Note: Your favorite Slytherin double updated.
AND WHILE YOU READ LISTEN TO THE AMAZING FANTASTIC MAGICAL SONG INSPIRED BY THE FAMOUX THAT'S ATTACHED TO THE UPDATE. I've been listening to it for months now and I just now realized that I never shared it with you. Please listen and give it some love!
PREVIOUSLY ON THE CLASSIX: Emeray's spiraling out of control. She thinks she saw Foster. Did she? Was he even there? How'd she get that ring? What? What?????
emeray
Maybe it's an aftershock from seeing him, but it feels as if some unseen force is compelling me to emulate Foster Farrand. There's no other reason to explain my sudden urge to be social: On the walk back to the stage where Cartney's explaining his songs, I take the time to stop at every single pack of people I see, saying hello and ask each person about themselves.
What is your name? Your job? Oh, really?
It takes at least two hours to get through the club.
I don't quite know why I'm so suddenly insistent on meeting people. If I could have it my way, I'd never make small talk with a group again. But the basic questions, the forced smilesââit all takes me back to the Polaroid Party, back when getting people to be my friend was the only thing we were worried about. DEFED hadn't given threats to the whole Famoux yet. Their lives weren't on the line. Foster was alive.
Things weren't perfect by any means, but everything was so fresh and new that it looked perfect enough.
As I approach each group, they're taken by surprise as much as Lacey was earlier in the night. I don't blame any of them for it, thoughââfor the past few months Cartney and I have been quite the recluses at every party we've attended. Hell, we're supposed to be recluses tonight, and it's Cartney's party. And yet, here I am.
Perhaps my sudden act of friendliness is a breath of fresh air to some. Perhaps it doesn't seem genuine others. Each person I shake hands with provides a variety of different reactions.
" . . . And you're modeling now?" I ask a girl named Noelle. She's standing with three other girls, all of whom introduced themselves to me as close friends of Kaytee, not Cartney. I'm not sure if that statement is actually valid, but it surely succeeds in adding a layer of tension to the conversation.
She nods, curt. Her replies to me thus far have either been short or comprised of wordless gestures.
"That's really cool," I say, straining my smile. "You know my Fanatix member Gerald? He's a model too."
"Oh?"
"He had his first photoshoot a couple days ago. He actually had me step in to be a model for a few of the pictures."
At this, one of Noelle's friends starts laughing.
"Excuse me?" I ask.
She shakes her head, a smirk lingering on her face. "I justââI didn't know that you were a model too now."
"What?"
"Modeling isn't just something you can step all over like your little acting and singing venturesââyou know that, right? It takes more than that."
Her boldness strikes like a blow I haven't felt in a long time. As her whole group struggles to contain their chuckling, my cheeks start to burn with embarrassment.
Norax's face comes back with a blink.
Disappointment.
"Well." I turn my attention back to Noelle, fighting to keep calm. Fighting fire with fire isn't going to make me look any better. "Maybe I could talk to Gerald about doing a shoot with you."
"Huh?"
"He's doing his next photoshoot with The X in a couple days. I'm sure he'd much rather do the shoot with an actual model."
She stops, glancing at her friends. NonFamoux members rarely ever make an appearance in The X unless they're working with one of us, and even then the staff likes to keep the magazine primarily focused on the group.
"You would do that?" Noelle asks.
"Well, of course."
The look on her face tells me that well, of course wasn't exactly the kind of reply she was expecting from me.
"Thank you," she says, small.
Triumph stirs within me. I didn't exceed her expectation of meââI created an entirely new one.
"If you wouldn't mind me cutting in . . ."
A warm hand rests on my shoulder, and Noelle's face changes again. She and her friends start nudging each other with fervor.
"Let me guess," I say, turning my head. Cartney is so close to me that his nose touches mine. This should be the time for us to kiss, but I step back, feigning a bashful smile. The confusion that splays across his face is visible for only a moment.
"What are you doing, darling?" he asks, stressing the pet name.
"Just saying hello to some of the guests."
His eyes shift to Noelle, to her friends, and then back to me.
"Just saying hello to the guests," he says.
"That's right."
"Well, I haven't seen you all night. Could I steal you away?"
I tell Noelle to find Geraldââthat he's around here somewhere and would love to talk to her. I leave her and her friends looking positively dumbfounded.
Without a word, Cartney leads me toward one of the quieter areas of the club. As we go, I catch my first glimpse of Chapter all night.
My heart dips and rises just at the sight of him. He's standing off across the room, his hands resting in the pockets of his jacket. The look on his face is concentrated, centered in on the person speaking to him. It takes a second for me to see that he's talking to Lex, and for some reason this makes my stomach turn. I tear my gaze from them, picking up the pace behind Cartney.
Tall leather booths and black tables glisten in the corner's dim lighting, only two or three filled with couples whispering to one another. Cartney takes the furthest one from civilization, holding out his hand for me to slide into the booth first. As he joins me on the seat, I realize the firmness to his frown.
"What's up?" I ask.
"I'm wondering what you're doing."
"What?"
He looks at me seriously. I can't help but squirm. "What was that back there? Meeting the guests? Were you promising one of them a photoshoot?"
"I was trying to be cordial."
"And when the hell did cordial become a part of the plan? We're not trying to make people think we're benevolent, amazing human beings, remember? We're trying to make people think we're the most annoying couple they've ever seen."
"We can be annoying without being harsh, Cartney," I snap. "I don't know why we insist on digging ourselves into a whole like this. Being a part of this crazy attached relationship doesn't have to make me a mean person to everybody."
"You backing away from a kiss back there didn't exactly give off the impression of being crazy attached, Ray. It's like you cared what they thought."
"Like you don't?"
"I don't care what they think!" he exclaims. "I care what they feel. They can assume just about anything they want to about me as long as they sort of hate me at the end of the day. That is what keeps me alive. You going around and trying to redeem yourself is going to mess all of that up."
"They're trying to kill you," I say. "You. Not me."
His mouth drops open. "Are you kidding me?"
I say nothing.
"You have to be kidding me. The letter said that Jill came tumbling after, Ray. You're not digging yourself into a wholeââyou're already in it. You've been in it since the moment you left the Fishbowl."
"That's not fair."
"When has this ever been fair? You saw what happened to Foster. He wasn't in last place, but he's gone."
I go to answer, but hesitate, my eyes darting back to the front door. I can remember him pushing through itââthe look on his face. Everything.
"I don't think he's gone," I say.
"Who?"
"Foster. I . . . I think that I saw him."
He scoffs. "That's impossible."
Pulling the ring out of my bag, I place it on the table for him to see. "He handed me this earlier tonight."
I look up from the ring to Cartney, whose face is streaked with confusion. He runs a hand through his hair, swallowing hard.
"How?"
"I don't know. But I know it was him," I continue. "He was moving too fast for me to stop him, but one of the bouncers by the door saw him go too. I'm telling you, Cartney, it was him."
Cartney says nothing. His eyes won't move from the diamond. It takes a few minutes of silence before he finally speaks.
"Where's the bouncer?"
I take him up to the front. The new bouncer is still standing there, surveying the room with precision. His curious look returns as we come up to him.
"Leaving again?" he asks me.
"No," I say. "I actually have a question for you."
"Sure, go for it."
"If you don't mind me asking, where did the bouncer before your shift go? Cartney and I need to speak with him."
The man's eyes narrow.
"Who?"
xxx
If you're confused as hell, good. Good. This is all a part of the plan.
Tell me your thoughts.
Addition I forgot about: NOELLE IN THIS CHAPTER WAS THE LOVELYÂ @NoelleRein. I saw her commenting and threw her name in because I love her.
Have a lovely Friday, Wattpad. I want you to know how much I love you and that I'm so thankful for you. I have that pretty little "verified Wattpad Star" thing by my name on my profile now, and it hit me how impossible something like that would be if it wasn't for you actually reading what I've posted. That being said, PLEASE comment me your story! I want to read it! PLEASE.
Remember:
Sticks and Stones may break your bones but haters make you famoux. Stay classy, stay classix.