Page 15 of Eat Slay Love

He shrugged. “It’s complicated.”

“Uh. That’s one way to look at it.”

“You said you wouldn’t judge.”

“Hey. . .to each’s own.”

For some reason, he beamed. “Anyway, Alchemy is a big deal for a solo date. I’ve driven celebrities there—actors, musicians, even a couple of politicians. You’re in for a treat.”

I got more excited. “Cool. Now I’m getting even more hyped.”

We continued our journey, the rhythmic humming of the Phantom's engine and the soft jazz music almost lulling me into a dreamlike state.

I watched as the cityscape shifted and changed, from the glow of Times Square to the less ostentatious but just as beautiful brownstones that lined the side streets.

Our conversation ebbed and flowed into a comfortable chatter between strangers sharing a unique moment.

The whole time Dalvin guided the car through the pulse of Manhattan’s streets, weaving between steel giants and glass reflections until we arrived at a place that felt like it existed outside of this reality.

Oh wow. Is this it?

Looming before us, bathed in the amber glow of NYC’s heartbeat, was an imposing building—an architectural paradox of old-world grandeur and modern elegance.

And then, the doors.

Two massive black monoliths, each twenty feet high and five feet wide, stood like guards at the threshold of something sacred.

Like. . .seriously. . .the doors didn’t need to be that big—no earthly function required them to be—but that was the point.

They were theatrical.

An enticing declaration.

An endearing invitation.

They looked like they would swing open to reveal an enchanted kingdom—a realm where unseen forces wove possibility into reality.

Where the lost could be found.

Where the ordinary could be touched by the extraordinary.

Dalvin parked in front and got out.

When he came over to me and opened the door, I hesitated for a moment.

Not out of fear, but out of awe.

Above those doors, a single word shimmered in gold, carved with the confidence of something eternal:

Alchemy.

I let out a long sigh and left the car, saying the name in my head.

Alchemy.

This was a word steeped in ancient longing, in the dreams of those who once sought to transmute lead into gold.

Mortality into immortality.

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