Anthony walks into Camille’s apartment with a bottle of Smirnoff, wearing a black tux. She has hers on too. They’re dressing as twins though they’re actually cousins. Sonny Berkowitz finally gave Camille a solo show and the opening is tonight. Camille’s the unofficial photographer for Halo, the bar where she and her rotating cast of girlfriends do coke and dance and drink and fuck until 4am when the owner, Mona, kicks them out. Sonny loved Camille’s portraits and hoped to shock his Ohio patrons with photos of Halo’s collection of weirdos: topless dancers who use the pool table as a makeshift stage, butch dykes with dog collars, cross-dressers with feather boas. The lighting is dim so the photos move, you can hear the music, likely Bronski Beat, as you watch the whirling dervishes enjoying the last few years of decadence. But there is melancholy too in the faces, people who seem to know what is coming before it does.
Camille tells Anthony about Debby, “a very nice girl,” which is what she calls all her hook ups, but this one is different, there’s a catch in her throat they both hear. “Listen, I think I really like her,” Camille says as she takes a long pull on the bottle then a drag off her Kool. Camille’s swagger works with the femmes eager to be wooed. Anthony is so good looking that anyone will fuck him, even his mother, it is rumored. “I can’t wait to meet her.” Anthony grins as Camille gives him a stony look.
Anthony rode his motorcycle so will meet Camille at the opening. Camille feels good, excited; those years of inhaling chemicals in the darkroom she built over her mother’s garage are coming to something. She is an artist, she’s always known this, but now Sonny Berkowitz’s support is making her legit.
When Camille arrives at the gallery, she sees some of Halo’s regulars gathered outside. They cheer when she walks in. People want to get photos with the artist and their likeness on the walls painted a crisp white, the perfect backdrop to the lush reds and blues, the light that reflects the glitter of Halo’s disco ball and the sequins of its dancers’ costumes. Halo’s straight bouncer even shows up, a thick guy with a beard; there’s a photo of him on a Harley with one of his many girlfriends on the back, the look of the lady in the photo, not the one he’s brought tonight, says: “He’s mine,” even as no one is anyone’s really. Except Camille and Debby are tight; they return to each other every time Camille is pulled away. Like magnets, Camille thinks.
The gallery fills with smoke and the laughter of misfits who can’t contain their joy at seeing themselves on the walls of a respectable establishment. Anthony finally shows up. The tip of his flip flop catches on the lip of the elevated entrance step; all eyes are on him as he stumbles, catches himself, stands straight, his head with its tousled almost black hair rises above the others in this crowd of mostly women. He has loosened his bow tie, undone a few buttons on his white shirt. “I got waylaid,” Anthony says, a slur in his voice. Debby stands off to the side. She has the smooth alabaster skin of a hand-crafted mannequin. She looks almost like a teenager, with her hair in two pigtails and thick shaggy bangs that cover the top of her almond shaped eyes. “Introduce us,” Anthony says. Camille calls Debby over.
At midnight, Sonny Berkowitz closes the front door; the event is officially over but everyone can stay and party, if they like. “Let’s go to Halo,” someone yells, an obvious next step. “Yes, yes!” Camille says. She has her Nikon with her, she always does, so she will take photos of people celebrating her exhibition. Camille searches for Debby so they can go together, spend the night getting frisky on Halo’s dance floor.
“I can’t find my girl!” she tells her best friend Stephanie.
“Oh, she left about a half an hour ago.”
“She didn’t tell me she was leaving.”
“She walked out with Anthony.”
Camille grabs a cigarette from her pocket, lights it, takes a deep inhale. “That bastard!” she says to Stephanie, who has also fucked Anthony. After a few moments of silence, Camille and Stephanie start to laugh so hard that they head to Halo with tears streaking down their faces.
