The Queens of San Diego (18+)

Chapter 1

JJ

Hillcrest always had this buzz about it, a pulse that ran through the streets, bringing life to everything it touched. The rainbow flags lining the sidewalks swayed gently in the breeze, each one a reminder of the community that had found its heart here. The neighborhood was unapologetically itself, a patchwork of vibrant colors and eclectic personalities. San Diego was my home, but Hillcrest? Hillcrest was where I felt alive. It wasn't just the LGBTQ+ hub of the city; it was a place that welcomed everyone, a kaleidoscope of people and stories, each as unique as the next.

Every Sunday, like clockwork, we came here for brunch. The tradition had started back in our freshman year of university, when we were all just a bunch of misfits trying to figure out who we were. Back then, brunch was more about soaking up last night's bad decisions and catching up on gossip, usually over cheap mimosas and greasy breakfast burritos. But over the years, it evolved into something else—something sacred. It became our way of staying connected, no matter how chaotic our lives had become.

Today, like most Sundays, we were meeting at The Sunny Side Up, a quirky little spot tucked into the heart of Hillcrest. The place was practically made for us. With its mismatched chairs and tables, walls lined with local art, and a retro vibe that somehow managed to feel modern, it was the perfect mix of cool and chaotic. Neon signs hung from the ceiling, half in English, half in Spanish, giving the place an energy that was both relaxed and electric.

The brunch crowd was always an eclectic mix of regulars and out-of-towners, everyone from hungover partygoers to well-dressed couples and groups of friends laughing over bottomless mimosas. Today was no different. The air buzzed with chatter, the sound of clinking glasses, and the occasional burst of laughter from a table across the room. It was the kind of place where you could be anyone you wanted to be, and no one would bat an eye. It was perfect.

I sat at our usual table by the window, sipping my first mimosa of the day and watching the world pass by outside. Over the years, Hillcrest had changed, sure, but the essence of it remained the same. The people, the energy, the sense of belonging—it was still there, stronger than ever. And no matter how far I traveled, how many countries I'd visited or cities I'd explored, this place always pulled me back. It was home, in the truest sense of the word.

I glanced at the empty seats around me, knowing that soon, they'd be filled with my crew—the same people I'd been brunching with for about a decade. We'd all come a long way since those early days, when everything felt uncertain and exciting, and the future was this big, looming question mark. Now? Now we were adults. Sort of.

Each of us had carved out our own little corner of the world, doing things we could've only dreamed of back then. Desmond had become a drag icon as Kate Chocolate Mousse, turning heads and breaking hearts across San Diego's nightlife scene. Martina, once Martin, had transformed into the queen of luxury real estate. Lukas had followed his family's footsteps into law, always the picture-perfect professional, though I knew there was more going on beneath the surface. And Izzy—fierce, unapologetically herself—was busy building her own empire in finance, taking risks most people would shy away from.

And then there was me—JJ, the travel influencer, the one who was always chasing the next adventure. From the outside, my life probably seemed perfect. I'd built this whole brand on being carefree and adventurous, traveling the world and living the kind of life people dreamed about. But sitting here, back in Hillcrest, I couldn't help but feel the weight of it all. It wasn't as easy as it looked, and sometimes, it was downright lonely.

We'd all grown, sure, but not without our scars. We weren't the same people we'd been in college, but in some ways, we were still figuring things out, still searching for something more. Love, success, happiness—whatever it was, it always felt just a little out of reach.