“No snakes,” Nevaeh whispers to Taylor, who waves her concern away, not taking his eyes off the stage.

I’m sitting right on the edge of my seat, and I can’t help whooping and clapping with unbridled enthusiasm every time a piece of clothing falls to the floor, at every flourish and cartwheel and all the fairy queen’s trapeze tricks, the stage bursting with flowers and glitter as she swings and blows kisses at her captivated audience, brushes flowers across the cheeks of the fans in front. All full of joy. Giving two enormous middle fingers up to the idea that we should hide our skin and our bodies are too distracting, and rejoicing in the idea that every body is beautiful, and all I want is to be a part of it.

Carmen Go is the headliner, a phoenix, bold and bright in vivid oranges and yellows and reds that look like they’re burning against her inky skin, and her hair is a thundercloud around her head and as bright as her plumage. She pulls us into her orbit as she wiggles down to a glittering almost-nothing, the pieces of her costume discarded around her. Broad shoulders, lush curves, rolling hips, and wide thighs, glittering skin and a body that’s taking up the whole stage and the whole theater. When she bursts into flames, a bonfire in the dark theater, we jump to our feet, our applause booming and the audience roaring her name.

Taylor leans toward me, still clapping and his grin huge, but before he opens his mouth I shout, “No, you are not going to set yourself on fire.” He pretends to pout, and I can’t stop laughing.

When the lights finally come up, we are dazzled, slightly dazed, a little breathless, like we’ve just stumbled off a roller coaster.

We’re invited to mingle with the performers in the lobby. My tiny oh my god is involuntary when Carmen Go sashays over to us, that soft burst of ruby-red hair glowing in the dim golden light of the lobby. She’s wrapped in an enormous gold feather boa, smothered from neck to knees. When she smiles so kindly at me, I tremble all over, feeling unexpectedly shy. I grip Katherine’s hand. Taylor starts flirting with her immediately, unsurprisingly, and Nevaeh is making her laugh, a sound like bubbles in champagne.

Then she turns to me and I freeze.

I blurt, “I love you.” Oh my god, my face is so hot it’s going to melt off my skull.

She throws back her head and laughs again. “You’re darling.” She touches my shoulder, just a brush of satin-gloved fingers, but it tingles. “Did you like the show?” It’s a purr.

“I want to know how to do that!” I say in an unexpected rush. I want to ask her, How do you make it seem so easy?