Weapons: Bagmen.
Tableau: A child wrapped in a red pennant is surrounded by sunflowers. Above, the sun blazes down with a menacing face.
Icon: Yellow sun.
Unique Arcana Characteristics: Golden beams radiate from his eyes, and his bronzed skin glows.
Before Flash: Purdue history grad student and part-time rave promoter from Spain.
West Lafayette, Indiana
Day 0
“Is it just me, or is our sex life improving by the minute?” I asked my two partners as I worked to catch my breath.
Beatrice curled up against my side, her panting exhalations cooling my damp skin. “Not just you.”
Joe was sprawled like a starfish, his legs draped over ours. He grunted, “Not just you.”
Bea traced a heart over my chest, giving me goose bumps. “If this continues, where will we end up?”
“Let’s find out, querida.” And we would—because I would never let either of them go. Bea and I had been great together—I’d fallen for her at first sight—but Joe had been the third piece of our puzzle.
Today was the two-year anniversary of our trio, and I expected a hundred more.
She laughed and sat up, stretching her arms over her head—to my delight. I’d been with her since before Joe, three years or so, but even her simplest movements could still stir me.
“I see that look in your eyes.” She raised her brows. “But we have work.”
Joe rose up on his elbows. “The Spaniard wants another round? Jesus, he’ll kill us before it’s all over.”
“That so, cariño?” I lunged for him, wrestling him till he was begging for mercy.
Bea slipped out of bed and headed for the bathroom, saying over her shoulder, “We’re going to be late. It’s like I keep saying: something will—”
“—always go sideways,” Joe and I finished in unison.
Grumbling, I released him. Everyone thought we had so much fun as party promoters, but hosting raves was a lot of work. Especially since we moved them around from one abandoned building to the next.
Each time, we had to do a fresh setup—power, lights, sound, decorations, etc.—and we had to do it on the day of, else our equipment would get stolen.
We worked like beasts for hours before the rave even started, then pulled an all-nighter alongside the attendees. But we’d almost made enough money to travel over winter break.
When Joe rose from the bed, I watched him stretch with just as much heat as I had Bea. Who would’ve known?
He caught me leering at him in the mirror and the cocky cabrón smirked, so I threw a pillow at him.
He chucked it back. “I don’t care what we do after work, but tequila needs to be involved.”
Bea peeked out of the doorway. “Seconded.”
I nodded. “Motion carried.” We wouldn’t be together without the help of Cuervo.
Two years ago, Joe had fallen for Bea as hard as I had, trying to steal her from me, which had brought about the worst—and the best—day of my life.
Worst? Bea’s heart had been so torn between her boyfriend and her determined new suitor that she’d threatened to cut us both out of her life. I’d decided to fight him. Then I’d realized Joe—a linebacker in his undergraduate years—was a really big fucker who could probably kick even my ass.
Best? After some tequila, I’d muttered that she deserved to have us both. I’d been half-joking, but she’d agreed, telling us we could share her in and out of bed or never see her again!
Which left me and Joe to figure out the rest. Our love for Bea—and more tequila—got the three of us into bed together. To our surprise, it’d been amazing.
Life-altering.
I couldn’t survive without them both. I’d bought two rings. Tonight after work, I would ask them to marry me.
_______________
Our Roll into Classes Rave had been a blowout last year. Students had stayed up and gone to class still rolling.
We were hosting this year’s version—“Haunted Asylum”—in the basement of an abandoned mental ward outside of town, and expected an even larger turnout. As Joe had said, “Dude, the acoustics down here are sick.” After a few hiccups, he was turning into an excellent DJ.
For hours, we worked our asses off to prep the place. Sundown found us sweating, grimy, and sore, but in good spirits. By the light of our staging lamps, Joe was stacking a huge bank of speakers, while Bea organized the cash till and wristbands. I was securing one of the last lighting units to my effects truss.
During setup, Joe and Bea took care of the “guts,” and I perfected the “skin.” I was in charge of all the design effects, but rave lighting was my passion. From my console, I could control the focus, color, and intensity of the moving beams to amplify the energy of the music and manipulate the attendees’ emotions. Joe and Bea made fun of me, saying I got high on the power.
Now Joe rolled his head on his neck. “I’m finished with my rig.”
Bea said, “Other than trash cleanup, I’m set too.”
Joe squeezed my shoulder. “You need help, Spaniard?”
“I can fit two more light sets along this truss.” It would direct the focus to him. “Could you guys go grab them from the van?”
“We’re on it,” Joe said. He took Bea’s hand, and they headed up the stairs.
The three of us worked together seamlessly. Though I always forgot the cordless drill battery, Bea never failed to bring a backup. Joe made sure we drank enough Gatorade to stay hydrated for the long night ahead. I kept everyone on an even keel whenever something went sideways.