Glory.

5

Blu chose the table in the corner—cop instinct. My back against the wall so I could monitor what was behind him, without having to worry about a surprise on my end. It was kinda funny how this shit was imbedded in us.

The restaurant was unlike any I had been in—maybe once or twice in my childhood, when my dad would gather the whole family for some half-assed reason that meant something to him. Nowadays, my set ups were brothels, bars, strip clubs or any place loud enough to silence my even louder mind. There were no children, no drunken men, or naked women parading around—quite boring if you ask me. "How come I don't smell any food?" I asked, looking on the side of me to glance out of the window. We were overlooking the whole area. I lived for night life so I nearly drooled at the sight of the city being lit up by headlights, streetlights, bright windows and shops.

Ancient looking photos of drag queens, along with paintings were framed on the white walls—dotted around were cozy tables with pristine table linen and leather chairs. A grand fountain stretched from the ceiling to the floor sparkled like a frozen waterfall in the center of the room.

"You don't waltz into an elegant place like this and expect to smell a burger or a steak." The fabric of the seat covers stuck to my sweaty legs, the low hung lamps and chandeliers weren't helping my body cool down either. I didn't feel right in here. Besides the occasional chatter amongst guests and workers, along with silverware clinking, it was pretty quiet. And I didn't like it.

"My god, it's trade in the building!" A loud voice startled me, and Blu. His eyebrows furrowed in bewilderment as I looked up at the heavyset drag queen sashaying her way over to our table. Her dress was littered with crystals, her hair pinned up and long stiletto nails pointed our way. The queen's makeup was bright and far some subtle—but I reminded myself that this was not a regular woman. "How you two doing?" She purred, smirking at Blu. His lips turned downward and I stifled a chuckle.

"Fine." I answered on both of our behalves. Her eyes narrowed as she looked back and forth between the both of us. Blu seemed uncomfortable under her gaze as he held the menu in his hand, his eyes meeting hers.

"Only time trade come here is when cops stickin' they noses all up in here," she fanned around. "So what's the deal, 'cause 5-0 ain't allowed, sweetie."

"We're on a date actually." Blu spoke up, scrunching up his face as if he were offended. "I wish I was a cop though," he added, followed by a snort. "Their bodies."

"I know that's right." The queen laughed. "Chile, y'all can go 'head and sandwich me though–cop or not." She fanned herself. Her and Blu continued a short conversation before she went on her way.

The lights dimmed and a small band came out—more drag queens came from out of nowhere, all in the same dress as the previous queen had been in. They began a short performance that made my head start to pound. "What's the point of being here if we aren't gon' ask around?" I snapped, causing Blu to scoff.

"Did you not hear shit about what she said?" He snapped right back. "No one was gonna talk if we came in badged up and interrogating people. Be smart and stop thinking the 7-5 way—you're on Double O's clock." He seemed awfully on edge and usually I'd argue back, or make one last remark but I'd hate to engage in a screaming match with this asshole and blow our goddamn covers.

I scanned the menu, but the headache I had killed whatever appetite I'd come in with. The waiter appeared, voicing what I think was a request for my drink order. I closed the menu and rubbed at the ache starting behind my eye again. "Vodka?" I begged.

"Water." Blu responded. "We're still deciding on what to eat." He flashed her a smile.

"I'm goin' to the bathroom." I abruptly said. The waiter pointed me in the right direction.