Chemistry is a private, members-only party, but joining felt as easy as applying to a coworking space: Daisy visited their website, sent an email, filled out a questionnaire, and, when accepted, was added to a newsletter list. Then she waited for the next party date to arrive.
It was on Valentine’s Day. The theme, which Chemistry sets months in advance, was “My Apocalyptic Valentine.” In retrospect, as a respiratory virus loomed, it was foreboding, but in those early months, it was simply funny. Although the Hong Kong office of the international ad agency Daisy works for had closed and its employees were working from home, she felt safe. If people were worried about catching anything, it certainly wasn’t the novel coronavirus.
Daisy arrived at the party in a warehouse in Bushwick, Brooklyn, around 11:30 p.m. Projectors displayed wastelands on walls, and biohazard signs abounded. People walked around in plague doctor masks—the European kind with beaks—which they later shed along with their clothes.
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