A stunning girl clad in a silver dress with purple-feathered wings unfurled behind her winked at me. Her eyes glowed lavender in the darkness, another surgical manipulation. Nothing was permanent in the world of the rich, except for their wealth. I winked back, but the wild movement of the dancers quickly swallowed her from view.
The yous danced with fervor, arms thrust into the air, some thrashing their heads, brightly colored hair whipping. The majority gyrated their hips as if in an aggressive mating ritual. The young women danced in groups or with each other, but some were partnered with young men, who were more than willing to keep up, hands gripping the women’s waists—or lower. They bared as much skin as the women, many with glowing semipermanent tattoo sleeves, and others with designs across lean, chiseled pecs.
The regulated air was cool, but not cool enough to dissipate the human sweat and heat that rose from the crush of bodies on the massive dance floor. Silver barbots whizzed along its periphery overhead. A wave of the hand brought them hovering over a guest, who could order or take their drinks and never miss a beat of dancing.
I was overdressed for my first official party as Jason Zhou. With Victor’s guidance over Vox, I put on slim-fitting dark gray wool trousers, a periwinkle dress shirt (I had made the mistake of calling it “blue” and got corrected by Victor very quickly), and a light gray vest that gave a silver sheen. I was overdressed not for the style we chose, but because I simply wasn’t showing enough skin. Victor had insisted I wear a thick, square palladium cuff on my wrist with a matching square ring on my opposite hand.
“You have to wear some kind of accessories as a you boy,” Victor had said, instructing me to fold my sleeve edges back so I looked more casual. “Besides, it’ll show off your manicure.”
I had laughed.
I searched the crowds again for Daiyu. For a moment, I thought I glimpsed a girl on the far side of the room, across the large dance floor, with Daiyu’s height and graceful movements. She was speaking to a redhead, leaning toward her friend, so I could only see a quarter profile. Pushing past the dancers and guests holding sparkling drinks in glowing glasses, I made my way toward the figure but was not halfway through the grand room before she disappeared, too. It was too crowded for me to follow her movements.
Damn.
After another fifteen minutes nursing a glass of pink champagne, I got tired of standing on the sidelines. I had received curious looks all evening, but no one had yet introduced themselves. Since moving into the 101, I had joined in on a few conversations over the com sys, but found the response polite and guarded. Most of the you kids had grown up together and had known each other all their lives, and I was an obvious outsider. I suddenly thought of Tom Ripley from one of my favorite novels, and how he wholeheartedly took possession of a lifestyle and wealth that were never meant to be his. He believed it as he lived it.
Squaring my shoulders, I plunged into the thick throng of sweating bodies and saw the redhead Daiyu had been speaking with. She was half-turned from me, and I caught her arm; she shifted, an annoyed look on her face, until she glanced up. Then she smiled. “Why, hello,” she said, and caressed my cuff, trailing her fingers across my inner wrist.
I resisted the urge to jerk my hand away and gave her a lazy grin instead. Girls had always shown interest in me on the streets, but they had never touched me so casually, as if I were an object to be acquired. But I supposed I’d started it. Blood rushed to my head, pulsing in time to the music.
“What’s your name?” she shouted above the beat, but I could still hear the husky note of her voice.
It was the redhead that I had seen in the silver limo months ago. She wore a crimson silk halter dress, the neckline plunging to her navel. Deep purple lotuses were tattooed above her chest, nestled beneath the arches of her clavicles. I stared at the elaborate tattoos, and she touched a fingertip to one of the buds painted right above the swell of her breast, drawing my eyes there. I let myself take in the view, feeling uncomfortably hot, before my gaze returned to her face.
Her lips were as red as I remembered, and she pursed them before they curved in a knowing smile. “Wait. Do I know you?”
A spike of panic.
Then I smiled back. “I’ve never had the pleasure.” I extended my hand. “I’m Jason.”
She clasped my fingers, amused by my formality. “Angela.” Her hand was warm, and she didn’t let go of mine when she said, “What’s your surname? How is it that I’ve never met you before?”
“Zhou,” I said. “Jason Zhou. I just arrived from California.” I said the state name in English. “I’m new to the city.”
“Well,” Angela said. “Welcome to Taipei, Jason Zhou. Let’s dance!” She tugged at my hand, walking backward onto the dance floor. People cleared a path for her, as if she were some kind of siren, until we were near the middle, almost directly under the DJ’s dais.
The music filled me from inside out, and Angela wrapped one hand behind my neck, swaying her other in the air, flinging her head back as she danced with abandon. I held her by the waist so she wouldn’t fall backward in her enthusiasm. She laughed, her brightly silvered eyelids fluttering, thick lashes brushing above high cheekbones. It’d been a long time since I’d danced so close with a stranger. I took the lead and matched her move for move, our bodies gyrating in sync to the music. She thrust her hips into mine, and my body responded. My hands moved lower to her hips, but I resisted the urge to slide them farther down.
She threw her other arm behind my neck and pressed closer, her dark eyes glowing with pleasure, locked to mine. She ran the tip of her tongue across her upper lip, and the corner of her mouth tilted into a seductive smile. I’d never been big on casual flings, though that was an invitation for a kiss if I’d ever seen one. But I didn’t want to kiss her—not a you girl—even if my body was revving to go. Leaning in, I unclasped her hands from my neck, then spun her out with the next hypnotic beats. Her eyes had been shut in anticipation, but she gasped now, surprised. Laughing. I pulled her close again and she gazed up at me, lips parted, trying to figure me out.