Lavender Haze

Welcome back to the Taylor Swift Song Wheel Generator: The Writing Challenge!

When it comes to Taylor and her songs, they always fill my imagination up the way I believe great artists oftentimes refer to as "the muse". For my writing challenge, I took a song from an album, added a genre, and let the characters and the genre lead the way.

Every writer has heard the phrase "write what you know" at least a dozen times in their journey to learn about the craft of writing, whether it be from an in-person class in college to a book about writing to a pre-recorded "live" seminar (which are the worst, but I digress). In my own life, I just moved to Las Vegas, Nevada, and as soon as I started to write this story based on the visuals I imagined from Lavender Haze, I knew immediately that Las Vegas was the perfect setting. Say what you will about the Las Vegas Strip- seeing it at night, from a distance, shining so bright and inviting... it's one of my favorite things about the move. I'm glad I was able to make it a setting so soon into this writing challenge.

Please enjoy the third Wheel Generated Story! And if you decide to write along with me, please tag me in any Social Media posts, or send me an email so I can read it. :)

Midnights - Lavender Haze - New Adult

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This wasn’t supposed to be more than a one-night stand.

Vince lay in a bed that wasn’t his, next to a man he never thought he’d see again. Their fingers intertwined. Legs brushing under the sheet. James was like a heater, so hot despite the air conditioner cooling down the apartment during another hot-as-hell Las Vegas night. Vince shivered, and in his sleep, James pulled Vince closer to him, sighing contentedly into Vince’s collar bone. Those long eyelashes tickled the skin on Vince’s shoulder, right above the tattoo of the Sagittarius star constellation he’d gotten a few years back.

This was the third night in a row Vince had spent at James’ apartment. They’d met three weeks before, and every day Vince found himself thinking about James, wondering what he was doing, who he was talking to, and if James wondered about Vince. Of course, it was clear that James did wonder about Vince. A lot. He’d been the one to initiate the first date the day after their initial hookup.

I can’t stop thinking about you, James had texted. Can I buy you dinner tonight?

Vince, who hadn’t even remembered giving James his number, had immediately texted back, Yes.

The night they met, Vince had once again been dragged out to a gay bar by his friends. It was a weird time in Vince’s life, and he was constantly needing his friends to get him out of the apartment. If they didn’t force him out, he would stay in, sitting on the couch, staring at the blank black screen of the television, too mentally exhausted and unwell to even bother turning it on. He often forgot to eat, coming home after work and having no desire whatsoever to move again. If he wasn’t staring at the blank screen he was staring at the blank ceiling above his bed.

But Vince wasn’t alone. His friends knew that he was in a stage in his life where he needed them more than ever, but also couldn’t express that in the same way most "sad" people could. They forced themselves on him at least twice a week as a group, and individually they checked in on him throughout the week. Vince didn’t know why they bothered. Sure, he’d known and been a part of this friend group for five years, since they’d met freshman year at University of Nevada, Las Vegas, but still. What a ton of work. And was Vince worth it? He didn’t think so.

Marcus, Sam, Matty, and Jason thought so, and that was all that mattered.

On the night Vince met James, the guys had come over in their usual fashion: knocking on the door until Vince was forced to answer it, then barging in and picking an outfit from Vince’s closet, all the while chatting about unimportant work and celebrity gossip, Marcus showing off his newest playlist (he was always making new pre-party playlists for this very occasion). Whatever they could do to get Vince out of his own head and ready for a fun night ahead, and they’d perfected the routine.

As a group they walked in, the room dark, rainbow flashing lights the only thing to see by. The dance floor was a mirror, reflecting everything and everyone. There was nowhere to hide in the darkness of the club, and Vince felt both his shoulders tense up and his lungs release the pressure of his own mind. The guys took their place at the bar, ordered drinks, and pulled each other onto the dance floor.

Shortly after their arrival, Vince had been swaying his hips, drink clutched against his chest, eyes closed, singing at the top of his lungs to Lady Gaga. He was used to being bumped into on the dance floor - there were too many people and never enough room – but the bump that made him open his eyes was different.

An unfamiliar material had bumped against him, soft yet plastic-like, his drink spilling onto his chest, not unwelcomingly cool against the heat of the club. With a sigh, Vince turned towards the bumper, not wanting a confrontation, but it was like muscle memory made him turn to see who had bumped him.

A man stood in a giant blow-up unicorn costume, shaking his inflated tail, hands on his knees, and the people around him were chanting, “Go Uni! Go Uni!” Vince smiled, and then he laughed. There was no way he could be upset about a unicorn spilling his drink.

The unicorn turned in Vince’s direction and stopped dancing, seeing the spill on Vince’s white shirt. Like a character at Disneyland, he gestured first to himself, then to Vince’s shirt, mimicking the spilling of the drink. Vince raised his glass in a salute, but the smile on his face said, Don’t worry about it.

Disregarding said smile, the unicorn took Vince’s hand and shimmied its way across the dance floor to the restrooms. “I’m so sorry,” the unicorn shouted, and with a quick unzip an incredibly handsome man emerged from within. With ebony skin and bright, glimmering blue eyes, the man was so incredibly attractive Vince forgot how to speak.

“I can’t fix your shirt,” the man said, eyeing Vince’s chest, “but I can buy you another drink to make up for it.”

Remembering how to speak, Vince agreed. “S-sure.”

“I’m James, by the way.” He stuck out his hand, which was still covered by an inflated hoof. Unable to stop the giggle from escaping, Vince shook the hoof.

“Vince.”

“Okay, Vince the Prince,” James said, easily leading the way through the crowd to the bar. “What are you drinking?”

The rest of the night in the club didn’t last long. Two drinks and lots of flirting later, James was out of the inflatable unicorn costume, unlocking the door to his apartment. As soon as the door was unlocked James burst into the living room, throwing his things on the ground and spinning back to Vince, slamming his lips to Vince’s and making Vince’s whole world shatter into a million pieces in the most incredible way known to mankind.

It was the best night with a man Vince had ever had, and definitely the best night he’d ever had in his melancholy state. He’d been sad for so long, unable to find anyone he wanted to spend time with romantically, and now here was James, so incredibly handsome and witty and muscular. A man who wanted Vince more than anyone else in the room. And Vince was James’ for the taking.

They had sex three times that night, enjoying each other’s company and ordering a pizza in between. Vince didn’t remember the last time he’d had this much sex, let alone found himself actually enjoying it. But James was different. He was buoyant, able to enjoy so much about the world, from the large to the small. Vince knew this wouldn’t be more than a one-night stand, but still- if James could find happiness despite very horrible, shitty things happening in the world around them, maybe Vince could too.

And then James had texted him later that day, and the next day, and every day thereafter. Vince wasn’t used to turning down his friends for a real reason, a real person he truly wanted to see, but after the second date his friends believed that Vince wasn’t trying some new tactic to get them to leave him alone so he could wallow in self-pity. They forced themselves on him after the first week and demanded to know every detail.

“What does he do for work?” Marcus asked.

“How is he in bed?” wondered Sam.

Matty, making the first round of drinks, wanted to know if they’d ever get to meet the fine James, or if he was truly a unicorn, only to be seen by the chosen few?

“You’re so strange,” Jason told Matty.

Matty merely shrugged. “The question still stands.”

All four guys looked to Vince, who wasn’t used to being the center of their attention for any reason other than getting him out of his apartment. Being forced to dress up and go out was one thing, but his love life (if you could even call it that) was another.

“He’s a comedian,” Vince answered. “He’s incredible in bed. The best I ever had.” He blushed at this and steamrolled over himself so they wouldn’t be able to ask more questions. “And I don’t know when you guys will meet him because I don’t know where this is going.”

“Clearly he likes you,” Sam said.

Marcus nodded. “It’s going to keep going. Obviously.”

Jason snorted. “That makes no sense, Marcus.” Turning back to Vince he continued, “Ignore us. Just have fun, Vince. If we get to meet him soon, great. But it’s your life. We just want you to be happy.”

And happy Vince was. Lying next to James as many nights of the week as he could. Holding his hand. Kissing his lips. Vince wanted to introduce his friends to James. Hell, he’d even reactivated his Instagram and Facebook just to friend James and support his comedy career. He wanted to post one of the hundreds of pictures they’d already taken, from the simple moments of lying in bed together to reaching literal new heights at the top of the Strat, so incredibly elated and infatuated with each other.

But if he did that… It would all be real. The world would get a taste, a bite. Certain people would demand more. Vince figured if he’d ask James to be his boyfriend, James would say yes, but he also figured James should have already asked that question of Vince. James was the more forward one, the one most sure of himself. So, if James hadn’t asked it yet, he clearly didn’t want the label.

Vince shook his head, and James stirred next to him.

“Hey,” James whispered, his voice thick with sleep.

Vince smiled. “Hey there, sleepy.”

“You’re so far away,” James whined, scooting closer until there was no space between their bodies. “That’s better.”

“I have a question for you,” Vince found himself asking.

“Hmm?”

“Will you be my boyfriend?”

The lush lips curled, and those striking blue eyes appeared, staring into Vince’s soul. “Yes. But only if you’ll be my boyfriend.”

“It would be my honor.”

James grinned, they shared a kiss, and he fell almost immediately back to sleep. Vince turned his gaze to the ceiling, watching the dark brown blades of the fan spin round and round, and for once, he smiled looking at the ceiling. It didn’t bring him empty dread anymore.

Vince pulled James even closer to him, inhaled the lavender scent of him, and let his eyes flutter closed.

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