Page 60 of We Used To Be Magic

‘In fairness, you have very nice teeth.’

‘Ha ha. Want to get a hot dog?’

‘Interesting pivot.’

‘Talking about this bums me out and I’d rather eat my feelings.’ He sighs, absently ruffling his hair as we get to our feet and start to walk. ‘There’s a vendor up the street that’s yet to fuck me up.’ ‘How come?’

‘Just lucky, I guess. Plus the dude wears gloves.’

‘I was talking about the “bummer” thing,’ I say, nudging him. ‘I can see it all happening for you – the dream-tier stuff. You’re just that kind of person, you know? You’ll make it happen.’

‘Thanks,’ Mac says, glancing at me sideways. ‘I think I really needed to hear that, actually.’

And I smile, not wanting to ruin the moment by telling him that I forgot my wallet.

AUDREY

IT SOUNDSSO NAÏVE,IN HINDSIGHT,BUT FORA LITTLEWHILE ITactually seemed like I might have a nice time tonight.

Most of the crew went straight to the bar after the shoot, but Marika lied and claimed we’d left our purses at our apartment, stealing us a brief reprieve. We used it to make dinner, a hasty concoction of peanut butter and noodles, which we ate on the floor of our bedroom in full glam, glancing up at each other every so often and giggling hysterically, giddy with exhaustion. It was nice – like we were roommates at uni or something. Marika even lent me another one of her dresses to wear, a floral mini with frilled sleeves, and by the time we were clambering into yet another taxi I was feeling almost cheerful. There was no guarantee that we’d even get into the bar we were heading to, and if we were turned away for not havingIDthen we’d have an airtight excuse to leave. Maybe we could do something together, I’d figured, Marika and Nicole and Ezra and I.

‘Imogene just messaged,’ Marika said, frowning at her phone. ‘The bar’s a bust – too many people. ‘

‘Imogene’s there?’

‘I guess it’s spun into something bigger than drinks. Julian’s offered to host at his apartment. They’re all heading there now.’

I felt myself go cold.

‘Oh,’ I managed.

‘Don’t worry,’ Marika said easily, tapping at her screen. ‘No one’ll notice a few late stragglers. Just send Ezra the address. I’m messaging Nicole now.’

And Marika was right, of course. Julian’s large, tastefully minimalist apartment is heaving with people, most in an advanced state of inebriation. People including Ezra, who arrived looking disarmingly cool in a snug, high-necked charcoal jumper and black trousers. He smiled when he saw me and told me I looked nice. I don’t remember what I said in reply.

That was about an hour ago. Right now, I’m standing at the periphery of a conversation between him and a few guys from the crew. I’m not entirely sure what they’re talking about – I’ve been drifting in and out of other people’s discussions all night, laughing when it’s appropriate to laugh, answering questions when they’re asked. Waiting to leave.

I look up at Ezra, then, watching the tendons in his neck move as he talks. I’m not sure if I regret asking him to come tonight. Marika has been busy networking, and I’m grateful to have had someone by my side. I don’t like him beinghere, though, in this space. I don’t want these two worlds to bleed together.

He’s looking back at me, I realise absently.

‘Sorry?’ I say, noticing too late that he’s asked me a question.

‘I asked if you wanted a drink.’

‘Oh, right,’ I say, glancing over at the kitchen to check that Julian’s nowhere near it. ‘Okay.’

We peel away from the group, me trailing Ezra as he steers us through the crowds. He stops dead the second we’re in a quieter corner, though, turning to face me.

‘Sorry, um – can we just talk for a moment?’ he says stiltedly.

‘Sure,’ I reply, like my stomach hasn’t just dropped to the floor. ‘What’s up?’

‘I guess that’s kind of what I’m asking you,’ Ezra says quietly, pinching the bridge of his nose like he has a headache. ‘I mean – you’ve barely said two words all night, and I genuinely can’t tell if you don’t want to be here or if you don’t wantmehere.’

‘No,’ I say quickly. ‘No, I do. Really, Ezra – I’m so glad you came.’

‘So … the first one?’

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