1
KAI
Dakarai had always been curious about what it would be like to date himself and why no one else ever seemed to want to. As he stood outside a bright yellow retro theater flowerless, slightly hungry, and having opened all his own doors that evening, he couldn’t say he recommended it.
Dakarai, or Kai as he preferred, bit the inside of his lip, and his throat felt dry as he looked up at the marquee:
THE HERITAGE PLAYHOUSE PRESENTSCYPHRSOLD OUT
Excited concertgoers filed in below, illuminated by the glittering Hollywood bulbs of the theater’s entrance, all dressed well enough to take the stage themselves.
As Kai joined them, he suddenly had the air knocked from his lungs by someone going against the current.
“You need tickets?” the someone asked in lieu of an apology.
Kai raised an eyebrow at the scalper.
Tickets weren’t his problem—he’d started with four: for him; his best friend, Bobby; Bobby’s girlfriend, Winter; and Winter’s best friend, Emmy. He’d purchased them online and not from
a guy in a trench coat, like Kai’s father said he used to do in “the good ol’ days.” But now Kai only needed one after his friends had informed him that they would no longer be in town for the concert—or, in fact, the entire summer.
“You selling better friends?” Kai muttered to the scalper, brushing himself off, though it was unlikely that replacements for the three traitors could fit up the grifter’s sleeve.
Bypassing the line into the theater, the tech-averse Kai flashed his paper ticket, the only one in a sea of scannable digital tickets. The red-carpeted stairs led him to a cozy, dimly lit area. He found his seat, number twelve in the front row, and settled in. Seat eleven next to him remained empty.
Another solo attendee, perhaps? he thought.
As the rest of the theater lights flickered, signaling that the concert was about to start, the openers—two female rappers who had recently gone viral on TikTok—charged from backstage and launched into their performance without introduction. The audience swelled as the crowd rose to their feet and screamed their throats raw. Kai rose as well, unconcerned that his six-foot-five frame would ruin the experience of those behind him. He had, after all, paid just like anyone else. And it seemed that his friends, his new coworker at the bookstore, and perhaps the entire universe, were all trying to ruin his last summer before college. He was determined to have fun, even if it was purely out of spite. In fact, he wished there was a spotlight on him right then so everyone could see just how happy he was to be alone at the show. This was a new season of Kai. A reboot. It was solo summer. Selfish summer. The summer of Dakarai.
Any inhibitions he had left were gone when CYPHR walked out onto the stage, leather pants clinging to his slender frame, a white tank top stretched out around his neck, exposing several tattoos scattered across his chest and down both arms. He had well-defined features and expressive large brown eyes that were hooded by a heavy brow line. When CYPHR looked up, Kai could finally see his face clearly on the screen that backlit his form.
“Who in here knows a little band called EZF? If you’re a Dropout, make some noise!” CYPHR yelled into the mic. The crowd roared. Then CYPHR put his fingers to his lips, and everyone instantly hushed. Teachers wished they could have this power. CYPHR continued in a softer tone, “Now, who in here has no idea what I’m talking about and came here just for me?”
The small venue became one loud scream.
CYPHR made a winding gesture in the air, a signal to his band. When Kai’s favorite song started, his indignant determination to have fun gave way to genuine enjoyment. Making use of the empty space next to him, he danced and sang out of tune with everyone else.
If we kiss once, we can’t take it back
But if we kiss this once, I can kiss you again
Let’s make another mistake
The first mistake is already made Preoccupied, Kai didn’t notice that someone had come down his row until they were almost in front of him. Their face was hidden beneath a black bucket cap, and the stage backlit them in a way that darkened their features. This was the person who had bought seat eleven from him only hours ago. Kai was intrigued yet slightly disappointed as he anticipated having to shrink his range of motion—and therefore the sincere pleasure he had finally found being alone.
Before Seat Eleven could sit, an amp blew out, releasing a feedback loop that pierced through the theater and caused everyone to collectively clap their hands over their ears. Startled, Seat Eleven stumbled on a purse on the ground, and Kai instinctively reached out, catching them by the arm before they fell over the loge-level balcony. The screech ceased as quickly as it had punctuated the air, and Kai’s focus shifted entirely to the stranger’s chipped black nails digging into his skin, the electricity of the moment passing back and forth between them within the conduit of their touch.
As though irritated that they had just been saved from having accidental floor seats, the stranger brusquely pushed Kai away, waking him up to the commotion surrounding them.
Kai was unaware of what his body was doing. He wasn’t even sure if he was breathing. But if he’d been smiling, it dropped right off his face the moment Seat Eleven finally looked up so Kai could see who was under the bucket cap.
The person he saw was striking, sharp and pristine, as if cut into existence with a blade. They turned their head to the side, clearly embarrassed, revealing an angular jaw that seemed unaccustomed to smiling.
Kai’s mind went blank as the ringing persisted in his ears. All he could manage to say was “What the fuck?”
2
ELIAS
One Week Ago
Elias was lying on his bed, flat on his face, wondering if staying there any longer would cause him to dematerialize and fall through the mattress. It was a hot, humid day in New York City, and there was no part of his body that wanted to move even a millimeter. The open windows teased him; the air outside was just as hot, like a warm breath from the underbelly of the city.
Elias cast his gaze to the other side of the room at a neatly made bed. It’d been unslept in for the past few weeks.
This was the extent of his post–high school plan. He thought that maybe he and his twin brother would try to start a business together, or perhaps move somewhere with turquoise beaches and fewer people. The two of them had been in New York all their lives and had always talked about seeing more of the world. William decided to see the world without him by way of the US Navy. They’d written to each other as often as they could, but the letters abruptly stopped one day. The last one read:
Hey Eli,Hope you’re good. Miss you. But I got to say, your last letter stung. Mom and Dad are going to do what they’re going to do, and Nia’s not a kid anymore. Maybe things weren’t like this before, but now it feels like you’re the one needing us more than we need you. I didn’t abandon the family. I found a place for myself over here. Maybe it’s your turn to do the same. You’re a few minutes older than I am, but you’re not my big brother.—WilliamSliding the letter under his pillow for the hundredth time, Elias looked up at the popcorn ceiling and sank into his thoughts.
Without William, Elias’s future felt uncertain. Despite his lengthy in-school and out-of-school suspension record, Elias was a decent student. Yet, college still didn’t seem like the right path. He graduated with a class of about seventy-five other kids, most of whom only went to college to prove something to their parents. Others joined the military, some got jobs at supermarkets or delivering food, and some did nothing at all. Because the class was so small, everyone knew everyone else’s business. When they all found out William was joining the military, everyone assumed Elias would do the same.
Flailing his arms and legs to wrestle his way out of a tangle of sheets, Elias finally decided to direct his anger at his hair. His fingers found the edge of the bed, and he swung his legs to the side. In a few steps, he reached the bathroom.
His short hair had been bleached a pale gold by William. The color suited him for a while, but he had overgrowth of dark roots and no William to redo it for him.
With unsteady hands, Elias grabbed the clippers from the drawer and clicked them on. He carefully began sculpting his hair down to its natural black. The clippers jammed, so Elias slammed his hand against the back of them. Despite the loud noise, it wasn’t doing anything. He cursed under his breath when he hit them too hard and the front cover popped off and cracked on the floor, leaving him 50 percent blond and 100 percent over everything.
“Lord, I see what you have done for others. When will it be my turn?” Elias muttered to the ceiling, expelling an exasperated breath.
Elias’s little sister, Nia, poked her head into the bathroom. Her hands gripped the doorframe, which had thick layers of cracking plasticky paint. Years of weather fluctuations caused the old wood to shrink and expand and the paint to separate like a molting skin.
“Favorite big brother,” Nia said in a singsong voice, “you busy?”
“Don’t do that,” Elias replied. “What do you want?”
“Luis invited me to play basketball with him and some other people. Can you come with me?”
“It’s too hot. Just take your phone with you. I’m here,” he said, picking up the broken piece of the razor. As soon as he began to correct his error of not closing the bathroom door in the first place, the unmistakable sound of their mother bickering with their father on the phone in the other room reached him. A heavy exhale escaped him, and he opened the door again. “Actually, I would literally do anything to get out of this house, but I can’t go outside looking like this,” he said, pointing to his half-shaven hair.
Nia folded her arms. “I thought Nike Panda was the look you were going for.”
“You always got something to say. Just help me!” Elias whined, satisfied when the thick bathroom door and the buzzing of the razor Nia had repaired were enough to drown out his mother’s agitated voice.
●●●
Grabbing his keys and phone, Elias yelled to their mother that he was going out with Nia. He groaned all the way down the six flights of stairs while Nia hopped down them in twos. When he reached the stoop outside the building, he paused to admire the blue sky, partially obscured by the tall New York City walk-ups.
“Nia, you’re late! Come on!” Luis yelled from the court.
As Elias approached with Nia, the other players instinctively retreated; the atmosphere noticeably shifted, silently acknowledging his presence. Their eyes bored into him, an unspoken fact lingering—he wasn’t wanted there, precisely why Nia always brought him. They played more fairly when he was around. He was used to it, but these little boys needed to learn respect quickly if they were going to continue playing with his little sister.
Nia tossed Elias her bag and charged toward the open court.
“Ignore them. They’re just worried about getting beat by a girl,” Luis said, placing a hand on Nia’s back. “Let’s play.”
Copyright © 2025 by Talia Tucker. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
