Archer hustled to the fridge and dug around in the back until he found what he was looking for. He held it up for Lynn with two hands, like Rafiki presenting Simba on Pride Rock.

Lynn cackled while Sasha looked perplexed. “A bottle of gross, cheap champagne?” She squinted at the label. “Jesus, how much did you pay for that? Five bucks?”

“Two ninety-nine,” Archer said proudly. “From the first liquor store I saw when I set foot in Manhattan.”

Lynn jumped up and took the bottle from him, cradling it lovingly. “He’s been saving it to celebrate his first job. Go grab some glasses … Ew, Archer, why is it sticky?”

It was the worst champagne he’d ever had, and the best.

2 Shady Queens

It was depressing how Archer’s entire New York life fit into a suitcase and a duffel bag. Just his dance gear, clothes, and toiletries, really, plus a few books he’d been meaning to get to, including his old, battered copy of The Hobbit that he reread every summer. He left his little collection of succulents on the only windowsill in the apartment, which got a pathetic trickle of sunlight around noon. He hadn’t managed to kill them yet and pleaded with Lynn to keep them alive.

“I promise,” Lynn said solemnly. “I’ll take care of little Danny Zuko and Belle and … What was the other one’s name again?”

“Spot Conlon.”

“Yes, of course, also Spot Conlon.”

That morning, he was up early and caught a bus from the Port Authority with time to spare and only a slight cheap-champagne headache. The two men he remembered from the callback were waiting, too. Both were solidly built, with thick shoulders and dark brown hair. One sat on the other’s lap in the crowded terminal and ran his fingers up and down the other’s neck while they scrolled through their phones. The lap-sitter leaned in for a kiss, then they smiled at each other before going back to their phones.

Archer’s heart clenched. It had been a long time since anyone had looked at him like that. When his bus pulled in, he joined the line behind them.

“Oh, hey,” the slightly taller of the two said when he saw Archer. “You were at the callback, right?”

“Yup. Archer.”

“Ben. This is my boyfriend, Beau.” He had a trace of a French accent.

“That’s great that you both got in,” Archer said, shaking their hands.

“There were some tense moments.” Beau laughed. “But we’re kind of a package deal. And I told him if he got in and I didn’t, I’d break up with him.” Beau had the same accent, and Archer tried to commit to memory that Ben was the taller one.

Ben rolled his eyes. “He’s joking.”

“Kind of.” Beau pecked Ben on the nose.