Chapter Thirty-Two
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
HAPPY HOUR
Depending on who you asked, happy hour took on a different meaning. For some, the appeal was the specials: ten-dollar cocktails, two-dollar oysters, five shots for five dollars. For others, it scratched the itch for escapism and play after a long day’s work. For Kya, specifically, the appeal was the girl who’d brought her to the rooftop venue that soared forty-eight floors over the city centre. There were no water views to speak of, only a jungle of buildings of various heights and the string of street traffic below. At sunset, the headlights and streetlamps flared and the city glowed.
Kya ran into Hugo in the unisex bathroom. They caught up on family matters as they touched up their make-up.
‘I heard Quinn killed it at BLU,’ he said. ‘Wish I could’ve been there. Your brother and I had plans.’
‘Keep this to yourself, but you may get a chance to catch her again before summer ends. They’ve reached out with an offer.’
Hugo let out a low whistle. ‘Quinn is in her bag!’
‘Looks like it.’
‘How about you, minha irm? ?’ Hugo asked. ‘Are you doing, okay?’
‘I’m getting back into blogging.’
‘As you should,’ he said. ‘Don’t let anyone bully you out of anything, not even me.’
Kya laughed. ‘You’ll be happy to know that I’m posting BTS clips on TikTok during Music Week.’
‘That does make me happy. I’ll check out your posts.’
‘How’s Lucky?’
‘She misses her favourite aunt, naturally.’
‘I miss her, too!’
‘She’ll get new houseguests to spoil her soon. Sam and Roman arrive tomorrow.’
Kya capped her tube of lip gloss. ‘Already?’
‘They had to shuffle some things around. They’ll only be in Miami for the weekend.’
‘Do you think they’ll make it to Solstice?’
‘Doubt it. We’re taking them out to brunch on Sunday. You and Quinn should join us if you are not too exhausted from the concert.’
‘I can’t speak for Quinn, but I’ll try to make it,’ Kya said.
‘Perfect,’ he said. ‘We look gorgeous, let’s get out there.’
As soon as she got out there, Amanda caught up with her and dragged her away. ‘Tonight, we cut loose!’ she declared.
‘Is that right?’ Kya said.
‘Oh, yes,’ she said. ‘Quinn’s set doesn’t start until eight. That gives us exactly seventeen minutes. Tequila shots?’
‘Lady, that’s probably a bad idea.’
‘All my good ideas are bad at the core,’ Amanda said. ‘Somehow it works out.’
‘In that case, the first round is on me.’
The bartender lined up the glasses. Kya brought a wedge of lime to her lips. It had been a long day, month, year. Tonight, she would learn what it meant to cut loose. As it turned out, it meant cheering your girl so loudly you went hoarse within an hour. It meant climbing on a bench to get a better view, only a glass partition saving you from plummeting forty-eight floors to certain death. It meant making fast friends with a group of women you’d never meet again under any circumstances, and trying jalape?o poppers that set your gut on fire while the music pulsed through you. Finally, the DJ shouts you out and the whole world is magic.
Quinn wrapped up her set and, as planned, they met by the elevators. Kya arrived first. She came around eventually, light on her feet, as if walking on air. ‘Hey you! Waiting for me?’
‘Who else?’
‘Any number of people,’ Quinn teased. ‘I saw you tonight, party girl. You were having a blast.’
‘You noticed? I’m shocked.’
‘Oh, I had my eyes on you.’
‘I’m flattered. You weren’t too busy on stage being worshipped?’
‘Not at all.’
They agreed to keep the party going. In the back seat of the car taking her and Quinn to Location B, a popular spot, Kya pulled her onto her lap and kissed her bare shoulder. She wanted a chance to worship her privately, without a frenzied audience. Quinn kissed her hungrily until every square inch of Kya’s body sparked with want. When they arrived at the bar, Kya was breathless.
Cutting loose meant helping your date climb out of the car, in a miniskirt that showed off her long, glossy legs. It meant ducking into the dark space and straight onto the dance floor where they joined the others. They danced freely. Quinn’s hands were on her body, slowing her down, even as the music picked up. That’s when Kya knew it was time to go.
An hour later they were home at last, not on the balcony or in the bedroom, but in Quinn’s generous closet. Kya struggled with the zip of Quinn’s bustier. Getting her in and out of her stage clothes was always an ordeal, but so worth it. When Quinn finally broke free from the latex trap, she sank onto the carpeted floor. ‘I can breathe!’ she cried.
Kya kneeled onto the floor next to her. ‘Hi,’ she said. ‘I’m Kya. I’ll be your DJ tonight.’
Quinn bit back a smile. ‘Is that right? I love that for me!’
‘I only play eighties pop.’
She stretched out on her back and covered her eyes with her arm. ‘I spoke too soon.’
‘Nineties power anthems.’
‘God no!’
‘And every boy band hit of the aughts.’
‘Look,’ she said. ‘If you want to end this, just say so.’
‘I don’t want this ever to end.’
Her words ushered a ghostly silence that spread from the closet throughout the apartment. Kya could die. What was going on in her head? Was she just spewing out words without forethought or logic? From calling Quinn her girlfriend earlier today and professing undying devotion now, something was seriously wrong. Whatever the glitch, she had to get it fixed.
You can’t do this , she told herself. Whatever ‘this’ was, she couldn’t do it. It had to stop.
Quinn extended her arms. ‘Come to me.’
To hide her turmoil, Kya buried her face in the softness of her breasts and breathed in Quinn’s scent. Once the feeling had passed, she sank her teeth into the tender flesh, hoping to leave a mark that would outlast the night.