six Selena
six
Selena
Groaning, I roll over in bed as my alarm wails.
Golden sunlight filters in through the window, and for once, I hate the sunshine.
I was up way too late last night, following social media accounts as I stalked Shadows.
At some point, I quit taking notes, and my own intrigue took over.
Countless people commenting and spreading rumors caught my attention.
It was so wild, each post held a different story and theory, and they grew more scandalous and absurd as I read through them.
It was well into the early morning hours when I finally passed out in bed.
Grabbing my phone, I rub my blurry eyes as I open up my social media. The message I sent to Shadows shows as read, but there has been no response.
“Well, shit,” I mutter to myself.
I toss my phone onto my hunter green bedspread and close my eyes. I considered going back to sleep, but I promised Madison that I would meet her for breakfast before we went shopping. I made Semita’s yesterday, and they are waiting for us in my kitchen.
Finally pulling myself out of bed, I take a quick shower and dress in a pair of black leggings and a white tank top.
I head to the kitchen and start a pot of coffee.
When I hear a knock at my door, I go to unlock it so Madison can come in.
Most people might be wary of just opening their door in the mornings, but Madison is my only friend, and I doubt any burglars are up this early.
And, just as I expected, Madison stands in front of me when I open the door.
“Another long night?” she asks, as she steps inside my apartment.
I nod as she follows me into the kitchen. Madison makes herself at home, getting the coffee creamer out of the refrigerator and grabbing us two cups.
I grab the platter of Semita’s and place it on the kitchen table.
“Tell me about this treat,” Madison asks, licking her lips as her eyes devour the pastries.
“These are sweet brioche-style bread with layers of dough and topped with a sugary cookie-like crust,” I begin explaining, as I pick up one. The white powdered sugar flakes off onto the platter. I grab the cup of coffee Madison made and dip my pastry in it. “My mom likes to dip hers in coffee.”
I take a bite and moan. When I was a little girl, my abuela and mom would teach me on Saturday mornings how to cook their favorite Hondurian meals.
Even though I grew up in the United States, they never wanted me to lose the Honduran culture.
Now, as an adult, I love being able to share some of those dishes with Madison.
Madison grabs a pastry and dips it into the coffee. When she takes a bite, she closes her eyes and does a little dance in her seat. “Damn, girl. This is amazing!”
I laugh as I take another bite of mine. We sit and chat while we eat, and once we are both stuffed, we gather our purses so we can hit some of the boutiques in downtown Sunnyvale.
I have a few dresses and nice heels, but something inside of me is screaming that I need to find a special outfit for tonight. Plus, I need a mask.
After Madison and I leave, we take her car into town.
We find a parking garage and then make our way down Main Street in Sunnyvale.
I know all small towns think they are unique, but Sunnyvale truly is.
Our Main Street only houses local businesses.
There aren’t any chain restaurants or stores for miles.
We have the Sweet Shop bakery, the Electric Night Club, Turn The Page Bookstore (which Madison owns), and a few upscale clothing shops.
The sun is shining brightly in the sky, and you can faintly hear the waves from the beach just down the block. It is the perfect place to live.
“So, what are you imagining yourself wearing?” Madison asks as we step inside the first boutique.
It’s a small shop with a cool vintage vibe. “I’m not sure,” I admit. “I want something sexy and dark, but I have no idea what that looks like,” I giggle.
I found a section with hats and heads that way. A saleswoman walks over to us and smiles. “Can I help you, ladies?”
“My friend here is looking for a dark and sexy outfit to wear to…”
Before she can finish, I cut her off. “A masquerade party.”
The lady gives us an awkward smile. “Oh, that sounds fun. We have a few masks over here,” she tells us, pointing to a table with a few stands filled with glamorous-looking masks. Some are simple and elegant, while others are very detailed and colorful.
“These are beautiful,” Madison says, picking up a gold mask with teal peacock feathers sticking off the side.
“It is very pretty, but I don’t want anything that will draw too much attention to myself. I want to blend in,” I tell her.
“Why? You are going to a sex kink club. There will be some really hot guys there. Don’t you want to meet someone?” Madison asks, her voice low so the sales lady won’t hear us.
I picked up a sat red mask and let the cool material slip through my fingers. “This isn’t about meeting anyone or hooking up. This is for a story,” I argue.
I put the mask up to my face and then turn to look at the mirror on the wall. The mask is simple, yet elegant. I like it.
“Don’t you want to see what Shadow’s is really about?” Madison asks. She tries on a hot pink mask.
“I mean, yes, I want to explore the club, but for the purpose of breaking a story.” Even as I say the words, I hear the doubt in my voice.
Of course, I need the story. I crave the story for my career, but there’s also something deep inside of me that yearns to learn about Shadows for another reason altogether.
Ever since I started researching Shadows, I’ve found myself getting aroused when I hear the stories about the devious hookups, the kinks being explored, and the three men who watch down on everyone like dark angels.
Everything about Shadows feels provocative and unreal, and I need to get a taste of it for myself. And that thought terrifies me.
I need to keep my focus on the story, not exploring some strange sex kink fetish I never knew I had.
“I think you just need to enjoy yourself. I’m still mad that you didn’t get me a ticket, too,” Madison says, playfully jabbing me in the arm. She turns, looks at me, and smiles. “That mask looks great on you.”
“I like it.”
We head to the register and pay. We head to a dress store across the street that has some beautiful gowns in the window display.
Inside, we are greeted with a floral scent and light pastel colors.
Dresses line the walls, and Madison and I start searching immediately.
This is a store that I’ve only been in a few times.
I’ve always wanted to buy something here, but I never had a reason to buy such an extravagant dress.
Madison holds up a navy blue dress with a long slit up the side.
It’s pretty, but not what I’m looking for.
A sales associate greets us, and I show her the mask I purchased.
I need something that complements the red and satin look of the mask.
The woman takes us to a rack of dresses near the back, and instantly, I know I’m going to find what I want here.
First, I spot a gold satin dress with a low neckline.
Madison grabs a short, sparkly black dress.
We keep looking and pile our arms full of dresses.
We head to the dressing room, and I begin trying on each outfit.
I try on the gold dress first, and Madison and I both agree that it’s not the right fit.
The black one is next, and while it is cute, it feels more like a party dress and not something I would wear to a secret club.
After a few more dresses, I start to feel as though I may not find what I want. I slip on a black sleeveless lace dress that molds to my body. As I step out of the dressing room, I hear Madison gasp.
“Wow, you look incredible,” she praises me.
I look at the full-length mirror and take in my appearance. Madison hands me the mask, and together, it all feels right. The dress fits me like a glove and hugs my curves nicely. It goes to my calf and has a slit up the back. It’s sexy, mysterious, and dark.
“This is the dress,” I say proudly.
I purchase the dress, and then Madison and I head home. Pleased to have found what I needed, I went to my apartment and spent the rest of the afternoon getting ready, hoping that tonight would be the first step toward building my new career and exploring a new side of myself.