Nash: Call any of us. Anytime.
Nash: Love you.
My teeth clench, and my eyes sting. What the fuck is he doing? That one line is laced with accusation—I can feel it. Blaming me for leaving. For not coming around more. For not being a good enough brother or son.
Without typing a response, I shove my phone in my pocket, letting Nash’s last text go unanswered.
Glancing up at the stop on the Métro, I notice we’re in Montmartre, so without knowing why, I jump off before the doors can close. I have no real destination tonight. I just know I don’t want to be alone in my apartment.
Rex is on a date, so I don’t want to bug him. And I won’t get into any fights without him. I may be reckless, but I’m not that stupid.
Instead, I reach the city street level and pull out my phone, letting my feet guide me without fully accepting where it is I’m heading. I’m not even sure I can get in, so it’s a mystery why I even bother.
But within about five minutes, I’m standing in front of a discreet city club, the red letters above the door displaying the wordLegacy.
Call me curious, but I just want to see where he works. Is that so wrong of me? I know he’s in there. I could text him if I wanted to and ask him to get me in. But that would be too eager.
Walking up to the bouncer at the door, I try to play it cool.
“Votre carte de membre?” he asks. When I wince, he asks, “Do you have a membership card, sir?”
“No,” I reply. “I can’t just get in?”
He opens the glass door. “You can request a one-night pass at the hostess stand. If they’re not all out for the evening.”
“Thanks,” I mutter in response as I proceed through and into the lobby. Music plays behind the thick black curtains, and there’sa cacophony of voices. From here, it sounds like any other bar or club.
There’s a short line of people waiting to get cards, so I stand behind them, awkwardly shuffling my feet. This is stupid. Reckless. The right thing to do would be to ask Julian if I can visit him at work, not just show up unannounced.
But I’m in a mood. It was that text conversation with my brother that set me on edge. Now it feels like I’ve got something to prove.
Like…I’m not in a relationship. Julian’s not my boyfriend. Freya’s not my girlfriend. I’m not tied to either of them, and I can come and go anywhere, anytime I please.
Even in my head, it all feels wrong. That’s not how I want things to be with them at all. What is wrong with me?
Maybe I’ll feel better once I see him.
So text him, you idiot.
“Can I help you?” The young woman behind the booth calls me forward.
“Uh, yeah. Can I get a night pass?”
“We have a few left. It’s two hundred euros for the night, and I’ll need some information from you first.”
She passes me an iPad with some questions on it that I quickly fill out before handing her my credit card. The list of rules I have to agree to are impressive. No phones. No fighting. No drugs or outside alcohol. Condoms are mandatory.
Then it goes through some quick guidelines about consent and best practices.
Nice job, Jules.
After signing it, I hand it back to her, and she offers me a selection of wristbands to choose from. Each are labeled. I pick up a green one and inspect it.
“That means you’re open to playing with anyone,” she says with a polite smile.
“Uh, sure,” I reply before slipping it on my wrist.
“Have fun,” she adds before I lift the black curtain and walk into the club.
