Chapter 33 #3
Dorian smirks. “May the worst man win.” He then grabs a chair, sits, and immediately launches into the poor person across from him.
“Hello. Dorian. Thirty-six, switch, and I have a lot of opinions of Ari Aster’s work.
If you give me sixty seconds, I will break down the symbolism in Midsommar in a way that will make your head spin—”
If you ask me, their strange bet seems unfairly tilted in his favor.
“Good luck,” I tell Dove, and she rolls her eyes.
Dove takes her seat and…me? I glance at Phantom. He’s not playing. He can’t. He’s moderating. He is, really, the only one I want to play twenty-questions with.
I could ask him things like: where do you see yourself in five years, and is it still with me?
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Trinity lower herself into a seat. She’s sitting in the dominant chair.
Which means if I take a submissive seat, I might get the opportunity to have a one-on-one with her.
I decide to join the game. I sit facing the bookshelf. Immediately, Carver takes the seat across from me.
“Hey, beautiful,” he smiles one of his charming, Carver smiles.
I smile back. There’s a small, glass jar between us filled with strips of curled paper. I pluck one out, unfurl it, and read the question. “What’s your relationship with your mother like?”
Carver’s face falls. “She’s an angel,” he says. “A goddamn saint.” His voice has gone mad, like I’ve accused him of something. He frowns. “Ask me a fun one.”
I prop my head in my hand and improvise. “Where’s the strangest place you’ve had sex?”
He grins. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
I’ve known Carver for years. We have an easy repertoire, and I find myself actually having fun quizzing him and getting quizzed back. Three minutes flies by and we trade yes hearts before he gets up and the next person takes the seat across from me.
I try to engage in the game, but…I can’t stop watching Trinity.
She’s currently a few tables away from me. I watch as she and Dorian pair up.
“I won’t have to pay for this session, will I?” Dorian asks as soon as she sits down.
They’re not there two seconds before they both trade No hearts.
I study Trinity. She looks nothing like me. I haven’t yet decided if that’s a good or bad thing. On one hand, maybe it means Phantom just doesn’t have a type. On the other hand, what if he does have a type, and she’s his type? What if I’m not?
Insecurities I never had before are breeding like fungus inside of me, just from existing in her orbit. I don’t like this version of myself. This nitpicking, judging version of me.
“Oh,” Princess says, “never mind. This is a…weird one.”
Princess is at the table beside me. I try not to eavesdrop, but it’s hard when the tables are pushed pretty close together.
“I love weird,” Carver says across from her. “Try me.”
She tucks a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “Would you…um. Have sex with a virgin?”
“No,” Carver replies instantly. “And I’d fuck like, anyone, right? If they’re into it, I’m into it. Whatever. But a virgin? Nah. Too clingy. Too much like…fanfare around the whole thing. You know?”
“Yeah,” Princess says. “Totally. I mean…I agree…”
But her hands are shaking as she crumbles the slip of paper.
Oh, hell no. I can’t help myself. I butt in. “Hey, Carver,” I snap. “Maybe slow down before you speak, yeah?”
“What?” he says. He looks at me, then Princess, and then at me again. Still confused. “What’d I do?”
Ugh. Men. All of them…idiots.
The bell rings. My partner—a blue-haired human across from me—clears their throat.
“Here,” they say. They hand over a black No heart. They offer it with a smile. “It’s not personal. You just don’t really seem into this.”
Now, it’s my turn to look ashamed. Shit. They’re right. I’m not into this, and it’s showing.
As everyone switches seats, the paper slip falls off of Princess’s table and rolls against my foot. I bend down to pick it up.
The slip reads: What’s one of your hard limits?
So, not a question about virgins.
I glance at Princess. She’s got her head down, and she’s shuffling her paper hearts in her lap, trying to busy her hands.
My heart hurts. Oh, Princess…
I don’t get to linger on the feeling, though. Because just then, someone else sits at my table.
No, not someone. Trinity.
She has the smile of a beauty pageant contestant. Practiced. Researched. Measured. “Hello,” she says as she sits down.
“Hi.”
Before we can get any further, the bell rings.
“Let’s take ten,” Phantom says. “Eat. Drink. Be merry.”
His gaze flashes to me. The look in his eyes tells me everything I need to know. This “break” isn’t an accident. He saw me and Trinity together and he panicked.
What the hell is he hiding?
“To be continued,” Trinity says good-naturedly.
Everyone gets up out of their seats and mingles around. Trinity leaves her spot, leaving me in limbo. I watch as Phantom steps down, rubbing his hand over the scruff on his jaw. He looks tired.
I go to him, but Dorian and Dove pop up beside us. “Hey! Phantom!” Phantom cuts him a look, so he corrects: “Sir. Who’s winning?”
“Excuse me?”
“The matchmaking game. Who has the most yeses? Curious minds need to know.”
Phantom frowns. “There is no winner. This is about clear and direct communication. You’re not collecting submissives like baseball cards.”
“Okay, but I know you’ve been counting.”
“Again, there are no winners. But the person with the most yeses so far is Dove.”
Dove gasps. “What? Are you serious? That can’t be right…”
“Who got the most no’s so far? And is it me?”
“No, actually.” Phantom’s gaze moves to Ginger.
Ginger grins. “Oh! Well, I sort of cheated. I’m not playing, so I just tell people to give me their no’s when I sit down so they don’t feel bad about it. I just like talking to people. Everyone is so nice!”
Dorian takes off his glasses and begins to clean the lenses with his shirt. “Ginger, you and I did not have a problem…until this very moment…”
“This game is rigged,” Dove complains. “Rigged! I’m going to stuff my face with chocolate covered strawberries.”
“Enjoy your freedom while you can,” Dorian reminds her ominously.
I want to talk to Phantom, privately, but he’s already peeled away from the group. He steps in line with Zero, and the two share some kind of private, intense conversation.
Dorian chuckles beside me. I frown at him. “What are you so ticked about? It can’t be anything good.”
He returns his glasses to his face. “Dove doesn’t get the bet, and it’s making her crazy.”
“I don’t get the bet. What’s the point?”
Dorian blinks at me, as though it’s obvious. “Dove’s so-called worst traits are the best parts of her. She’s learning that the hard way tonight.”
I stare at him, long and hard. That is…oddly heart-warming. “You have a strange way of delivering affection,” I inform him.
“Thank you.”
The break seems to stretch on forever before Phantom announces it’s starting again. I’m already in my chair when Trinity returns. She smiles pleasantly when she settles back in.
My gaze flickers across the room. I can feel Phantom watching the two of us.
“So,” Trinity says, breaking the ice, “should we try one of the questions?” She reaches into the bowl in front of her and unrolls a small strip of paper. “What made you pick your scene name?”
“Actually,” I say, “I want to know about you and Phantom.”
She drops the polite niceties, which seems to be a relief for both of us.
Trinity lets out a soft sigh, refolding the question and returning it to the bowl.
“I suppose Phantom and I clicked because we’re both cut from the same cloth.
We’re both heartless bastards.” She smiles when she says it, though, showing off her pearly white teeth.
“It was a great arrangement at the time. Play, intimacy, but nothing romantic. I didn’t want that and neither did he.
I’d just gotten divorced and I was reeling.
The divorce was the right thing to do but I was still completely in pieces.
I entered the club with a gaping, bleeding wound and Phantom smelled blood.
He loves a broken bird.” Her eyes scan me, curiously. “What’s your damage?”
“Sorry?”
“He has a type, doesn’t he?” I rack my brain, looking for similarities between the two of us.
When she sees I don’t catch her drift, her mouth forms a line.
She explains: “The messier, the better. He wants someone he can fix. Mold into his perfect, obedient submissive but then keep them at a deliberate arm’s length.
” She presses her lips together and the look she gives me—it’s almost pitying.
“Phantom doesn’t know how to be in love,” she says. “He only knows how to be in control.”
“It’s different with us,” I hear myself say.
But is it?
The realization sends me off kilter. I can hear my heart pounding in my ears.
I try to focus on something else. Anything else.
I glance away from her and into the sea of Seekers.
My friends. Phantom is circling the room, no doubt trying to eavesdrop on our conversation.
Dorian sits with his latest victim. He has one of the decorative roses behind his ear.
Phantom, clearly fed up and on edge, scowls at Dorian.
“At least try to take this seriously,” he growls.
Dorian removes the rose and points it at Phantom. “I am serious,” he says, “and don’t call me Shirley.”
Phantom snatches the rose from him. “Give me that.”
Oh, no.
Give.