Then Ophelia stepped into my life.
Ophelia. Stop thinking about Ophelia. I take my first sip of coffee. For most people, caffeine wakes them up. For me, it’s the final shot of adrenaline to my already-adrenaline-riddled system that finally shakes me apart and takes me down. Sleep doesn’t come easy to me. I need to be tranquilized like a runaway bull in order to get any rest at all.
I rub my chin and feel the bite of a night’s worth of stubble. I need to shave. Shower. Things that feel insurmountable right now.
“How was Ophelia’s party?”
“It was okay,” Princess says. She’s being political. Trying not to offend me.
“You can say you enjoyed it.”
“It wasfun. It made me think…we should do more social events. It’s been a while.” Princess taps her nails on the table. “Valentine’s Day is Friday. What if we have a Valentine’s Day themed club party?”
I answer immediately, “No.”
A fact about me: I might own a sex club, but I’m not good at the…well.Clubpart of it.
That’s where Princess and I divide up responsibility. I provide the space. I make sure everyone safe. I kick out anyone who gives me so much as a bad vibe. She provides the sparkle. She organizes the social events that take it out of me—things like munches and newbie-night. She’s also the one who upgraded us to the twenty-first century by building an app that I can still only barely use. I am, however, very good at theblockfunction.
The Seekers Club is much better with her in it. But I crave the simple things. The dark. The quiet. Small groups. No frills. Just skin. Rope. Ophelia’s screams.
As if she can read my mind, Princess adds, “I bet Ophelia would come.”
A lock turns inside me. She’s not wrong.
Ophelia has never been one to turn away from a good time.
I know too well that if I want Ophelia back…I’m going to have to make some big moves. Starting now. A party is a good place to start.
Okay, Princess. You win this round.
I lift my head slightly, resting my chin on my arm. “Okay. Let’s do it. What do you need?”
Princess brightens. “Oh! Great! Just a couple things. I’ve already made a list.”
She slides over a checklist, each tick-box shaped like a heart. It’s a million items long.
20
Ophelia.Now.
I’m doing fine, actually. Without Phantom.
Really.
I mean, yeah, I’m skipping laundry days, skipping meals, not drinking as much water as I should, sleeping more than I should, can’t remember the last time I got off, and I completelybombedmy last audition because it’s impossible to exude bright, bubbly confidence when you’re feeling anything but, but…
Otherwise? I’m doing fine.
Dove’s boyfriend, Dorian, owns a bookstore calledThe Paper Cut. It mostly for horror books and gruesome reads, but he has more traditional sections, too. He’s having a family drag-reading at his bookstore, so I invite Aleena and Dove and I pencil it in. The queen in question is Cinnamon, who plays at the club sometimes, so it only feels right to show my support.
Besides. I can use any distraction to get my mind off of Phantom.
A bell above the door chimes as I enter.The Paper Cutis a gloomy place, but in a curated way; dim lights, dark colors,that earthy, ink-on-paper scent. I step inside, rocking a bomber jacket over a pair of tight jeans, and large hoop earrings that bounce against my shoulders. The front desk is empty, save for a black cat that’s lounged across the top of the desk. I approach and she tilts her head, yellow eyes on me.
“Do you take cash or card?” I ask.
She rolls onto her back, showing me her belly. I’m a dog person, but even I know this is a trap. I give her belly a single tickle and I retract my hand just in time before she reaches out to swipe at me.
