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The bathroom of Donna and Kory’s apartment is too small. No matter how they try to settle, their knees or elbows always brush and knob together. Even when they stand on opposite sides of the cramped room, Kory can smell Donna’s perfume and shampoo with striking clarity.
Call Me by Blondie plays again on the radio. It might be the hundredth time she heard it in the past week. It doesn’t get old. Donna mouths the lyrics as she blow-dries her hair. They make eye contact in the mirror as Kory finishes curling another lock of her hair. When Donna smiles, the far edges of her eyes rise with the rest of her face. If the power went out in their apartment, Kory would only need to tell a joke for the whole place to light up again.
When Debbie Harry winds up to sing the chorus, the two women join in. Kory uses her curling iron to mimic a microphone, and starts laughing halfway through when her eyes meet Donna’s again in the mirror. Neither of them can match Harry’s talent, but they surpass her in enthusiasm as they try to dance in the cramped room.
Donna turns the radio off at the end of the song. “We better finish getting ready, we don’t wanna wait in line at the bar.”
“I know, I know. I just have to do my makeup, I think.” Kory finishes brushing out her curls. She’s wearing an off the shoulders, pink, cropped top and a pair of high waisted, yellow pants. Donna, on the other hand, is wearing a white jumpsuit that fits her just right, accentuating all her best features. She looks flawless.
“Let me help you,” she offers. “Sit in front of me.”
Kory walks over and hops onto the counter, leaning forward to level her face with Donna’s to allow her to work her magic.
Donna’s soft and few touches on her skin keep surprising her. Just when she thinks she is used to the rhythm in which her hands brush against her face, she does something new. Kory can smell her perfume even better now; she smells like fresh wildflowers. A whole field of them live on a few concentrated points on her wrist. Kory hopes the smell will rub off on her, rest with her forever. She wants to fall asleep and wake up smelling it.
“Anything wrong, honey?” She asks, jolting Kory out of her thoughts.
“No, no. I’m just fine. How is it looking?”
“Everything looks good on you, I think you know that.”
“You’re too much.” Kory smiles as her heart wells up at the compliments. Of course she knows she’s beautiful, she has been told as much her whole life. But when Donna says it, the world stops. When Donna says it, it takes a whole new meaning. How can a person this gorgeous think Kory is beautiful? Does she even know what her words do to Kory?
“Alright, all done.” Donna takes a step back. “Tell me what you think.”
Kory gets off the counter and turns around, taking in her reflection. Donna worked absolute magic, just as she thought she would. Bold, pink eyeshadow that stands out against her skin and brings out her eyes, alongside perfectly applied, red lipstick. “It’s amazing.”
“Thanks.”
Kory leans forward and kisses her on the cheek, leaving a mark. “Oh, sorry–” She reaches for tissues, but Donna stops her.
“I like it, it’s cute.” At her smile, Kory’s heart flutters again. “We better get going.”
“You’re right.”
As Kory pulls her strappy red heels on, Donna re-applies her perfume one last time and grabs her purse. “Alright, we’re off?”
The walk to the bar is breezy. A few people recognize Kory, so she holds quick conversations with them and makes sure to get back to Donna as fast as she can. They chat about one of Donna’s recent photoshoots with Anna Bayle and Iman for a new Versace campaign. She describes every outfit and pose to the most minute detail, and Kory drinks it all up like fine wine.
The cool wind blows around them and chills their skin as they make their way through the busy New York streets, just as hectic as they were hours ago. The city flows in the same beat and rhythm as Kory’s steps on the gray sidewalks; she and Donna move along with it, and the streets seem to part ways for them.
The club’s pop-rock music is loud enough for Kory to feel the bass in her stomach. She smiles and looks over at Donna, glimmering under the colorful lights. A sleazy guy tries to sidle up to them and Kory has to resist the urge to physically push him off, pretending she needs to use the bathroom. They get two shots at the bar and before Kory can even react to the burn of the alcohol down her throat, Donna grabs her hand and takes her over to the dance floor.
David Bowie sings about dancing with such conviction in the joy of it, so of course no one can resist moving along to his words. Kory feels every worry she had walking through the door leave her mind and render her blissful. When she looks over at Donna, her breath hitches. She cannot tear her eyes away even if she tries. She could never, staring right into the face of the divine.
Her gorgeous, long black hair falls down her shoulders, framing the delicate heart-shaped features of her face. The silhouette of her clothes highlights her strong figure, built from years of training with the amazons. Kory can’t think. She can’t breathe. She absolutely cannot look away.
When Donna looks back at her, she grins widely, and Kory can swear the colorful lights of the club get more vivid. Everyone around them fades away, it’s only Donna and Kory smiling at each other.
She doesn’t know how much time passes, but when they walk back to the bar hand in hand a different song is playing from the one she remembers. Kory flirts with the bartender to get free drinks, and Donna can’t stop laughing for long enough to take even a sip. Kory feels her heart swell up, she’d do anything to keep listening to Donna’s crystal clear laughter, more beautiful than any piece of music in history. She’d be perfectly content to sit at this bar and listen to Donna laugh for the rest of time.
They have a few more drinks and talk about work, then go dance with some girls that recognize Kory. The air around them smells a little like sweat and cigarettes, but Kory still smells Donna’s perfume over it all. Now they both can’t tear their eyes away from each other, with all the dozens around them they still can’t look elsewhere.
Kory finds Donna’s hand and laces their fingers together, finding her way into the bathroom. The thumping of drums and bass becomes muffled, and the smell of the air a little cleaner. The place is clean and simple with white tiling all around and only two stalls. One of them is locked, and Kory hears retching on the other side.
“Are you alright?” She knocks on the door.
“Yeah, I– I’m fine,” the girl on the other side answers weakly.
“Do you need help?” Donna asks, Kory hadn’t noticed that she followed her towards the stall. “We can get you some water.”
“Open the door,” she implores.
After a moment the door unlocks and opens to show a young girl on her knees in front of the toilet. Her permed blonde hair is a bit frizzy and her makeup is smudged. She’s wearing a small black dress and matching heels, both still clean despite the circumstances.
Kory immediately kneels next to her and holds her hair up. “What happened? Did you have too much to drink?”
“Yeah,” she nods faintly. “I think so.”
“Where are your friends?”
“They had to–” She stops and coughs loudly. “They had to go. I don’t know where they are now.”
“How old are you, honey?” Donna asks.
“Nineteen.”
Kory looks up at Donna, who wears the same worried expression. Donna says, “Okay, I’ll go get you some water.”
At the same time, Kory asks, “Do you have money for a cab?”
As Donna exits the bathroom, the girl shakes her head. “I was gonna walk back. I live in Tribeca.”
“Okay, well you’re clearly not in a state for that. We’ll pay for your fair, just tell me your address. Do you think you need to throw up again?” With another shake of her head from the girl Kory helps her up. “Wash your face. My friend will be here with the water and we’ll make sure you get home safe.”
Donna returns with a bottle of water and they make sure the young girl drinks it. They take her outside and get her in a cab back to Tribeca.
Kory hands the driver a stack of bills. “Make sure she makes it into the building safely, and keep the change.”
A few minutes later they’re back at the bar, enjoying another drink in silence. Kory looks warmly at Donna over the rim of her glass. Donna’s eyes glint as she smiles at her.
“Wanna go out for a cigarette?” She asks. Kory nods and they make their way out together.
Kory’s not sure what time it is, but she can guess it’s been several hours since they arrived. The cool air that grazed her arms on the walk to the bar now sticks freezing needles into her skin, raising goosebumps along her exposed arms and legs. She huddles next to Donna for some warmth and lights both their cigarettes with her finger. The butt of Donna’s cigarette has a pink lipstick stain on it. Kory imagines how it’d feel to take a drag from it for a moment. Then she looks at Donna, who’s staring off to the horizon, and imagines how it’d feel to kiss her directly. How warm would her lips be, how her body would feel next to Kory’s, how she would taste. She wonders if her perfume would smell different from up close, if with her eyes closed and her lips against Donna’s she could be transported into a real wildflower field. Only she and the woman next to her there.
“Is something wrong?” Donna’s voice snaps her out of her thoughts.
“No, no.” Kory shakes her head and takes a drag from her cigarette. “Everything is perfect. Thank you for taking me out tonight.”
“Thank you for coming with me. I was really hoping you’d have fun.”
“I am. Also, I forgot to pee.” She starts laughing. Donna joins her, giggling as she puts a warm hand on her arm.
They sink back into a comfortable silence and Kory allows her mind to wander back into their apartment. The tiny kitchen and bathroom, their two cramped bedrooms. Many days of the week they end up talking into the long hours of the night, falling asleep in the same bed. Waking up on those mornings, opening her eyes to see Donna laying beside her, is the greatest bliss in Kory’s day.
“How about we get a cab home?” She finds herself saying.
They sit together in the back of a yellow taxi, hand in hand, perfectly quiet. The lights of the city blur around them in the dark of the night. Donna leans her head on Kory’s shoulder, closing her eyes in peace.
They drunkenly stumble into their dark apartment at three in the morning, keeping the lights off out of the bathroom. Kory takes her makeup off and watches Donna slowly put her jewelry on the counter. They’re both silent, sneaking looks at one another. Kory looks away whenever she is noticed; she suspects Donna does the same.
When they are finished Donna silently follows Kory to her bedroom. They crash on the bed in comfortable nightgowns and look at each other. Kory tries to label every speck of color in Donna’s blue eyes. Their faces are so close she can map the landscapes of Donna’s face perfectly. She feels an urge to reach forward and ghost her fingers over the hills of Donna’s cheeks, the bridge of her nose and her lips. Maybe it’s the alcohol and maybe it’s her intoxicating smile, but Kory follows her instincts.
Donna doesn’t flinch, she accepts Kory’s touch and leans into her hand. Kory cups her face and traces her thumb over the curves of Donna’s lips. Her skin is softer than fresh snow and warmer than the sun. Every bone in Kory’s body tells her to take the leap and kiss Donna, but when she tries her muscles fail her. She lies in agony, unable to move herself. She prays in her mind for any bit of strength that will allow her this freedom, but the universe lets her down.
She can only stare at Donna’s eyes, her perfect sapphire blue eyes. They reflect the ocean and the sky into one another and let Kory feel the dizzying delight of soaring through the air even when her feet are planted firmly on the ground.
She doesn’t ever want to move, but her hands and eyelids eventually grow too heavy to bear and she falls into a deep slumber. Through the night she dreams of smooth midnight black hair and eyes bluer than every ocean and gem combined. She dreams of wildflower fields and cigarette smoke and the smell of alcohol. At night she dreams of Donna, and in her dreams she’s strong enough to do all she wants.
She wakes up the next morning with a pounding in her head and her hair in a total mess. Donna’s sour face and tired eyes express the same notion. They wordlessly manage to get themselves out of the house and into a diner booth around the corner. The red vinyl seats are durable underneath them and the checkered floors are a little dirty. The soft 1950s rock that plays in the background is unfamiliar to her.
They don’t speak for a long time. Kory doesn’t know what to say. Even if she did, she doubts she would be able to. Only when she’s poured a second cup of coffee and their food arrives does she manage to open her mouth.
“Thank you for taking me out yesterday. I had an amazing time.” She cracks a smile, and her body melts in relief when Donna gives her a soft one in return.
“I did, too. We should really do it again.”
The food is a perfect cure for her pounding headache and dry mouth. Hearty scrambled eggs and bacon, toast with an amount of butter that should be criminal, and fluffy, sweet pancakes. She scarfs down the entire meal without looking up from her plate, housing down cups of coffee faster than she would water.
Long after their meal is finished Kory and Donna remain in the vinyl booth. They talk for hours on end and Kory loses track of what they say. She floats above their conversation, only focused on Donna’s animated face as she speaks about her work. She could live off the look on her face when she talks about the clothes she saw in her last few photoshoots, the poses she had the models make, her visions for each of these shoots.
Kory can’t register a single word of what either of them say after a point, she only wishes to stay in this bubble forever. Listening to old music on a comfortable seat after an incredible meal with the most beautiful person in the universe, drinking up her smile like her own life saving medicine. All she can do is rest her chin in her palm and stare at the wonder in front of her.
She’s shot back down to earth when the tip of Donna’s shoe touches hers. She perks up and meets Donna’s eyes, both wearing the same shy smile. Kory never thought she would describe herself as shy, she has enough self confidence for dozens of people after all. She always says what she feels and means, no matter the price. So why is it that when Donna looks at her with a smile that suggests they have some sort of little secret do her knees go weak, why does she lose the ability to speak?
And they do have a secret. It’s the dumbest little secret Kory could ever think of. They’re playing footsie underneath the table, that’s all there is to it. It is still the most precious thing she’s ever held, this secret. More precious than the riches she had as a princess, the powers she possesses, it’s as precious as her freedom. There is only one thing worth more in her eyes, she remembers when Donna nudges her under the table again. Her hands tingle with the memory of Donna’s face beneath them, the freedom of wandering the night before, studying the curve of her lips and nose. The tips of her fingers burn with the desire to feel again, to know more. They beg for the line of her pulse, her collarbone and her strong shoulders.. Every inch of her body now needs to know Donna better, inside and out.
Their feet keep bumping against each other underneath the table, the tips of their leather boots kiss the way Kory dreamt of the entirety of last night. Donna scooches forward in her seat and their knees begin to flirt, too. Kory thanks x’hal she can’t blush and sneaks Donna another secretive smile, biting the tip of her tongue not to say anything. She doesn’t dare to ruin this moment, she can’t.
They leave the diner in silence, hand in hand. They walk back to their apartment through the wintery, late morning streets of the city. Kory watches their breaths fog in front of them and laughs when she sees Donna shiver.
When the key to their apartment clicks open and the old door creaks, Kory realizes it smells like home. The lavender floor cleaners Donna bought, the spice rack in their mini kitchen, the citrus soaps in their bathroom. She stands in the doorway with the coat on her arm, takes a deep breath and smiles widely.
“What are you thinking about?” Donna asks.
“You.”