After Hours by Kehlani

By Korie Houston

Pride season in San Diego is here. A time for joy, resistance, and remembering who we are. Not just as individuals, butas a collective. A community. A people. Pride is a celebration, yes, but it’s also a mirror. And this year, it reflects something deeper: that our rights, our identities, our very presence are still being challenged.

“I wanna make magic. I want you to feel me.”

Pride brings me back to some of the most meaningful moments in my life. The first time I felt like I knew what love was. The first time I felt safe in a crowd. Seen, not just tolerated. The first time I knew who I could be. That’s a gift this community gave me. It shaped me. And it’s worth protecting. It reminded me that beauty can come from a perfect stranger or in the embrace of chosen family.

It’s also what called me to speak up. To show up. Not because it’s easy, but because the work has to be done. If we’re not pushing for change, we’re standing still. Pride isn’t about giving visibility to some. It’s about creating equity for all. So let’s make some magic.

“A room full of strangers, different faces.”

Kehlani’s song, although interpreted as just a song about meeting someone for the night, can also be about the reasons people come into our lives.

It can also be about the moment when the music quiets and the lights dim. When the celebration softens and you’releft with your thoughts. The reflection in the mirror. The quiet question: What are you really looking for?

Kehlani’s “After Hours” isn’t just a late-night anthem. It’s longing with a beat. It’s vulnerability dressed in rhythm. When she sings, “I want you to free me,” it’s not just about intimacy. It’s about liberation — the kind that starts from within and only grows stronger in connection.

In those quieter moments, something else comes into focus. Love and community. The ones who show up when theglitter fades. The ones who stay when it’s no longer loud or easy. In the after hours, when everything gets real.

“It’s more than a moment. This can’t be a memory.”

We talk a lot about softness now. But for many of us, softness has always been a kind of resistance. Being gentle in a world that rarely makes space for us is a radical act.

Kehlani gives us permission. To want without shame. To feel deeply. To be seen not in parts, but as a whole. That’s what Pride should be about — not just being visible, but being known.

This season is full of neon lights and loud joy. But it’s also full of quiet truths. Of shared glances. Of small acts of care.The party matters, but so do the moments that happen after hours. That’s where we return to ourselves. That’s where we find each other again.

So why don’t we stay after hours? Kehlani’s music encompasses, for me, what it means to be in community, and I look forward to seeing her perform this anthem in all of our queer beauty.

So now let’s ask ourselves, when the night winds down and the crowd thins out:

Who are you when there’s nothing left to perform? And who’s still there, seeing you fully? That’s the power of being in community.