Page 214 of King of Pain

Ant laughs. “Yeah, she’s pretty great.”

“In fact,” Cindy adds with a twinkle in her eye, “she just arrived with a certain very handsome pitcher on her arm.”

I slide my hand to the small of Ant’s back. “We better get in there, then.”

Cindy nods and holds the door open for us.

The moment we step inside, I feel Ant’s body shift beside me. His eyes are darting everywhere, wide and electric.

The space has been completely transformed. Neon arrows snake through the lobby like breadcrumbs. Blacklight installations pulse against the walls. ‘80s music thumps from the DJ booth—he’s decked out in full club kid gear, white face paint, mirrored sunglasses, and glowing neon bracelets.

And my work…is everywhere.

Every painting Liz and I selected is woven into the space, displayed with care and intention. Lit up beneath blacklights and neon signs, they’re framed by bursts of color and nostalgia.

Ant’s eyes catch on the Keith Haring-inspired selfie station backdrop in the far corner, and he leans in and says, “We are takingsomany photos in front of that.”

I snicker. “I figured you’d say that.”

We keep walking, hand in hand. But then Ant stops.

I turn back and follow his gaze—and there it is. The exhibit signage, printed on a tall and wide elegant canvas banner thathangs completely on its own, isolated from the chaos of color behind it.

Just one word in stark black letters:

HIM

Beneath it, in smaller print:

A Celebration of Beauty

Ant stills.

I slide a hand over his arm. “Are you okay?”

He swallows. “Yeah, I—” He turns toward me. His eyes are wet but shining. “I just wasn’t expecting that.”

I press a soft kiss to his lips and murmur, “And I wasn’t expecting you.”

Ant closes his eyes for a beat. When they open, I see something settle behind them. A calm. A quiet awe.

“Come on,” I say, tugging his hand. “There’s so much in store for you tonight.”

He blinks at me. “F-for me? This is your night.”

I spin as I walk backward, facing him with a grin. “Is it, though?”

He narrows his eyes, suspicious. But he still takes my hand.

We reach the official starting point of the exhibit, and a cheesy grin spreads across my face.

A foam 3D print of an old-school arcade cabinet, complete with faux buttons and a joystick glued to the top sits like a beacon on a hill. It’s ridiculous and amazing. Across the screen in pixelated font are the words:

START

Player 1

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