Sydney Bay Janes

All Chyna could talk about since we left Nevada was Damian. It was annoying how much they liked each other already, but cute. Damian's a good guy, I'll admit, I like them together.

Meanwhile, I avoided Will the next two days after our kiss. Not because I was embarrassed or didn't want to see him again, I just hate goodbyes. The way I left him was perfect, I think. Any other way would've been far too dramatic, this isn't The Notebook. I don't know, I've never seen The Notebook.

I was full of nerves about the whole court thing. They wanted me to testify against Tony for what he did the last night I saw him - the fire. Honestly, I tried my best to block out any recollection of him and that evening. Plus, getting away helped a lot, I hardly thought about him.

In the backseat of the Uber, Chyna put her hand on top of mine.

"You're shaking," she said, smiling at me.

Instantly, I felt comforted.

"I'm just anxious. I haven't seen him since, I know this is going to be a shit show," I sighed.

"Have some hope, girl. You'll be fine. We need to get that asshole behind bars, or in a mental house, at least," she spoke.

I put my head on her shoulder. "I love you. Thank you."

"I love you, too. Let's do this."

When the jury revealed they found Tony Becker not guilty, I felt gutted.

My body physically negatively reacted to hearing those words. I stormed out the second the judge banged his gavel.

Chyna tried catching up to me but my legs went too fast.

"--Weren't you in a shocked state when tony met you? He then provided shelter food and compensation for you? In your extreme state, you found comfort in him. So is it fair to say your perception of the events could be altered, you did hit your head? So then, in you not wanting to go to jail, could it be that you actually took advantage of his generous heart and later seduced him, thus starting your romantic relationship? You said you 'owe him your life.' did you later sign a contract to tony, were you held at gunpoint to stay with him? Is it true you and tony maintained a sexual relationship throughout two of his marriages?" Kent Mackenzie interrogated me. I couldn't even keep up, his words hitting me like bullets. While everything he said was true, it also wasn't.

They concluded he was innocent after Tony's lawyer informed them we were in a romantic relationship. I tried saying otherwise as I never consented to any sort of sexual endeavors with him. However, I never said no and I always accepted his money and gifts. His lawyer earned that degree, grilling me until I almost cried. My lawyer was at a loss, telling me how the opposition was about to get me for being a "prostitute," then. When the death of my parents was brought up, that's when I gave up.

"Slow down, will you?" Chyna hustled, panting as she spoke.

I stopped on the sidewalk and snatched my arm from her grasp. The tears burned my flesh as I felt my lip quivering, trying to contain my emotions.

"Leave me alone, alright!" I yelled through gritted teeth.

When she looked at me, taken aback by my attitude towards her, I sobbed.

"I just want to be alone. Tony... Tony won and there's nothing else to do."

She looked sympathetic. "That's the justice system for you-- or lack of-- I'm sorry, Syd. We can-"

"We can't do anything, Chyna! Me, I - this doesn't involve you. Please, just... fuck off," I wept, clicking down the sidewalk in my pumps.

*** Three weeks later ***

Three loud, hard bangs on the door woke me up one morning.

I squinted, looking at the time on my phone before it powered off with one percent battery left.

1:43pm

Err, I thought it was morning.

"Fuck, Syd," Chyna scowled, walking inside the loft.

I picked myself off the couch and cracked my aching back.

"You got groceries?" I asked, seeing reusable shopping bags in her arms.

Her dark eyes rolled in the kitchen. "You got a place to stay?" she barked.

My face curled as I made my way over to her.

"Come on, that's no way to treat a friend," I complained, opening the bottle of Sunny D she just brought home.

Chyna tilted her head at me, not emoting.

Swallowing, I slouched, trying to cheer her up. "Oh, come on. I'm tryin', alright?"

"Yeah, not hard enough. What about your old apartment? I saw in an ad it's vacant?"

I quickly shot that down, plopping back on the couch. "Unh-unh. Tony practically owns the place, too many memories."

"Well, there's a lot of places you can stay," my best friend opted.

"Yeah, not a lot that I can afford anymore," I snarked, cup to my lips.

"I saw your bank statement in the mail, I know you can afford it. Now tell me why you really don't want your own place?"

I groaned, letting my head fall in her lap.

Chyna again let her eyes roll and this time pushed my body off of hers.

She crossed her arms and legs alike, waiting for my ever so dramatic response.

"Chy," I complained. "I simply don't want to leave you here alone. I know how hard it is for you to function without me. Besides, this couch is far more comfortable than any bed at the Inn."

Chyna assessed my face and then dropped her arms. "I can't. I'm sorry, Syd, you gotta go."

With that, she up and walked down the hall.

"What, why?!"

Chyna sighed across the room. "Pay rent somewhere else. I love you, but your depressed ass is eating all my snacks and running men away. Get your shit together, okay?"

As she said that, I tried hiding the stash of Tastycakes from her pantry.

Chyna caught that and ran over, tackling me. We playfully wrestled along the sheets over her sectional and I ended up on top.

"You can never beat me," I said, giggling. "not over food, anyway."

"Yeah, yeah. It shows, fat ass," she squeaked, pinching my ass.

"Chyna!" I squealed, giggling as I tried pinching hers back.

"AHH! Okay, okay," she exclaimed through a fit of laughter.

I rolled off of her body and lied on my back, looking up at the high ceiling.

"I'm serious, Syd," she whispered, staring around my face.

Gulping, I nodded. I knew she was.

My eyelashes blinked uncontrollably as I was in my head.

Where to go? Do I even want to stay in LA when there's nothing here but a reminder of the life I used to live, totally ran and funded by the likes of him, I thought in my head.

"I'd give you the moon if I could but there comes a time when you have to leave the nest. Tony spoon-fed you and I don't wanna do the same. You get that, right?" she talked, trying to make me feel better. And it did sting less that way, she was right, after all.

It's not that I'm not independent, I just haven't had to be since I was a kid.

"I guess that's a lesson my parents forgot to teach me before they-- I killed them."

Chyna's lips parted like she wanted to say something but didn't know how. So I ripped the band-aid off.

"I know you heard his lawyer. So I killed them, okay? It was an accident. And don't sit there like 'why didn't I tell you,' you have no idea how much it hurts me every fucking day," I stopped to collect myself.

Continuing, I said, "it's not like I wanted to be with Tony, now you see why I put up with him. I owed him my life and he reminded me that every chance he got. I used to think I should've died with them, o-or went to jail. It wasn't until I met you and started Reignbow that I felt I had something to live for. But lately... I just don't know if that's still true."

That said, I exhaled through my nose and rotated my neck to meet her glossy eyes.

"I also think I really fucking need to get out of LA," I sniffled after a short laugh.

Chyna turned her frown into a small smile and wrapped her arms around me for a squeeze. Her two-toned lips were warm on my skin as they kissed all over my face.

"I had no idea. And I won't say sorry 'cause I know you hate that, but I wanna make you feel better. One word: Jetties," Chyna suggested, looking so excited she was about to explode.

When she saw the doubt on my face, she took my hand and kissed it before dropping it in her lap.

"You know you wanna dance, girl," she swayed me. With my mouth twisted, Chyna read I still wasn't sure and popped her eyebrows.

I laughed, taking my hand back to put to my forehead. "Christ, Chy. Okay, you know I love to dance."

"Eep! And you can wear that sexy little black jumpsuit," she added, rolling off of the couch.

***

"Excuse me," a woman said, walking in front of Chyna's iPhone camera.

The flash blinded her and she felt for the bathroom stall.

Chyna scowled at the woman for messing up my picture.

"It's blurry," Chyna said, showing us the photos.

"Those are the best ones," Rielle popped her tongue.

"Cute," I bubbled in Chy's ear.

The black jumpsuit I wore, one of the first designer ensembles I purchased myself when I found my confidence. I kept it tucked away in my closet, thinking it was too revealing in a bad way. It was Chyna who encouraged me to flaunt my stuff and embrace my feminine sexuality. Oddly enough -- and in the most platonic way-- it wasn't a man who first made me feel sexy, but my best friend. I owed her for that, she put me on to posing in such products that led to my eventual growth online.

"One lavender lady, please?" Amber ordered from the sports bar.

I looked around, bending my knees to the muffled music, and saw the poster in the window for Saturday drug brunches hosted at Jettie's. As unappealing as the name was, it was a very nice gay bar with cheap -- but strong-- drinks, good music, and lively people.

"Vodka-cranberry me," Lana shouted over the noise.

"Um, I'll take Coke and rum," Chyna hummed. The bartender with nicely groomed eyebrows nodded his head.

"And Coca-cola, too!" China added, just joking.

I laughed with the bartender and my girls.

"And for you, baby?" he had to ask.

I smiled at Jionni, the bartender and he knew.

"Strong island?" he guessed.

"You got it, lover," I beamed, chin in the palm of my hands.

"Watch how I make it," he grinned, moving fast around the counter to prep our orders.

"Ooo, I want one, too!" Rielle buzzed, already tipsy from pre-gaming at Chy's.

Jionni was fast with our alcoholic beverages and earned the ten dollar tip I slid him on the twelve dollar drink. There was more where that was coming from, he was our favorite mixologist; had he not been working, I probably wouldn't have ordered a 'strong island' from another bartender.

"Thank you, mama. Missed you around here," he sucked up.

"I need this," I said after a sip.

"Headed upstairs, Benny's on one tonight," he warned me about this one guard.

"Isn't he always?"

"Come on, girls!" Chyna led the way up the rainbow stairs.

"Cover your drinks, bitches!" Rielle shouted, showing me how to hold the cup as if it was my first time.

"She's just paranoid after being slipped X last time she came here," Lana told.

"I so want ecstacy right now," Amber dragged, sipping on her drink behind me.

Rielle, last in line, stood at the top of the stairs and yelled to us, "Hey, I'm not saying I wouldn't do it again, I just wanna know instead of being drugged."

"Keep your voice down, nark," I teased her.

"Bitch," she cackled, pushing me inside.

The upper level of Jettie's consisted of three parts: past the bathrooms was a lounge area where mostly people sat and talked, it was chill. Then, the glass-encased dance floor with a DJ and two bars complete with a skylight and pride flags decorating it. To the far right, an exit to the actual rooftop outdoors with pixie lights strung up, seating, and a cute mural on the brick wall.

I never minded the high population of well-dressed older black gay men, they usually kept to themselves, looking for trade. That, or they tried to dance battle me which just ended up in me making a new friend in them. No one ever fully vogued the house down, but there was your occasional bar-goer who had a few drinks and got a circle formed around them as they did the splits and probably got a few dollars from it.

The DJ was a cute Arab guy who always caught my eye but we never spoke. Sometimes he'd shout me out on the mic, though.

Chyna, Lana, Rielle, Amber and I demanded the center of the floor and started dancing to the throwbacks right away. At first, I kept it cute, not thinking I'd get carried away until the liquor hit.

"Uh-oh! We got royalty in the house tonight!" The DJ, Nas -- they called him for short-- announced.

"Give it up for the bad bitches of Reignbow!" he hollered, hyping the crowd.

I smiled up at him and he sent a smirk before retuning to his mix.

The song 'A thousand miles' came on, bringing the white girl out of us all. After the chorus it transitioned into some Tiktok song I hardly knew the dance to, but we got a good laugh out of it.

Me dropping it low led to bumping into Benny who didn't look pleased.

"Oh, Benny," I sarcastically whined.

"Look at 'em," Rielle laughed.

"Why so serious, Benny-boy?" Chyna snarked.

He just looked at us in his cap and all black.

Amber started to grind on him, that's when he walked away, stone-faced.

"Boo!" We taunted him, giggling.

*

It wasn't long before I started feeling a buzz and let my dancing reflect that. I'm no Teyanna Taylor but I just felt the music, channeling my inner Nomi from 'Showgirls.'

"Yes, Syd!" Chyna exclaimed, snapping in my face.

Someone whistled at the way I moved before a pair of hands grabbed my sides.

We winded to the reggae music as I lost myself.

"It's like they're fucking," I heard Rielle snicker.

Well, she wasn't wrong.

The song ended after a few minutes and I smiled.

Facing the bald lightskinned man, I pushed his shoulders back.

"You're good, thanks," I said.

He lifted his shirt to show his four pac of abs. "You wanna come back with me?"

"I'm tired now, thanks," I excused, circling around his body.

Chyna handed me my drink back and I knew she helped herself to some.

I had danced with four different men before I was on drink number two.

Having broken a sweat, Chuna, Rielle, and I went outside for some air.

There, I took the only open seat left.

"Can I sit here?" I asked the man to my right.

"I don't care, girl," he grinned.

He had a shaved head, one ear pierced, a white crochet fish-net shirt on, black skinny jeans, and platform boots.

"Whew, I am so hot," I breathed out.

"Yes you are," he complimented in my ear.

"Haha, aw, thank you, you too!"

"I so never knew this place existed," he talked.

I flipped the hair over my shoulder. "Where are you from?"

"Vegas! I'm just visiting a friend. I mean, I knew LA had gay bars, but this place is lit: good music, hot guys, all gender bathrooms, cheap drinks!"

"That's what I said! Hey, what's your name?" I wondered aloud.

He lit a cigarette and offered it to me first which I denied.

"Patrick," he revealed.

"Sydney," I let him know.

"Nice to meet you, Sydney."

With a drunk smile, I said, "You too. So, Vegas?"

"Yeah, not too far."

"But it seems worlds away- the differences."

"Oh, def. I love LA but I couldn't live here," Patrick said, shaking his head.

"No?" I listened.

"No way. I don't know how you do it," he said, taking a puff.

I looked over the views and took it in. The hustle and bustle, it was a bit much. LA isn't quite the utopia everyone mistakes it for. Not that Vegas is ideal, but still. Maybe I've outgrown the city or overstayed my welcome.

"Yeah," I sighed. "me either."

He then went on to ask about my business -- Reignbow-- and showed his interest, saying how he's a promoter with some legit connections out of Vegas. Patrick gave me his card and then the social media profiles of a well-known dancer, Anna Star.

2:11am

"Sydney?" Delaney picked up the phone.

"Oh, wow, I didn't think you'd answer," I said.

"I almost didn't, but Tom said it wouldn't stop ringing and he has to be up early."

Ugh, Tom. That's someone I don't miss. . .

"Sydney?" my aunt called out when I got quiet.

"I'm here. Uh, how are you?"

"Living. And you, sorry I didn't call after you had court. I didn't know if you'd wanna talk?"

"No, I-" I got cut off.

"Hey, come on, asshole! We need to use the bathroom," a bar-goer grew impatient as I locked myself inside the single toilet restroom, the other had four open stalls and one sink.

"Who's that, are you okay?" she asked.

"I'm... yeah."

"I love you, but I know you didn't call me at two in the morning for small talk," she pushed.

I looked down at my black boots on the wet floor.

"I didn't. Um, I was just wondering if, um, I could come stay with you again?"

"Oh-"

I didn't like the sound of that so I retracted, my finger hovering over the icon to end the call.

"Sorry, I didn't wanna impose. I know it's a lot, we barely talk. It was a big ask, I shouldn't have-"

She interrupted me talking to say, "You can come back, Sydney. At least until you find something better on your own and figure out what you're doing. I know things have been tough."

I dropped my head and sniffled. "T-thank you, Delaney. Um, okay, then, I'll see you in a few days, I guess. Thanks."

"Good night, Sydney," she said and then ended the call before I could.

Then, I actually did have to pee which was a whole event thanks to the jumpsuit I wore, I had to basically take the whole thing off while avoiding my flesh hitting the toilet seat and keeping my outfit off the unsanitary floor.

Finally, I joined my girls who were outside yelling.

I asked what happened and they just shouted in my face, only giving pieces of information. From what I gathered, someone was staring at Rielle and she wanted to fight.

Hype, Lana almost knocked over a table, causing a scene even though she was just being playful.

"Ladies," Benny's voice boomed.

"Oh, look at this guy," I snarked.

"Who called the Rent-a-cop?" asked Chyna, drunk.

We all snickered, walking out, already knowing our fate.

He walked after us, pushing us down the stairs.

A catcall got my attention, it was one of the men at a table.

I held up traffic on the staircase and used it as my stage, giving them a little burlesque-inspired show.

"Yeah, take it off!" a voice whistled.

When I went to peel off one strap, Chyna stopped me.

"Awh," the people groaned.

The bouncer at the door but his hand to my torso, stopping me from exiting.

A giddy grin on his face after my performance, he said, "No drinks outside. Trash right there."

"Oh," I giggled, gulping the rest of drink three down - another 'strong island.'