“—craziest thing I’ve ever seen! And I can’t believe—”
“—and then he came out of nowhere—”
“—out of nowhere, this guy—”
“—saves you.”
Marcia ushered them off to the left with a firm tone and an engaging smile, and a threesome took their place. Which meant there was all kinds ofyou go here, no I’ll go there, I want to be here, wait, how about I kneel?While they worked things out, Lyric let herself get positioned and repositioned like a garden gnome, her detachment so deep and complete, she felt like she was staring at herself from across the VIP area.
The good news? The conversation was always the same, so afterstumbling through the first couple of interactions, she’d landed on some appropriate repeatables:
Yes, from out of nowhere—
I can’t believe it, either—
I’m so lucky to be alive!
As with the smile she put on her face when it was time for the pictures, she made sure to inject the enthusiasm that was expected, and she was amazed at how good she was at faking this version of herself. The truth behind the branding, though, was that only one thing was on her mind.
What had he looked like?
How could she not picture that man’s face? This monumental thing had happened to her, this shocking, near-death, close call—and if he hadn’t shown up when he did, she wouldn’t be—
“Smile!”
On command, Lyric focused on the iPhone and followed directions as she felt a woman lean in and fly the peace sign.
“—and then he came out of nowhere!” The brunette made twin kapows next to her temples. “I was there! I saw it and I posted it, too. It’s the craziest thing I’ve ever seen!”
“I know, right?” Lyric went jazz hands. “Amazing.”
The young woman danced off, and Lyric went right back down below the surface, replaying the events again, a video on repeat—except it was something she’d lived through.
What color hair had he had? What about his eyes…? He hadn’t been wearing a coat, in spite of the cold, that much she was sure of.
“—sign this eye palette?”
Lyric came to. “Yes, of course!”
With a smile that didn’t show her fangs, she turned to the waist-high table that had been brought over. As she uncapped a Sharpie and scribbled her name by the Trash Panda logo, she knew for certain the guy hadn’t been wearing a coat, because she had a clear recollection of him going over and picking it up from where it’d been laid on some steps.
A t-shirt, plain, under a bib with reflective safety panels, had been the only thing he’d had on.
Well, that and a crapload of muscle.
“—I mean, can you believe it? You could have been killed!”
“I know.” Lyric recapped the pen and held out the palette with more smiling. “It’s one of the most miraculous things that has ever happened to me.”
The redhead lingered, taking the makeup and holding it to her heart. “To anybody!”
Over at the front of the line, where the snaking ropes ended, the next set of women chimed in with agreement—
Marcia stepped up again and smiled with all her professional happy-happy. “Okay, let’s keep the line moving—”
That was when Lyric saw the disruption, in the main part of the club on the far side of the VIP area’s velvet rope. Bodies were agitating, getting out of the way of something that was moving fast—and then whatever it was hit the tuxedo’d gatekeepers.
And didn’t give two shits about pissing them off.
