Page 56 of Begin Again Again

Byron unclicked his seatbelt. “Yeah, thanks, mate.”

Beth slid out of the car and inhaled the cigarette-scented air. “We’re here.”

“We are.” Byron’s gaze locked on the two people smoking—Drag Queens, from their height and feather boas. He frowned and Beth’s mouth went dry. Surely, he wasn’t going to be a dick?

Byron gestured at his jeans. “I’m not dressed for this. I never know what to wear to Sal’s shows and whenever I ask them, I walk away more confused.”

Beth noted his use of neutral pronouns for his sister and made a mental note to follow suit. “Don’t worry about it, you look great.”

“I think you mean I look straight.”

She grinned. “At least you’re not the tallest person here. The queen in pink has to be six-six.”

“Yeah, maybe I’ll pass by unnoticed.” Byron took her hand. “Head inside?”

“Sure.”

They didn’t move. Beth glanced up at her date.

“I might be nervous,” Byron said to the sky. “Maybe.”

Beth’s heart contracted with adoration. She smiled up at him. “I’ve got you, Byron Thomas.”

“Pardon?”

She tilted her head from side to side, loosening her neck like a prize fighter before a bout. “I’ve got you. I’ll sort this.”

She wrapped her arm through his and marched them toward the makeshift club, beaming at everyone who looked their way.

“I love your crown,” she told the Scarlett Johansson type scanning tickets.

“I can’t wait to see the show,” she told the Bettie Page lookalike stamping wrists.

“Any performance recommendations?” she asked the tuxedoed clerk checking temperatures.

“Oh, everyone’s fantastic,” they said as she and Byron rubbed sanitiser into their hands. “You’re in for a great night.”

“I bet!”

Beth kept up the energy as she wove herself and Byron through the crowd to the bar.

“Great necklace!” she told a passing Girlboss type. “Excuse me. Hi! How’s it going? Hi!”

They settled against the bar to await the server and Byron turned to her with something like amazement. “What the hell was that?”

Beth brushed some imaginary dust off her shoulder. “That was my public relations entrance. Very social butterfly. Very ‘neither me nor my companion is a threat.’”

“Impressive.”

“Thank you.”

A bored-looking person in a bow tie stepped up to them. “What can I get you?”

“Scotch and dry,” said Byron. “Can I get a double?”

Bow Tie looked him up and down. “Are you Sal’s brother?”

“Yeah,” he said, surprised. “Are they around?”

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