Page 32 of Before the Encore

When Madison tugged her into the arcade, Bonnie frowned. “It smells like onions in here.” She glanced at Madison and laughed. “You have sugar all over your face.” She snapped another photo, and Madison wiped her cheeks.

Red-faced children ran past them, bumping into Madison’s legs. Bonnie continued to stand by the entrance, multicoloured lights flashing over her perplexed face.

Madison nudged her. “Go on. Pick one for me to beat you at.”

Bonnie wandered to the first zombie shooting game and tapped a plastic gun. “This.”

“Zombies?”

“Don’t tell me a vampire like yourself is scared of a little zombie outbreak.”

Madison scoffed. “Not scared. Just surprised you didn’t pick the pony racing simulator.”

“I don’t even like horses. They’re too…big.”

She laughed, swiping her card stocked with credits. When she came with Kam, they’d spent what felt like days failing to win a Stitch teddy from a claw machine. She picked up the red gun and pointed it at Bonnie. “Alright, princess. Game on.”

Madison lasted three more rounds in Zombie Attack 6, as well as air hockey and basketball—she theorised the pop princess was afraid of breaking a nail, which resulted in said nail poking her in the chest and a demand of a rematch.

“How about I give you a chance and use my left hand?” she teased.

Bonnie blasted the puck towards her. “You can shove that left hand where the sun doesn’t shine.”

Each game grew more competitive than the last, with Madison gloating and Bonnie more determined to win. When they reached their last game, the card spent, Bonnie ran to a driving simulator, almost wiping out a child as she did so.

“This one.” She slammed her hands on the wheel. “I know I can beat you at this one.”

Madison squinted at the blinking lights with a smirk. “You don’t even drive yourself. You have a chauffeur, for fuck’s sake.”

Bonnie climbed into the oversized red chair, determination drawing her brows together. “Try me.”

Madison climbed into the adjacent seat, the pinging arcade machines echoing around them. They quickly chose their cars and track, and then the roar of simulated engines filled their ears. Bonnie concentrated so hard, she didn’t notice Madison purposefully driving her car into the barriers. Or how she found herself lingering on Bonnie’s face for longer than what was considered friendly instead of watching her own screen.

Bonnie threw her hands up in celebration when she crossed the finish line; Madison finished in a measly fifth place. “Aha. Told you!”

Madison bit back her smile. “Alright, alright. Calm yourself. It was one game. You’re still the overall loser.”

They stepped out into the fresh air, the smell of sea salt and fried food mingling together. The beginning of dusk drew pink and indigo into the sky, the hush of the ocean rolling under their feet. The slats clunked with the swell of people rushing to take pictures of the dipping sun.

Bonnie stopped to take a few photos, grumbling when Madison tugged on her arm.

“What? I’m being a tourist.”

Madison inclined her head. “I know a better spot.”

When they arrived at the Ferris wheel, Madison jumped the line, despite a protesting Bonnie pulling at her sleeve. People in the queue complained, but the ticket man at the front let them through, straight into a carriage—an agreement she’d arranged earlier.

Bonnie sat on the hard bench, eyeing her. “That wasn’t very low-key.”

She shrugged. “It’s getting dark now anyway. And I could hardly have Bonnie Bloom waiting in a queue, could I?”

“You’re an arse.” But Bonnie just shook her head, then let out a little yelp when the ride started to move.

The carriage creaked, gently rocking as the sea stretched out in front of them. Clashing sounds and music faded away, the air growing quiet as they rose into the darkening sky. The air shifted inside the cabin too. The hard wooden seat barely big enough for the two of them. She could only breathe in Bonnie’s scent, sweet honey paired with something fruity, could only feel the heat of her thigh pressed against hers. And as the ocean opened up, gorgeous pinks and oranges painting the sky, her pulse quickened.

This was not a date. Not a date. So why did it feel like one?

And why was Bonnie so silent?