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But we’re given the 21+ wristbands and not the black stamps being marked on the backs of the hands of 18–20-year-olds. Apparently the club is 18 and up for dancing and fun, but the bartenders keep a careful watch on who’s downing the alcohol.
I notice right away that the vibe isn’t like that of a typical nightclub. It’s loud, sure, but not so obnoxiously pounding that you can feel the bass rattling your bones. And the lighting is fun and colorful over the dance floor, but there’s no headache-inducing strobe throbbing along with the beat.
Around the walls, however, the lighting is significantly dimmer, and there are plush couches set all around, some in slightly inset “rooms” within the larger room.
And on those sofas seemed to be primarily couples. Well, not couples, exactly, groups. At first, I just thought they were maybe clusters of friends or something with a handful of amorous couples, but when I saw one girl switch from kissing a tall, redheaded woman to kissing a man with a mop of dark curls, I realized that maybe these weren’t “couples” at all.
“River…why did you bring me here, exactly?” I ask.
“Because I thought you needed to see this,” she replies, looking completely at ease with the scene around us.
The more I look around, the more groups like this I see, threesomes, foursomes, fivesomes…it’s enough to make my head spin.
“Ecstasia is all about celebrating love,” River explains, “Whether you’re part of the LGBTQ, straight, monogamous, polyamorous-”
“Polyamorous?”
She nods. “Like some of these people,” she says, gesturing to the clusters on the couches, “Basically means you’re open to loving more than one person at once.”
Suddenly I realize exactly why she’s brought me here. “So that’s what you think I am? Polyamorous? Because I have feelings for both Mason and Trent?”
“I don’t know, maybe. It’s possible.”
“Well, that’s all well and good, but I don’t think that solves my problem,” I sigh, “That just makes things even more complicated.”
“Maybe, but maybe not. You and Mason both love Trent, right?”
“Right.”
“And you love Mason?”
“Yeah?”
“So…maybe you could find some way to share Trent with him. Clearly it’s not impossible.”
I look around. “Well yeah, but I don’t even know if Trent’s into him that way. He’s never said anything about being bi.”
“He hasn’t said he isn’t, though, either,” she reminds me, “And the fact that they still live together, even though they’re almost 30 and both of them have well-paying jobs? Sounds like maybe there’s some…attachment.”
I hadn’t thought about it like that, but it’s an interesting point. Was it really a possibility?
It seemed like a holy grail, a scrap of hope to cling to, but at the same time, I was afraid it was just as legendary as the grail, a scenario too far-fetched to work in real life.
“Look, I’m not making any promises or anything, I’m just opening your eyes to another option,” River says, “Give it some thought, maybe talk to them about it.”
Sharing Trent with Mason. It was an interesting thought, and when I glimpsed a pair of men kissing on the dance floor later that evening, my mind replaced their faces with those of my best friends and I realized just how attractive the prospect really was to me.
Maybe it was impossible, but was it worth a try?
