I'm posting this to you from Wattpad HQ in Toronto! It's been such a wonderful weekend here, and it's completely affirmed how important writing this story is to me.
The other writers around me right now have been so kind and inspiring, and as one of the smaller accounts here at HQ (they have multiple stories with multiple millions whereas I have just Famoux) I've realized how much is possible to accomplish with writing. GAH, I'm just so emotional and excited right now!!
This chapter hopefully is exciting. I got to write it at HQ, so I wanted to make something reckless and spur of the moment.
PREVIOUSLY ON THE CLASSIX: The new members are here, and Gerald is one of them! Let's now have meaningless dialogue and a very quick and random plot twist, shall we?
emeray
"Is that who I think it is?"
The level of surprise in Chapter's voice is enough to make Gerald chuckle. "Better believe it, Stones."
Better believe it. If I was to pick a motto for everything that's happened in my time as a Famoux member, Gerald's words would definitely go into consideration.
In the time between our conversation up in my room and our return to the living room, the entire rest of the Famoux have made their way back to the Metropolix, found their new members, and are currently seated with them among teacups and dainty pastries. We take a seat at the nearest open areaââa purple velvet loveseat Lex appears to have been saving for us.
"I'm sorry for disappearing," I tell her.
She flicks her wrist. "No! Don't worry! I totally understand. You probably needed some time with him, right?"
I get the exact look I'm expecting when I glance over at Norax across the room. Her face is stiff, lips pursed firmly like a statue. What Lex has just said is perhaps the last thing she wanted to hear.
Taking a chance to be daring, I offer her a shrug. If she didn't want those rumors of Gerald and I being in love to look so prevalent again, she shouldn't have made him a member. That's on her, not me.
"Yeah," I agree, eyes on Norax. "Needed some time."
And it's true, really. Without a moment alone, I might've still been so struck from his sudden arrival. Back in the closet a few minutes ago, I was still so overwhelmed.
"Come on out of there and I'll tell you all about him," he'd told me, and so I did. With a deep, jagged breath, I propped my elbows against the wall and the drawer beside me. Pushing down on them for support, I slowly shifted myself out of the space, counting aimlessly in my head in an effort to settle my spinning thoughts. I'd once heard that counting was supposed to calm you downââmaybe it'd work today. I almost got to eighteen when Gerald grabbed both my hands, speeding the processes with one tug.
"It's crammed in there. Let me help you," he said, assisting me to my feet. Halfway through the motion I leaned backward toward the wall, shrugging out of his grip. The soft look on his face sagged immediately. "What's the matter?"
I stole another glance at his shirt as I steadied myself into a standing position. Light pink. "You're not my guard anymore."
"So only guards can help you get up from the floor now?"
"You look like a student."
"Was I supposed to dress up in my uniform again? Do you want me to wear those colors? I'll wear them for the rest of my life if it makes you comfortable."
Eyes glued to the closet floor, I gave no response. After a few seconds of waiting, Gerald exhaled, dramatically leaning his body to try and meet my eyes.
"Emeray," he said. "That's not fair. Will you look at me?"
When I didn't budge, he strained.
"Emeray. I get it, this is incredibly out of the ordinary. I was probably the last person you expected to come out there as your new member. Regardless of my explanations, I understand your shock, and even anger. If you'd justââ"
He stopped speaking the moment I drew him into an hug. At first he was a bit surprised by the impact, but it took all of five seconds for the muscles in his arms to relax against around me, and for my exhale to settle softly past his ear like a whisper. We stood this way for a few seconds longer, wordless, as I thought about all the lives I could feel passing through this embrace.
People I lostââmy mother, my brother, Foster.
People I leftââmy sister and father, Marlon.
And as odd as the circumstances are, Gerald was back. For the first time in a while, it occurred to me that it could be possible for people to return when they've stepped from your sight, and sometimes they return in the way you'd least expect.
But as long as they return in the end, what does it matter how they're returning to you?
"Don't think I'm angry at you," I told him. "I'm not angry."
"Good," he whispered in reply.
"I just thought you were gone forever. It was a real surprise downstairs when you walked in."
"I know too well how you feel about being surprised." He stepped back to look at me, the sides of his eyes crinkled with his smile. In that moment, they were brown and greenââolive. I made sure I fully, wholly notice them. "Did you really think Norax would get rid of me for good?"
"Well yeah, actually," I admitted. "She was really cautious about the dating rumor when it came up. She got a replacement and made you leave."
" . . . just so she could primp me up and send me right back into the ring as an official member," he finishes with a chuckle.
"But why?" I asked.
"Why not?"
"It just doesn't make sense to me," I say. "Nobody has ever suspected a romance between Chapter and I like they have me and you, and yet she created contracts and boundaries to extinguish that. How could making you a Famoux member be a good idea here?"
He shrugged. "She didn't do too good of a job explaining it when she approached me. If there's anything we've learned about Norax, though, it's that she takes the logical, expected outcome and completely capsizes it."
I laughed. "I don't disagree."
After that, we retreated back downstairs into the subdued chaos. He told me a few quick facts about him along the way. By the time we made it to the living room, I'd discovered that he's a year younger than Cartney Kirk, that it was Norax who requested his hair be blonder for his Famoux debut, and that the F stands for Francis.
"Francis Gerald Hobby," I said aloud, marveling.
"Quite the mouthful, huh?"
The whole living room is getting this self-proclaimed mouthful from him now as I speak with Lex.
"But you can just call me Gerald, really," he tells them. "That's what everyone calls me. I think it suits me much better than Francis."
"And you already seem to know the Famoux?" Race's member Sam asks. His brow is raised presumptuously, like he already knows Gerald's association without having to ask the question.
Gerald senses this immediately. "That is correct."
Sam's eyes flicker over to me with curiosity. I nod, confirming his prediction. "He used to be my bodyguard."
"And now he's a member, too?"
Chapter shrugs from across the room. "Well, he was basically an honorary member already."
"And not Cartney?"
I get a flare of worry in my chest at this. The new members are here, I freshly recall, because they're supposed to confirm to the world that certain rumors about us aren't true. We're barely a couple hours into their arrival, and people are already questioning Cartney, Gerald, everything.
The conversation is dismissed by awkward silence. Everybody in the room turns their attention to Norax, smooths out the front of her shirt. Clearing her throat, she begins her introductory speech.
"To start off, welcome to the Metropolix. We're preparing sleeping arrangements for all of you as we speak, but fear not, we won't be here for long. In a few days we'll be moving out to a bigger house beside the city, where everybody will have their fare share of free space and breathing room."
My eyes widen, remembering how she mentioned relocation earlier.
"Tomorrow," she continues, "you're all going to be on a global television broadcast to announce this situation to the whole world."
There's a collective nervous murmur from the new members. Lex gasps so loud beside me that I offer my hand for her to hold onto. She's already sweating the moment our palms touch.
"What show are we going on?" asks Kaytee.
"Ansel on Eighteen."
I smile small from my seat. Following my first interview with him, Ansel's show completely took off. He's currently considered one of the most important journalists in Delicatum. To have been able to make that possibleââto positively affect somebody's life in such a wayââis something I often forget I have the power to do in my position. It's so easy to forget all the positives you can make out of anything with a negative.
"To make it easier for everybody to understand, we've decided that the original members will be referred to as the Classix," she states. "Since you've been there for longer, we thought it would be quite fitting."
A chill runs down my spine. The Classix. I can already imagine what I'll hear in the Analytix about it. If there's any version of the Famoux that should be referred to as the Classix, it's the one that contained Foster and Bree, if not the entire first generation before us. To call me classix feels like a lie.
Norax continues as I reflect. "Since the new members are representative of the public, their name is going to be the Fanatix*. These are the two ways that Ansel is going to refer to you tomorrow."
"Wait, so we're divided into groups?" asks Elle.
"Well, I wouldn't call it a division, really. All together, the lot of you make up the Famoux as a whole. After all, there aren't any divisions within the Famoux."
It occurs to me that the very nature of that statement is a ploy to dismiss any rumors of animosity within the Famoux. It's becoming more and more prevalent to me that every aspect of life can, in some way, be a ploy for something.
"Since there are so many of you now, I've decided that I might need a little help managing everything."
"More managers?" says Till.
Norax smiles. "Precisely. It's been my job for years now, so I'll predominantly be managing the Classix. The Fanatix will get our newest addition to the Famoux staff. Of course, I'll still be the main manager of everybody, and both the Fanatix and the Classix are still going to be one totally connected unit. I just need a few extra hands."
"Is the new manager here right now?" I ask.
"He should be arriving any minute." Norax squints her eyes at Angad by the living room entrance. "Is he here yet?"
"Just got in. He's putting away his coat."
"Oh, good."
The room goes silent waiting for him. I can make out footfall in the kitchen, drawing nearer and nearer to the living room.
He hasn't even taken a full step inside before I nearly pass out.
If I felt as thought the the kitchen could collapse when Gerald walked into the Metropolix, this living room may as well already be dust, burning into nothing.
The smithereens set like embers in his caramel-colored eyes. Even worse, I'm the closest one to the entrance, so those eyes are immediately deposited on me. It's a completely innocent, excited expression. Harmless. All the same, my hands start shaking so feverishly that I have to pretend to adjust a pillow just to hide them.
Chapter stands up, feigning diplomacy. It doesn't go over wellââthe shock and brewing anger is prevalent in his set jaw.
If the new manager notices the tension, he gives no indication. "I'm really excited to be here with you guys," he tells us. "It's really cool of my mom to let me do this."
And that's when Norax puts her arm around him with motherly affectionââmore motherly than I've ever seen her be. Because she is his mother.
"This is the new manager of the Fanatix. You'll be seeing a lot of him from now on. He's my son, actually. His name is Carstan."
xxx
*This is changed from The Publix. Apparently Publix is a pretty fantastic supermarket.
AHH. Tell me your thoughts.
I'm honestly sitting here right now with some Wattpad HQ coffee, and I've never been more excited to just generally be alive.
I love you so much for reading. Thank you for that. The amount of times I've cried in my hotel room this trip thinking about how lucky I am to have you reading this is innumerable.
Thank you. THANK YOU.
Remember: Sticks and Stones may break your bones, but haters make you famoux. Stay classy, stay classix.