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The best part was that I always got to bring the party, which was a feeling like none other.
I played one of my favorite songs “Young and Beautiful” through the speakers as an unexplainable urge came over me, pulling me to look around the crowd. I had no idea what I was looking for until an unfamiliar feeling settled in my stomach when I locked eyes with him.
Everything faded away…
The music.
The lights.
The crowd.
It was just him and me.
I was good at reading people. Call it a gift or a curse. The expression on his face remained neutral in that broody sort of way that was obviously his M.O. I didn’t care much for his type. Hell, the truth was, I’d been around all kinds of men.
Nice guy.
Bad boy.
Broken man.
Yada, yada, yada…
In my experience, they were all cut from the same cloth.
At the end of the day, all they wanted was to fuck. It was that plain and simple, and once you realize that, it leaves little room to get hurt. I’d sworn off relationships a long time ago. Love just wasn’t in the cards for me, and I was fine with that.
It simply made things easier.
I preferred keeping people at arm’s length, which was one of the reasons I loved DJing so much. Despite meeting new and old faces on the regular, most were merely acquaintances or just party friends. Doing what I did for a living, I constantly traveled for different sets in different countries. I’d play clubs, festivals, bars, and concerts.
Anything, really. Even private parties.
I was always down for a good time. What could I say? I guess I was the kind of girl who gave off those vibes as well.
I partied with all sorts of people with different social statuses and loved every one of them. I was proud of being a bilingual Latina and essentially making the American dream happen, but Cuba was my home. I made a lot of money, and I’d never once taken it for granted.
I went back to doing what I was there for. I’d been DJing all over the world for over a decade, but dance clubs in Miami always hit different for some reason. Maybe it was the booze. Perhaps it was the drugs. Shit, maybe it was just the way people didn’t seem to give a shit and passed no judgment in this city, and I, for one, appreciated that.
The night continued without a hitch. By the time six o’clock rolled around and I was packing up my stuff, I once again felt him. Except this time, he was walking toward me.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One…
He instantly engulfed me in nothing but his whiskey, cigarette, and clean scent. I waited for him to say something to me because I didn’t feel like initiating a conversation with him. When he didn’t say a word and just stood there, I finally met his concentrated stare, focused solely on me.
His eyes told me he wanted to say so much even though nothing came out.
“Why don’t you take a picture?” I snapped, annoyed with his expression. “It’ll last you longer.” With that, I turned to leave, but he grabbed my arm and held me in place.
Glaring at his grip and then at him, I warned, “You got a death wish?”
