20
—

I stood outside my home and waited for Fegan, feeling awkward in my own skin. I wore one of Ciro's fishnet vests, a black baggy jeans, and one of Ciro's black platform shoes. It was the first time I appreciated Ciro leaving his gay clothes in my footsteps, but I still felt awkward as hell.

Fegan pulled up in his Mitsubishi Mirage and rolled down his window. His hair was dyed pink. It actually suited him pretty well.

"You look good; cool," he commented. "For once."

I rolled my eyes and walked over to the passenger side, shoes squeaking awkwardly as I walked. When I entered, I felt his gaze shamelessly inspecting me.

He scoffed, "Nice hat." I pulled the ski-mask fully over my face. "Oh, cool." He took a moment to observe it. "Why do I feel like I've seen this... Anyway, let's go."

"Mhmm..." I turned to look out the window. Where had he seen this mask before? Was it possible he'd seen snippets from my lives? We had driven off and the silence started to bite into me. "So... have you spoken to Ciro since?"

He hummed. "Yeah, he's..." He thought for a moment. "...still figuring his shit out, I guess." His eyes met mine. "Don't waste your time with him, Jude. You're like... a butterfly who just emerged from his cocoon. Ciro's still in his egg or whatever. You need to move forward, with him you would only go back.

"Ciro's not one in a million. No one is. As someone who's... like three years older than you—making me more mature—I can tell you that everyone is replaceable in due time. Your mind would try to convince you otherwise, but there would always be someone else out there who could provide you with the same feelings, same words, same bond. No one is as unique as they think they are; no one is that special."

With my eyes set downcast, I admitted, "I don't think that makes me feel better."

He chuckled. "I get that, but I think it's true."

I nodded, facing him. "I think I agree."

Silence was granted from there and we relished in it; sought comfort in it even. It provided room for contemplation on what he had just said and introspection.

When we reached the club, I found myself paralyzed. Fegan turned me from the chin to face him. "You look amazing and I know you're ready for this. I know exactly how you feel right now because I've felt the same before. It's worth it, I promise. You're gonna have the best night of your life with people who are just like you... like us. You wouldn't know what it feels like to be home until you're home, alright?"

I nodded stiffly.

"And don't worry, I'll be there with you every step of the way."

★・・・・・・★

"I'll be right back."

"What? You said you'd—"

"Jamie! Baby, I haven't seen you in years," he screamed, jogging toward his friend. The girl giggled and ran back toward him. "You look amazing!" he continued.

I couldn't hear what she replied with over the music, all I knew was that I was alone on that dance floor. I sighed, retreating to the bar for a drink.

"Where are you going?" A voice questioned.

I turned to see a beautiful woman staring back at me. Slender in frame, her eyes were just as delicate. With skin like caramel and eyes of dark chocolate, she was as gorgeous as she was tall. Her sleek black hair flowed over her shoulders and down to her butt. I couldn't stop staring, trying to figure out whether she was Arabian or Indian.

She furrowed her brows and threw her voice effortlessly over the booming phonk music. "Are you deliberately ignoring me?"

"No, ma'am."

She smiled at this. "Come dance with me and my friends!"

"I'm sorry I don't—" Her gentle smile slipped, making me rethink my decision. "I mean, sure." She took me by my wrist and led me deeper into the dance floor, stopping at a group that matched her neon orange dress.

She joined her friends in dance before taking off her neon orange glow sticks and clipping them around my neck and wrists.

She came to my ear and cheered, "Now you're one of us!"

I chuckled and did as little dance moves as possible.

★・・・・・・★

"Chug, chug, chug!" they cheered as I chugged down the white spirits. I wanted to throw it up, but I didn't.

I laughed with them and passed the bottle, encouraging someone else to join in. From there I danced the night away, enshrouded with my people. Even though I had just met every last one of them, I felt like I never bonded with anyone as deeply before. There were no blockages, just genuine good vibes from them all.

I fueled my body with alcohol and fell into somewhat of a dream state; a limbo between consciousness and unconsciousness, and it felt amazing.

For the first time in a long time, I genuinely laughed and the feeling that ensued was better than any high I had ever felt before. I slung my arms over my peers and swayed with them as we sang 'I Want to Break Free' from Queen, laughing at the guy in our group with the green spiky hair who sang the wrong lyrics.

"You guys are so shitty!" he complained, eyes peering off. Soon, they widened. "Guys, look! It's Dante—right over there, at the bar."

We all looked off.

"He's so fine," the guy with the skirt sighed.

He was talking about a dark-skinned guy whose skin was illuminated by the gold bar lights as he sat beneath it. He was posed up on the counter, facing us, looking at us; at me. Was he looking at me? I looked away, only to see the gang staring at me too.

"What?"

"He's totally checking you out," Green spiky hair guy said.

The one with the skirt gasped, "Oh my God. He is."

I looked back to see their statements were the truth.

The gorgeous woman smiled. "Go get us some drinks. We're thirsty." She had a mischievous smile on her face as she nudged me on.

I gestured toward the one with the skirt. "He looks like he's more down."

"No," he whined, spinning me around and gently pushing me toward the bar. "You're definitely his type. Go talk to him. Don't forget to mention how cool I am though." I chuckled at his final nudge to go over, and I did.

Suddenly, I was struck. He was way more attractive close-up. His lips tipped into a one-sided smile as I approached the counter. I placed my hands on the counter beside him, pretending to look at the menu.

He nudged his head toward me as he called, "Woi." When I looked at him, his grin widened. "Say wi yuh wa, mi wa pleasure you... with a drink, of course." He had a Jamaican accent that was so thick and a voice so deep that I had to repeat his words in my head to process them.