Things I make when no one is paying me.

“You look beautiful.”

Aya’s smile softened as she looked up and held Andre’s glance for a moment. I should have coordinated outfits with him, she thought, taking in the contrast of her soft black velvet romper against his tan linen suit. She was still getting accustomed to her new relationship status.

He looks good, she admitted to herself—even as another thought crept in. Something about his earnestness, his smile, the way he always seemed so sure about her. And especially the tan suit. Why did it remind her of LaKeith in Get Out? She tucked that thought away quickly and beamed back at him.

“Thanks, babe. You clean up pretty well yourself.”

A few feet away, Avril embraced Sa’ad, a teasing grin playing at her lips. “Look at you, Sa’ad! You’re practically famous now. Try not to forget about us little people.”

Sa’ad laughed. A belly laugh. “Never. You’re my ride-or-dies. Couldn’t have made it here without you.”

The group laughed and cheered as each of them took turns congratulating and embracing Sa’ad.

Aya felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Aya, babe, love the dress.” Duy plucked a stray piece of lint from her shoulder and flicked it toward Andre. “Andre.” He nodded in acknowledgment.

“Hey, wassup.” Andre barely looked up from his phone.

Duy looked past her, eyes bright. “There he is—the man of the hour.” And just like that, he was gone, weaving through the crowd toward Sa’ad like he had a reservation.

Bria stood slightly apart from the group. Her gold sequined dress caught and scattered every camera flash. She tapped a strappy heel against the carpet, face buried in her phone. A slow smile spread across her lips. She looked up just as Luis sauntered over to join them.

“What’s Luis doing here?” Aya asked, turning to Bria.

“I told him about the premiere. He’s a pretty cool guy, Aya. You should get to know him.”

Aya rolled her eyes. “After what Isabel told us? I think I’ll keep my distance.”

Bria smirked. “You mean Isabel told you. We all have our allies, I guess.”

Aya scrunched her face but kept quiet as Luis reached the group, offering each of them a warm smile, a handshake, and an embrace.

Nor’s voice cut through the air. “Everybody say Black Excellence!” She raised her phone.

The group grinned for the camera. Aya felt a wave of resistance as she forced a smile.

Then Avril turned, gesturing beside her. “Oh, before I forget. Everyone, this is my girlfriend, Staci.”

The group turned in unison. Staci, a white woman with long, unruly blonde dreads, waved enthusiastically, silver rings adorning every finger, an unmistakable earthy energy radiating from her.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then, as if on cue, every Black person in the group exchanged The Glance™—that universal, wordless moment passed between Aya, Nor, Bria, and Sa’ad before they all smiled politely.

“Nice to meet you, Staci,” Aya said, her voice smooth. Practiced.

“Yeah, welcome,” Nor added, exchanging a quick look with Bria, who simply nodded.

Avril beamed, oblivious, pulling Staci in closer. “We’re so excited for the film! Let’s get inside.”

As they walked toward the theater, Aya leaned into Nor. “We’ll debrief later.”

Nor stifled a laugh. “Oh, absolutely.”

Aya’s gaze drifted toward Luis again. The Interloper. His crisp velveteen tux was tailored and contemporary, his movements easy and confident. He finished dapping up Sa’ad, and with a fluid motion, wrapped his arm around Bria’s waist, guiding her toward the entrance. Aya’s eyes narrowed as Luis bent down to whisper something in Bria’s ear, a wave of discomfort settling in her gut.