velvet paradise (ftm x fem)

Track 17

ALAIA

Thick, rippled clouds of orange-pink stretch the sky in a cozy blanket. Los Angeles County is awash in a serene, surreal light as the sun sets over the horizon. Glamorous and celestial views are at every turn in the City of Angels, but our vantage point has left me in awe. Secluded from the city's chaos, the overlook is a peaceful haven. The cityscape expands before us, dazzling displays of dancing lights brightening as dusk approaches. As the delicate breeze stimulates my limbs, it enlivens me with a belief in never-ending potential.

Jaire encourages me to take photos for social media and volunteers to be my photographer. While I pose against the backdrop, he compliments me with each snap. Most responses are a breathless "damn," but others are humorous as he tries to direct my poses. "Look to the right as if someone called your name," he instructs, moving as he alters his angle. Emitting a cackle, I swivel my head per his directives. After the camera shutters, Jaire says, "Yeah, we're adding modeling to your resume."

His gaze shifts towards his phone, prompting me to approach and inspect what he's captured. "You better not have fucked up my shots," I joke.

"I can't fuck up natural beauty."

An illuminated screen arrives at my fingertips. "You're very lenient with your phone."

"It's the one for business, so nothing wild is on it."

"Oh, so you got wild shit on your personal?"

He chuckles and scratches his neck. "Depending on what you call wild."

I swipe through the photographs, appreciating how my knee-length sundress fits my frame and contrasts with the stunning sunset. Amor is the only non-professional photographer who takes pleasing photos of me. Everyone else has a shaky grasp or doesn't exploit my angles. Jaire pays attention to detail and highlights my best features. "Send those to me," I half-ask, half-command. "And nothing's too wild for me. I was afraid of swiping backward and stumbling upon someone's nudes."

"Naaah." He gives a subtle shake of his head. "I keep shit like that in a separate folder."

With a relaxed gait, he approaches light blue Adirondack chairs. A firepit adds an intimate effect to the seating area. Towering overhead, a tree provides a natural canopy while its leaves rustle in the wind. Serenity and Dion's love holds eternal immortalization in the tree's rough bark. Engraved within a heart, a plus sign is the only separation between their initials.

Jaire sits, and I settle beside him. He grips the armrest of my chair, pulling it as close as possible. After a startled giggle, I say, "Well, okay."

"Just so we can hear each other," he says with a sly smile. With a chime, my mini photoshoot displays on my iPhone. He places his device on his lap, reclines, and revels in the landscape. He observes the condensed veils shrouding and darkening the atmosphere above. "I'm cutting it off with Sunni."

"Why?" I ask, trying to keep my tone neutral.

"It's time. I want a relationship that isn't contractual, transactional, and inauthentic." He sighs and rubs his palm over his hair in steady strokes. "I'm cool with staying friends, but I want something more than sex. My soul seeks depth and reciprocal affection. I don't want that with Sunni." The cadenced bobbing of a branch's shadow produces a captivating image against his silhouette. His jaw flexes before he faces me. "To be honest, I'm feeling you, Lai. We're in a complicated situation, but I can't deny our connection."

Evening insects make their presence known. Their buzzes and chirps occupy the silence between us. Jaire focuses on the dirt beneath his sneakers as his words hang in the air. My stomach turns as I rub my finger over the chair's polished wood. My response has the power to change our budding friendship, which I adore. Although I value our companionship, taking risks is a fundamental part of life. Every success and failure is a chance for personal growth. If I hadn't taken disastrous risks, I wouldn't be enjoying a picturesque evening with a legendary producer in Los Angeles.