Once Grey obliged, they stood side by side at the mirror.
“You look fucking incredible,” Grey said admiringly. Kamilah was a vision in gold, from her silky sheath dress to her septum ring to the bangles snaking up her arms. The dress’s black leather accents at the shoulders and waist perfectly matched her knee-high lace-up boots. “Did you get those boots while you were away? I don’t recognize them.”
“Berlin, mein Liebchen,” Kamilah said, batting her eyelashes. “I almost sold my hard drives to make room for them in my bag.”
“Worth it. I’m just mad I can’t borrow them.” The two of them were roughly the same height, and wore the same size in everything except shoes, Kamilah measuring in at a dainty size six next to Grey’s eight-and-a-half.
Now that the Europe and Asia legs of their tour were over, Andromeda X was celebrating their return to L.A. by performing a secret, invite-only show at the El Rey. Grey had tried to flake out in the days leading up to it, but Kamilah had reminded her how outrageous it was that Grey still hadn’t met Andromeda even though they’d been dating for months.
“To be fair, you didn’t really give me a chance,” Grey had pointed out.
“Well, here’s your chance,” Kamilah had retorted. Grey couldn’t argue with that. She knew she was being selfish, that it was time to suck it up and get over herself—at least for a night.
For most of the day, Kamilah had been down at the venue, overseeing the technical execution of the video elements of Andromeda’s stage show. She’d kept her promise to return to the house in time for them to get ready together, which Grey suspected was also a tactic to keep her from trying to bail at the last second.
Kamilah’s phone dinged, indicating their car had arrived. Grey locked the door behind them, her heart in her throat. This would be her first time stepping out in public since she’d returned from Palm Springs. Her first appearance sans Ethan.
She’d finally stopped jumping every time her phone buzzed, waiting for some kind of overture from him that was obviously never coming. Fine. They’d agreed things should end after Palm Springs, and he was sticking to it. Still, that knowledge did nothing to fix the constant low-level ache in the pit of her stomach.
As they cruised down Beverly Boulevard, Kamilah filled Grey in on the various members of Andromeda’s entourage she’d bonded with over the course of the tour, along with the assorted alliances and rivalries that inevitably sprung up in such close quarters. Grey focused on trying to keep it all straight, grateful for something to distract her from her nerves.
“Oh, and remind me to introduce you to Jaya; she’s a fucking genius. Best cinematographer I’ve ever worked with. I lent her the book and she’s totally in.”
“In?”
Kamilah raised her eyebrows. “The movie. Our movie. You know, the one we’ve been trying to make for years? Slip your mind for a second?”
Grey felt a wave of gloom overtake her, blurting out the fear that she’d been too scared to voice aloud.
“What if we never get to make it? After…after everything? I can always bow out if it comes down to it, and you can take over. I don’t want all my drama and bullshit to stand in your way.”
Kamilah shrugged. “I mean…it’s a total nightmare, but at the end of the day, getting your sex pics leaked never killed anyone’s career. Everyone will get bored of their cute little Grey’s Anatomy puns and move on to the next thing soon enough. Fuck Golden City, fuck the tabloids. You have to keep living your life. I’m back, you’re famous, and we’re going to get this shit made.”
She sounded so convincing that Grey almost believed it.
“I hope so.”
When they reached the venue, they were immediately escorted backstage to the greenroom. A dozen or so painfully cool people were already milling about, eating, drinking, and posturing. A small monitor displayed a view of the stage, where the opening act was making their way through their set.
Grey’s eyes found Andromeda right away: petite, ethereal, exquisite, and surrounded by stylists putting the finishing touches on their outfit. Their body was encircled with white spandex straps crisscrossing their glowing brown skin in a serpentine design. Their hair was half shaved, half hanging down to their waist in bleached-white micro braids. As the stylist at their hip untangled and smoothed the last strap, Andromeda lifted their arms, and another stylist guided a loose, translucent dress over their head. The dress shimmered with a different color of the rainbow every time Andromeda moved.
As the stylists stepped away, Kamilah sauntered over and wrapped her arms around Andromeda from behind, giving them a brief, tender kiss on the expanse between their neck and shoulder. Grey hung back, watching the two of them sway slightly in front of the mirror for a moment, whispering to each other as if they were the only two people in the room.
Her chest ached at the sight of them. She was elated to see Kamilah so smitten. Through the years Grey had known her, she’d watched Kamilah break heart after heart—through no fault of her own. She knew what she wanted in a partner and refused to settle for less, but it didn’t take much for her openhearted charisma to inspire unrequited infatuation in most people she encountered (including Grey’s own brother, in a visit that had quickly become more awkward than any of them had anticipated). But though Grey chastised herself for her self-involvement, seeing Kamilah getting serious with someone who finally seemed worthy of her talent, attention, and love felt bittersweet in the face of her own circumstances. Grey let herself wallow in self-pity for a count of three, before joining them by the mirror.
When Kamilah introduced them, Andromeda clasped Grey’s hand with both of theirs and looked into her eyes warmly.
“Thank you so much for coming tonight. I’m so glad to meet you.” Their voice was light and slightly raspy. Grey instantly felt guilty that she had ever considered staying home.
“Same here. Kamilah has told me so much about you. It’s great seeing her so happy. I guess I can forgive you for stealing her away for so long. She deserves it.”
Andromeda laughed, sweeping their eyes back to Kamilah with a look of adoration.
“She really does.”
Kamilah batted her eyes, basking in the attention. “Don’t stop now.”
A makeup artist buzzed around Andromeda’s shoulders, and they tilted their head up obediently so the artist could fix their lip liner. They gestured to the table in the corner, piled high with refreshments.
“Help yourself to whatever. You’re welcome to watch from backstage, but I think the best view is probably from the audience. Especially if you want to see K’s genius in action.”
Kamilah grinned. “As if anyone even notices my videos when you’re up there.”
“Well, I can’t wait to finally see the show in person after stalking everyone’s shaky Instagram stories of it for months,” Grey said. “That’s the ideal way to watch it, right?”
Andromeda laughed. “Exactly.”
At that, Andromeda was whisked away by another member of their entourage to deal with some other pressing preshow issue.
Kamilah leaned over to Grey and muttered, “I didn’t want to say anything in front of them because I want you to be able to say no, but—wouldn’t Andromeda be amazing as Our Lady of Infinite Sorrows? And I think they might be interested in scoring the whole thing, too.”
Grey beamed. “That’s fucking perfect. You’re a genius.”
She and Kamilah made their way out of the greenroom and on to the VIP seating area upstairs. They immediately headed to the bar to kick the evening off with tequila shots, a tradition dating back to their college days. Grey’s tolerance for shots had only declined since then, but she was usually fine with one—as long as she slowed down after that.