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He pours OJ into a glass. “I’ve got a meeting at twelve.” He reaches for me and hooks his arm around the curve of my waist, tugging me farther into his warmth. “Then I’m all yours?”
I smile up at him. “Hey, um, I don’t know if you’ll want to, but I figure I’d ask. There’s a cookout happening tonight. Do you want to come? Maybe come see Niko?” I don’t know why I’m so nervous to say Niko’s name around Luca. It’s like I’m speaking about an Antichrist, but I know how close Luca and Niko were growing up.
Luca plants a gentle kiss on my lips. “Sure thing, babe. What time we going?”
I lick his kiss off my lips. “Seven.” Losing my train of thought, I reach for his tie and twist it around my fingers. “How was last night?”
Luca chuckles. “Good, babe. Real good.”
“Well, it can’t have been that good since you mauled me this morning…”
Luca turns, emptying his glass of OJ and heading toward the stairs. “Not good enough to make me forget I have the sexiest woman in the world at home.”
I roll my eyes at his cheesy compliment before opening a new text to Ma. This is good. Placid. Calm. Comply…
Me: We will be there at 7.
Ma: We?
I narrow my eyes at my phone, ignoring her and opening Instagram as I busy myself cutting up a loaf of bread to toast. One new follower: @antichrist. I pause, dropping the sliced bread into the toaster. It opens up onto his profile, but it’s private. I place my phone on the counter and think over what to do. If I request to follow him, is it too soon? Too desperate? If anything, that is the furthest thing I am known for. Self-absorbed? Sure. Know I’m hot shit? Yes. But desperate? Hell no.
Fuck it. I tap Follow.
I rinse off my dishes and put them into the dishwasher after I’ve eaten, sliding my phone into my pocket. Before tonight, I need to go into the studio. I need to let go of the pent-up energy I have raging through my muscles.
I stretch my leg out on the barre, flicking through my playlist on my phone. I try to come in when I know that absolutely no one is around. I need some space to clear my head before tonight because any time Niko is near me, it flips me upside down.
I set my phone up on the tripod and push record. I’ve always been an entertainer, but more so as I’ve aged. Now with TikTok, I’ve managed to obtain a large following for both myself and the school, and a handful of kids that attend here have also gathered a large herd of followers. Times have changed a lot since I was their age, but I’m all for TikTok, since YouTube confuses me. I push play on “GREECE” by Drake and dance to the sound until sweat dampens my skin and my breathing becomes borderline flatline.
I’m flicking through the footage when I get a notification from Instagram: @antichrist accepted your follow request. My finger hovers over his name, but my heart continues to beat in my chest. I know why. It’s just a Niko thing. He has always had this effect on me, even when we were kids. I hoped it would have died out by now, but here we are.
I touch the tattoo on the side of my neck. “This kind of love doesn’t die out, it burns.”
Sliding down the mirrored wall, I bring my knees to my chest as I click on his profile. I’m going to need to smoke cleanse myself to rid my mind of that memory.
“Are you listening to me, Mer?” Niko’s thumb was pressed against my tongue in my mouth. “We burn, and anyone who crosses our path turns to fucking ash.”
1548 followers following 33. His bio is blank, and his profile photo is of him on his bike. He has a few images, and I go through them slowly. No selfies or cheesy quotes, just bikes and group photos. There’s one or two of him that have been shot from someone else, and I open the one with his shirt off. Naturally. Niko has always been fit, but his body now has been trained, whipped, and molded into perfection from nothing more than cold, hard iron. His muscles are tight and precise, a complete contrast to the tattoos that are covering his skin. Across his abs, the word ANTICHRIST is tattooed in Old English, and below that, the year 2003. Making my way out of his Instagram and back to the safe zone, a.k.a. TikTok, I start uploading my new video before exiting.
The door opens and Lila bounces through, tossing her duffel bag onto the floor. “I saw your car and needed to dance. Maybe we can make some content.”
