Page 63 of Dark Verse

“Yes, please,” she repeats with a wide smile.

“You want to come?” Ven asks, turning to me.

I nod, saying, “Sounds like an adventure.”

We all pile into the van to cross town. The outside of the building is completely nondescript with no windows in sight. I wouldn’t even know what’s inside except for the medium-sized sign indicating it carries beauty supplies.

As nondescript as the outside is, the inside is an explosion of sights, sounds, and smells. So many smells. Sweet and flowery, harsh and acrid, earthy and dark. There are even products claiming to have no scent at all. Row upon row of makeup, braiding hair, wigs and extensions, beauty tools, and every possible product to change the look of your hair: perms, dyes, straighteners, curling irons, lotions and oils. It’s totally overwhelming to my brain, but Raven seems to know exactly where she is going. She and Via walk up and down the aisle together, trading war stories centered around hair.

Listening to them makes me very thankful to be a man with short hair.

As we are leaving the building, we’re hit by the full force of the August heat. Colorado is already a dry place, but the sun has been baking the entire state for weeks now. The hot tendrils rise from the asphalt in long bands, the wind catching the dust and tumbleweeds alike, the cracked earth visible where the grass has died. Which incidentally is just about everywhere I look.

“Anyone else up for some ice cream or smoothies or something?” Via asks as we pile into the van once more.

Raven raises her hand. “No way I’m going back to my apartment until after dark.”

“Satan’s booty hole, right?” I ask.

“What?” Via questions, looking concerned and confused in equal measure.

Ray and I both giggle and explain to her that Ven’s air conditioner is underperforming. We cross town once more, scream-singing Cinder and Cress’s most popular song, Lord of Population, when it plays on the radio. The three of us make ourselves horse by trying to out-scream-sing each other, only for us all to devolve into cackling when Raven declares herself the winner of the impromptu bad singing competition. Via follows the sat nav to one of the highest-rated ice cream parlors in the Denver area. When we arrive, there is a line hanging out the door, which we quickly join.

The smell of sugar and dairy lingers heavily in the cold air as we step into the shop. It’s bright and cheerful inside. The black-and-red hounds tooth fabric covers the tables and the booths.

There doesn’t seem to be a free space to sit, but I turn my focus to the huge menu. I count over 75 different flavors and combinations before I give up reading, distracted by a conversation happening behind us.

“Scott, I think that’s them,” I hear a woman saying quietly.

“No, pretty sure you’re just seeing things.”

“Umm…no,” the woman sounds sure of herself. “Look again.”

The man says something too quietly for me to hear, the employee asking us what we want to order. The three of us put in our orders and step out of line. The next thing I hear from them is the woman saying:

“Oh? Seriously, that’s all you have to say. Oh?”

“Shh…Em,” Scott says instantly.

Intrigued by what’s happening, I look over my shoulder. Two customer groups behind us, a man and a woman, are looking directly at me. When I make eye contact with the woman, she gasps.

“Oh, my God, I knew it.” She leaves the line and comes right up to us. “You’re the Nightshades. We saw you playing just the other night.”

“Yes, we are!” Via says happily. “I hope you enjoyed the show.”

“Oh, my gosh, yes.” Em says, looking between Via and me, “Ya’ll are awesome!” she practically shouts.

I look up to see the man, Scott, covering his face and looking embarrassed.

“This is my brother, Scott,” Em says, waving him over. He looks like he wants to floor to open up and eat him whole, even as he shuffles over to us. “We were there to see Lost Queens, but you were the opener. You were great!”

“Emily,” Scott groans as her volume increases. Now half of the other customers are watching as well. I swear I even see a few people pull out their phones and take pictures. “Volume.”

She doesn’t seem to hear him as she continues, “I’ve been catching up on the rest of your music since the show. My brother’s trying to act normal, but he’s a huge fan now too.”

“Yeah?” Raven prompts, looking at Scott.

“Yeah,” Scott says, looking down at his shoes for a moment before looking back up. “Your third album specifically…just wow. It’s really hard to pick a favorite song from that one.”