Gaga for a Gala

As Vanessa pulled us up to the valet, Regina and I both exited out the car. If it weren’t for the orchestral music, you’d have heard both of our jaws hit the sidewalk. There were ladies and gentlemen all throughout, dressed up in clothes far more expensive than any paycheck that I’d ever get in my lifetime, hair bouncy and beautiful, and all mingling about.

“Easy you two,” Vanessa said as she gently patted the bottom of our chins. “You’ll catch flies.”

Bathed in the lights of the building, Vanessa looked positively stunning in her tight purple dress, lined with beads and fake flowers. It showed off plenty of her cleavage, contouring along her body and her curves. It went down just barely half-way on her thighs.

“Come on, now. The party is inside,” Vanessa said, taking us both by the hand. I snapped out of my love stricken daze and followed her closely inside.

Inside the building was even more amazing than outside. In a sense, this looked like a club, but no one was grinding on anyone’s hips. Everyone was talking with each other, and there was a huge runway in the center, presumably to show off the new fashion line.

“Ugh, I feel so out of my element here,” I said, tugging gently on my dress.

“Oh, you’re fine,” Vanessa said as she continued to guide me. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to some of my modelling friends. They told me they’d be over by the bar.”

“I can see some ladies that I’d like to be introduced to,” Regina said as she looked around, her subtly as stealthy as a jet engine.

“Oh, hey! There’s the lady of the hour.”

I turned my attention to see who had called out. Sitting at the bar were three people, dressed very nicely, as expected. The first one who caught my eye was a beautiful woman, with long blonde hair, wrapped up in curls. She had an enormous rack, definitely somewhere between D and DD, along with a skinny waist and slim thighs. She was wearing a strapless white dress with a black ribbon tied around her waist.

Sitting next to her was a dark-skinned man in a light blue button-up collared shirt with a dark blue sweater overtop. He had short brown hair that was neatly combed to the side. He was holding a drink in his one hand and his other around the woman. His pants were neat without a wrinkle to be seen at all, and his shoes looked more expensive than my latest camera.

Finally, there was another gentleman, dressed in a very nice black tuxedo with a blue striped tie. His black hair was slicked back and he had some light stubble on his face. His pants, similar to the other gentleman, were neatly ironed and taken care of.

“Always showing up fashionably late, huh?” asked the gentleman in the sweater, gesturing his drink to Vanessa.

“Oh, hush you,” Vanessa said, playfully swatting at him. “I was only delayed by, like, five minutes.”

“Took the 86? Should have taken the back routes,” the lady said as she picked up her drink from the bar. “So, who's your friend?”

“These are my girlfriends, Maria and…” Vanessa turned to gesture towards Regina, but Regina was already walking away, her arms wrapped around three different ladies.

“Don’t wait up for me,” Regina said, giving us both a friendly wave. “Feel free to find and join me later.” With that, she disappeared into the crowd.

“Um, well, I guess I’ll introduce you to her later then,” Vanessa said as she turned back to her friends. “Well, anyway guys, this is Maria, my girlfriend.”

“Ah, you finally managed to confess to her,” the woman said as she got up from her seat. “I’m happy for you two.” She reached out and shook my hand. “The name’s Annabelle Gray. Call me Anne.”

“Oh, uh, it’s nice to meet you, Anne,” I said as I shook her hand. Her skin was so soft to the touch.

“And that is her boyfriend, Leon,” Vanessa said, gesturing to the man in the sweater. Anne went and took her seat back next to him. “He’s a photographer.”

“Charmed to meet you, Maria,” Leon said, hoisting his glass to me before taking a sip.

“And last, but not least, Hal Burton,” the man in the tuxedo came over and shook my hand.

“He’s a fashion designer,” Vanessa said as she took a seat at the bar and pulled a seat for me. She called over the bartender and ordered us both something called a Rose Berry Bliss.

“Oh wow, that’s awesome,” I said, feeling very inadequate. “So, how did you all end up meeting Vanessa?”

“Well, I was hired to take her photos for the 2018 Fall line,” Leon said. “And we got to talking and we’ve been pals since.”

“I helped design part of the Winter 2016 line that she modeled for,” Hal said. “One of the best models that I’ve had the courtesy of working with. Wouldn’t trade her for the world.”

“Don’t flirt too hard,” the bartender said as he was preparing our drinks. “I’d had for that tux of yours to get stained. It cost us too much, but the dry cleaning comes out of your account.”

“Oh, don’t you worry,” Vanessa said with a chuckle. “I’ll be sure to keep him in line.”

“Huh?” I asked, a little confused before the neurons clicked together. “Are you two-?”

“Married?” Hal said, finishing my sentence by holding up a ring. “Yes, we are. Been for three years now.”

“Wow, that’s incredible,” I said. The bartender set my drink down in front of me and I started to take a few sips. I looked down at the Reality Ring, then to Vanessa’s cheerful face. Marriage, huh? Would I ever want to marry her? How would marriage work with a polycule? Would we become exclusive to each other? I mean, granted, I make the rules, but I don’t-

“I met Vanessa at a strip club.”

I nearly spat out my drink at Anne’s remark. Thankfully, I caught myself and Vanessa helped by patting me on the back a little. “Sorry, uh, Anne. I don’t think I heard you correctly. How did you meet Vanessa?”

“Strip club,” she said as if that was a totally casual thing. “I gave her one hell of a lap dance.”

I turned my head over to Vanessa, who was just smiling. “Yeah, that’s how I had met her. Wasn’t quite how I pictured spending my 19th birthday, but it was unforgettable.” Was the lap dance that good? “Hey Anne, how’s the leg?”

“Oh, still the same,” Anne said as she kicked her leg out. “Still staying the hell away from stilettos.” She was very clearly wearing flats.

“For context,” Hal said, leaning in towards me, “Anne tried to give Vanessa here a lap dance. Ended up snapping her stiletto’s heel and had to be taken to the hospital. They love telling that story.”

“Yes, emphasis on the fact that WE love telling the story,” Vanessa said as she playfully hit Hal on the shoulder. They all chuckled and I nervously chuckled with them.

“By the way, who is the person who designed the line?” I asked.

“Ugh, you don’t know? What kind of person comes to a fashion show and doesn’t even know what it’s about?”

“Ugh,” Vanessa said as she turned around, looking in the direction of the voice.