Page 57 of Begin Again Again

“Out the back getting ready. You drink the same thing.”

Byron smiled. “Yeah. So, double?”

“Of course.” Bow Tie turned to Beth. “You?”

“Do you do mocktails?”

“Nope.”

Fuck.

“Non-alcoholic beer?”

A slow blink. “No.”

Beth bit the inside of her cheek. “Diet Coke?”

“Only regular, sorry. And it’s postmix.”

Jesus.

“Could I maybe have a sparkling water?”

Bow Tie looked apologetic. “We only have tap.”

Byron started to laugh. “Holy shit, that’s a bad run, Horoscopes.”

“Sorry,” Bow Tie said, a little defensively. “Wearein a warehouse.”

“It’s fine,” Beth said firmly. “Water is fine.”

The bartender flashed her another apologetic smile and ducked away. Beth pictured the drinks she brought to Lara’s lockdown picnics—Liberty black cherry kombucha, zero sugar Red Bull, cans of coconut water and San Pellegrino in a glass bottle so fancy you could pretend it was champagne. It should be legal, no,encouragedthat sober people carry their own beverages. Clubs and bars should be forced to store them in their fridges.

She sensed Byron watching her. “What?”

“What?” he said, eyebrows raised.

“Double what?”

Byron smiled. “Triple what?”

It was tempting to say ‘septuple what?’ but she remembered Lara and girls who joked again and didn’t respond. Instead, she turned and watched the colourful crowd. Everyone looked beautiful and the energy was sky-high. Post lockdown excitement? Or were gigs here always this exciting? The lights dimmed, and a pink spotlight appeared on the stage at the back of the warehouse. Everyone cheered, but the techno song that was already playing kept thudding along.

“First act probably isn’t far.” Byron handed Beth her water. “Happy to stay here?”

“Sure. So, is this the first time you’ve been to one of your sister’s shows?”

He took a long drink of scotch and dry. “Nah.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but it doesn’t show.”

“I know. But this is my sister’s world. I never know how they want me to be when I’m here.”

“Maybe they don’t want you to be any way? They probably just like that you are here.”

“Maybe.”

“But then you don’t like pretending,” Beth mused. “Are you torn between pretending to be fine and being genuinely uncomfortable right now?”

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