Chapter Text
“How long are we gonna be here?” Lestat shouted over the music as we entered the edge of the shifting sea of bodies at the club.
“I don’t know, an hour? Whenever they close.” I was trying to get us around the overcrowded dance floor to the bar, following Armand.
“Babe, I’m exhausted, I’m really not up for-”
“Sit at the bar then.”
“There aren’t any seats, this place is packed!”
“Fuck off, then!” We had reached the bar and I let go of his hand, practically threw it back at him. “Go back to the room, if all you’re gonna do is bitch and complain!”
He stared at me, hurt.
“Why are you doing this, Lou?”
“Because I’m having fun. I want to have some fun!” It sounded ridiculous and childish so I went on. “I’ve been miserable this whole fucking trip and now I’m not and I’d just like to enjoy myself for once, if that’s alright with you. You’ve had your night out, now I’d like to have mine.”
“Babe, I didn’t-”
“No, don’t, you know what, I don’t care what happened, I really don’t.” I couldn’t stop. He had set me off and set loose everything I’d been holding back. “Why did you bring me here? Why did you let me come with you? Why did you fucking, leave me alone with him right after we got here, right after he…” I saw Nicolas’ bandaged wrists, imagined I had seen the red stitched flesh beneath. I saw Paul’s shining red blood. “You know, you know that I, Paul, I-”
“What?” The confusion on his face was genuine. “What about Paul? Babe, I can’t hear you, the music.” He stepped closer, put gentle hands on me, real concern. “C’mon, let’s go outside and talk.”
“Fuck you.”
I looked him in the eye as I said it, let his pain pierce me, let it sink in deep.
“Fine. Fuck it, whatever, you… You have a nice night, Lou.” He went back into the crowd.
Armand had somehow gotten to the front of the line to order drinks. I made my way to her and she took my arm to help me through the last cluster of people between us.
“More of the same?”
I didn’t know if she meant my drink or my discussion with Lestat. I nodded.
She ordered for us, then slipped off her backpack and pulled her sweatshirt off over her head. She handed both to the bartender, who stowed them under the bar without a word.
“Do you always get what you want so easily?” I asked when our drinks arrived ahead of everyone else’s.
“Not always.”
I tossed more gin back as quickly as I could, given the carbonated tonic. I looked at the writhing crowd barely clothed in black mesh and leather, in polyester imitations of silk, satin, velvet. I eyed what Armand had stripped down to; long-sleeved clinging mesh, fine and sheer enough to reveal the binder I had glimpsed earlier that day. The crucifix of their rosary hovered over the soft swell of their stomach, circled their bellybutton.
“I feel a bit underdressed,” I leaned in to say.
“You’re beautiful,” they said, tugging at one of the strings of my hooded sweatshirt. “Come.” They put down their drink and pulled on my sleeve. “Dance with me, Louis.”
I drained my glass and let them lead me into the throng.
I wasn’t fully adrift on the gin, just floating a bit. Wishing I’d had more before I left the safe harbor of the bar. I was grateful for the crowd suddenly; no space to be self-conscious. Bodies pressed so close on all sides that any concern for impropriety was necessarily dismissed. I was submerged in touch. I leaned into it, gave myself over to it. I closed my eyes.
“So you aren’t open?”
“What?” I asked, opening my eyes.
“You and Lestat.”
I shook my head.
“Shame.”
I wanted to close my eyes again, but I couldn’t look away from theirs.
Nicolas appeared behind Armand and hunched over to say something into their ear. Armand shook their head and said something I couldn’t make out. Nicolas turned back into the crowd and I saw Lestat was trailing behind him.
“Lestat!” I shouted, but he was already gone. Anger surged and seared deep in my chest. I moved to go after him and Armand stepped into my path, put their hand on my shoulder.
“It’s alright, Louis. They’re getting us drinks. They won’t leave without us.”
Their words seemed to cut through the loud music and the other shouting voices. Like the voice of a well-trained actor on a stage, projected to the furthest corner of the theater. Directly into my mind, it seemed.
“You’re having fun, aren’t you?” They rested their hand on my sternum. “Don’t let Lestat ruin it for you.”
I tore my gaze away from the place where my husband had been and met Armand’s intense stare. They moved their hand up to my cheek.
“Trust me, Louis.”
I did.
I closed my eyes, had just enough time to begin to lose myself in the music when someone shouted “Hey!” directly into my ear.
“Sorry,” Nicolas said in response to my startled flinch. “Here.” He handed Armand and I two shots each of something clear and strong, miraculously still mostly full after their voyage from the bar. I downed them before I could think better of it, handed the empties back as Armand did the same. Nicolas raised the stacked glasses in a belated toast as he left.
The next vaguely sinister synthesized beat began throbbing inside me. Armand unzipped my sweatshirt while we danced.
“I’m gay,” I said, stopping their hand half way down.
“I’m queer,” they said. “You’re monogamous.” They flicked playfully at the zipper. “And you must be getting warm in this.”
I felt my face flush at the misunderstanding and nodded. They unzipped me fully and I shrugged out of the hoodie and draped it over one shoulder. I couldn’t suppress the anxious urge to clarify.
“I only meant I-”
“You like cock,” Armand said.
Someone laughed nearby. I was starting to sweat.
“To put it bluntly,” I said, hating that we had to shout every word.
“What makes you so sure I don’t have one?”
I had no response.
“We’re just dancing, Louis.” They draped their arms over my shoulders, moved in closer. “Relax.”
I had almost managed to do so when a flash of golden hair amidst the mass of dyed black and purple and cherry red heads caught my attention. Lestat had reappeared off to my right. I watched through the shifting layers of bodies as Nicolas held something up between them, something small in his hand, attached to the necklace he wore. Lestat lowered his face to it, cupped a hand over his nose and inhaled. He did a double-take when he saw me watching, said something to Nicolas and made his way over.
“Hey, you doing ok?” Lestat asked.
“Fine.”
“It’s just poppers, Lou,” he said in response to my cold look. “C’mon, I thought you wanted to have fun?” He laughed suddenly, involuntarily, the mild euphoria kicking in. “This was your idea, babe. Lighten up.”
“You want a hit?” Nicolas appeared over Lestat’s shoulder, held out the small bottle on its chain. “No? I can get something with more of a kick to it, if you want, or- Hey!”
I had grabbed the bottle and brought it to my nose, which forced Nicolas into an awkward hunch. I inhaled sharply and it all felt a bit better, a bit warmer. My head started to swim as I twisted the cap back on so I opened my eyes.
“You’re welcome,” Nicolas said, rubbing at his neck where the chain had dug in.
“Thanks,” I said. His five-o-clock shadow stood out starkly on his jaw in the strobe lights. The smell of smoke had shed some of its edge. This close it blended with the rest of him and had more depth. For the first time I caught a hint of clove and wondered when he had smoked one. His eyes were dark, nearly black. His lips full.
“ You sure you’re-”
I kissed Lestat to shut him up. I pushed him away when his hand went for my waist. I turned around, found Armand.
“I need another drink,” I said.
She led me back to the bar.
Sometime after the next couple shots is when I started losing time. Armand and I were back on the dance floor. I was watching Lestat and Nicolas, a few yards away, dancing close, brows almost touching. Nicolas whispered in Lestat’s ear, maybe kissed his neck, I couldn’t quite tell. Lestat craned his head back, eyes closed, smiling. I felt Armand’s cool touch on my cheek, turning my head, making me meet their intense gaze. I was quite drunk by then. I slipped my hand between us as we danced and squeezed the modestly sized bulge in their tight black jeans.
“I thought you weren’t open,” they said.
“We’re just dancing.” After a moment I added, “Is it real?”
“ Let’s find out,” she said before she kissed me.
My mouth was dry and I was clumsy from the gin and vodka , but even so it warmed me. She pressed my hand firmly, encouraged my drunken groping.
“ You’re not getting hard.”
“Maybe you’re not trying hard enough.” She shifted her phone in her free hand to type something out with her thumb.
“Did you take a picture?”
“No, Louis.”
“Good. Don’t take any pictures.” I was beginning to slur my words.
“I won’t, Louis. Kiss me again.”
I’ve lost what happened then. The next thing I remember is Nicolas reappearing, offering another drink or shots, I’m not sure which. There are a few flashes of Lestat, of him talking, I think I was upset with him again. The next thing I can recall clearly is vomiting into a toilet. The floor was sticky under my palm and the room spun around me between heaves. I was alone, and then Lestat was there. He came into the stall and knelt beside me. He rubbed my back while I finished. He helped me to a sink and helped me clean up and then he must have helped me into a cab, but I don’t remember. The rest is gone.
---
I don’t think Lestat knows I kissed her.
“ Here,” he said as he handed me one of the sports drinks he had gone out to get for us.
It was still cold. I held it against my forehead for a minute before I took a sip. It was almost noon and we were still in bed, waiting on room service.
“ Pass me a water, too,” I whispered. Talking any louder made the pounding in my head worse. When I took the bottle I noticed the faint bloom of a hickey peeking out from the collar of his t-shirt. There was a knock at the door and he rolled out of bed again.
“How can you walk without-” I stopped short when the smell of the eggs hit and almost made me act out the end of the sentence instead.
“ I didn’t say yes every time Nicki offered to buy another round,” Lestat muttered as he brought the tray to the bed. I firmly declined the omelet he offered and spread some butter on a piece of bread instead.
“What time are the reservations for tonight?” I asked.
“Seven.”
I sighed, nodded. “ Good. I should be human again by then.”
I studied him as he ate. No surreptitious glances, no undertone of resentment I could detect, just a bit of tension, which was to be expected. I put my hand on his thigh.
“ Sorry, love,” I said quietly.
He looked at me as he chewed. He closed his eyes and nodded, put his hand over mine.
I tossed my bread onto the tray and hugged him, tucked my head under his chin. He made a small frustrated noise and set his plate down so he could hold me.
“ What is it, Lou? What’s wrong?” I heard the impatience in his voice, subtle as it was.
I wanted to tell him. I wanted to confess to everything I could remember, every kiss and caress. It was a lump in my throat. I saw Armand’s face when I squeezed my eyes shut, those unsettling amber eyes. I heard their voice, soft and close in the cool dark:
“ It was during their relationship, toward the end. The three of us. Only once.”
I swallowed and opened my eyes.
“ Did you and Armand ever hook up?” I asked.
“Louis, c’mon.”
“ No, I don’t care.” I tried to sit up and got dizzy. I put my head in his lap instead. “ I’m not trying to start a fight. I just want to know.”
His stomach rose and fell next to me as he sighed. He started combing my hair with his fingers and my scalp tingled pleasantly.
“ No, we never did,” he said.
“ Ok,” I said. “Thank you.” My stomach turned and I groaned and blocked out the light with my arm. My phone rang and Lestat leaned over to answer it.
“Hi, Hélène. Yeah, we’ve got a minute, put her on. Babe, Claudia wants to talk before school.” He gently shook my shoulder.
“ Put her on speaker,” I said, and did my best not to sound as bad as I felt.