Vegas Knot (✔️) | Love Travels #1

Fourteen

My voice is shaking by the end of the evening from all the belting and hilarious singing I've been engaging in. Divya puts on her second favourite Backstreet Boys' song to end the evening and demands we all join her, but half way through the chorus, my voice starts breaking.

I hate it.

The room gets warmer and all eyes turn to me until Enrique steps up beside me and coaxes the microphone out of my hand, belting out the entire song in note even remotely the right key, not missing a single lyric.

"How do you know all the words to that song?" I ask when the music finally winds to its final notes, the lyrics replaced with a very colourful 'Thanks for Joining Us' bouncing across the screen.

"I'm sorry, how do you not know all the words to that song?" He pulls his hand to his chest as though affronted. "It is the iconic anthem of our time."

"Is it, though?"

Divya cuts in before he can answer. "Oh, it definitely is. I know you like to live under a rock, but it definitely was the anthem of our youth."

"See?" Enrique says. "Between that and Univision, you have my entire identity."

"Oh, no," I groan. "No you are worse than me."

"You married me," he teases, and I have to use all my strength to not let my face fall.

"Yes. Somehow," I joke back, forcing a smile onto my face.

We sit in the room for a few more minutes, shoving as much food as we can fit into our stomachs before someone raps on the door and flings it open unceremoniously. A grumpy old woman in a pink sparkly dress crosses her hands and taps her deep green heels onto the floor. "You. Out. Your time is up."

Any other day, Carla probably would have flipped her the bird, but she was too busy picking up an armful of leftovers.

"We'll be out in a moment," I answer before anyone else has a chance. "Just cleaning up a bit," I say as Carla shoves another mediocre samosa into her purse.

We manage to escape the establishment with only two dirty looks. But at least the ride home has more food and fewer music-related mishaps than the ride there had.

Instead of losing our hearing, I'm serenaded by the chatter of the girls reminiscing about their historical attempts to perform the Spice Girls songs. They interrupt themselves periodically to quiz Enrique on his knowledge of Spice Girls and his stances on popular culture. He does astonishingly well in the Spice Girls quiz, but that doesn't stop Carla from continuing her rapid-fire questions.

"How do you feel about feature films?" Carla asks as we near the hotel. "Because this one has a lot of movies."

I don't have to look at her to know she's talking about me.

"Who doesn't like movies?" I ask.

"A fair few people, apparently. I also think they make no sense, but we are here to learn things about this man you married, so let me ask the important questions."

"She says that like she's an investigative journalist," Lorena laughs. "You'd think she actually graduated instead of dropping out to design swimsuits."

"Those swimsuits paid for your plane tickets," Carla shoots back.

"Touché."

"Am I still supposed to answer?" Enrique's positioned his hand as though he's holding a microphone. "Yes, I do enjoy a good film. I'm a sucker for all things nature documentary, science fiction, and romance."

"He's a romantic," Lorena sighs, laying her head on Carla's shoulder. "Ask him what his favourite movie is."

"I would, but I have one more hard hitting question."