“What is she doing?”
From across the club, a stocky man hid in the shadows. He stood behind a set of curtains as he spied on his ex-girlfriend. His balcony was in the opposite corner from hers. He didn’t have the greatest view, but he could see her hanging on the rail. She sipped on a margarita, waving at the crowd below.
“That is not the Aliyah I dated.”
The ice clattered in his drink. He nursed a dirty martini, stirring it with his straw. The ring on his pinky finger clinked against the glass. His hair was blond and messy, styled to fit his big face. He wore a sports jacket with the sleeves rolled up to show off his watch. The diamonds glittered in the light.
Along the upper floor, the Dome had eight VIP balconies. They surrounded the stage in a C-shape with privacy walls between. A set of velvet curtains adorned each. Drawn and tied to the sides, they hung in ornate arches that cinched in the middle then fell to the floor.
“Are you seeing this?” he asked his buddy.
A dark man leaned on the rail beside him. He brooded and scrolled through his phone like he had something better to do. The two men weren’t close friends, but they both enjoyed Aja’s music. The second worked in modeling. He was tall and built with an impressive afro. A pink hair-pick stuck out of the side. His suitcoat strained against his arms.
“I know Aliyah likes to party,” the first said, finishing his martini, “But I couldn’t even get her to dance. She’s over there working that rail like a pole.”
His buddy turned his head. “Aliyah? You talking about your ex?”
“I wonder if she got work,” he said to himself, poking at the ice in his drink, “I bumped into last week. I heard she’s been out awhile. Maybe she got something.” With his straw, he dug out an olive and tossed it into his mouth. “I know that’s why she dated me. She wanted a part in that slasher flick I was doing.”
“That slasher flick? Wasn’t that your dad’s project?”
“Yeah. But still. She was always bothering me about it.”
His buddy raised a brow. “Wait, didn’t you cheat on her?”
He scoffed. “Yeah, but that’s because she wouldn’t stop bothering me about my dad.”
Over the speakers, the DJ shouted for everybody to freeze. He shut off the lights and cut the music until the bass dropped. Fog billowed from the ceiling. An airhorn sounded. As the crowd erupted, the man with the martini grimaced.
“I hate that part. Like, why freeze? Don’t you die?”
His ex was no longer by the rail when the lights turned back on. He peeked around the curtain, but her privacy wall blocked his view. He hurried across the balcony for a better angle. His buddy was slow to follow.
“What are you doing?”
“It’s Aliyah.” He ducked behind the other set of curtains. “She’s with someone. Might be a new guy.”
“Okay? Why do you care?”
“I don’t. The woman just fascinates me. She’s so private, like, what’s she hiding?”
His buddy leaned against the rail like before. “Not gonna lie, man, I didn’t take you as a fanboy.”
“I’m not!”
With a leer, the man dug out another olive. He thought about eating it but threw it at his buddy instead. The small fruit buried itself in his afro. The juices seeped onto his head.
He yelped. “Did you just throw something at me?” He patted his hair, feeling for where it hit. “Not cool, Brian. Was that an olive?”
He stomped off before losing his cool.
Across the balcony, Aliyah and her new guy cozied up on a sofa. He looked young. He had his arm around her while they were taking pictures. Brian couldn’t believe it. Aliyah hated selfies.
A woman from the waitstaff soon stopped by. Her uniform twinkled under the lights. On her shoulder, she balanced a tray of colorful drinks. The rims were all garnished with lemon wedges, mint leaves, or salt. Brian switched his martini for another.
“Is tonight twenty-one plus?” he asked her.
“That’s correct. We’re always twenty-one plus, except for weddings.”
“That’s what I thought.”
His buddy returned after the server left. He held a crumpled napkin against his neck and fixed his afro with his hair-pick.
“Where’s my drink?” he asked, checking the tables around them, “Oh man, you didn’t grab it, did you?”
Brian shook his head.
“Come on, man.” He stomped off again. “Do better.”
On Aliyah’s balcony, her manager walked into view. She stood beside the sofa and towered over the couple. They nearly snuggled. She seemed irritated, like she was going to rip them apart. Brian was hoping to see a fight. He spit up his drink when she simply walked away.
“Incredible. Even Tiffany’s cool with him? Who is this guy?”
His buddy came back with a whiskey lemonade.
“You still creeping?” he asked, “Could you at least tell me if you see Aja? I heard she rolls with Aliyah. I’m trying to catch her before she goes on stage.”
Brian glared at his buddy. “Who’s the fanboy now?”
The two jeered at one another.
While they exchanged scowls, Aja stepped out from behind the privacy wall. She hopped over the back of the sofa and included herself in the pictures. They all squeezed together like besties.
Brian coughed up his drink. The straw fell from his mouth. “Speak of the Devil,” he mumbled, “Even Aja’s hanging on him.”
He backed away from the curtain after that. He’d seen enough and figured his buddy would want the spot. He was right. The bulky man spilled his drink lumbering into the corner.
“I gotta talk to this guy.” Brian clinked his ring against his glass. “Bump into him or something.”
“That does not sound like a good idea. Remember last time?”
“I was drunk last time,” he said, sucking down his third martini, “This is different. I can be civil. Besides, with the way Aliyah goes through guys, maybe I should warn him.”
The ice clattered in his drink. He dug out his last olive to toss it into his mouth. He threw it like a piece of popcorn.
He missed.
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