After doing my hair and makeup, I threw on my dress, gold garter, and my studded black boots, loving the vibes. My hair didn’t match my gothic ensemble, but it still fit perfectly somehow.
Before leaving, I pre-gamed with three shots of vodka. I nervously called Royce to get me and he told me he was already out and about and that it’d be easy for him to escort me.
When Dox died, I figured Royce would abandon me and Madden, but for some reason, he stuck with us and was a huge part of our lives. Even if Madden abandoned me in the end.
By the time Royce picked me up and took me to The Underground on Fifth, I regretted my decision to come out. The texts Madden sent me earlier stuck with me.
Does he do it for you?
No, he didn’t. But how the hell did I tell my nephew that the man I planned on dying old with didn’t know where my clit was and how to make me scream?
It was a learning process, but he didn’t give a fuck about learning. Madden coming back into my life muddled my brain. I never felt bothered by his inability to please me.
I just used my vibrator after.
“Be safe, Miss Andy,” Royce said when I got out.
“Leslie should be here already,” I mentioned, and he watched me with curiosity and concern.
“Call me if anything goes wrong,” he said, looking me over once more. “Anything.”
“Will do, Roy. See you in a bit.”
He offered me a nod as I left the town car.
Walking toward the club I’d frequented since being sixteen, nostalgia hit me. I loved this place. The vibes were always immaculate and they had bird cages where anyone could dance. It’s where I truly realized it wasn’t just guys who interested me.
Sal—one of the people who manned the front—saw me and waved me over. It said a lot when the club management knew you by name.
“Andy! It’s been a while,” he exclaimed. I offered a smile, not knowing what to say. I started my job at a law firm, met Brandon, and he liked to stay home... there wasn’t much to offer.
“Missed you, Sal. Hope the husband is doing well.”
His entire face lit up, the way he loved Carlos was unparalleled. I loved seeing them together, happiness littered across their faces.
“He misses you and says you still owe him a dance.”
I chuckled, feeling lighter at that. We used to dance in the cages together, it was some of the best memories I had with them both. “Tell him I’ll be waiting.” If I came out more often, we’d be able to see each other more. “By the way, have you seen Leslie? She’s supposed to meet me here.”
He nodded with amusement. “She’s in the center cage, already tipsy.” Happiness bloomed in my chest. Leslie was always the life of the party. Leslie’s energy was vivacious, she could turn a sad day into an epic party. We’d been close for years. Not only did we go to college together, she helped me get the job at Brandon’s firm.
“Of course, she is,” I said with genuine joy. Sal waved me inside and the music hit me before the visuals. The Underground always spotlighted local artists, ones trying to make a living but didn’t have a ton of fame. They did have famous people come to sing, but it wasn’t frequent. They liked keeping the energy alive for those without reach.
As soon as I spotted Tayslee and Marion, I went toward them. They were chatting at the bar, sipping drinks. Unlike Leslie, they didn’t like dancing in the cages. They always claimed they had two left feet. If you saw them drunk, you’d know they could dance better than me sober.
Tays was my coworker who immediately made friends with me. We became close one day after a work Christmas party, getting wasted and talking about how life changed too often. Marion, Les, and I went to law school together. It bonded us for life. Crazy enough, we all were queer, and gay bars were how we truly got to know each other.
While Mari and Tays didn’t like dancing, they would end up on the dance floor by the end of round three just like I would end up in the cages. Being in the cages was to feel beautiful and enjoy the way the music flowed through you, but being afraid of heights, even I had to have some liquor sloshing inside to be that high up. It was an unspoken rule to always wear underwear while in the cages above, unless you wanted everything hanging out for others to see.
“Andy, is that you?” Marion asked, spotting me first. Marion Edwards was one of my best friends. She was Black and so proud of her African roots. Mari created art with more than her arguments in the courtroom, she made breathtaking clay sculptures for shows. I loved how she brought so much life to everything she did.
Her hair was braided beautifully, elegant and divided down the middle. She’d told me about her hair journey since leaving her last job at J&J’s law firm. It empowered her, feeling beautiful and more connected to her Muslim culture. The way her eyes glowed with her makeup gave me complete envy, especially right now. Unlike me, she knew how to cut the crease of her eyes, making them pop with the contrast of color. I loved it. No matter how hard she tried teaching me, we both laughed at how bad I truly was with a brush.
Tays turned and a big, warm smile lit up her features. Tayslee Reed was Afro-Colombian, connected to her roots in Buenaventura. We’d spent so much time visiting her family, eating their food, learning of their culture, and being immersed in a world that welcomed me. It’d been months since we’d all hung out together, but we’ve always been close.
Tays rocked butterfly locs right now, her baby hairs swooping around her face in a delicate way. They were beautiful, in a half-up, half-down style. The red ends were stunning, an ombré style that reminded me of her passion for painting. Tays recently got both sides of her nose done and they were perfect. Golden swirl piercings that brought out the gilded flecks in her eyes.
I’d always wanted to get mine done but Brandon said it was ugly, and that only made me want to get them more. Especially now.
“Hey, guys!” I hollered, finally erasing the gap of people between us. The bartender—a stunning brunette with hair in a fancy updo—came over to me.
“What will it be?”
“Vodka tonic, please!”
“Coming right up!” she responded over the loud speaker.
She turned and the girls started hounding me. “Where’s that Ken doll of a man you have?” Tays asked, her face unimpressed but as impassive as she could offer. I wanted to laugh. They weren’t saying it with kindness, but instead with disappointment. Before Brandon and I got together, he was the whore of the office, the man everyone wanted and got. Les filled me in before we started dating, letting me know he had a reputation.
And she let me know she hated him with every fiber of her being.
Tays along with Leslie, were the only ones who didn’t fuck him. Which, in itself, was a shock since there were a lot of women at the company. It surprised me he screwed so many. Les didn’t like men, and even if she did, Brandon was the furthest thing from her type.
“He’s at his place. I don’t know what he’s doing but he’s bummed that I canceled our date night.”
Marion rolled her eyes and Tays just kept her impassive stare. “He doesn’t deserve you. What guy doesn’t want his woman having fun?” Mari offered snidely, her grimace enough to tell me I shouldn’t marry him. A part of me—the intelligent and independent part—knew they were right. But then there was that insecure portion, where I didn’t believe I deserved more or better. They were constantly arguing in my head, and sometimes, I gave in to the negative mind, staying because life was easier that way.