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I’ve got nearly a hundred pictures on my phone from last night. Almost all of them have a thumb over the camera lens.
And apparently, it’s the same for everyone else.
“Oh, look. It’s Liam and the monkey.” Percy holds up her phone for everyone to see.
All of us but Liam try not to laugh at the sight of the monkey humping his leg.
“A true love story for the ages,” Percy guffaws, unable to keep it in anymore.
“Cheeky bastard,” Liam grumbles and stuffs his face with some noodles. “Though I can’t argue with his taste in men.”
“Me neither, babe,” Becky says, snuggling up to her husband and snagging the lime slice from his pad thai.
I sift through some more pictures. Thumbs, thumbs, Percy flashing a tuk tukdriver…but nothing useful.
Until finally I come across one thatdoescatch my attention. It doesn’t reveal much—it’s mostly still just a giant, blurry thumb. But in the background of that picture I see a locale that looks all too familiar—even though I don’t fucking remember it.
The sign in the background reads in bright pink neon:Ladyboy Cabaret.
“Anyone remember this place?”
I hold up my phone and get a bunch of head shakes in response.
Until, that is, I turn the phone screen to the direction of Ladyboy Celine Dion.
“Uh-huh. Hellno.Not going back there,” Mysti’s new friend pipes up.
“Wait, why?”
Finally, some answers.
“Nope!” the ladyboy says, crossing her arms over her ample chest.
…okay.Or not.
“Trust me. Whole place, no good.”
“Aw, come on. It’s a caberet. How bad can it be?” Percy says, turning the phone her way again. “Hey, is that my thumb?”
I swat her hand away from the phone screen. This isn’t the time for jokes—or for Ladyboy Celine Dion to be holding out on the deets. I want answers. Ineedanswers.
“Nothing but trouble is why,” Ladyboy Celine Dion professes. “They won’t happy to see you back there again, that’s forsure…”
Mysti tries to pry some information with some whispers of sweet nothings and neck kisses, but even that doesn’t work. In fact, it just makes Ladyboy Celine Dion slap Mysti May across the face and storm away.
With our new companion being a dead end, that leaves us—or me—with only one real choice. I need to go there and see if anyone knows anything.
We look through more pictures in the hopes that we can piece together more from the night before. All we really get a look at is how awesome we’ve been at photographing our own thumbs.
At least the pad thai is good. Or so I think. It’s hard to tell with that lingering tequila aftertaste.
Liam and I hail a couple tuk tuks for us. There is no fucking way that we’re all going to fit into just one.
Our group arrives in one piece, and Liam forks over the money to cover the rides. God knows he has more than enough to cover it. As if he’s not a billionaire already—with all that mysterious money he gained last night, he’s swimming in cash right now.
I step through the threshold of the cabaret, and I think that I will finally have some answers.
As if I’m that fucking lucky.
