Chapter Thirty-Five
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Getting kicked out of Quinn’s world was traumatic and it hurt more than Kya was willing to admit. What had gone wrong last night? Her posts on Quinn’s set had garnered thousands of likes. One video in particular, of Quinn dancing behind the decks, lost in her own world, was just shy of going viral. The short clip captured her beauty, talent, and something impossible to define, something otherworldly. Whatever it was, it held everyone’s attention. Too bad Quinn was blind to all this.
She compared her performance to that of Angelo, which wasn’t fair. The other DJ had an unusual sound and drew something different from the crowd. He started out mellow then gradually gained muscle. Angelo was no genius, however. He relied heavily on all the old tricks, plunging beat drops and familiar hooks. Quinn’s set had an easy flow that moved through everyone. Kya had felt it, first-hand, on the dance floor. She, Ivy, and Amanda, a little buzzed from champagne, had the time of their lives. Kya was a little distracted, her phone held high, trying to record Quinn at all angles. She was focused on her mission of getting as much footage as possible, not solely to post on social media, but to fill her personal archives. When she returned to California, reviewing these videos would instantly take her back to Quinn. Even with all that going on, Kya had a blast. Ivy and Amanda were feral, spinning wildly, hands in the air, releasing inner demons. By the end of the night, they were pink in the face, but at peace. Quinn, though, was miserable.
Nick was partially to blame. Kya ran into him twice last night. The first time was during the interim, Quinn had wrapped her set and Angelo had not yet taken the stage. Amanda and Ivy had left for the bar with the promise to return with a drink for Kya; she was waiting on Quinn at their reserved table. Nick had a girl on his arm and made sure she’d noticed. He pinned the petite brunette to his chest, but he didn’t bother to introduce her. Instead, he asked about Quinn.
‘How’s our favourite DJ? I heard she got into it with Angelo earlier.’
‘Did she? I wouldn’t know.’
‘Yeah, you would,’ he smirked.
Nick had his faults, too many to list, but he was exceptionally good looking. Last night, he wore his chestnut hair slicked back. His deep tan made his blue eyes pop.
‘Sorry,’ Kya said flatly. ‘I don’t.’
‘She should be more careful,’ he said. ‘Angelo’s star is on the rise. He could have been useful for future collaborations. In this business, you can’t afford to toss people aside. He has a production deal. Did you know that?’
What did Nick actually know about this business? Was he an underground producer or something? And who cared what deals Angelo had? ‘Quinn doesn’t have to take bullshit from anyone to secure a deal,’ she said.
Nick’s eyes flashed as if she’d unwittingly confirmed something. Kya was grateful the brunette dragged him off.
When she ran into him a second time, his date was gone, but Quinn was by Kya’s side. Nick jumped straight into it, doling out his unsolicited advice. His tone very different from earlier. He was trying for sincere but coming off as a creep. Quinn was having none of it. Kya caught the exact moment a spark ignited in her eyes. She was about to go off on this man, right here, in front of everyone. Someone would likely record it, and that clip would make the rounds just in time for Solstice. Nick wasn’t worth it.
She’d placed her hand on the small of Quinn’s back and steered her towards the exit. It had been a long night, and their ride was waiting. It was time to go home. Kya sighed heavily. That had been the last time she’d felt connected to Quinn. After that, she’d folded within herself. Back at her building, she’d made their disconnection official by declaring, in the elevator, there would be no post-performance ritual. This translated simply into: ‘Please leave me alone.’ Kya was happy to do it. She understood the concept of giving someone space. She would be the first to ask for it whenever confronted with a deadline or burdened by work. She would have offered it freely, but Quinn had wanted more than space. She’d wanted Kya gone.
She wandered around the neighbourhood before finally sliding into a booth at the coffee shop. Writing in a public space required, at the minimum, a laptop, as to appear legit. Kya was locked out of the one computer she’d travelled with, which left her with only her phone. Annoyed, she called the most cheerful person she knew.
‘Hey, Hugo!’
‘Sweetie!’ he answered. ‘Glad you called, but do me a favour: don’t tell your brother. He gets so jealous!’
‘What is up with that?’ Kya asked, bewildered. ‘The other day he called me super early just to say hi, and it was all because we ran into each other at happy hour.’
‘I don’t think he understands that you and I have our own thing,’ Hugo said.
‘After all this time?’ Kya said. ‘Nothing can come between us.’
Hugo’s laughter was high-pitched and musical. ‘One day he’ll figure it out.’
Kya cracked a smile for the first time that day.
‘I was going to call you, regardless,’ Hugo said. ‘I’ve got a bone to pick with you, as they say.’
‘Wait. We’re at the bone-picking stage of an issue?’ she asked. How did she not know this?
‘You and Quinn.’
That was all he said, and it was more than enough. Kya’s hand trembled as she stirred sugar into her cappuccino. ‘What about us?’
‘You tell me.’
‘There’s nothing to tell.’
‘I can’t believe I didn’t see what was in front of my very eyes,’ he continued.
‘See what?’
‘Don’t you dare play that game with me!’
There was no use playing any game with Hugo. He would beat her, fair and square. But she wasn’t about to give her cards away. He would have to produce receipts.
‘Could you be more specific?’ she said.
‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I was texting with Sam—’
‘Your old friend Sam? The one who’s visiting soon?’
‘You know exactly which Sam.’
‘Just checking!’
‘She said, casually, that she hoped to meet you and your girlfriend during her trip.’
That was weak sauce, as far as Kya was concerned. ‘Just because your friend said a thing, doesn’t make it so.’
‘I told her you two were just friends. She was like, “No, mate, they’re definitely more than that.”’
‘Is that all you’ve got, mate ?’ Kya asked. ‘Quinn and I are friends. We hang out. We have fun. This is not news to you.’
‘Sam follows your TikTok.’
‘It’s a bunch of BTS stuff. You know that.’
‘I keep up, but I don’t have time to scroll through comments. Sam is a blogger and gets off on all that. She says the girlies are gushing over you and Quinn and what a cute couple you make. They’ve posted BTS of their own.’
Were the girlies gushing? Kya hadn’t checked. ‘Okay, so … maybe we’re more than just friends.’
‘You sneaky—’
‘Settle down, hear me out,’ Kya said. ‘Quinn and I sort of bloomed from nothing. I’m as surprised as anyone. Before you get excited, please remember I’m leaving as soon as Music Week is over. Nothing will come of this.’
‘Not if you’ve already decided that it won’t,’ he said.
Kya was sorry, but no amount of positive thinking was going to solve this dilemma. She and Quinn lived parallel lives, on opposite coasts. Quinn lived by night. Kya wasn’t necessarily a morning girl, but her nightlife was within the safe confines of her apartment. Today had made it all the clearer. The first bump in the road had exposed their cracks.
‘Anyway, I agree with the girls,’ Hugo said. ‘You make a cute couple. It doesn’t have to last. Not every story ends the way we’d like, but it can still end well.’
When he wasn’t clowning around, this man had an astonishing degree of emotional intelligence. Her brother was lucky to have him.
‘I can’t believe I didn’t see it! It was so obvious!’ he exclaimed.
‘Right? You’re sharper than this!’
‘No wonder you fell apart because she was a little mad at you, and crashed a party just to say you’re sorry when you could’ve texted.’
‘I did not fall apart, and Quinn was more than a little mad. A text message wasn’t going to cut it.’
‘Apparently it worked,’ he said. ‘Come to think of it, I deserve the credit for putting you two together.’
‘Probably best you don’t think about it.’
‘For now,’ he said. ‘I’m telling your brother tonight!’
Great. She could expect another wake-up call.
‘All right, irm?zinha . I’ve got a client call in five minutes. Gotta run.’
‘Cool. I’ve got some writing to do. Have a good day.’
‘Love you!’ Hugo said before hanging up.
Kya felt a pinch to the heart. She considered spending the night at her brother’s place so Quinn could work uninterrupted. She would pick up dinner first. No matter what Quinn had said, she had to eat.
Kya spent the rest of the day working on the BioFlow series. She researched the company and drafted the next two posts to round up the series. When she was done, she killed time scrolling social media and could confirm the girlies were indeed gushing. #K she was simply the ‘new girlfriend’. And there she was, in the attached photo, at Quinn’s hip. They had just arrived at LAB. Trevor was expertly pointing out all the bells and whistles that made the club come alive once they opened its doors. Quinn had draped her arm around Kya’s waist. They were staring up in awe at the mirrored dome ceiling. Whoever was taking these pictures truly had talent and was wasting it trolling them. They could’ve easily earned money as a portrait photographer, taking engagement photos and the like.
Though biased, Kya was convinced Quinn had done an amazing job at LAB. She’d read the room accurately. The night had just begun; most people weren’t as drunk or loose as they were when Angelo took the stage. He’d been handed the better slot by the luck of the draw or, more likely, the power of the patriarchy. Whatever the case may be, Quinn had nothing to be ashamed of. Kya wasn’t the only one who thought so. The comments from the people who’d actually been at the club were strongly in Quinn’s favour.
I don’t know what you’re on, man, but Quinn slapped.
Quinn served. Period.
Angelo was all right, but Quinn is the Queen. Don’t mess with her.
What fresh hell of sexism is this?
Kya shut the app in disgust. Quinn would see this, Kya thought. Ivy would send it to her. She might’ve quit PR, but doom-scrolling was her favourite pastime. Quinn was already so upset; she didn’t need this.
‘Who is this fucker?’
She’d mumbled the words, but the waiter who’d come to clear the table had caught it and gave her a quizzical look. ‘Excuse me?’ he said.
‘Sorry!’ Kya held up her phone. ‘I’m dealing with a troll.’
‘Good for you,’ he said. ‘Don’t let them get away with it, the cowards.’
‘Thanks.’
That was just the boost Kya needed. She would expose this man for the coward he was, hiding behind an anonymous account to tear people down. Kya ordered yet another coffee and began combing through his profile, his friends’ profiles, and anyone who commented too frequently. She then cross-referenced those profiles on TikTok, Instagram, and good old-fashioned Facebook. It was a tedious task and by the time she looked up, the afternoon was gone. Her neck was stiff. Her eyes stung. She wanted nothing more than to go home.
She ordered dinner from one of Adrian and Hugo’s favourite restaurants then walked to the building and waited in the lobby for the delivery. She rode the elevator with a couple locked in a kiss, which made her feel even lonelier. Quinn was still in her studio when Kya let herself in. She set the food on the counter and cleared the table. She found a plain white candle deep in one of the kitchen drawers and lit it. Frowning, she took in the set-up. She should’ve bought flowers. When Quinn came stumbling out of the studio a moment later, flowers were the last thing on her mind. Her brown eyes mirrored Kya’s own deep longing.
Nothing mattered. She was back in Quinn’s world.
It wasn’t until Quinn fell asleep later that night that Kya resumed her search. She slipped out of bed and locked herself in the bathroom with her phone and the last of the bottle of wine. Where had she left off? Oh, right. Facebook, cross-referencing Night Lite’s impressive group of friends. One had attended the University of Miami and proudly displayed her class reunion photos in an album made available to the public, which wasn’t very smart. Kya skimmed the comments of each photo, until she spotted the same stupid thumbnail that Night Lite used on Reddit, an oversaturated photo of the Miami skyline. The comment: Good times. ?
The reply: Always a good time with you!
Kya studied the photo, a group of ten young men and women in their best business casual outfits, champagne flutes in hand, smiling broadly. The second to the left had dark hair, a deep tan, and blue eyes that popped. I knew it!
Kya smacked the phone down and took a swig from the wine bottle. God, she loved being right!