NOTE: Hey! Long time no see! Let's get right to it, shall we?
PREVIOUSLY ON THE CLASSIX: So Emeray and Chapter did their kiss scene, and Cartney showed up. They're on the set of a movie and they're about to go home. If you're someone who read the first draft, things are gonna start to change the moment they get home. Hold tight.
EMERAY
When I walk into my trailer, Gerald is waiting for me, flipping through a magazine. He's seated at the dining area, clad in full sentry wareââfrom the bulletproof vest to the belt full of at least four different firearms. It's a new regulation, since the Darkening, that the entire uniform be worn by the Famoux's guards at all times. After all, if DEFED tries to get anyone by surprise, it'd be them jumping out to deflect any bullets coming our way.
His helmet is on the table, its rounded edge rocking back and forth against the hardwood like faint music. When he looks up from the tabloid and sees me, he can't seem to contain the funny look on his face.
"Uh oh," I say. "What's wrong?"
"Do you even want to know?"
"What is it?"
"Well, Emeray." He rises from his seat with a cough, gaining his composure as best as possible. "I do believe I deserve a raise from my current payment as a sentry."
"Huh?"
"I mean, since the Notness Newsflash has finally figured out that I am the man who, quote, has stolen you away from Cartney Kirk, I think I should be getting some more special treatment than the other guards."
When my face scrunches up, Gerald bursts into laughter. He hands me the magazine, pointing at the headline: FAMOUX GUARD STEALS EMERAY ESSENCE'S HEART. HOW IS CARTNEY COPING? Beside a hefty block of text full with quotes from apparent "inside sources" is a blown-up image of the a time where Gerald held my hand to lead me through the front doors of a restaurant. The caption claims that I was, in fact, not on my way to lunch with Cartney, but secretly having lunch with my, erm, "kind, hunky bodyguard."
"They didn't," I say.
"Oh, but they did."
I sigh. "What are they claiming now?"
"They're mostly saying that ever since your apparent secret lover Foster passed, your emotions really needed a protector." Gerald snorts. "Get it, because I'm a guard?"
"This is the worst rumor they've made yet."
"I hear you on that one. They usually never look past you and Cartney in paparazzi shots long enough to notice I'm around." He taps one of the paragraphs on the page. "The best part of it all if how they're claiming that Kaytee and Race went out and revealed this because you exposed them to Cartney, apparently, and they're just returning the favor by revealing your own personal affair. Like damn, Notness Newsflash is pretty bloodthirsty with this one."
I put a hand to my forehead, exhaling loud and distressed. Ever since people agreed that they loved Cartney's and my relationship, dozens of gossip tabloids have been pulling fictitious articles out of no where to try and ruin us. In the last few months I've been romantically tied to about a dozen different men, all of which have been accused of having some variation of a fist fight with Cartney in the process. The most recurring rumors have been secret flames with everyone from Foster, to Marlon, to Race, and a myriad of actors and singers I've never even met before.
And now, I guess, Gerald.
Luckily for us, our fans see right through it for the most part. Even more, they get angry at these tabloids for trying to spread fake stuff like that. The other members, of course, aren't so lucky. Similar headlines for Kaytee and Race make them consistent lightning rods for outrage. These stories come frequently, too, since every magazine in Delicatum wants to take any opportunity available to be the ones who break up "the couple the world never asked for." Till happens to get muddled into affairs rumors regularly as well, but Chapterââto no one's surpriseââconsistently stays out of it. It appears that the world actively prefers him to irrevocably be the bachelor of their dreams.
"You literally couldn't have picked a worse Famoux guy to be secretly in love with," Cartney whispered to me once when we passed a stand of tabloids. "It would've been so much easier on you if you were in love with anybody less world-beloved for being single. Good luck trying to date him when the contract's up."
"Why does this keep happening?" I ask Gerald, mostly rhetorical.
"It's not like it isn't good press for you two," he says, shrugging. "All you have to do is go on another walk, look dizzyingly in love, and suddenly everyone's going to boycott this magazine for being unfair to you."
"Oh, that's not true."
He grins, shaking his head. "It's happened on multiple occasions already, and you know that. You're like this little gumdrop everyone suddenly wants to protect."
I hand him back the magazine with a glare. He laughs, saying something about how Cartney's and my fans are "the most touchy people in the world" as I move to the bedroom area in the back of the trailer. There's a mirror bolted onto one of the walls next to my bed, and I pretend to fix my hair in it while he goes on. Everything he says is true, but it makes me uncomfortable to admit it. A part of me thinks that if I ever acknowledge how truly well I'm doing in the public eye, DEFED is going to swoop in and ruin it.
"I just hope this doesn't affect my shift or something," Gerald continues, folding the magazine in half. He sets it down into a wastebasket as leisurely as placing clothes in a drawer. "You know, if everyone starts attacking me too. God, if the Famoux network people make me sit in some awful closed up room filing papers because of one little rumor . . ."
"They wouldn't," I assure him. "I mean, you're the only guard who knows about the dating contract, and how Chapter isn't allowed to be around me and everything. I assume Norax doesn't want to flaunt that knowledge to too many people."
"You've got a point."
Gerald steps outside the trailer to give me time to change and pack my bags. Since all the scenes for Onward Train that are set in Notness are finished, we're coming back to Betnedoor to film the last few scenes. The new set location might be quite far away from the capital Colburn, but Norax insists Chapter and I commute from the Metropolix to the new set everyday, just so the paparazzi gets used to seeing us again after this month of being, for the most part, nowhere to be found.
The few weeks I've had on Onward Train's Notness set have been fleeting and fortuitous. Even though Cartney has been by my side nearly every second, the moments he has to step away from me so I can film a scene are moments I've gotten to stand with Chapter and proclaim unbreakable love. Albeit, he has to tell me that he loves Zara, the character I'm acting as, but it's a million times better than the way he's been barely allowed to stand in the same room as me in the Metropolix. Plus, the movie sets I've been on thus far have always feel so bustling and alive, which is quite the change from the somber silence among the members and I when we're all together behind closed doors.
Needless to say, I am not looking forward to coming back home today. The way things have been going these past months, I'm not even sure I can call the Metropolix much of a home, anyway.
There isn't much for me to pack, since most of the outfits I've worn this past month are ones from the wardrobe department. I'm out of my trailer in less than ten minutes, yet everybody is somehow already outside, waiting on me like I've taken a week.
The flight is quiet, mostly. Gerald chats with Chapter and Cartney's bodyguards, discussing techniques on how to get us through crowds quicker, or how to avoid them entirely. Here and there they slip in stories about their families, maybe their kids, a wife, siblings. It's all an interesting concept to me; I can't help but eavesdrop while I stare into space. Here we are, Chapter, Cartney, and I, caught in our varying shades of trapped and panicked since Foster's death. Chapter is his own to save, and as is Cartney, and as am I. But Gerald and the other bodyguards? We are theirs to save. Don't they have their own lives, worthy of saving? Their families, their wives, their siblings? Yet, we somehow come first. It's in the job description. It's what they signed up for.
I make a note to ask Gerald about his friends and family sometime. I only ever really hear about them in passing.
In the real Colburn, there are plenty clouds on this snowy day in March. Here, I don't walk as freely as I did on set, nor dare get to walk toward Chapter like I did earlier today. Our guards form their barrier, pushing the three of us celebrities through a mob of flashing cameras and brusque shouts. The paparazzi must be delightedââwe're back! A whole month of having to follow around Kaytee and Till on their lunches must've been dreary. But here we are: More meat has come to be prepared on their flashing-bulb grills.
When our big black car arrives in front of the Metropolix, Cartney gets out to open my door. The cameras go crazy for it. Blocked off by metal barriers, fans lunge toward our direction with near life-sized posters of us. We have most certainly been missed.
We might as well make a show out of the attention we're getting after months of rumors while on set, so we kissââshort enough that it doesn't seem forced, but long enough that the paparazzi get enough good shots for tomorrow's front pages.
This kiss on a Colburn street is nothing like the one I experienced this morning. There is no actual feeling attached.
When we part, he nods to the entrance of the Metropolix. "Would it be entirely unnecessary if I were to come in and help you settle and everything?"
"It would probably be better if you joined instead of leaving," I say.
And there we go into the Metropolixââme, Cartney, and Chapter, with guards holding briefcases trailing after us.
I expected a nice, calm welcome from Norax when we show up in the kitchen, but she isn't even there as we walk in. Instead, the first thing I see when I enter is Kaytee, Race, and Till seated at the bar chairs, talking about something that goes absolutely silent when they look over. When Cartney appears behind me, Kaytee turns away quicker than I've ever seen. Race gets rigid, occupying himself with whatever paper is in front of him.
My stomach drops at once. Though I already knew they would ignore me again, a part of me had been wishing in earnest that they'd change their minds.
"Oh, you guys are back," Till says. She offers me a small smile, which fills me with immeasurable hope. "Hey."
"Hey," I reply, my voice smaller than intended.
"How was everything on set?"
"It went fine," says Chapter, his voice nonchalant. He hangs up his coat in the adjoining mudroom. "Another weird script. You know how it is."
"Oh, I do." She nods, laughing a little. "Norax really loves giving you all the dramatic, moody scripts, doesn't she?"
Keeping his eyes trained on the papers in front of him, Race mutters under his breath. It's just loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. "Yeah, the scripts that actually get award nominations."
Chapter goes to say something, but stops, his expression settling into a small frown. I look to him and Race, remembering a time when they were close friends.
But that was back when Foster was here.
Till glances at Race with disappointment before turning back to Chapter, straining to continue a casual conversation. "Um, are you all finished filming then?"
"Just a couple weeks of filming out here in Eldae," he says. "But for the most part, yeah, it's finished."
"That's good."
Beside me, Cartney tries to add something else, but I elbow him sternly before he can say anything. He rubs his arm, giving me a look. "What?"
"Unnecessary," I murmur.
"Talking is unnecessary?"
"Yes."
"Well, why?"
But then he notices me nodding toward the other members, and his face changes. A grin spreads across his face, which can never be good when Kaytee and Race are involved. I barely have a moment to brace myself for the worst before he speaks.
"Oh, them? The . . . Hey Ray, what were those magazines we had on the plane calling them again? The worst thing to happen last year, Foster's death included?"
I cringe. "Cartney. Stop that."
"C'mon. Being hated isn't as bad as they think."
To my surprise, Kaytee turns around to face Cartney. He's surprised as wellââI watch as his smile fades away instantaneously.
It's no secret that Cartney Kirk still loves her. He always has, even before he found out about Race. To this day we still listen to her songs on our daily publicized walksââsongs he used to think she wrote for him.
Kaytee speaks slowly, clearly. She wouldn't even have to for her words to be heard; she always has Cartney's full attention. "It's really easy for you to say something like that when everyone seems to relentlessly love you."
If Cartney really wanted to redeem himself to Kaytee, he'd just apologize here. Say sorry for crossing the line, excuse himself from the room.
But he also once told me that he has a flair for self-sabotage.
"You included, right?"
Kaytee exhales sharply. "You are so narcissistic."
She gets up and walks out of the room, shaking her head with disgust as she goes. Race reaches out to her, but she moves right past him.
"You're getting a real kick out of this, aren't you?" Race snaps.
Cartney's smile widens. "I am, thanks."
Race looks over to me angrily, rising from his own chair. "Please don't bring him around here anymore. It's just rude."
He leaves the room. In the silence that follows, Till excuses herself too, murmuring something about having to read a movie script. Chapter follows shortly after, giving my hand a quick squeeze before he sets off toward the staircase. As he goes, I spin around to face Cartney, who has already walked back into the mudroom to find his jacket.
"I'm guessing I won't be staying anymore," he says flatly. "Mr. Everything-Is-Wrong-In-My-Life doesn't want me around."
I feel my face flush. "Why did you have to do that?" I ask. It takes everything in me not to yell at him. "Why couldn't you just be quiet for once?"
"You know I couldn't."
"Yes, you could have. Or you could've at least been a little more considerate."
"No, I couldn't."
My hands ball up into fists. "It is completely in your power to be a decent person, Cartney, but you just had to be a jerk like always."
Cartney looks away from me, his eyes falling on the wall of various coats hung up for the Famoux members to choose from. He seems to be fixed in particular to the empty area for Foster, and he stares at it for a long time before saying anything else. My heart drops just glancing over at it; I stare at the floor instead.
"No, I couldn't," he tells me. "I have to be a jerk to them."
"Why?"
"Because the whole world thinks they're villains right now. They think Kaytee is a villain." He zips up his jacket, making eye contact with me. "If she has a villain of her own, then there's at least one part of her day where she feels like a good person."
With that, Cartney leans in and kisses my cheek, telling me he'll see me tomorrow for our walk. He leaves me standing there, staring at the empty space for Foster's coats, wondering about the villains in my own life and what they might think of me.
xxx
Tell me your thoughts!
I hope you're excited about the changes that are coming up. I'm definitely going to post this Sunday for a mini FamouXMas...it's not going to be as massive and extravagant as last year but it will definitely have some surprises. I'M EXCITED ABOUT IT.
I'm also using lots of GIFs again. To no one's surprise.
I hope you have an amazing Friday, Wattpad. Please never forget how much I love and value you. You make my life so meaningful.
Sticks and Stones may break your bones, but haters make you famoux. Stay classy, stay classix.