Page 5 of We Could Be Heroes

You will NEVER believe who just walked in.

Chapter 3

Patrick followed Audra from the foyer of the Grand Hotel onto the street, where their driver Mo waited. The Grand was a beautiful place to stay at first, but even after a couple of days, it was hard not to feel like zoo animals with very enriched enclosures. Sometimes you just had to give in to the call of the wild.

As they climbed into the backseat, Mo asked, “Where to?”

Patrick was slamming the door behind him when from outside, they heard a faint “Hold up!”

He rolled down the window to find Hector on the sidewalk outside the hotel. It was maybe the first time he’d ever seen him wearing something other than fitted gym gear; the buttons of a crisp Ralph Lauren shirt strained to conceal his sculpted chest.

“I heard y’all were going out,” Hector said.

“Where did you hear that, exactly?” Audra asked, her eyes narrowing. Patrick felt a vicarious chill as her gaze passed him on its way to Hector. I bet even her teachers in high school were terrified of her, he thought.

“My bad!” Corey gamboled into view. “So I may have told Hector that we were going dancing.”

“Who told you?” Audra demanded. The studio was able to keep every single thing that happened on a Wonderverse set secret from the rest of the world, but inside the bubble, it was a different matter entirely. Gossip traveled faster than light when you had nothing else to do all day.

“And I figured,” Hector said to Patrick, “that if you’re hitting the town, risking being late for tomorrow’s workout—”

“Don’t forget the macros,” Corey interjected.

“Not to mention throwing off your macros and intermittent fasting,” Hector continued, “then I should probably come along to make sure you don’t irreparably undo all of that progress we’ve made on Captain Kismet’s physique.”

Patrick felt a pang of guilt. His body, he had to remember, didn’t exactly belong to him. At least, not for as long as they were filming. The shooting schedule, not to mention both Hector and Corey’s livelihoods, depended on his ability to stay disciplined and consistent.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Maybe I should go back upstairs.” He’d been Mr. Sensible for the last six months of training. What was one more night? A dozen more nights?

“No fucking way,” Audra barked, at the same time that Hector said, more measuredly, “Well, there’s no need to be too restrictive…”

He stared intently at Patrick, as if even glancing at Audra would turn him to stone, and it clicked. The poor man, Patrick realized, was down bad.

“Oh, for god’s sake,” Audra huffed. “If you guys wanted to come along, all you had to do was ask.” Patrick opened the door, and Hector and Corey piled into the SUV.

“And you don’t have to worry,” Patrick added. “I’m not planning on drinking tonight.”

“Loser,” Audra remarked, then threw her head back and crowed like a bird, prompting much whooping and woo-hooing from her compatriots in the backseat, until Mo asked them again for their destination, and they realized they had no idea where to go.

“Downtown?” Corey ventured.

“Dancing,” Audra asserted. “Take us to the dancing.”

“You got it,” said Mo, and they were on their way. Just ten minutes later—Patrick would never get over what passed for “traffic” in this town!—they pulled up somewhere called Broad Street.

“I don’t believe it,” Audra said, pointing out the window at the glittering signage of Coyote Ugly. “That was my favorite movie as a kid. We have got to go in.”

“I’m not so sure,” Patrick countered, reaching over and adjusting Audra’s head slightly, so that she was now looking at the two women attempting to scalp each other on the pavement outside.

“OK, fine.” Audra huffed as Mo performed a U-turn. “What about that place?” They all looked to the right, where, through the open doors of Popworld, Robyn demanded somebody show her love. Patrick was about to concede when a woman was forcibly ejected from the very same doors by a bouncer, vomit visible on her shirt.

“It’s eight thirty,” Corey said in something akin to wonder.

“This city is a horror show,” Audra finally agreed. “Excuse me, sir? Is there anywhere else you could take us? You know, that’s less…this?”

“One moment,” Mo said, and with patience that bordered on the saintly, he parked in a lay-by and took out his phone. Several minutes later, after consulting with his younger cousin over WhatsApp, he restarted the engine and they were on their way again.

“This is grody as shit,” Audra muttered, taking in the chipped paint of the building that Mo deposited them outside. “The Village Inn? It’s giving Wicker Man.” The uncertainty on her face looked like it might teeter over into outright disgust, but then the unmistakable opening melody of “We Found Love” issued like a clarion call from inside.

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