At Ambrosia, Milly buys drinks for her friends, then saunters to the thumping DJ booth. “Hi.”
Ethan waves her up to join.
She politely extends her palms, staying in the shadows.
🎵 “Around the Way Girl” – LL Cool J 🎵
An unshaven middle-aged man approaches, wearing a wrinkled jacket over a software convention T-shirt. He glances at her earrings made from guitar picks. “Are you Ethan’s muse? Does he owe everything to you?”
“No, this is all his idea.” Milly offers a little smile.
“How refreshing,” says the scruffy man.
“What is?”
“Your modesty.” He sips beer.
“It’s just the truth.”
“Also in short supply.” He listens to half a song. “Ambrosia means ‘food of the gods’ — immortality.”
“And here’s Ethan”—Milly shrugs—“keeping this old music alive.”
“I hadn’t thought about it that way.”
“There’s a lot in a name.”
The scruffy man nods and leaves.
A few minutes later, the male bartender crosses the crowded dance floor holding scotch on the rocks. “Top shelf, from the owner.” He extends the glass to Milly.
“Oh?” She accepts. “Thanks.”
“Reserved for the best.” The bartender’s head dips to Ethan.
Blinking, Milly asks, “Who’s the owner?”
The scruffy man toasts her from the bar.
She raises her drink.
“And …” From his pocket, the bartender produces white-framed glasses.
“There they are!” Milly smiles. “Merci.”
Ethan meets her girlfriends on his break.
“We love your music!”
They chat a bit. He gets on well with them. Ethan returns to the DJ booth.
One friend claps, grinning. “He’s so cute!”
Another shrugs. “I didn’t think a guy like Ethan was your type.”
Milly smirks. “Why, because I’m White and he’s — short?”
Her friend averts her eyes with embarrassment.
Kevala snickers.
The gals trot to the bathroom to do powdered drugs. Kevala abstains. Milly takes one quick snort and heads back to the dance floor. The other two finish the rest.
Milly’s face settles as the drug wears off. She abruptly ceases dancing.
On the patio, staring at the Moon, Milly waits alone.
Something’s on her mind.