Park across the street from the hotel, so that you see the sheer material of the curtains solidify where they overlap, and feel emboldened. Step out of the car; draw in the new night until you are breathless. Hear sounds of anticipation from the event center and accept the illumination of the night sky by stadium lights as a vision. Listen, for a while, to the clack of high heels on pavement and only notice after minutes that they are your own and that you have a new way of walking—lifting your leg at the hip, placing one foot in a line in front of the other, so that your short skirt swings and you feel hypnotic.

Cross at the intersection; feel eyes on your exposed skin as you make your way beneath the red glow of traffic lights. Breeze through the sports fans in the lobby and feel superior, because tonight they are spectators. Leave innocence on the ground floor as the elevator rises and the secret tunnels of your body reveal themselves to you. Step into the hallway, find his door, knock. When he opens, shirtless, with the dark mysterious hole of the room behind him, understand that the steps that brought you here can never be repeated.