Nancy

Old friends reconnect at a bachelorette party with the help of bad karaoke.

TropesPlatonic Love, Estranged Relationship

I’m trying not to stare.

The six of us are gathered in an East Village dive bar to celebrate Lindsay’s impending nuptials.

Lindsay, I kept in touch with through social media and the occasional weekend in LA, where she fled to after we graduated high school.

Mandy, I see every few months for brunch, where we complain about working and dating in the Big Apple.

Lucy and Tina are Lindsay’s sister and cousin, respectively. This is the first time we’re meeting so we’ve never been close.

Nancy is a whole nother story. We were besties since 10th grade, like ‘braid each other’s hair, exchange friendship bracelets’ close. We were ride or die until I went to Brandeis and she studied abroad in Berlin, fell in love, and stayed there for the last 10 years. She was never a big fan of social media so we lost touch. I hardly recognize her now.

Her long, platinum blonde hair is cut short, dyed a deep auburn brown. The cherubic face we used to tease her about has matured with age. Now there’s a hoop running through her nose, a bar through her left ear, and a snake bite on her lips. There’s a dragon sitting on her chest, tail wrapped around her neck, and another tattoo peeking out of the left sleeve of her cropped leather shirt. She looks badass but I wonder where my bright-eyed, angelic bestie went?

The music cuts and the emcee takes center stage, “Alright, ladies and gents! It’s time for what you’ve all been waiting for—Drum roll, please!” Silence. You could hear a chuckle from backstage. “…Karaoke Night! Sign up at the bar and pick your song. Time to get the magic rolling!”

“Oh my God!” Lindsay exclaims, already nursing her fourth Gin and Tonic. “That sounds so fun! We should do it! Should we do it!?”

A couple of groans greet her suggestion but Lucy is gunho. “Let’s go!”

As they leave for the bar, an idea hits me and I jump after them. I know the perfect song.

When it’s my turn to sing, I grip the mic and try not to shake too much. The first notes play. “I want to break free, I want to break free…I want to break free from your lies, you’re so self-satisfied, I don’t need you…”

I make eye contact with Nancy during the chorus. She’s ecstatic! This song was her kryptonite back in the day. We even got the DJ to play it at Prom.

When I sit down, Nancy grabs my hand and gives it a shake, “You killed it! That was amazing! I love Queen!”

“I know,” I grin. There she is.

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