Chapter 2
“I didn’t even know they opened the bars this early…” Pepper mumbled as I downed my second shot at a downtown pub.
“It’s for the festival…” I murmur in turn, starting to feel the alcohol affecting me.
Pepper raises a brow as she looks down at me, the corners of her lips curling downward reproachfully. “Are you sure you wanna be drinking that much?”
I shake my head briskly. “Oof—don’t worry about it, let’s just…” I plop my finger down on the glossy wooden counter, wincing as it comes down with a greater force than I’d anticipated. “Let’s go over the plan again, okay?”
“Okay,” she nods. “So you’re going to keep your people down near central park, and I’ll keep my people up near the stage.”
“Mugh,” I give her a look of disdain. “Why do you get to watch the show?”
“Because we’re VIP’s, remember?”
“Yeah—two years ago, you were.”
“Bottom line is, if you want to avoid us, avoid Columbus Circle like the plague until at least five o’clock—got it?”
“Got it.”
“Are you sure you’re going to be able to convince them not to come to the show?”
“Yup—‘Nother round, please,” I pause, turning and gesturing to the bartender. “But yeah, there’s usually some other little stuff going on in Central Park, I’ll just tell them it’s packed and we’ll go there instead.”
“Shame you won’t see Thor, either,” Pepper says.
“Yeah,” I mumble, recalling his perky smile and big hugs. “I know, I miss that guy…”
“Yeah, so does he,” she pauses. “They asked about you, you know.”
I raise a brow at her. “They both did? Or just Loki?”
“Well, Thor… he started it, and then Loki asked if you were still living at the apartment.”
“What’d you tell them?”
Pepper shrugs. “Told ‘em you were doing great, still living there with a bunch of new roommates. Three girls and a guy,” she smirks, raising her mojito to her lips. “You shoulda seen Loki’s face,” she mumbles against the glass.
“What, did he look pissed?”
She crinkles her brow sarcastically. “It looked more like his balls froze, and the rest of his body froze with them. He didn’t look pissed, if you know what I mean, he didn’t look like he was thinking or feeling much at all for like, two seconds.”
“Oh yeah, I know what you mean,” I chuckle at the image of Loki, in his endless pursuit of appearing calm, being rendered frozen by the news of my gay roommate.
Thankfully, the alcohol stifles whatever remnants of personal satisfaction that might’ve risen from this information—at least, I think it’s the alcohol. Certainly it’s possible, and all the more likely, that I’ve simply moved on, and the idea of Loki’s jealousy doesn’t affect me anymore.
Back when things first ended, the bitterness of how he left things was especially helpful in achieving that, along with helping to throw my inner walls up against it. Somehow, I think that was intentional on his part, and I’ll always be tacitly, objectively grateful to him for that.
“Cool,” I say, taking the final shot as the bartender slides it over to me, taking my card in exchange. “Alright, we should get going.”
“Sure,” Pepper says, rising from her chair as I do. “Remember—you go north, I’ll go south.”
A glimmer of humor tickles my chest, and I murmur suggestively. “Yeah you will,” I chuckle, throwing my coat on.
“Oh, God,” Pepper cringes. The expression rouses a giggle, which grows quickly into a hearty laugh as she stares at me intently. “Seriously? Since when can you not handle three shots? How am I supposed to leave you like this?”
I shake my head as we walk out the door. “No, dude, I feel fine—it’s just ‘cause I took them all so quickly. I’m honestly just tipsy. Besides, remember Mardi Gras? I got across town just fine! And I’m only meeting them two blocks down, you’re going further than I am,” I point in the opposite direction, nearly whacking her in the face. She stumbles back as I pivot on my heel.
“Okay, fine,” she says, looking up at the bright, midday clouds blanketing the sky. “The streets are closed to cars anyway, just… Can you text me when you find your friends? And remember, don’t go south.”
I nod. “I promise I won’t go south…’til I get home,” I wave a hand as my voice drops low, and she levels a flat stare at me.
Pepper makes a face. “Okay, no—nope,” she interjects laughingly. “Don’t need to hear about that.”
“Alright, well sayanara then,” I salut her as I turn to head down the street.
“See ya!” she calls out to me as she makes off in the opposite direction.
***
I figured it wouldn’t be hard to convince the others to go to Central Park. The festival grows bigger and bigger every year, and I’ve never seen this many people crowded around in one place before—the fact that I live in New York and say that, is saying a lot. Central Park would be a relief.
Not to say that that’s a comment on the festival itself, of course. There’s music everywhere, and the streets are lined with decorations and food stands on every single corner… Plus, whoever plans the festival must also hire a meteorologist every year, because the occasion always falls on a cloudy day in the middle of rainy season.
Despite the grayness of the sky, the atmosphere just couldn’t be lighter—couldn’t possibly scream happiness and merriment. Remembrance? Not so much. Though that’s hardly an issue crossing my mind as I drunkenly chow down on my burrito, along with Michael, my roommates, and Rita’s latest love interest perusing various topics of conversation around me.
“I think the show started at like, four?” Janie says, pointing to some vague direction behind her. “If we leave now, we can make it there in like, thirty minutes…”
“No, no,” I shake my head, nearly spitting out a few chunks of chewed up burrito while I’m at it. “We should go to Central Park, they have other stuff, and… whatnot…” I stumble slightly, and take another massive bite of the corndog.
I hadn’t worried much about keeping my buzz going throughout the day, but the last two beers I had an hour ago may have been too close together, and I’ve already got a third in my hand waiting to be drunk…
“Dude, Central Park’s closed,” Lalita says, and my brows rise slowly as I stare at her mid-chew—mouth bulging a bit from the giant bite.
I level a stare at her. “What?” I muffle the word.
She shakes her head. “Yeah, they closed it this year because of all the rain, it’s super muddy.”
“Oh.” I let out, with my mouth still full. I blink down at the ground, and Michael lays a hand on my shoulder as I quickly chew and swallow my food.
“Why, what’s up?” he asks, trying to stifle a drunk grin with a concerted look.
I shake my head as I look up at him. “Nothing, I just thought we’d check this year.”
“So let’s just go dance instead, yeeeeeaaaah!?” Janie squeals—Jesus, her voice gets high when she’s drunk.
I glance around the group, noting the fervent consensus arising in their expressions. Save for Rita, who turns to her boy toy, Ryan, with a grin and mumbles something. By the way that both their faces light up, I surmise that he’s equally agreeable to go and dance with the rest of us.
It’ll be four thirty when we get there… Only thirty minutes before they get up to leave, but I suppose, if this year’s show is anything like the past couple of years, there’ll be several rows of chairs in front of the stage, and we’ll probably end up standing way in the back—the stage will barely be visible. And so will we.
Sat, 4:02 PM/Cerys: “Pep, CP’s closed…… They wanna go to the show”
Thank goodness for autocorrect.
Moments later, my phone buzzes:
Sat, 4:07 PM/Pepper: “Damn it… Ok”
Sat, 4:08 PM/Cerys: “Is Loki with you guys?”
Sat, 4:10 PM/Pepper: “Yes”
My lips thin into a straight line, and a sense of dread bleeds through the otherwise numbing feeling of intoxication.
Sat, 4:12 PM/Cerys: “VIP?”
Sat, 4:13 PM/Pepper: “Yeah…”
Sat, 4:13 PM/Pepper: “Next to me, text me so he doesn’t see his name”
Sat, 4:14 PM/Cerys: “lol”
Sat, 4:14 PM/Pepper: “lol”
Sat, 4:15 PM/Cerys: “lol”
Sat, 4:15 PM/Pepper: “lol”
Sat, 4:15 PM/Pepper: “Okay that’s good, text me when you’re here”
Sat, 4:19 PM/Cerys: “Ten mins”
Ten minutes fly by, and we still find ourselves a ways away from the stage—at least my guess was right in that regard. There’s no way we’re getting any closer.
The music blares against the tall buildings surrounding us, and I can imagine just how they’re dancing to the beat on stage. Michael and the others can too—made clear by the way they’re bobbing all around me to the beat. At least the sheer number of people surrounding us on all sides calms my nerves a bit, since the likelihood of running into one single person among so many is low.
They die down further and further as my resolve slowly fizzles away, and I slowly sway and dance through the rest of the show—onward with more enthusiasm, after a DJ takes over the stage and keeps the party going. The alcohol is still very much in my system, but the levels are low enough for me to keep my composure at least, and dance coherently.
Judging by how quickly my legs begin to tire, I’d wager to guess that nearly an hour goes by before the crowds begin to disperse. The area is still comparatively dense, compared to how it normally is, but it allows a bit more room for us to jump around a bit more to the music. Pepper had said to avoid the area until five o’clock, and considering the fact that the show ended quite some time ago, we seem to be in the clear.
After some short time, the sky begins to darken slightly, and the announcement comes on that the last song of the day is about to play. Having topped off my final beer for the night, I cheer happily along with my roommates as an upbeat tune comes on to close the occasion.
“Wait a minute!” I turn to Michael, settling down from hopping about to the music. The others go on dancing around us, but Michael turns and grabs my shoulder as he peers down at me—eyes widened and glazed over with the same realization that struck me the minute that the song came on. “This is Saxobeat!” I yell over the rowdiness of the crowd.
“Yeah, it’s Saxobeat!!!” he exclaims.
“OH MY GOD!” I laugh, glancing between him and my oblivious roommates dancing about to my left.
I choreographed a number for him and two other dancers—Jake and Brian—to this song. It wasn’t how we ‘met,’ per say, but it was how we became acquainted.
“Do you still remember the moves!?!”
“Babe, do you remember how many times we practiced that!?!” he laughs. “Seriously, do you remember!?” I glance down at his arms as he brings them up to my sides in a way that mimics the choreography slightly as he steps toward me.
I double over laughing at his amusing display of half-dancing, half-cornucopia-of-embarrasing-movements—is this supposed to be his way of goading me into dancing with him?
“Oh my GOD, you fucking nerd!” My cheeks redden and I throw my hands up over them as I turn away, looking back at him and laughing amusedly as I question what mind I was in when I decided he was a sane enough human being to date.
I push away from him slightly, but tears well up in my eyes as Andy suddenly butts into the ‘dancing,’ and Michael joins in the laughter as he visibly simplifies the moves—allowing Andy, and then Rita, Ryan and Janie to join in on it. Lalita goes on doing her thing beside us, and the sheer enjoyment in the atmosphere—the smiling, laughing faces and stupidly drunk dancing—finally topples me over the edge.
Ignoring the buzzing sensation in my pocket, I give in to my boyfriend’s and roommates’ outward display of drunkenness, and start dancing along to the moves with Michael—feeling my heart pump, my body perspire, and adrenaline pump through my excited limbs.
As Michael returns some of the sophistication to his dancing, some people around us notice what’s going on behind them, and a small space opens up around us. No one turns to watch, save for an equally drunk couple somewhere off to the right, and my roommates cheer as Michael and I drunkenly play out the choreography with vague synchronicity—to the best of our ability, in this state.
We fall together in a mini-group hug momentarily when it’s all over, and I finally pull out my phone to check my texts.
Sat, 6:02 PM/Pepper: “They opened up the roads, we’re going up Broadway”
Sat, 6:05 PM/Pepper: “Scratch that, car’s on 60th back”
Sat, 6:05 PM/Pepper: “Keep away XXX”
‘Car’s on 60th back?’ I eye the screen confusedly. “The fuck’s that mean…?” I murmur quietly to myself.
Last I looked at a street sign, I saw the numbers 5-8. I haven’t the patience to text in my intoxicated state, so I call Pepper to discretely let her know that we’re probably heading toward 59th.
“Hello?” she answers.
“Pep?” I yell drunkenly into the phone, leaning against Michael as he drapes his arm over my shoulder, and the others tug us this way and that. “We’re going to 59th! What do you mean 60th back!?”
She pauses for a moment. “Did you say 59th?”
“Yeah we’re in that green-y grassy area, so we’re just gonna cross the street now and-”
“No, that’s not-” her voice drowns out as we pass along a particularly noisy portion of the crowd.
“What!?” I exclaim as we tread closer to the edge of the sidewalk.
The group stops as a number of cars pass along the the road, and I glance around the area. My head spins a bit as I narrow my eyes at a familiar black SUV parked on the back corner of the street, to the right. While my roommates continue chattering around me, I barely have time to blink and process whether it’s a S.H.I.E.L.D vehicle, before Pepper’s beige coat appears from around the corner—still discernible in the faint grey ambiance of the evening.
I nearly stumble as several more figures appear behind her, taking in a sharp, icy breath of air as Loki’s form appears among them. Clad in dark pants and a long, black blazer coat, he strides out beside Thor and Tony, along with some of my colleagues from S.H.I.E.L.D—clearly off duty, judging by their casual apparel.
Pepper gives me a not-so-subtle double take as soon as she sees me. I instantly press my lips together as it prompts Tony’s inner dramatic-ass to turn his head demonstrably in our direction, all while saying something clearly audible to the group, that makes Pepper’s eyes bolt open with panic.
“Shit,” I hear Pepper’s voice over the speaker, and Tony clenches his teeth, eyes widening as soon as he sees me and realizes what he’d started, but it’s too late—he’d caught Thor and Loki’s attention already.
With the phone still pressed to my ear, I stare at them as Tony and Thor scan the group intently. Loki glances at Thor before turning his head in our direction—brows quirked upward in a bored expression. My breath hitches in my throat as a familiar green tint flashes over me, and I hold Loki’s gaze for half a second before his eyes flicker uninterestedly toward Michael, and he blinks back down at the car without so much as a flinch.
Even from here, I can see Pepper’s cheeks flush a little as Loki steps past her, sparing a knowing look and uttering something brief as he slides into the car.
We stare at each other for a few seconds, as I lower my chin suspiciously. “What’d he say?”
She knits her brows together, her shoulders slumping a bit. “‘Hello, Cerys.’”