I float beneath the ceiling.

On the red carpet, my body glows: satin, silk, jewelry worth ten times my parents’ house.

My body hugs cast members, producers. Gets felt up.

I miss home.

The afterparty. I ride a thick line of cocaine back into my body.

Feeling whole… doesn’t last.

Maura Yzmore is a Midwest-based writer of short fiction and a science professor. Find more of her writing at maurayzmore.com/stories/ or say ‘hi’ on Twitter @MauraYzmore.