Club July 1987 -

"Leo. I’m with the synth-pop guys," Leo lied, gesturing vaguely toward a group of men in pleated trousers and skinny ties.

The DJ, a man known only as 'Static,' was currently transitioning from Pet Shop Boys into New Order. The dance floor was a sea of lace gloves, shoulder pads, and Ray-Bans worn indoors. It was the peak of the "Greed is Good" era, but inside Club July, the only currency that mattered was coolness. Club July 1987

Mina didn't look at him. She just blew a thin stream of smoke toward the ceiling. "In 1987? The world already ended. We’re just dancing on the ruins." "Then we might as well do it right," he replied. The dance floor was a sea of lace

"Name?" the bouncer grunted, looking like a man carved from a granite quarry. She just blew a thin stream of smoke toward the ceiling

Leo pushed toward the bar, ordering a Bartles & Jaymes wine cooler. That’s when he saw her—. She was leaning against a chrome pillar, wearing a leather jacket despite the ninety-degree heat, her eyes rimmed in heavy kohl. She looked like she had just stepped out of a movie that hadn't been filmed yet.

Leo stood at the velvet rope, adjusting his oversized blazer. He wasn’t on the list, but in July of ’87, you didn't need to be on the list if you had the right hair. His was a gravity-defying masterpiece of Aqua Net and sheer willpower.