Finn smiles as he glances at me. “That’s fantastic. I’m sure the mechanics are all glad to hear it.”
I snort. “Yeah, I guess. Bunch of weirdos.”
He pulls up a little closer to me as we walk, and I half-smile to myself, pleased as hell.
Might be something to getting laid right before a social event because the edge is really off tonight.
When we get to the show, I tense up, but it’s not too bad. The old hotel is full of art, paintings and posters and framed prints covering the walls, while sculptures and objects are carefully placed around the spacious and ornate ballroom. A spectacular bouquet of flowers is presented up front, and more are scattered about, adding even more elegance. There’s a large crowd, but it’s easy to disappear into, especially since Finn and I both immediately turn our attention to the art.
“Check out the comics,” I say, gesturing to some framed prints. “Nineties lesbian super heroes.”
“Kavya and Zooey found these at the con,” he tells me, excited. “Aren’t they cool?”
I notice that there are photographs of the artists around too, as well as old party posters, videos of drag shows, and documentation of parades.
“Nice,” I say. “Interesting to see all the kinds of art the gayborhood makes.”
“I thought so, too,” Kavya says as she approaches with Zooey, each dressed in casual, smart suits.
After quick congratulations and greetings, the four of us stand in front of a large, colorful painting, abstract shapes seemingly exploding into other abstract shapes.
“We heard that the arts organization didn’t like the parade because it wasn’t ‘real’ art,” Zooey says, making air quotes. “Kavya and I kept going back and forth about whether that meant we should only focus on paintings and sculptures.”
“I’m glad you didn’t,” Finn says.
“I agree,” I add. “This other stuff adds a whole new dimension.”
Kavya takes a glass of champagne from someone passing by and hands one to Zooey, too. “We decided it was our job tocelebrate all the art that the gayborhood creates. It would be a shame to limit that to appease someone else.” She takes a quick drink from the champagne, then another. “And just remind me of that as I nervously wait to hear about the funding.”
“The show is a hit,” Finn says, “whatever the organization decides.”
Kavya cocks up a grin. “That’s the spirit.”
The two curators get swept back up in the crowd, and Finn and I return to looking at the art, walking slowly. My hand goes to his lower back, and he eases alongside me. We move naturally, and it feels easier to walk through the space with him than if I were alone.
“Don’t know what’s wrong with that guy from the arts org,” I grumble to Finn. “Prick had an attitude problem, if you ask me. And I have an attitude problem, so I should know.”
He laughs. “You’ve got an attitude solution, I’d say.”
I laugh, too. “Sure. I’ll take it.” I shake my head. “They want to fund good art. Fine. But that man was literally turning his nose up at the scavenger hunt. Must be a real asshole, the kind who thinks art is only for rich people in fancy suits.”
“Tell me how you really feel,” a woman says as I nearly plow into her.
I stumble back, surprised, and manage to knock over a little table. Programs for the show spill to the floor as the table clatters, and I scramble to pick it up. “Fuck me,” I grumble.
Once I get the table upright, Finn has scooped the programs up, which he deposits with a flair. “Thank you,” I mouth, horrified for myself, but he only smiles.
Aware that I’m fucking this up, I look to the woman. “I’m sorry about that. My fault.”
She sports a purple jumpsuit, and she shoves a hand in one pocket as she looks at me evenly. “You were caught up in your rant. Something about an asshole arts organization. A prick withan attitude problem?” She turns up a slight smile. “That would be my arts organization, by the way. If I overheard correctly.”
My face falls, and my skin feels icy. Oh fuck. I’ve ruined everything.
Everything!
Finn’s hand lands on my bicep, grounding my spiraling thoughts, and he jumps in, saving me. “Riley was praising the curation of this show,” he says quickly. “Did you check out those old photographs of Pride floats? So cool. There’s nothing like a life-size papier-mâché unicorn to really make you love the gayborhood.”
Kavya appears beside us. “Sorry to interrupt, is everything okay? I heard a clatter.”
