Chapter Sixteen
sixteen
Selena
The next morning, I woke up early and prepared to record another episode of the podcast.
After my night with Warren, I was left feeling satisfied and hungry for more. Even though I know nothing can come from my hook-ups with Warren, I still crave more of him. I am totally losing my mind.
I spent the first part of the morning editing the clips of my interview with Warren. The interview was only a few minutes long, so I had to add my own commentary. I’m going to take that with me for the podcast today and then add the interview to my blog.
When I enter the building, Marcy greets me and takes me straight to the recording studio, where I spot Ally, the host, and she’s everything I’m not—blonde, unaffected, with a Midwestern crispness that makes her voice sound like a clean glass of water.
She’s got a silver septum ring, chipped navy polish, and oozes with confidence.
“Sit,” Marcy says, and I obey, popping the headphones over one ear so I can still hear myself think.
I pulled up the script I created, and the list of questions Ally sent me.
My voice has never sounded right in my own head, always a half-step too low, the vowels pressed thin by old orthodontia and years of knowing I don’t really belong in whatever room I’m in.
Ally pulls up a chair, taps at her laptop, and gestures for me to lean in.
Her words are warm and direct, like an older cousin who could show you how to roll a joint or sneak a bottle into prom.
“We’ll do one dry, then go live, okay? Just like we talked about—your byline, the Shadows story, whatever details you can legally say out loud. ”
She motions for us to go live, and nerves fire in my stomach. I’m nervous but excited.
“You’re listening to Stories From the Bay. I’m Marcy North, and tonight we’ve got a true urban legend. Meet Selena Ramirez, local journalist and Shadows explorer. We are excited to have her with us today to talk more about the story that has blown up here in Sunnyvale.”
“Thank you so much for having me, Ally.” I smile as she gives me a thumbs-up.
“Selena, let’s get straight into what everyone wants to know: are the rumors about Shadows true?”
“Ally, Shadows is more than just the rumors that are spread online. It’s like walking into an alternate universe where anyone can be anything they want to be,” I begin.
“The idea of this underground kink club has excited us all for years. What else can you tell us since you had first-hand experience?” Ally prompts.
“Only people who get invited know it exists. And once you’re inside, you’re not really a person anymore—you’re a test. A product.
Maybe an experiment. The whole place is designed to see how far you’ll go if nobody’s watching, what you’ll do to yourself, or to someone else, just to feel like you belong.
It’s about self-expression and finding freedom.
” I feel myself smiling as I talk about Shadows.
“So is it a sex club? A fight club? Or, like, a cult?” Ally asks.
For some reason, I feel protective of Shadows, and those descriptions anger me.
I shake my head. “No, it’s nothing like that.
It’s about exploring your desires with consenting adults.
The masks allow people to keep their identities hidden if they wish.
You can leave whenever you want.” My voice comes out with a hint of defiance, and I don’t mean to sound so snappy.
Ally raises her eyes, but dismisses my tone. “So you’ve been twice. Would you go again?”
“Yes, I felt so free when I was there.”
“Ok, we’ve got some comments coming in from our social media pages. One listener wants to know if the men are as hot as they are described. No one really knows since no cameras are allowed,” Ally explains.
This time, I feel my cheeks flush. “I’ve never seen their faces, but from their personas alone, yes, they are all very hot,” I giggle.
Ally’s face beams. “Anything else you can tell us about these masked men?” she asks.
“No, just that it’s clear that they value their privacy, and I think we should respect that,” I reply.
Ally goes on to talk more about the blog series, and we chat for a few more minutes about the best drink I had at the club, what I wore, and where to find my social media posts. We are just about to wrap up the interview when a call comes through for Ally.
“Hey, it appears we have a hungry listener who is dying to chat with Selena,” she says, opening up the line. “First caller. Go for it.”
“You think you’re so fucking clever, don’t you, Ramirez?”
It’s a man’s voice. Young, maybe. There’s something strained about it, like he’s chewing glass just to get the words out.
Ally tries to laugh it off. “Nice to meet you, too, caller. Got a question for Selena?”
Marcy gives us both a questioning glance. I feel the tension rise in the room, and a nervous energy washes over me. Could this be Warren trying to mess with me?
No, he wouldn’t do that.
“Do you ever wonder what would happen if you just…stopped? People forget you, that’s what. Maybe you should, before someone helps you do it. Working with people from the King Mafia will get you killed.”
The chill isn’t in the words. It’s in the silence that follows and the sense that he’s still on the line, waiting, hoping for a reaction. He mentioned the King Mafia. I have no idea who or what that is.
I feel myself grinning, and I can’t help it. “You called in,” I say. “I must have really hit a nerve.”
The click is abrupt, and the line goes dead. Marcy blinks, then laughs for real, a high chime that punctures the tension.
“Okay, wow,” she says. “We just got threatened on air. That’s a first for us,” she laughs nervously. “Well, thank you so much for listening today, and don’t forget to follow the stories.” She ends the podcast and stares blankly at me. I try to keep my pulse from galloping off a cliff.
“What the hell was that?” Ally asks.
“Selena, do you know who that was?” Marcy asks me.
I shake my head. “No, I’m guessing it’s just someone trying to play a prank.”
Marcy looks at me, and for the first time, there’s something softer in her face. “You’re not scared?”
I want to say no, but that would be a lie. “I’m scared all the time,” I say. “But it never stopped me before from following a story.”
“Do you know who the King Mafia Family is?” Ally asks me.
“Should I?” I can feel both of them staring at me, and it’s making me uncomfortable.
“This is purely speculation, but I’ve heard that the King Mafia Family is a dangerous organization in Sunnyvale. No one truly knows who they are, but they are dangerous. Are you involved with them?”
This time, I laugh loudly. “Am I involved with the mafia? No. I barely have time to hang out with the one friend I have in this town. I work endless hours on my stories. I don’t even have a social life.”
Ally nods like she understands. “Well, let’s just hope that was a jerk trying to play a prank.”
“I’m sure that’s all that was,” Marcy says, trying to calm us down.
I thank Ally again for the interview, and then Marcy walks me to the parking lot. “Just remember to tell someone where you are,” she says. “Even if it’s just me.”
“I promise I’m fine,” I tell her, but I can see that she’s worried.
“I know, but I still worry. Just promise me you will let me know if anything else happens,” she requests.
I promise and mean it.