Chapter Eight
Spin had just begun her crescendo when the music died, and everything around her came crashing down. She was running over her set time of two hours, but she hadn’t felt the slightest bit of fatigue because the crowd was so into it and so responsive.
It was always hard coming into a new club or a new clique, but Spin was a pretty good read of people. The average person could lie with words and tell her they liked a certain type of music. Or that she’d done a good job even when she knew a mix wasn’t exactly on the beat. The movement of a crowd of bodies always told the truth.
The small crowd of less than one hundred of Parker’s employees and friends had held up the walls when Spin had first dropped the needle. They cast doubtful glances at the disco anthem she began with. Bu
