink.
To the bar, then.
I slip off my shoes and take off at a fast walk, my feet so sensitive on the paved path that I move over to the grass. It’s chilly and damp and feels so damn good I could lie down and do a grass angel.
The idea makes me smile.
Okay, so cocktail first. Then, maybe I’ll have the courage to return to the dungeon and confront Zion. Or maybe I’ll do something completely different. Something wild, something kinky. Something that in no way involves Zion Mason.
Something that is just for me.
9
Twyla
After making my way through the crowd, I settle on the last empty barstool, happy to get this chance to sit and just take a minute.
Standing behind the bar is the small, white, short-haired pixie of a woman who checked me in earlier at the front gate. She’d explained the bracelets to me and given me the rundown on the camp’s stringent consent and privacy rules. At the gate, I’d immediately checked her bracelets and seen her pronouns.
“Hey,” she says as she makes her way over to me now. Behind her cat-eye glasses, her eyes dip to look at my bracelets. “Oh, nice to see you again, Twilight! You registered with me!” She waves. “I’m Max.”
“Yeah. Nice to see you again, too.” Itisa relief to see a familiar face, even if I only met her today. She was nice. And if she recognized me at check-in, she made no mention of it.
“Must be hot in that thing.” She points at my mask.
“It’s awful.” I laugh, looking at the people dancing and flirting and fucking in the space behind me. “Especially in here.”
“Imagine how they feel.” She indicates a person a couple stools down, in head to toe latex.
“Ouch.”
