With a tickle in her throat, Briana tilted her head against the leather seat and stared up into the night sky. No stars, just a layer of soft, pinkish-orange clouds, ignited by blue–white spears of searchlight beams that swept over the haze in a cloverleaf pattern. Briana blinked, the afterimage of those intersecting beams flashing against a field of black. It made her feel like the luckiest girl in the world.
“Good?” Leish said.
Briana nodded, her head swimming. “Oh yeah,” she said, gazing around as she slid her fingers along the car door. “Where did you get this thing?”
“Connections. It’s all who you know out here. This, my dear, is a 1964 Lincoln Continental, limo conversion. Black on black, similar to the one Kennedy was shot in.”
Briana gazed at her in fascination. “How do you know all that?”
Leish pointed a bare foot at the back of the driver’s seat. “It’s on a silver plaque right there.”
Briana giggled. “You’re still one of the coolest people I’ve ever met.”
“Likewise,” Leish said. “I’m glad that little black dress fit you.”
Briana tugged at the hem. “It’s a little shorter than what I’m used to.”
“You got the body for it, that’s for sure.” She reached out for one of the silver buttons done up all the way to Briana’s throat. “Undo a few of those. Let the girls breathe!”
Briana swatted her hand away. “Get away!” She smoothed her hands along the top of her thighs. “It’s beautiful. I’ve never worn anything like this.”
“It’s yours.”
“No, I can’t.”
Leish squeezed her arm, leaning in close. “Please. I want you to have it.”
“Thank you,” Briana said. “Sorry about earlier. Guess my mom really got into my head with stories of cameras and predators looking to use me.”
Leish glanced away. “Yeah, there’s some real creeps out here.” She gazed back again, eyes somewhere far away. “Just stick with me, baby doll. I got you.”
Brakes squealed as the Lincoln eased to a stop in front of a multistory brick building, all the widows painted black. A line of expectant club-goers stretched down the block, curving around the corner and out of sight. A V-shaped bouncer dressed in black stood at the door, grim faced, an ear piece tucked in one ear.
People in line stirred, curious about the new arrivals in the shiny black car. Leish patted Briana’s leg.
“Watch this.”
She sat on the door’s edge then swept her legs over to the other side and stood up, whipping her hair back in a flourish. Her leather pants gleamed in the flash of lights from the several phones held up high. Catcalls and whistles broke out and she blew kisses before stripping off her shirt, revealing a lacy black bra.
The crowd roared.
With one hand on her hip, she twirled the thin fabric overhead before tossing it in a high arc toward the crowd. A girl with a shaved head leapt up and caught it, shoving a guy next to her that tried to take it away. People clapped and hooted while others shook their heads, one mouthing the words “attention whore.” Leish spun and opened the car door, extending a hand to Briana.
“My lady,” she said.
Briana took her hand and stepped onto the sidewalk as more flashes fired off. “Smile, this is the first moment of many,” Leish whispered into her ear.
Several small drones drifted down from above, propellers whining like angry bees. One stayed higher up, away from the light. It looked a bit like a dragonfly.
Leish gave Briana’s hand a tug. “C’mon.”
The two young women hustled through the door as the bouncer stepped aside, waving them in as boos from the line fell away behind them.
Bars edged with colorful neon bordered a large dance area. Bodies shifted in time to music with barely enough room to move. Scantily clad wait staff weaved through, deftly maneuvering drink trays held high overhead. Off to the right was a raised DJ booth. The records were spun by a topless woman painted with glowing white stripes. Dancers, both male and female, gyrated on platforms dotted throughout the club as strawberry scented fog drifted down from above.
The ceiling faded high into darkness, four stories above. A drone swarm hovered up there, lights flashing and changing color, aligning and realigning to form various shapes. A yellow star, burning bright before fading out. A pair of lips opening to reveal three white Xs. A pink heart, pulsing softly before breaking with a jagged crack down the center.
A VIP mezzanine stood against the far wall, enclosed in glass. It was accessed by a circular staircase that twisted up through the center, guarded by a velvet rope and two beefy security guards. The raised platform was crowded with girls and somber-faced men in sports jerseys or dark suits, holding court with their entourage from the confines of plush couches. Briana peered closer, rising up on her tiptoes to see.
Her mouth fell open. “Is that who I think it is?”
Leish craned her neck and nodded. “Harold Weintraub, that’s him. He’s going to put me in a movie, you know.”
“No, not him,” Briana pointed to a tall man with dark ginger hair. His head was shaved on either side, accentuating the curly mop above. Wire-rim glasses with red lenses sat on his nose and he wore a gray stripped shirt and dark pants. On his feet were ruby red sneakers, bejeweled and glinting. He was laughing, arm thrown over another man’s shoulder.
Leish pulled Briana’s hand down. “Don’t do that. And yeah, that’s him alright.”
“He just discovered Chantilly. They’re working on her album now,” Briana said.
“You want to meet him?”
“Wait.” Briana said, clutching Leish’s arm. “You know Dillon Travis.”
“Shots first,” Leish said, scanning the crowded room before waving with her hand. A muscular Asian man appeared, dressed in loose fitting jeans with a bandoleer over one shoulder holding shot glasses. He grinned as Leish jumped into his arms and he almost dropped his vodka bottle.
“Tony!” she said. “Meet Briana.”
Tony pulled Briana in close with his free hand and hugged both girls tight. The two of them squealed and Leish spanked his ass until he let go and poured two shots. The two young women clinked glasses and knocked them back as Tony shuffled to the beat.
“More, more,” Leish said, holding her glass up. Tony refilled their glasses and they drank again. He held up the bottle and waggled it.
“One more?”
Leish took their empty glasses and shoved them toward his chest, waving him off. Tony backed away, mock injury on his face.
“So, here’s the plan,” Leish said, looping an arm through Briana’s. “We’re going to work our way up to the VIP area. There’re some music producers up there I want you to meet. Real heavy hitters looking for new talent.”
“What about-”
“Yes, yes, Dillon Travis. But first…”
“Yeah?” Briana said.
“Ready for the time of your life?”
CHAPTER 23
It Just Is
They danced and drank and Briana had never felt so alive. It was as if a bright, cleansing light burned inside her, chasing away all the fear and sadness she’d ever felt. It would sound stupid if she said it out loud, she knew, but it’s how she felt. She wanted to savor this feeling forever.
Mom and all her dire warnings seemed like the ravings of an overprotective crazy woman now. Hollywood was nothing like she’d said. The people here were so friendly and Leish was like watching poetry, so effortlessly alive and in her element, bathed in flashing light and pounding rhythm.
Leish was taking selfies with a couple of girls when she caught Briana staring. She cocked her head then swept in close, tracing a finger over her lips. Briana’s heart began to pound. Leish stepped back, a smirk on her face as she slipped into the crowd. Briana lost sight of her and hurried to catch up.
Leish introduced Briana to everyone they met as a singer, her latest discovery. It made her feel special, out here for a real purpos
e. Most smiled and congratulated her. Some rolled their eyes and one girl in a silver dress and smeared lipstick threw her head back and cackled. “You and everybody else,” she said before shuffling away.
The dance floor was filled with women in groups of two or three, holding their phones up to capture themselves dancing or duck-facing for the camera. A few men danced as well, but most of them held their phones up to record someone else, usually a girl.
One of Dillon Travis’s songs came on and a roar went up from the dancefloor. Briana gazed up to the VIP area and saw him peering downward. He raised a glass as the beat thundered out.
“I wanna dance,” Briana said to nobody in particular.
She pushed into a group nearby and grabbed the hand of a young guy dressed in a purple suit patterned with fleur-de-lis. His boyish face lit up as she pulled him into the mass of gyrating bodies. Briana danced and spun, letting the rhythm take her away. They moved closer, and she didn’t stop him as he put his hands on her waist.
A few songs later, Leish came over and pushed the young man away. The guy glanced backward as he slunk off and Briana shrugged and blew him a kiss.
“I feel like a princess,” she said in Leish’s ear.
“More like a queen. C’mon, let’s go.”
They weaved their way over to the VIP stairs, taking a few more vodka shots along the way. The velvet rope dropped and they were waved through. Briana’s head was swimming and she held on tight to the rail as it curved around in a tight corkscrew to the upper level. Her stomach fluttered. She’d never met any industry people before and she didn’t want to make a fool of herself.
They emerged from the stairs, found the bar and ordered more shots. The music was quieter up here, but the voices were louder, everyone shouting over each other to be heard.
A security guard stepped forward and held up a hand. He was muscular and tall, well over six feet, dressed in a black t-shirt and pants. He flashed a light in their eyes and told them to open their purses.
The light stabbed inside Leish’s clutch before she was waved on. She stood nearby, twisting her purple lock around one finger. The guard motioned for Briana to come forward. She opened her purse and he pointed the light in. She moved to pass. Another man appeared, his face stern. He was older, balding, chubby face beaded with sweat above a rumpled suit.
“Hold it, Johnson,” he said to the muscular guard, yanking the flashlight from his grasp. “I got this.”
Johnson raised his hands and backed up a step. “Yes, Mr. Newton.”
“Arms up,” Newton told her, flicking the flashlight up and down. “Straight out from your sides.”
“What? Why?” Briana said.
Newton glared at her as the people behind him went silent, eyes watching. He gripped her arm above the elbow. “Please exit the VIP area.”
“Hey!” Leish said, stepping forward. Newton held up a finger and she stopped, face tight.
“Wait, it’s okay,” Briana said and raised her arms. The noise died down as others in the VIP area turned to watch. He eyed her up and down before sticking the flashlight between his teeth. Reaching out he began to pat her down, having her turn halfway through. His hands lingered as he touched the sides of her breasts and again on the swell of each buttock. Trying not to flinch at his touch, she could feel the eyes of the others crawling over her. The thought of someone like Dillon Travis seeing her like this made her face flush with heat. Shrill voices of Mark and his friends cawed in her head and her stomach turned sour. Leish stood nearby, swiping at her phone screen.
Briana felt a flash of anger.
“Alright, get the hell outta here,” the security guard said, swiping his flashlight back. He raised it overhead as Newton ducked and shuffled away with a devilish grin. “And my name is Williams, you fat fuck,” he called to Newton’s retreating backside.
Newton leapt over the back of a couch and bounced once before falling to the floor, spilling drinks. He lay sprawling, kicking his short legs as everyone laughed.
Tears burned in Briana’s eyes as she looked away.
Leish took her arm. “Sorry about that.”
“I’d like to go now,” Briana said, searching through her purse for nothing in particular.
“Briana-”
“It’s okay, I just want to go.”
“Listen, it’s part of it, okay?” Leish said. “It just is.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“He’s a lawyer in the biz for everybody that matters. Powerful. Connected. You’re new here and he knows it. It’s just a test. You only pass if you stay. Leave now, you’re never getting back up here. Ever.”
Briana wiped her eyes and nodded. “Okay.”
Leish glanced around. “I don’t see Dillon. I’m sure he’ll be back soon. Let’s go meet Harold Weintraub. The movie he’s putting me in? It’s called Inner Bitch. It’s about a female merc squad. Guns for hire. C’mon, he’s sitting right over there.”
They weaved through the crowd to where a large man sat on a green velvet couch. His bald head gleamed in the flashing light. A thin line of whiskers traced the edge of his chin. Gold rimmed sunglasses hid his eyes. A blue suit barely held in the pressure of his bulk, with a crisp collared shirt underneath unbuttoned to reveal several thick ropes of gold chains resting on a thatch of dark chest hair. One meaty arm was thrown over the back of the couch. His other paw held the base of a champagne flute balanced on the upper swell of his stomach.
“Wait here,” Leish said.
Leish weaved through shifting bodies before placing her hands on the arm of the couch, leaning down to speak into Weintraub’s ear. He inclined his head slightly, then turned to gaze up at her. He put a large hand on hers and spoke into her ear, silver teeth flashing. Leish yanked her hands back as if from a hot stove. The large man laughed and shook his head. She stood for a moment, her eyes turning fierce before coming back over.
“Now’s not a good time,” Leish said.
Briana nodded and folded her arms across her chest. She couldn’t imagine what would cause Leish to react like that and she didn’t want to know. Dillon Travis was nowhere to be found. Everyone else was drinking and laughing and it felt like they were outsiders with no way in.
Leish gazed around, her jaw set. She turned to Briana.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
CHAPTER 24
Squirrel Suicide
They emerged into the night air, still stuffy and warm even though it was well past midnight. Knots of people stood in groups along the sidewalk, smoking and waiting for rides. A girl sat on the sidewalk, skirt hiked up, vomiting loudly into the gutter as another held her hair back. Two men nearby stood chest to chest, screaming at each other while their buddies egged them on. Their girlfriends tried to pull them apart, faces slack with boredom.
Phone cameras caught it all.
A silver Prius pulled up to the curb and Leish broke into a run, Briana struggling to keep up in her heels. Yanking the rear door open, she pushed Briana inside then leapt in after her. The driver turned around, eyes glowering from under thick eyebrows. “Careful please, ladies,” he said in clipped English.
“Hey!” said a blond girl in heavy makeup and shiny gold dress, clomping over in chunky heels. “That’s ours!”
“Go, go, go!” Leish said and the driver accelerated away.
They watched through the rear window as the girl ran after them and stumbled, ankles folding up as she fought to right herself in a bizarre pop and lock. She crashed to her knees, causing her blond wig to tumble into the other lane before disappearing under the tires of a passing truck.
Briana and Leish looked at each other then broke into gales of wild laughter.
“Did you see that? That squirrel on her head just committed suicide!” Leish said and they screamed.
“Oh my God, you’re crazy!”
They fell against each other, trying to catch their breath. Leish turned and gazed at Briana before she reached out and brushed her fing
ers over her lips.
“God, you’re pretty,” she said, leaning in close.
“Yeah?” Briana said, heart thudding. She could smell Leish, her perfume—feel her warm breath on her face. They kissed lightly at first. Briana flinched as Leish’s tongue slid into her mouth.
“No girls, no,” the driver said. “I take my kids to school in this car.”
“Eyes on the road, pervert!” Leish said and they laughed again. Briana laid her head on Leish’s shoulder and they watched the city outside drift by.
Perched on the rear window outside was a small dragonfly drone, its beady eyes locked on the two young women inside.
CHAPTER 25
Ersatz Adirondacks
Gary sat in one of the two plastic Adirondacks he’d insisted on buying a few months ago. He did his best thinking while slouched in one, cold beer in hand, breathing the night air. Gail hated them. Said they were tacky. It’s probably why he loved them so much.
Not tonight though.
Tonight, he agreed with her. Fucking things sucked. And it wasn’t a beer he held, either, but the small gift delivered by a counterfeit dragonfly. His thumb traced over the surface of the little heart shaped object in the darkness. He could feel his son’s smooth faces, then the sharp edge where their mouths were thrown open wide in agony. It wasn’t a gift.
It was a threat.
He’d heard somewhere that dragonflies were good luck, so it stood to reason that a mechanical mockery of one brought the exact opposite. Nature out of balance, or something.
“Gary?” Gail called from behind the screen door. “The twins are asleep.”
“I’ll be in in a minute.”
The screen door opened and Gary groaned internally. Gail came out and sat on the other Adirondack, readjusting herself to find a comfortable place on the edge.
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