"Me neither," Lena agreed. She stood up and offered her hand. "Come on. Let's lock up and never look back."
Tonight, the club was closing forever.
Lena turned her head. In the weak light, her eyes held a quiet fire. "That's the first stupid thing you've ever said." She reached out, her calloused fingers—from years of counting coins and breaking up fights—brushing a strand of hair from Gabbie’s cheek. "We could be something new. Something we chose, not something the club made us." gabbie carter, lena paul
It wasn't a stage kiss, flashy and performative. It was soft, unsure, and tasted faintly of salt from tears neither of them had shed yet. Gabbie melted into it, her hand finding the lapel of Lena’s blazer, holding on like the floor was giving way. "Me neither," Lena agreed
Gabbie sat on the edge of the stage, barefoot, her rhinestone heels tucked under a rickety chair. She was still in her costume—a silver fringe dress that shimmered sadly in the dirty light. The last customer had shuffled out an hour ago, leaving behind the ghost of spilled whiskey and cheap perfume. Let's lock up and never look back
"Like a beginning," Lena whispered. And then she kissed her.
Here’s a short story featuring Gabbie Carter and Lena Paul. The Last Night at The Aster