The Kaleidoscope Album Box Set

by Bryce Oakley

  "Where's Isla?" Sabrina asked, looking over her shoulder.

  “So, unfortunately, I couldn’t find Isla. A buddy of mine said she left with someone a little while ago,” Domino explained

  “Who’s the saucy minx now, Isla?” Sabrina said with a laugh, pushing open the door to the club. The cool evening breeze smacked her square in the face.

  “Instead, we’re going to mine,” Domino explained, giving a nod to the valet.

  Sabrina gasped, feeling scandalized.

  “Not like that,” Domino said, rolling her eyes.

  “Okay, good," she said. Wait, what if Domino thought she didn't like her? She cleared her throat. "I mean, I think you’re extremely attractive and I’ve definitely thought about kissing you, like, a lot, but I believe in boundaries,” Sabrina said, holding up a finger in the air as if it proved her point.

  Domino laughed, shaking her head. “I hope you’re at that point of being drunk where you don’t remember all of the things you are saying,” she remarked, taking the keys from the valet and helping Sabrina into the passenger seat of her sports car.

  “This car looks fast!” Sabrina announced loudly, putting on her seatbelt. The car was red... or maybe it was pink? She giggled to herself, imagining someone as cool as Domino driving a hot pink Barbie car. "You should put down the top!" She said excitedly to Domino.

  Domino climbed into the driver's side and gave her a strange look, reaching across her to buckle her seat belt. "It's not a convertible, Sab," she said, raising an eyebrow and appearing as though she might be holding back a laugh.

  "Wait, are you drunk?" Sabrina asked as Domino started the car.

  "Have you seen me drink at all tonight?" Domino asked, leaning back in the seat with her hands folded in her lap.

  Sabrina lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “What makes you think I was watching you all night?” She countered.

  Domino laughed. “Touche.”

  Sabrina shook her head after a moment, then ran her hands over her hair to smooth it down. Wow, her hair was so soft. "My hair is so soft," she said, leaning her head back against the seat and closing her eyes. "I use a special deep conditioner, did you know?"

  Domino patted Sabrina's knee and pulled out from in front of the club. "I believe you," she said. "Now, close your eyes and rest a little."

  Before Sabrina knew it, they were pulling into Domino’s driveway. Had she fallen asleep? "Did you hypnotize me?" She asked, her eyes wide. "I fell asleep like the second you said I should."

  Domino silently laughed, watching her. "Yes, Sabrina, I hypnotized you. Now, I command that you take off your heels –– oh, wait, I see you've already kicked those off –– is this one in the back seat? Okay, you're going to carry your shoes, and walk with me into the house. Then, you're going to sit down and drink an entire glass of water and take a few pain meds. Then, you're going to sleep on the couch."

  Sabrina nodded, concentrating intensely. "Heels off, water dranken, sleep. Got it. Go team," she said, reaching out for a high-five that smacked Domino in the shoulder. "Yeah, team.” She climbed out of the car, holding one of her shoes.

  The plan went fairly well, in Sabrina's opinion. She did take a detour to try to sleep in the grass, but before she knew it, she was sitting on the couch, drinking a glass of water and taking two pills.

  Domino walked back downstairs with a pair of pajamas. "I don't think you're going to want to sleep in that dress," she said, handing Sabrina a pair of shorts and a t-shirt.

  "It is a very tiny dress," Sabrina said, motioning down to it.

  Domino nodded. "Yep, I... noticed," she said, looking up towards the ceiling.

  Sabrina moved her hair over her shoulder. "Will you help me with the top of the zipper?" She angled her back towards Domino.

  Domino sighed. She gently undid the hook and eye, then slid down the zipper.

  “You have scrapes all over your back,” Domino said, her fingers gently touching Sabrina’s sore skin.

  “Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you get bowled over by Lance Armstrong,” Sabrina said, rolling her eyes.

  “I’m sorry. Again. Truly,” Domino said.

  Sabrina giggled.

  "What's so funny?" Domino asked.

  Sabrina turned, holding up the front of her dress. "This is the part of the movie where you pull an irresistible move like that and then we stare passionately into one another's eyes while soft music plays in the background, and then we... you know... do it," she explained, squinting as though it was obvious. Hadn't Domino ever seen a movie before?

  Domino blinked, watching her. Then, slowly, she leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on Sabrina's bare shoulder. Sabrina froze, completely mesmerized by the simple, yet remarkably sexy gesture.

  Domino stayed close to her, so close that Sabrina could hear her breathing. "When –– if –– we ever do have the pleasure of fulfilling that fantasy, I promise that you'll want to remember it," Domino said, her voice barely a whisper, warming the soft and vulnerable skin of Sabrina's neck.

  She closed her eyes, savoring the feeling.

  "Now, goodnight, Miss Meloy. I've refilled your glass, so get changed, and then the blankets are right here," Domino said, and Sabrina opened her eyes to see Domino patting a few blankets at the end of the couch.

  "Goodnight, Dom," she said, watching quite possibly the sexiest woman alive walk out of the room and up the stairs.

  * * *

  Sabrina awoke in a very bright room, swaddled like a burrito. She opened her eyes, struggling with the blanket. It took her a moment to realize that she was wearing a t-shirt, but had only bothered putting her head and one of her arms through the correct holes. Her other arm was pinned to her side inside of the shirt. She had a tight dress on, but it was hiked up to her hips, and beneath that was a pair of soccer shorts.

  Wait... what?

  She sat up, pulling her arm the rest of the way through the t-shirt.

  She was in a strange living room, on a couch. One of her heels hung from a lamp next to her.

  Shockingly, her head wasn't pounding –– it was a feeling much more akin to being in a medium-tight vice, perhaps –– but her mouth was dry.

  On the coffee table in front of her was a cup of black coffee and a note. "Went surfing, your phone is charged in the dining room."

  She looked around the room again. Wait, she knew that room. She was in Domino's house.

  She stared back down at the note. Her phone?

  What the heck had happened the night before?

  She remembered getting to the club, seeing Domino, talking to Domino, dancing with Isla, drinking a couple of drinks...

  Oh no.

  It came back to her in flashes. Lying on a couch, sitting in Domino's car...

  Wait, had they... she had a vague memory of a kiss...

  She wasn't exactly sure what she had said or did, but she felt deeply embarrassed about it all the same.

  Domino had given her coffee, left the house, and had given Sabrina a way to get out before she returned.

  Was she avoiding her?

  They were supposed to start working on the house the very next day...

  She reached back to unzip her dress the rest of the way so that she could shimmy out of it, and a memory materialized as though a fog had cleared –– she had propositioned Domino!

  Son of a biscuit, she had really messed up. She hurried into the dining room and grabbed her phone. She opened the rideshare app and typed in her address. Her stomach gurgled and a wave of nausea came over her. After a quick detour to the guest bathroom to throw up and wash out her mouth with toothpaste she found in one of the drawers –– Domino was a consummate host, and Sabrina needn't have to wonder why –– she pressed the button for a car.

  When it arrived, she climbed inside the car –– barefoot, holding one heel, a party dress, with makeup smeared on her face.

  "Someone had a good night," the older woman driving the car joked.

  Sabrina groaned, c
losing her eyes, willing herself not to throw up in a stranger's car. That would be the icing on the cake. "Something like that," she mumbled.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Domino

  Sabrina was three minutes late. She didn't strike Domino as the type to be three minutes late. She seemed much more like the type to arrive five minutes early, thinking that because it wasn't fifteen minutes early, it was still late.

  Domino sat on the patio, staring in the direction of the ocean. She didn't have a direct view –– The Shrikes had done well for themselves by negotiating solid contracts for their albums and appearances, but she wasn't even in the top 20% of wealthiest residents of Hermosa Beach. If she squinted, she could see the blue line beyond the roofs between her and the shore.

  She had even attempted to clean up the house a little bit in preparation for Sabrina's visit. She had folded all of the laundry on the dining table the afternoon before, despite the deep longing to leave it forever. Didn't some people just throw away items of clothing after they'd worn them? The luxury of it.

  If she didn't care about the earth or money at all, that'd definitely be a lifestyle she could adopt.

  That weekend had been... eventful...

  Julia had convinced her to go out to the new gay club that had just opened in WeHo. Typically, Domino ensured that she'd get paid for club appearances, but she knew one of the owner's, so she thought nothing of it.

  She knew there'd be trouble the moment she was Sabrina in line wearing that skin-tight, tiny dress.

  Something shifted inside of her, as though she only wanted to be near Sabrina, like a moth to a flame. She felt that way about any conquest, but with Sabrina, it felt different. She felt jealous seeing Sabrina with that tall, gorgeous woman, and kept an eye on the pair through the entire night. Reading the pair as platonic, she went to make a move, but then she saw how drunk Sabrina truly was.

  Sabrina had always stuck her as the type to keep it together. Why had she been so messy at the bar, then?

  Something else shifted inside Domino –– a need to protect Sabrina. The lesbian scene in LA could be downright wolfish. She didn't want anything to happen to Sabrina, and the more vulnerable she realized the woman was, the more she wanted to just fireman-carry her out of danger.

  Ugh, like some kind of caveman.

  Domino was never the responsible one. She had channeled Billie all evening, especially when Sabrina had very sloppily tried to make a move on her. Normally, Domino didn't think twice about sleeping with women when they were a little tipsy, but Sabrina was so far beyond consent...

  She grimaced, remembering how she had kissed Sabrina's shoulder. Had she crossed the line? Had Sabrina even remembered that?

  The doorbell rang, sending a jolt of surprise through her body. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. When was the last time she had been so nervous?

  She crossed the great room and opened the front door. Sabrina looked incredibly put together in a navy blue blazer, with matching wide leg trousers and a crisp cotton blouse beneath.

  "Good morning, Domino," she said, as though she hadn't spent the night snoring on Domino's couch less than 36 hours before.

  "Good morning, Sabrina," Domino said, taking a step backwards.

  "I thought today I'd take some measurements and come up with a plan for your home," Sabrina said, stepping into the house past her. Her block heels made a satisfying click on the hardwood.

  "Sure," Domino said, forcing a casual air.

  "I do just want to say one thing," Sabrina said, clearing her throat. "I don't remember a single thing from Saturday night, so I'd rather we just put that completely behind us and pretend as if it didn't happen."

  Domino blinked, leaning against the entry archway. "No problem," she said. "Consider it completely forgotten." The lie felt hollow and metallic in her mouth. She didn't believe that Sabrina didn't remember a single second of it, considering her stiff posture and forced-professional air.

  "Thank you. And thank you for these," Sabrina said, handing her a canvas bag of the pajamas she had lent her the other night, but also the sweatpants she had borrowed after her other dress was ruined.

  "Oh, yeah," Domino said awkwardly, taking the bag. "No worries. I think your shoe is still in my car, though." She couldn't help herself.

  Sabrina's eye twitched, but she didn't say anything more. She simply nodded, then turned on her heel. She set her bag down on the dining table and pulled out a notepad and measuring tape.

  "Don't mind me. You just do whatever you need to do," Sabrina said. She held a silver pen that had a giant fake diamond on the end. Who was this woman?

  Domino shoved her hands in her pockets, feeling very much in the way.

  She glanced around the room, her eyes settling on the acoustic guitar that she had written most of The Shrikes' first album, Heart's Content with. She reached for it, the weight and feel of it a comforting presence.

  Domino retreated upstairs with her guitar, wanting to be out of Sabrina's way. She sat down on the bench at the end of her bed, hearing the sounds of cupboards being opened and closed downstairs, along with Sabrina's heels tapping across the floor.

  "I hear your echoes in the hall." The line popped into her head, along with the eight beats of melody to accompany it.

  She grabbed her phone out of her pocket to make a quick voice recording of it, the guitar melody wrapping around the words in her head. Adrenaline rose within her chest. She hadn't written in so long, she had almost forgotten the rush of a new song taking over her thoughts.

  They always came to her that way –– sudden, bits of line that she then braided into a melody with the music beneath it. She longed for her keyboard, but it was downstairs and there was no way she was risking the song escaping her as she went for it.

  She took her voice recorder and clumsily sang the notes of the keyboard part.

  As the song grew, she longed for Billie to be sitting beside her, adding and weaving her own bits into the song.

  But Billie was off in Telluride with her girlfriend, Vero, finishing up the recording of Vero's album.

  At the thought, the energy of the song melted away. She was close to finishing a first draft of it, but now when she played the recordings back, the ideas to build off of those recordings were gone.

  Nevertheless, she had about a half hour of writing, which was a win for the moment, considering it was more than the past six months combined.

  She lay back in the bed, closing her eyes, willing the magic to come back to her.

  A gentle tapping sound broke into her thoughts. "Domino?" Sabrina's soft voice came through the closed bedroom door.

  "Come on in, you're not interrupting," she called out, propping herself up on her elbows. She felt groggy, as if she had just woken up.

  The door opened and Sabrina stood at the doorway, her notebook in hand. "Mind if I look in your closet and bathroom?" She asked. "It's the last part."

  "Sure," Domino said, rubbing her eyes.

  Sabrina walked past her and stood at the bathroom entrance, taking pictures on her phone of the room. She scribbled in her notebook and from that angle, Domino could see that she was also sketching ideas as she walked through the small room, kneeling and looking in cabinets.

  "Do you have some kind of system for all this chaos?" Sabrina asked, kneeling down in front of the cabinet that held all of her hair products.

  "Sure do," Domino lied.

  "For someone with short hair, you have such a hilarious amount of product," Sabrina said, and Domino could see her rifling through the wax, clay, spray, and other assorted things that made her hair look messy on purpose.

  "I use every single one," Domino lied again.

  "Sure, you do," Sabrina said, snorting. She closed the cupboard door and stood, walking out of the room and into Domino's walk-in closet.

  "Leapin' lizards, I've never seen anything like this," Sabrina called out from the closet.

  Domino grinned at the curse. "I'm one
of a kind," she teased.

  "You have like fifty pairs of the black jeans," Sabrina said, her voice muffled.

  Domino stood, walking to the closet door. "You never know," she said, crossing her arms.

  "You never know? What are you preparing for –– the end of black denim dye?" Sabrina said, shaking her head with a smirk.

  "Well, they're different washes," Domino said with a dramatic exhale. "And different levels of distress. Some are to be dressed up, and some are casual."

  Sabrina held up two pairs of identical black jeans.

  "Okay, those fit me so well, I bought two, because I thought I'd wear them out too quickly," Domino explained.

  Sabrina scooped up an entire pile of black denim, then walked past Domino and threw them onto the bed. She returned to the closet, taking another pile of black jeans and repeated the process.

  "Okay, you're going to look through these jeans and choose ten to keep. We're donating the rest," Sabrina said, a hand on her hip.

  "This isn't a measurement," Domino said, her eyebrows raised.

  "Yeah, this is an intervention," Sabrina said, pointing to the pile. "Ten."

  "Twenty," Domino bargained.

  "Ten," Sabrina said, enunciating the word firmly.

  "Fifteen," Domino said, looking down at the pile of black jeans. Many were gifts or photo shoot presents, but she had bought a few of them for specific concerts and shows. They all held so many memories.

  "Twelve, final offer, or we're throwing them all out," Sabrina said.

  Domino scowled. "You're very mean," she grumbled, rifling through the jeans. She narrowed it down to thirty, then took a step back. "That's all I can do."

  Sabrina narrowed her eyes. "Listen. This isn't just about making sure your sock drawer is organized by rainbows. This is a process to give you the tools to be organized forever. And having fifty pairs of the same pair of pants isn't organization. That's called hoarding."

  "No," Domino said firmly. "You said you'd organize. These are my things." She swept an arm over the pile of clothes. "If I want thirty pairs of the same pants, that's something that I can do." She resisted the urge to leap into the pile and close her arms around them protectively, but only barely.