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her mother has asked for her personal guest list to extend from 20 to 60 (legitimate outrage at this).

I’m already on slightly thin ice with her. She was pissed I missed her call the night before her venue viewing (it turned out to be a question about if I was super sure that lilac wasn’t an ‘overdone’ bridesmaid dress colour) and only just about let go of me missing the viewing because I told her I’d been working late, ended up getting home at 2a.m. and slept through my 7a.m. alarm. It was fractionally true, if ‘working late’ included swimming in a stranger’s pool with my ex-boyfriend.

Malakai and I have fallen into a frigid but polite rhythm since that night at the party, suppressing our conversations, ensuring we’re in safe zones: ‘Great idea!’ ‘Love that!’ I think at one particular point, in front of Taré and in an effort to maintain appearances, we gave each other a high five, like we were children’s-morning-show presenters, which wouldn’t have been awkward if it wasn’t so obvious we were trying to avoid prolonged physical contact with each other. Still, not so awkward that he would screen my texts.

Aminah rubs her temple. ‘Man, this is eating into our time. Do you guys have some sort of work thing you’ve forgotten about or something? You know, like how you forgot about the venue viewing we had three weeks ago?’

The ice beneath my feet cracks a little. The room hushes at the pointed remark. Astonishingly, Aminah has been relatively relaxed about Malakai and I working together. When I told her as we were bridesmaids’ dress shopping, rifling through samples, she’d nodded.

‘Very retro. Uni era. Makes sense, though. You guys have some sort of creative synergy. That being said, historically, it’s been a recipe for the kind of romantic angst only seen in an early 2000s CW show.’

I snorted. ‘Yeah. It did give smallOne Tulse Hill.’

Aminah smirked. ‘Dalston’s Creek.’

I’d smiled, despite myself. ‘Damn it. Well done.’ Aminah had patted herself on the back. ‘Thanks, but seriously, Keeks, just be careful. You were tore upwhen he left for America. I don’t want that to happen again. You wore soft boots outside the house, if you left the house at all. I can’t deal with that during wedding season.’ She shuddered. ‘Dark times.’ And again I promised that it was all good; Malakai and I are professional.Civil.And even if I was prone to acquiring feelings again (which I’m not) Malakai has made it clear that he isn’t (which is fantastic).

Now, I swallow my slight irritation at Aminah’s shade. ‘We have a recce for Taré’s video shoot this afternoon, but nothing for now. Also, like I said, I didn’tforgetabout the viewing. I just overslept—’

‘Wait, oh my God—’ Shanti has been absently scrolling on her phone, bored as we’ve been speaking, when she gasps and holds her phone up to me. ‘Why are you and Malakai in the background of this photo of Daniel Kaluuya and Michael B. Jordan looking like the poster kids for Hashtag Black Love?’

‘Um, I have no idea?’ I frown as she comes over, zooming in on a picture on a Black celebrity Instagram page. Sure enough, it’s from the night of the mansion party, with the two stars in the forefront. In the background, Malakai and I are standing close, looking into each other’s eyes, which are squinted with glittering mirth, my hand on his wrist as we laugh. It looks like it was taken just after our conversation with Soraya. Shit. It disconcerts me for several reasons, including but not limited to the fact that it looks like it could have been taken when we were still together. It’s mocking me: it’s a lie. That isn’t who we are any more, despite what this extremely beautiful photo is saying. Seriously, I look incredible. Shanti’s skincare routine is working. Aside from that, though, the picture depresses me.

Aminah rushes over with Laide and Chioma and peers at the phone screen. I feel her ire build as soon as her gaze hits the screen. ‘Why does it say the photo was taken theday beforethe venue viewing? I thought you said you overslept because you were working late? How does working late involve partying with the world’s hottest men–Malakai exempt, of course. Were you justhungover?’

I baulk at her accusatory tone, and take her hand, pulling her to the corner of the room, because what we’re not about to do is have a blowout in front of everyone. I lower my voice. ‘Iwasworking late. Taré–’ I whisper her name, since our friends know that Malakai and I are working on a project, but not who the project is for– ‘wanted us to go to the party with her and so we did. I mean she ended up not coming in the end, but it wassupposedto be kind of a work social situation. And, yeah, I did oversleep because I’ve been exhausted with balancing working at the restaurant with working onPhoenix.’

‘But why do you and Malakai look so cosy?’ She narrows her eyes in suspicion. ‘Are you OK? You would tell me if you weren’t, right?’

Theoretically, I would, but now, when my best friend seems to be perpetually on the precipice of a breakdown induced by whether she should serve bellinis or mimosas as a reception welcoming drink, perhaps not.

I force a shrug. ‘What, did you want us to be fighting? Malakai and I are colleagues who get on. We’re adults. Now, will you chill out?’

Suspicion still colours Aminah’s face, but she nods in reluctant acceptance. ‘Fine. Fine. And I guess if something actually were going on, you would know where he is right now. We’ll just have to start without—’

The door to the studio swings open, and Malakai strides in, black hoodie, tracksuit and trainers on, his face uncharacteristically stormy. He looks like he hasn’t slept, bags heavy under his eyes.

‘Oh! Nice of you to finally make an appearance, diva!’ Aminah’s words are bulbous with sarcasm.

Malakai seems to barely register her voice as he makes a beeline for me. ‘Kiki, we have to go. Yo, you all right, guys?’ He barely waves to our friends as he walks towards me. ‘I fucked up. I thought the recce was at three, but it’s now. We’re running late. T’s already on her way. We have to go.’

I blink at him in confusion at his rudeness, at what he’s saying. ‘What are you talking about? I thought the location manager booked it—’

Malakai runs a hand across the back of his head in agitation. ‘I sorted it because I know the guy who owns the club.’ Malakai greets Kofi with a hand clap, and reaches out to squeeze Aminah’s arm. ‘Meenz, I’m sorry, but this is important. We have to lock in a location this week, and T—our artist has hated everything else—’

Barely contained irritation flitters over Aminah’s pretty features. ‘But how will you know the steps? How is this going to work without the best man and the maid of honour? You guys are supposed tolead—’

Kofi winds his arm round Aminah’s waist, dropping a kiss on her forehead. ‘Baby. It will be fine. This is just forfun,remember? Just to get us in the mood.’

‘Um, sorry,’ Laide interrupts, hands on her hips. ‘If Kiki and Malakai don’t have to do this, why do we? There’s a really cute mezcal bar, like,rightnext door I’ve been meaning to check out. They do taco and margarita brunches. I know the manager– I’m sure we can walk in with no rezy—’

Shanti gasps with pleasure, completely forgetting the chaos she unleashed ten minutes ago. ‘Oh yes, please! Can we bond over shots? It’s my favourite way to bond.’

‘You know what? Since I’mactuallyaccredited in movement therapy through that online course, I actually know dances that could bond us as a group–thenwe can get mezcal margs,’ Chioma offers.