Millennial Night
A group of friends eat dinner at a restaurant in a trendy neighborhood while a highway overpass hums above them. They eat dollar tacos and drink craft beer under faux vintage string lights, and the crisp spring night has whipped them into high spirits. Jose, their ring leader, sits across from an old friend, Michelle. Two of Jose’s other friends from work are there as well, but they’ll fade away before the group makes it to their next spot. So don’t worry about them.
Worry about the two coming in now. Here’s Hiran, a slight, mild-mannered young chiropractor. Tonight, he’s unusually excited. At his side is Kelly. She’s the type of vaguely bohemian white girl with cool slouches and mischievous grins. Trouble sparks off her eyelashes when she bats them at Hiran; it sizzles from her American blonde hair when she swings it over her shoulder. Hiran introduces Kelly to the group.
“It’s so crazy!” he gushes, while Kelly smiles at him. “We met on Tinder last night, and we’ve been hanging out all day since.”
“Great,” Jose says, “Glad you could join us.”
“There’s no way I want to be home right now anyway,” Kelly replies, draping her fringed jacket over her arm. “Dollar tacos is about all it takes to keep me out!”
“Well here,” Michelle welcomes her to a seat. “Do you want chicken, pork, or seitan to start?”
After eating, Jose, Michelle, Hiran, and Kelly walk under the overpass to their next destination. It’s still early, and the light of The Monaco sign flicks on as they approach. Everyone cheers. Monday night at The Monaco means Tiger Beats. Tiger Beats means guaranteed, non-stop obscure indie dance music. Oh, and Monday night at The Monaco also means open bar from ten to eleven with a three dollar cover charge. Who even does that?
“Tonight’s gonna be a rager!” Jose says, skipping up the street.
Hiran orders a Monaco Punch for Kelly. The drinks board declares it “rum & stuff!” Even though the floor is empty, the lights and music are going full throttle. Hiran takes Kelly’s hand and leads her onto the dance floor. They dance, joined by Michelle and Jose. All are goofy and playful and just warming up.
A few drinks later, dancing again, Kelly leans over and shouts into Michelle’s ear over the music. “You have a great ass!”
Michelle raises an eyebrow. “Thanks!” she shouts back.
The place fills up, so that before long a mass of urban twenty-somethings crowds the bar, the dance floor, the cheesy photo booth that updates the shots to a slideshow on a tv above the bar. People spill into the street to mingle with the door staff and smoke Marlboro menthols. The traffic on the overpass hums along.
Hiran joins Jose at the bar, sloshing his drink as he clambers onto a bar stool. “Where’s Kelly?” His face is slightly crestfallen.
“No clue.” Jose looks around and shrugs. “You sure she wants to be found?” He takes his drink from the drag queen bartender and leads Hiran back to where he and Michelle have staked out a spot.
Meanwhile, Kelly sidles up to a dreadlocked man in a black Mickey Mouse t-shirt.
“I love Mickey Mouse!” she slurs at him.
They dance, then make out. She falls over for no reason and gets angry at him about it. Kelly leaves and finds the others in a corner.
“There you are!” she says. “I was looking all over for you!” Hiran’s relief is visible. She presses into his side, and he puts an arm around her waist.
“I couldn’t find you either,” he says to her. “Where’d you go?”
“Oh, I was just talking to some guy.” She rolls her eyes and brushes her hand in the air. “He goes to my school.” After a pause, she declares, “I need another drink.”
Hiran nods and walks her to the bar, already pulling his wallet from his back pocket.
# # #
Later on, who knows how much later on, but around the time when the girls dance with themselves in front of the mirrored wall opposite the bar, making silly faces and taking ill-advised selfies splattered with blinding white camera flashes. The line for the tiny, overworked bathroom starts building, people jostling each other and checking their phones for pertinent updates.
Kelly is gone, too far gone. She knows it, but she can’t bring herself to care. Touch, oblivion, anonymity. Those are the things she needs. She throws back the rest of her vodka cranberry and laughs at the man next to her. Casper’s stringy, colorless hair is tied back in a low ponytail like a medieval minstrel. Fine black feathers festoon the shoulders of his cropped black leather jacket; they flutter with his animated gesticulations. Something androgynous, almost effeminate, and deeply sexual rolls off of him.
She doesn’t know where Hiran is, or how much time has passed since she lost everyone. The music pumps heavy through the air. She just knows Casper is flirting with her. His feathers break her heart. She wants to lose herself in him.
Chilly air buffets her cheeks. Kelly squints open her eyes and sees the grimy sidewalk, her black suede ankle boots clicking along. Her hand is in someone else’s hand, Casper’s. The street lights hurt after the close darkness of the club, and she tries to remember why they decided to leave or where they’re going. When she does, desire flairs up within her anew.
The gaggle of people outside the door parts ways to let them pass.
Casper wants her. He said so. And now she wants him too.
“You want to go somewhere?” he’d said. The words she’s waited for all night. Simple as that.
They navigate a corner, and Casper turns around, smiling and drunk. “You are so gorgeous,” he says. Everything seems quiet now that they’re outside.
He takes Kelly’s face in his hands and bends his lanky frame over her. She puts her hands on his hips, so slim, and she tilts her face up to his. His mouth is giving, seductive, just right. The taste of his PBR mingles with her own boozy taste. He staggers a bit and, perhaps by mistake, pushes her up against the concrete pillar behind them. They’re beneath the overpass, gravel underfoot. The pillars are painted with murals of a tropical jungle. Frozen macaws watch them impassively.
Who did she come here with? Why was she here again?
The moan escaping from Casper’s mouth feeds her. Kelly kisses him harder now, grinding her hips into him. She reaches her hands up around his neck, and his hands slide over her breasts, find her waist. His feathered shoulders tickle her wrists. His hair gathered at the base of his skull is surprisingly silky as she entwines her fingers in it.
Hiran. That poor boy. He’d never ask her anywhere. The thought lingers in her mind only a moment, then Casper grips her ass tightly, pulling her even closer. She feels his erection through his tight black skinny jeans. She wants him.
Their breathing comes heavier.
“Are you okay?” Casper asks in between kisses.
“Yes,” Kelly says, her voice firmer than her conviction.
She finds the button of his pants and strokes his cock. His fingers find his way inside her, up through the bottom of her skirt. He is gentle. She wants him. She wants him.
Kelly doesn’t let him take her underwear off, just moves it aside. She doesn’t let him kneel in front of her, although he tries. So instead, he turns her around and fucks her against the pillar. He rips the condom open with his teeth. A chain-link fence rattles in the wind, adding to the hum of cars racing sixty-five miles per hours above them. Kelly braces herself by placing both palms on the concrete, her forehead pressed next to a monkey peering out from behind a palm leaf.
# # #
Hiran rubs his arms against the chilly night air. Jose and Michelle should have met him outside by now. The faint beat of the music balloons in volume every time the door swings open. A hand claps him on the shoulder.
“Good lookin’ out,” says Jose in greeting. “Did you find your girl?”
“She’s not my girl,” Hiran says. “And no.”
“You don’t have a cigarette, do you?” Michelle asks.
Hiran notices movement across the street. Two silhouettes walking towards them. One belongs to Kelly. Who’s that feather-shouldered guy?
“Hey!” Kelly says, too brightly, hopping up the curb to them. “This is Casper.” Feather Shoulders nods and gives a sheepish wave at the group.
Is what Hiran thinks is happening actually happening right now?
“You have cigarettes!” Michelle exclaims, pointing to Casper’s hand. “Can I bum one?”
“Sure, darling.” Casper gets a cigarette from his jacket pocket. What the hell is this guy wearing? “But I just ran out of matches, unfortunately. Damn wind.”
“That’s ok.” Michelle places the cigarette between her lips and leans towards him. “I’ll just light it on yours.”
“Lovely,” Casper smiles, leaning in graciously. Michelle cups her hands around their mouths and puffs the tip of her cigarette against his to get it going. They share a laugh.
Hiran directs a pleading look in Jose’s direction. Jose clears his throat.
“Well, we’ve just called for a cab,” Jose says. “What is your plan?”
“I don’t think I can drive,” says Kelly. She turns to look behind her, where she’s parked her car down the street.
“My stuff is at your place,” says Hiran. Jesus Christ, his car is parked in her parent’s driveway in Litchfield, half an hour outside the city.
“Alright,” says Jose. “Well, you and Kelly can get a cab to go get your stuff. Here, I’ll call it for you.” Jose pulls out his phone and taps at it efficiently. Hiran tries helplessly to catch his eye.
“Which way are you going?” asks Casper.
“Towards Caldway,” says Michelle.
“My parents are out in Litchfield.” Kelly hugs herself and bends her knees slightly to ward off the cold.
“Perfect!” says Casper to Kelly. “Can I catch a ride with you out that way?”
“Sure,” she says.
A cab arrives on the opposite side of the street. Jose takes Michelle by the elbow to lead her towards it, but she jerks away petulantly to try to finish her cigarette. Hiran follows them, leaving Casper and Kelly on the sidewalk.
“Don’t fucking leave me with them! Don’t you see what’s going on? Can’t I crash at your place tonight and get my shit from her tomorrow?”
Jose spins around and shakes him slightly by the shoulders. “Yo. Don’t worry about it. You’re going home with her, right? Drop off that other fool and make it worth your extra effort!” He slaps Hiran’s cheek softly in encouragement. “You got it, big guy.” He raises one eyebrow at Hiran then jogs towards Michelle and the cab.
When Hiran turns around, Kelly and Casper are waiting for him. Their cab has just pulled up on the opposite side of the street.
“What was that about?” Michelle asks as Jose gets in the car.
“Dodged a bullet there. Hiran was trying to leave with us because that guy is getting with Kelly.”
“No way!” Michelle twists in her seat to look out the back window. “That sneaky girl… I knew she was trouble. Poor Hiran.”
“I told him to buck up.” Jose gives their direction to the driver.
Michelle continues watching as they drive off. Three silhouettes, walking towards the red brake lights of their cab, parked under an overpass.
