Stefan’s question dragged me back into the present.
I managed a quiet laugh. “Not after that currywurst.” I was suddenly very glad I’d taken Karl’s advice and packed a toothbrush.
Stefan finished his glass of wine, and I felt his attention shift. He was watching me again, and not even bothering to be subtle about it.
By now, I was used to it, or at least aware enough not to pretend I wasn’t.
I turned my head towards him. “So, what do you see?”
Stefan smiled. “A man who’s had a very educational day.” Something in his tone made that sound like more than a simple observation.
I chuckled. “That obvious?”
Stefan’s gaze didn’t waver. “Yes.”
When he fell silent, I stared at him. “And?”
There was that familiar knowing smile. “And he’s not looking away anymore.”
And there it was again, that sense of beingseen.
My gaze drifted across the street to a man in a leather harness laughing with a group of friends, then further, to someone being led past on a chain without the slightest hint of self-consciousness.
“It’s so… different.” I glanced at Stefan. “I’d read a bit about Folsom Europe, but this… It isn’t what I expected.”
“That’s because you’re thinking of it as something separate,” he said.
I frowned. “Isn’t it?”
He shook his head, then gestured to the street. “This is just a more visible version of what’s already there.”
I followed his gaze.
“People don’t suddenly become something else for a weekend,” he went on. “They simply stop pretending they’re not.”
I exhaled slowly. “And everyone just… accepts it?”
“Here? Yes.” There was a pause. “That doesn’t mean everyone understands everything they’re seeing,” he added. “But they don’t have to.”
I frowned again. “So what is it, exactly?”
“Folsom?” He tilted his head. “It’s a celebration.”
“Of leather?”
“Of expression,” he corrected. “Of desire. Of the parts people usually keep hidden.”
I took that in for a moment. “And the bars? Like last night?”
“They lean into it,” Stefan told me. “More people. Less inhibition. Fewer boundaries between what’s private and what isn’t.”
I blinked. “That sounds… intense.”
“It can be.” Another pause. “But it doesn’t have to be overwhelming.”
“How? How can you make sure of that?”
He met my gaze. “You go at your own pace.”