Note: I'm here, I'm here! I know I'm the worst.
But I love you, all right? I don't want you to ever think I'm blowing this story off, because I've spent this whole week going through all the possible plots to make this story better. At the point of book one, I was just as stressed out and scattered as I am now. College hasn't changed anything.
PREVIOUSLY ON THE CLASSIX: Emeray got roasted by Norax. If you're wondering why the hell Emeray still cares about what Norax thinks, just remember how horribly manipulative Norax was in the beginning. There's a tint of dressed-down Stockholm syndrome there.
emeray
"How about a party?"
"A party?"
Lex looks at Cartney with confusion, and I can't blame her. The very origin of this question was off to begin with: Approaching her bedroom, Cartney and I came to Lex with the explicit intentions of inviting her to something, anything. We wore expressions so resolute to this objective that when she opened the door, she jumped back like a rabbit when she saw us. Afraid we might bite her.
Since my meeting with Norax yesterday, I've felt a indescribable amount of guilt regarding the way I've been treating Lex. I tossed and turned all night thinking about my short replies, my blatant avoidance. A part of me had been assuming that after everything that happened on the Onward Train set, she must've been like Chapter's member Elleâânot a fan, per se, but a skeptic trying to weed out our secrets. To hear from Norax that this is actually not the case, and that I've been icing out someone who looks up to me . . . I'm just genuinely surprised that Lex hasn't released a nasty review of my character to every tabloid in Delicatum by now.
That being said, her opinion is a virtue. If I can change her mind about me after ignoring her for weeks on end, maybe then I'd be able to change the world's mind about me after the obvious impending breakup between Cartney and I. Plus, it would do well to put me on Norax's good side again. Just remembering the way she told me how disappointed she was in me makes me want to curl up into a ball and never reemerge.
This morning I decided to take the first step to winning Lex's trust once more. And what better way is there to make her feel so incredibly included than bringing her into my boyfriend's and my plans?
This took Cartney by surprise when he arrived at the Hideaway this afternoon, a fresh batch of flowers in tow.
"You want to invite her to a party? With us?" he asked.
"Well, yeah," I said.
"But we're an exclusive duo, Ray. We've spent weeks establishing this persona. Hell, we've even made our own bodyguards walk a little further away from us so we can solely be together."
"I need Lex to like me, Cartney."
"What for? So she can go off and tell the world about how nice we are and make them like us again?" He puckered his face, sour. "That's a death sentence. Look at these poppies I brought youââthey represent death."
"We don't even know that for sure."
"DEFED doesn't bluff, Ray."
I crossed my arms over my chest, searching for a good explanation. Cartney, just like Till and Chapter, has expressed to me his inherent dislike toward Norax. She, in his words, gives him the creeps. I could say the same some days, but other daysââother days she's still the one person who told me I meant something. My mom ran away, and Norax ran to me. And yes, she changed me, and she pushed me into contracts, but she ran to me, and there aren't too many people who can say the same.
It's difficult to explain the dynamics of it to myself most of the time, much less to anybody else.
"She's not going to suddenly make us the most loved couple in Delicatum after one night," I assured him. "If anything, she's going to realize how awful it is to be around us and give the world the inside scoop about it."
He considered it, tapping his chin. "I guess it wouldn't hurt for us to have some quotations from secondary sources along with our own. We'll have to be very unnecessary. Like, gushing to her way too much information."
"We can do that."
He nodded to himself, perhaps envisioning it further. "Good, good. DEFED will probably like that, too. Anything that gets me through the freaking night."
And here we are now, hands laced together showily, shifting maladroitly in the doorframe of Lex's bedroom.
"The party's happening to build some more anticipation for Cartney's album," I tell her. "You know, 'You're Impossible'?"
She nods.
"Well, you're gonna get to hear it before it comes out next week. They'll be playing it all night long."
"ââand you'll have me standing there next to you, giving you all the details about what each song is about," adds Cartney. "Full-length stories and everything."
"It's also at Ace. You know, the oneââ"
"Wait, Ace?"
I stop, surprised by her urgency. "Uh, yeah."
Lex's jaw drops, her composure falling to the floor at once. "Oh my gosh! The Famoux goes there all the time! I have so many pictures of you guys leaving and entering, oh, I've always wanted to go!"
Cartney smirks. "Well, you are a Famoux member, aren't you?"
Her eyes widen, as if she'd forgotten.
"I am," she says.
"Then come with us," I say.
"Are you sure?" she asks. She looks down at her hands, suddenly solemn. Her drastic switches in mood on the movie set start to make much more sense the longer I'm around her. "I don't want you to justââ"
"No, I want to take you," I insist, cutting off her chance to make me feel any worse than I do about the whole matter. "I'm not doing this because I'm obligated to, I'm doing this because I want to."
"Are you sure?" she repeats.
"I understand if you don't want to go. But everyone's going to be all over Cartney asking him questions, so it'd be nice to have you around to hang out with."
Lex smiles. I'm reminded of how it felt to have Kaytee want to take me to lunches and events back when I first joined the Famoux. If she feels even a fraction of what I did, I'm doing a good job here.
"Okay, I'll go," she says. She rushes to the vanity by her closet. "But I need to get ready for it. When are we leaving?"
"In around two hours," Cartney says, checking his watch. "But take all the time you need, honestly. The star of the show always arrives late."
I leave Lex's room with a deep sense of relief. When I exhale, my shoulders square up a little higher now with less weight. Thereââone thing improved.
After a climb up the stairs and a few turns, we finally approach the Classix's moderately hidden hallway of room. Turning to Cartney, I take the bouquet of poppies he's still holding.
"Thank you for including Lex tonight," I say.
He gives me a peck on the cheek. "Don't sweat it, girlfriend of mine."
I furrow my brows at him, glancing beyond us. Sure enough, I find Chapter standing right at his door, a small stack of books tucked in the crook of his arm. I meet his gaze immediately.
He looks away, nodding to Cartney beside me. "I don't have a camera, you asshole. You can drop it."
"C'mon." Cartney laughs. "You know I'm only playing around, Roman."
Chapter winces at the name, gripping his books tighter to his chest. Our hallway is a safe area, but even so, I glance every which way to make sure no Fanatix member is secretly listening in. "Yeah," he says, "but at what expense?"
"At any expense I want."
"You could at least hold off until we get to the party. God knows you're going to make a show out of your relationship every chance you get there."
"Wait, you're going?" Cartney asks. "To my album party?"
"Why, yes I am."
"Since when?"
"Since your record label reached out to me. They thought you needed some public support from more popular figures."
"Excuse me?"
Chapter can't help his grin. "I don't think there are too many celebrities these days who want to be associated with you."
"Please. My album is the most anticipated one this year."
"They want to hear you spill secrets about what happened between you and Kaytee. But other than that, they don't necessarily like you as a person. Haven't you read any the magazines lately? People like Kaytee and Race now."
Cartney goes to say something in reply, but can't find the words. He takes a deep breath, exhaling with frustration. "Well whatever. Who the hell wants to make friends in the industry anyway? They disappear after two years. I mean, where's that Marlon York gone? One hit, then nothing. Nobody's got enough shelf life."
"Whatever you need to tell yourself."
Chapter then turns his knob, disappearing into his room before Cartney can say anything else.
"That jerk," Cartney mutters.
"You were being a jerk first," I point out.
"Well, that's expected from me. I've been the brutally-honest-yet-delightful guy in almost every tabloid story I've been in."
"And what's Chapter?"
"I dunnoââthe constantly-brooding-about-something guy."
"Oh, that's untrue!" I exclaim.
"It's completely true. That 'I'm-damaged-but-ready-to-love-you' face he wears all the time is half the reason he's got such a devout following." He taps my nose. "I mean, it got you too, didn't it?"
I blush, shaking my head. "He's more than that. Just like I've found that you're more than the honest, rude guy. In fact, you're probably more of the brooding, damaged kind than Chapter is. I mean, all those months of us walking around, listening to the same one song on repeatââ"
"Okay, okay." He puts his hands up. "Let's leave it there. You should be getting ready now, boy-crazy-and-sorta-mean girl."
My blood goes cold. "Wait, is that actually what they say about me?"
Cartney assures to me that he's only exaggerating because I'd been teasing him, but the cold feeling doesn't cease, not even when I make it to my room. We've been purposely dropping our likability for DEFED, so I know I shouldn't feel so stung about it, but I just can't help myself. Just as I am with Norax, there's a part of me that craves approval from the massesââthe kind of approval I never had.
As I get ready in the bathroom, I rub my my head. The ever recurring and constant ricocheting back and forth on my feelings for the public and for Norax make my head hurt just to think about. I don't know why I can't just let them both dislike me if it means I get to be happier. I don't know why I'd rather be unhappy.
When my makeup is done and my outfit is perfected, I check the Analytix next to my shower. I know the results will only make me upset, but I do it anyway.
Cartney's title comes back to mind. Boy-crazy-and-sorta-mean girl. That can't possibly be what they think of me. After all, I've only been with Cartney in my time in the limelight, unless they're counting Marlon York as well. The boy-crazy part is redundant.
The voices of a dozen kids, reporters, and various others come flooding into my ears. I close my eyes and let them in.
As it turns out, there's one thing Cartney got right.
They do think I'm mean.
xxx
Things are SUPPOSED to be a little low right now. We're at, like, page 200 something now. We're on the verge of some of the most fun plot twists I've ever thought of. STAY WITH ME!
I'll be back soon. You deserve a lot more than I've given you as of late. I hope you know how much you mean to me.
Please comment your name right here. I'm bringing a new character in and I'd love to make that character you!!!
Have a wonderful Saturday, Wattpad. Remember:
Sticks and Stones may break your bones, but haters make you famoux. Stay classy, stay classix.