Mikaela is in town for Halloween, although she seems to be mostly glued to Lucia. They’ve co-designed a couple’s costume and made them separately. Lucia is Morticia Addams, her hair is smooth and straightened, hitting the top of her ass. Her dress is gorgeous, the quintessential Morticia silhouette but with little touches of Vanski flair.
Mikaela makes Sawyer weak with laughter every time she looks at her. She’s Gomez, her thick eyelashes and dramatic eye shadow sitting above a ridiculous, pencil-thin moustache that frames her dimples perfectly. Mikaela had explained the brilliance of her idea over the phone to Sawyer, how she was going to ape the Latinx stereotypes even further. She’s made herself a black velvet matador jacket, with black lace brocade. There’s something compelling about the way the tapered jacket hugs Mikaela’s petite body perfectly, cuts her narrow waist at just the right point.
Sawyer is working her way through the Halloween themed cocktail menu, and Mikaela insists that they share a “Frankenstein’s lab” themed rack of shots served in test tubes over dry ice.
They dance together for a while, until the room starts to spin.
She makes her way to the restrooms to splash a bit of water on her face. It suddenly seems like a lot of alcohol when she’s been working all day and hasn’t had any breaks. She holds on to the sink and wishes she was wearing a looser dress. The pressure of the latex around her middle is making her want to be sick. She wants to step out of her shoes but she knows that once she does, the pain will be so bad she won't want to put them back on again.
In the mirror Sawyer sees the tall, thin figure of Lucia Vanski leaning elegantly against the side of the cubicle behind her. Sawyer's eyes can barely focus but she thinks she's making eye contact with Lucia in the glass.
“Sawyer, you alright?”
“Yeah, just thinking that I should slow down. I like your lipstick. You look great.”
Lucia grins and puts her arm gently around Sawyer’s shoulders, "Let's go and get Natasha and Mikaela."
"How does it work?" Sawyer blurts.
"What, walking? Just one foot in front of the other, mostly."
"No, I mean - You and her. Neither of you ever shut up. You both always think you're right -"
"Whereas you and Natasha are both so meek, passive and uncomplicated," Lucia smiles indulgently.
"But how does it work? Natasha's told me about you,” Sawyer points her finger in Lucia's face, "I know about your dancing, and your bag of tricks, and about the time you tag teamed some fat, Big Pharma goth."
Lucia's lips quirk, "I'm guessing those weren't quite Natasha's words."
"But Mikaela used to bang on the wall whenever I convinced my ex to have a go at spanking me"
"Maybe it was the volume she had a problem with, rather than the act," Lucia suggests.
"No, Mikaela told me once that she thought anything kinky was for people that had become desensit-" Sawyer suddenly gains awareness of what she's saying and convinces herself to shut her mouth.
"Go on," Lucia says silkily.
"I just can't imagine-"
Lucia interrupts immediately, "No one's asking you to imagine. I wouldn't want to imagine you, tallest power bottom in history, going at it with Natasha, world’s most flexible junkie."
Sawyer pushes Lucia’s shoulder on impulse, “Don’t use that word!”
She wants to make herself clear but her lips feel sloppy and slow, her tongue like a block of wood in her mouth. Sawyer retracts her arm with the intention to shove Lucia again. She’ll do it harder this time.
Lucia’s hand shoots out and catches Sawyer’s wrist in mid-air.
She gives Sawyer a firm stare as she says, “Calm down, yeah?”
“I just don’t like that word,” Sawyer mumbles.
“I know, I’m sorry,” says Lucia, brushing Sawyer’s stringy hair out of her eyes. She rests her forehead against Sawyer’s, “I can’t believe you’re still getting yourself into these messes. You’re almost thirty! Sometimes I hear people talk about gay rights and I think of you and I’m like, some people shouldn’t have rights.”
Sawyer huffs, “That’s my joke.”
Sawyer hears a familiar drum beat thumping through the floor and Kate Bush’s vocal floating from outside the door to the restroom.
“This is Natasha’s song!” shouts Lucia, “Let’s go laugh at her dancing.”
Sawyer nods and links arms with Lucia, leaning into her slightly for support.
Lucia pulls open the door to the restrooms and then pauses. As Sawyer takes a step towards the door, Lucia leans in close to Sawyer’s ear and whispers, “I love Mikaela, and it scares the shit out of me.”
Inevitably, there’s an argument. Sawyer hears Natasha on the phone to Lucia late at night. There’s a piercing shrieking coming from the receiver. Sawyer’s seen Lucia cry quietly and gracefully, but she’s never heard her shriek like her heart is rending in two before.
Natasha makes wide eyes at Sawyer. It looks like it hurts to listen. Natasha wraps her hands around herself and balls her fists into her stomach.
Sawyer is calling by the Centre anyway but makes sure she leaves time for a chat with Lucia. Lucia is in Gillian’s office looking over resumes. She’s decided to employ someone else to run the cafe, freeing up her time to develop the theatre and cinema output. Her eyes are red rimmed, but her black hair is still pulled back in its high ponytail.
She tosses a pile
