The Edifice

22. Sugar Mommy

I have to blink my vision back into focus as the paparazzi cameras bathe us in a sudden outpour of light, the clicks of their cameras like the buzzing of locust wings. The initial ecstatic roar from the crowd turns to cries of attention.

"Katy!"

"Katy! I love you!"

"Katy, this way! When's your next album, Katy?"llian

"Are you still on speaking terms with Saffron? Can you confirm her rehab admission? Katy??"

"What's happening Katy? Is this guy threatening you?"

The woman who emerged from inside pays no heed to the cameras beyond a benign smile, even as the camera flashes center on her. I don't know why they even bother. The piercing white light from the reporters fades in comparison to her own glow.

Her brown skin is as dark as umber, contrasting brilliantly with the golden leotard she wears. The skin tight fabric seems to be made of solid a single, glistening snakeskin that coils around her body as she moves. That same gold shimmers behind her feline, upturned eyes. Ripples through the roots of her long, simple afro. Courses through feather-thin lines that pattern her skin like glowing veins.

She barely glances at me, focusing a gaze of cool derision on Lee as she steps closer, curling sharp nails into the leather of his jacket. "Kiss me."

To my shock, he obeys immediately, stooping low sweep up this Katy woman and place a brief, sweet kiss on her lips. The crowd howls on in shock and support and the camera flashes grow even more frenzied, jolting me with an awful memory of the flashing lightbulb in Bob's basement.

"Is that your boyfriend Katy? What's his name?"

"Are you pregnant?"

"Wait, that's Lee What's-his-name! Lee! Are you back together for a new album? What happened to your arm? Who's the human with you, Lee? Is she dating Katy too?"

"You two. Inside," Katy hisses, yanking Lee towards the door with her pincer-grip on his arm. With her spare hand, she tugs a note of money from her bra and tosses it at the bouncer, who looks as mortified as I feel. "You. Oger. Keep him out properly next time. For fuck's sake."

Lee reaches back and grabs my hand as he follows Katy inside, pulling me along with him as we escape the roaring chaos of the street and emerge into a quieter foyer, unbefitting a club.

"Are we dating again?" He asks mildly as Katy relinquishes her grip on him. An attendant rushes over from the coatroom beside us and takes his jacket. I only tug mine tighter when one offers the same.

"Pfft. The Oracle made me front page again with one of their stories about faking my sexuality. Who am I to deny them a reward for such dedication to trashy journalism?" Katy says sourly, accepting a glass of champagne from yet another attendant and washing her mouth with it. With a flick of her hand, the club workers scurry away as though spellbound. "What do you want, Lee? More importantly, what the fuck have you done to your face?"

She doesn't stop walking as she talks, leading us from a lavish foyer to an equally glamourous set of private rooms. Were it not from the faint sounds of pulsing pop music emanating from distant dancefloors, I'd hardly believe it to be the heart of young, rich party-life that Lee had made The California out to be.

"Katy, I'd like you to meet my friend Liv." Lee ignores her question, patting my shoulder. "Olivia, I'd like you to meet my patron, Katy Perry?"

"Excuse me?" I choke. "Are you being funny, Lee?"