Page 100 of When I Picture You
Chloe’s expression puckered with outrage. “Yes, representation still matters. It would have meant the world to me to see someone like me, a Korean lesbian, making music. If I didn’t get to have that, I want to make sure every other little Korean girl does. Queer people in the public eye have that responsibility.”
“That sounds sort of political,” Lola said. She sounded so timid.
“Being queerispolitical.”
Queerwas a term Lola had never tried to apply to herself. It described the kind of person you chose to be, not just who you lusted after. What Chloe was talking about was more than simply coming out. It was obligation to community beyond oneself.
Tentatively, in her head, Lola tried the label on.I’m queer. But before she could sit with it, she was envisioning Gloriana’s reaction. The closest Lola Gray got to politics was events like last night’s gala against childhood hunger, which was about as uncontroversial as an issue could get.
Lola’s bodyguard interrupted them. A woman claiming to be Chloe’s girlfriend wanted to be let back. Chloe jumped out of her seat and introduced her. Vivy—the woman Lola had thought of as Butterfly Clips—wore a big, fannish smile.
“It’s lovely to see you again,” Lola said.
Vivy’s eyes went wide, but she turned them on Chloe. “Babe, did you hear that?Lola Gray remembered me.”
“Course she did, pretty girl,” Chloe said, her voice full of affection.
Right there, in view of the whole restaurant, Chloe pulled her girlfriend in for a kiss.
LATER, LOLA SIPPEDa vodka soda alone on the VIP mezzanine at Irving Plaza. Her drink was half-gone but it hadn’t quieted the nagging guilt that she’d put off talking to Gloriana. She could practically hear Gloriana asking why now, if bisexuality was an important addition to Lola’s public image or more of a private concern, what would happen when things fell apart with Renee and Lola moved on with a man. Lola had promised Renee that she would stand her ground, but already she felt like a little kid, begging to be listened to.
Coming out was already overwhelming, and she hadn’t even officially started it yet.
Lola’s gaze drifted over the crowd below. They hadn’t spotted her yet, but with hundreds of people on the floor, it was only a matter of time. The venue was packed with young women and non-binary people buzzing with excitement. It was obvious that these fans were obsessed with not just Saint Satin, but each other. They were checking each other out, taking selfies, stealing kisses from strangers who might be lovers by the night’s end. Lola wondered what it would feel like to be down there—to lose herself in the hot press of bodies.
There was a unique pain in witnessing someone else’s euphoria: rib-scraping loneliness and jealousy of watching the specific kind of joy that you longed for, and being unable to join in. It was the same feeling Lola had had watching Chloe at the Corkscrew after-party, like sparklers had been set off in her heart, but all they’d done was reveal how huge and lonesome the darkness there truly was.
Lola bit her lip. She would talk to Gloriana. She’d do it soon. She could text her right now, to schedule a meeting.
But even when Lola did come out, she’d never have what theseSaint Satin fans did. She’d never get lost in a crowd or kiss a stranger. This moment, tonight, was the closest Lola had come—mightevercome—to going to a gay bar. These same people might hate her for having dated too many men or having stayed closeted too long or simply because she was bisexual. She’d happily lose any homophobic fans, but she wasn’t under the illusion the queer community would simply embrace her. Everyone would have an expectation for how she was supposed to be. She’d inevitably disappoint some of them. And that felt perilously close to failure.
Would it all be worth it?
Renee’s arrival interrupted her thoughts.
Relief bled through Lola as Renee came forward, her churning thoughts already quieting. Renee looked insanely hot in the suit. It walked the scintillating line between feminine and masculine, as Renee often did, which always sent a rush of heat through Lola’s body. Lola wanted to pull Renee close and kiss her, because she looked incredible, because Lola was proud of her for braving the reception, because Renee’s touch would ground her—but also because kissing Renee would prove that she belonged in this room full of queer people.
But she couldn’t kiss Renee—not yet. After an awkward hesitation, they hugged, though Lola dared to slip her hands inside the jacket to cup Renee’s hips.
“That suit,” Lola said, pulling back to better rake her eyes up Renee’s body. “If it weren’t for all these people …”
Renee flashed her a crooked grin. “Won’t matter soon.”
She’d been thinking almost the same thing, but hearing it from Renee, she felt a pinch of anxiety. Renee’s gaze was drifting over the crowd below, but she wasn’t looking at them like Lola had. Being here was nothing special for Renee, who had been out for half her life. She knew she fit in already.
“How was the party?” Lola asked.
“It was weird. Well, no, it was good, but that was weird. Dragan wasn’t kidding about showing me off.” She pulled a handful of business cards from her pocket. “Agents, producers, I don’t even remember who else.”
“That’s incredible!”
“It is, isn’t it? I even talked to two people from my cohort and I felt myself starting to spiral, but I was like, no. They’re going to be eating their words eventually. Or I hope they will.”
“Theywill,” Lola said. Renee’s words were optimistic, but she was gripping the mezzanine railing so tight that the velvet was pulling at her shoulders. “Then what’s wrong?”
“I’m just thinking about how badly I need this film to begood. Everything’s riding on this. I’m not going to get a second chance. I didn’t deservethischance—”
“Renee—”
