Jiang Cheng is sort of having a complicated night. She tilts her chin up, moving to the beat of the track, and her eyes slide over him, top to bottom. The beat goes dirty and buzzing and she has to raise her voice to say, “I don’t do straight guys.” Someone grinds against him and he looks down at the prettiest girl he’s ever seen and says, stupid with something to prove, “Good thing I’m not straight, then.” He sounds like he’s sure of it, even though he’s not, but his best decisions have always been forced out of him by people bolder than he is.