Chapter 1: Locked Lips, Broken Hearts
The bass hit Lisa’s chest before the sound reached her ears. A physical tremor, a second heartbeat out of sync with her own. Neon bled across the dance floor, painting the crowd in strokes of electric blue and sickly pink. The air was a solid thing—warm, damp, a mix of sweat, spilled beer, and cloying perfume.
Beside her, Somi moved like the music was a language only her body understood. Her hips carved smooth circles, her head thrown back in a laugh that got swallowed by the roar. She reached for Lisa, fingers brushing the tense line of Lisa’s forearm.
“You’re thinking again,” Somi yelled, her mouth close to Lisa’s ear. Her breath was sweet with gin. “Stop it. Just be here.”
Lisa forced a smile. It felt tight, a crack in a wall. She let herself be pulled closer, into the heat radiating from Somi’s skin. She tried to mirror the movement, a stiff approximation of a sway. Her boyish frame, all sharp angles and lean muscle under her loose shirt, felt clumsy, out of step.
Somi’s hands settled on Lisa’s hips, guiding them. “There you go,” she murmured, her thumbs rubbing small, intimate circles against the fabric. Her touch was a brand. It was supposed to feel good. It did, in a distant, theoretical way, like hearing about a beautiful beach you’d never visit.
The song swelled, the beat a frantic, pulsing thing. Somi turned in Lisa’s arms, pressing her back against Lisa’s front. She ground against her, a slow, deliberate roll. Lisa’s breath hitched. Her hands, hovering awkwardly at Somi’s sides, clenched into futile fists.
“I can feel you thinking,” Somi said again, twisting to look over her shoulder. Her eyes, dark and shining in the strobe light, held a playful challenge. “What’s in that head?”
“Nothing. Just… loud in here.”
“It’s supposed to be loud.” Somi turned fully, looping her arms around Lisa’s neck. The space between them vanished. Lisa could see the faint shimmer of glitter on Somi’s collarbones, the damp tendril of hair stuck to her temple. She was gorgeous, a fact as undeniable as the bass shaking the floor. “Kiss me.”
It wasn’t a question. Lisa leaned in. Their lips met, and Somi’s were insistent, hungry. She tasted of lime and tonic. Her tongue sought entry and Lisa granted it, the kiss deepening into something that felt, to Lisa, like performance. A good one. She knew the steps. The tilt of the head, the pressure of the hand at the small of Somi’s back, the soft sound in the throat that meant encouragement.
Inside, a cold, familiar dread uncoiled.
Somi broke the kiss, her lips slick and smiling. “Better.” She traced Lisa’s jawline with a fingertip. “Let’s get out of here. My place. Now.”
The words landed like a summons. The night had its inevitable trajectory, its worn-down path. Drinks, dancing, the pressured heat of a taxi ride, the fumble with keys at Somi’s door. The dim bedroom. The expectation.
Lisa’s skin prickled. “It’s still early,” she heard herself say, the protest weak even to her own ears.
“So?” Somi laughed, a bright, melodic sound that didn’t match the hollow in Lisa’s gut. “Since when do you care about early? Come on. I’ve been waiting all night.” She pressed closer, leaving no ambiguity about what she was waiting for. Her hand slid down, palming Lisa through the stiff denim of her jeans.
Lisa flinched. It was minute, a tiny recoil Somi mistook for arousal.
“See?” Somi whispered, victorious. “Your body’s smarter than your brain.”
That was the problem. That was the exact, terrifying problem. Her body was a traitor, a separate entity with its own crude demands and humiliating proof. The thing in her pants, stirred now by simple friction, by the relentless, enthusiastic pursuit of the woman she loved. It felt like a betrayal. A crude, biological joke.
“Let me just… finish my drink,” Lisa said, pulling back gently, creating an inch of life-saving space.
Somi’s perfect brow furrowed, a flash of real confusion. “You’ve been nursing that same vodka soda for an hour. It’s water now.” She studied Lisa’s face, the playful glint fading into something sharper, more assessing. “What’s going on with you lately? You’ve been… quiet.”
“I’m just tired. Long week.”
“You’re always tired.” Somi didn’t say it meanly. It was an observation, heavy with a concern that made Lisa feel worse. “I know you. This isn’t about being tired.”
A guy bumped into them from behind, sloshing warm beer onto Lisa’s sleeve. “Sorry, man!” he slurred, weaving away. The word ‘man’ hung in the toxic air. It always did. Sometimes it fit, sometimes it was a splinter under her skin. Tonight, it felt like an accusation.
“It’s fine,” Lisa muttered, wiping her arm. The interruption was a gift. “It’s just this place. It’s a lot. Can we… get some air?”
Somi sighed, a long, exasperated sound. The momentum of the night had stalled, and she was visibly debating whether to push it back on track. Finally, she nodded, taking Lisa’s hand. Her grip was firm, possessive. “Five minutes. Then we’re leaving. Deal?”
“Deal.”
Lisa let herself be led, a spectator in her own skin. The crowd parted for Somi, smiles and greetings thrown her way. She was the sun here, magnetic and beloved. Lisa was the silent satellite, pulled along in her gravity.
They pushed through a fire exit door, the sudden silence ringing in Lisa’s ears. The alley behind the club was a canyon of brick and stacked crates, smelling of garbage and wet asphalt. The bass was a dull, contained throb through the wall.
Somi leaned against the rough brick, pulling out a vape. She took a long drag, the tip glowing in the gloom, and exhaled a plume of sweet smoke. “Okay. Air. Talk.”
Lisa stuffed her hands in her pockets, looking up at the narrow strip of night sky between the buildings. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Bullshit.” Somi’s voice was soft, but it cut. “You’ve been pulling away for weeks. Physically, you’re here. The rest of you is… somewhere else. Is it me?”
“No. God, no, Somi. It’s not you.” The guilt was a physical weight, a stone in her throat. “You’re perfect.”
“Then what?” Somi stepped forward, closing the distance again. She placed her hands on Lisa’s chest. “I love you. I love all of you. You know that, right?” Her gaze was direct, unwavering. She meant it. She loved the idea of Lisa, the concept. She loved the body she understood, even its unconventional parts. But she loved it with a hungry, possessive certainty that left no room for the messy, shifting truth inside.
Lisa’s mouth was dry. The words were there, lodged behind the stone. I don’t know who ‘all of me’ is. I feel like a ghost wearing a costume. Your touch feels like a test I’m failing. They remained unspoken, cowardly.
Instead, she looked at Somi’s pleading, beautiful face and did what was expected. She kissed her. It was softer this time, a promise she wasn’t sure she could keep.
“It’s nothing,” Lisa whispered against her lips. “Just a mood. Let’s go back inside. I’ll dance with you. For real.”
Somi searched her eyes, looking for the lie. She must have found enough of the truth to satisfy her, because she smiled, the tension easing from her shoulders. “Okay. But I’m holding you to that.”
Back inside, the noise was a slap. Somi dove into the crowd, instantly absorbed, becoming a series of graceful, silhouetted movements. Lisa stood at the edge, her shoulders hunched, fingers twitching at her sides.
She watched Somi dance, a creature of pure, untroubled sensation. For her, a body was a playground. A site of pleasure, of connection, of fun.
For Lisa, as the throbbing lights fractured her into a thousand shifting shadows, her own form felt like nothing but a battleground. Every beat of the music was a reminder of the war inside, quiet, desperate, and raging right there on the neon-lit floor.