But inside, I’m screaming:
Want me.
Need me.
Need me the way I need you.
In the theme of Valentine’s, I’ve gone all red. I’ve picked a red jumpsuit that hugs my chest and hips and flares at the legs. I hook on hooped earrings and throw a fluffy, matching-red jacket over it and we’re ready to go. I am nothing if not dramatic, after all.
Dorian earns his keep by walking Spud and then the three of us hop on the train going uptown, into Harlem. Dorian and Dove are talking excitedly, cackling with each other, and I feel myself go inward. I close my eyes and let the train rock me, listening to the squeaks and screams of her wheels.
Okay, Ophelia. Your role for tonight. The previously humiliated, dethroned queen is back to retake her crown. Your character has been burned, but she’s rising from the ashes well. Spine straight. Chin up. Tits out. She holds herself with confidence. She’s ready to make her king get on his knees and beg for forgiveness.
Why? Because of the second, secret motivation…
She’s ready to forgive him. If only he’d ask.
The train jerks and I open my eyes. We’ve arrived at our stop. We exit the train, walk the few blocks to the Seekers’ Club, and…strangest thing. The door, which is usually locked closed and protected with a password, has been propped open. A warm, welcoming light seeps out onto the concrete stairs of the brownstone. Inside, there’s the sound of easy music and familiar, welcoming voices and…
My heart flutters. I’m home.
I step inside. At the door, our doorman in a leather bondage suit and face mask extends his arms to take our coats.
“You know it’s a fancy party because we’ve got the doorman,” I comment. I hang my jacket over his arm. “Thank you, Zero.”
The good boy doesn’t respond, but I know there’s a happy expression behind the mask.
Even I have to admit, Phantom and Princess did a great job decorating. There are rose petals aplenty, which match well with the already gothic-feel of the brownstone. There’s a little paper-chain hearts dangling over the mantlepiece and I smile, running my finger over it, wondering if it’s Kira’s.
People are hanging around in the lounge, but the kitchen has been opened up as well. I can see a spread of finger food across the island. The wide study has been set up with pairs of chairs cuddled around little high-tops.
“Yo! O!” Carver waves us over. He’s standing with Jekyll, who’s wearing a smart pant suit, and Ginger in an adorable floral dress. I come over and accept his familiar embrace before hugging the two women as well.
“This is cute, right?” I say.
“You’ve gotta check out the food,” Carver says.
“They have penis popsicles!” Ginger stage-whispers excitedly.
“For eating?” Dorian chimes in. “Or…?”
“Or,” Dove agrees.
“Hey, will you hold this for a second?” Carver asks. He opens up his palm to me, revealing a little, candy-heart that says “Be Mine.”
I pluck it from his palm, pop it in my mouth, and crush it between my teeth with a wink.
He sucks in a breath. “Cold, O. Heartbreaker.”
“Takes one to know one, stud.”
I know it’s only been two weeks, but God, it feels good to be back with these people. My energy is returning, my confidence increasing. I glance around, but no sign of Phantom. Not yet. It is like him to be fashionably late to his own party.
Jekyll furrows her brow and looks over my shoulder. “Is that Trinity?”
I follow her gaze to a woman who just entered. She’s a good-looking white woman in her forties, maybe fifties, with a blonde bob and a smart tan coat. She startles briefly when she sees Zero, her hand flying to her chest, but then she laughs good naturedly and shrugs off her coat, handing it to him.
“Who?” Carver asks.
