DANIS
he sat on the edge of her squeaky childhood bed, swinging her legs and listening to the TV blare downstairs. The walls were covered with music posters for Duran Duran, Tears for Fears, Madonna, and Dani’s 80s pop music favorite—The GoGo’s, Beauty & The Beat album.
Smiling, she still remembered the lyrics. “Hush, my darling. Don’t you cry. Quiet, angel. Forget their lies. Pay no mind to what they say. It doesn’t matter anyway. Hey, hey, hey. Our lips are sealed.”
A band of only girls, she’d once considered punk, fresh new voices. Dani had danced to that song repeatedly in her room.
She suddenly cringed with embarrassment, remembering Peter’s reaction the first time he’d seen her “white girl tribute wall.” Like she hadn’t known that people of color also made great music.
After tha
