Life's been hectic, and I'm here now. I love you. I'll update again soon.
EMERAY
"You have to answer me."
My breathing, quick as it already is, accelerates more. Pressed back against the wall directly opposite the door, I stay as silent as I can muster. But no matter how quiet I am, Norax Geddes is unrelenting.
"Lumerpa, please. I heard you come in late last night, so I know you're in there. Just let me see you."
"I don'tââI don't feel good," I call out.
"I'm not accepting that excuse anymore, Emeray."
It's been two days since the meeting that made Carstan van Horne a Famoux member, and I've done everything in my power to stay away from him. Since I presume the two have been glued to the hip, that means staying away from Norax as well. Just hearing her voice ringing through my room feels like inviting some kind of horrible ghost.
I spent the first day after Carstan's arrival curled up in my bed, feigning immobility. My meals were brought to me by Gerald, who let me know more than once that I really owed him for coming up with excusesââenough to keep me in my room all day. After all, the whole sickness excuse went out the window the night before.
"I ran into Norax and had to tell her that you've been journalling all day long" he said while handing me my dinner. "Just so when she asks, you know."
"Journalling, huh?"
"Would you prefer if I told them you'd been curiously pacing around your room all day, muttering things to yourself? Journalling was the first thing I could think of."
"Thank you for thinking of something. Anything beats going downstairs."
He gave me a teasing look. "Perish the thought that Emeray makes new friends who aren't her fake boyfriend or her bodyguard."
"I have more friends than that."
"Yeah, sure. Go eat your food."
To save Gerald the pain of standing outside my door for hours on end, I suggested we leave the Metropolix on the second day. Since the idea of getting through the hallway, staircase, and kitchen without being noticed by anyone seemed next to impossible, we got up early enough that no one else seems to be awake yet.
"This is such a production, Miss Essence," Gerald mumbled to me in the car. He pointed to the horizon between two buildings, where an orange sun was barely peeking out to meet us. "You must really hate this new guy to be going to meet Cartney before sunrise."
"Trust me," I said. "Cartney is a beam of light in comparison to him."
"You're pretty strong in your first impressions, huh?"
As much as I wanted to tell him about everything Carstan has done to me, this wouldn't be the time or place to. Instead of replying, I glanced around the car, attempting to make him aware again of the cameras and mics embedded in plain sight. He understood.
Cartney was understandably confused to find Gerald and I at his door so early. While rubbing his eyes he gestured to the street behind us, telling me something about how if the paparazzi isn't awake yet, he isn't awake yet. I offered to let him sleep a little longer, but he was already turning on the coffee maker before I stepped into the apartment.
Over several cups, I explained the situation fullyââwhy I was there so early, what I was avoiding. He had a lot of questions, and even more reactions. The amount of gasps that ensued when I mentioned Carstan's relation to Norax were innumerable.
"Does she know?"
I shrugged.
His jaw dropped. "You mean to tell me that you haven't asked Norax whether or not she's aware her son used to torture you?"
I winced at his words. They'd been floating around my head for hours, but in avoiding the situation I'd been able to somewhat attach myself from it all. Hearing Cartney actually say them made everything feel real again.
"Well, I've been avoiding both of them since the first meeting," I said. "Why else would I be in your apartment at this hour?"
"I thought it was maybe because you loved me or something, and I was going to have to let you down easy." He shook his head, setting his mug on the table beside him. "But Ray, unless you're planning on moving in with me, you're going to run into them sometime. You need to straighten it all out."
"Sure, but can't I straighten it out another day?"
When the pot of coffee had been emptied, we decided it was an appropriate hour to go to outside. He had me help him pick out what to wear ("Black shirt or black shirt?") while we mapped out the day's events. If I was going to stay away from Norax, we'd have to go places where she couldn't have guards waiting to escort me back to the Metropolixââplaces where she wouldn't be expecting us. That meant avoiding all the stops on our usual walking routine, includingââmuch to my chagrinââWes Tegg's.
Breakfast was at a cafe that specialized in creating only blue foods, which was highly recommended by Cartney. After a very color-processed meal, we decided to visit an art museum, but it got so quickly packed that we were asked to leave before we'd made it through the first floor. For the rest of the afternoon, the paparazzi had a fun time following us around as we journeyed through Colburn's fashion district. In every store we entered, we vowed to purchase the oddest item we could find.
As enjoyable as the day turned out to be, I couldn't shake my fear of returning to the Metropolix later that night. Everything we did had a layer of trepidation beneath it, so thin I felt it could break at any moment. We ended up staying out late enough that Gerald and I could creep back in after everyone was asleep.
And that leads me back to now, pressed into the curtains by my bed, hoping Norax will eventually give up and let me hide for another day. But considering how there's no sunrise in the window beside me, she seems to be more than willing to wait all day for me to come out. My prospects aren't looking too good.
"I hope you're aware that I'm holding a key to your room right now," Norax tells me. "I am choosing to not enter your room by force because I respect you."
Though the thought that maybe she has Carstan with her out there has my hands shaking, I manage to roll my eyes. She respects me? Really?
"Oh wow," I say flatly. "Thanks."
Her voice is noticeably less soft. "Your sarcasm is very unappreciated here, lumerpa. Please just let me in."
Somehow, her anger makes me feel a little stronger. This way, I know I'm doing something against her controlââthat I have power over it. My muscles relax in slight, and I'm able to step away from the curtains.
"I'm tired," I call out. "You woke me up with your knocking."
"I did that to assure I wouldn't miss you before you snuck out again! You were gone for the entire day!"
"When have you ever been opposed to Cartney and I spending more time with the paparazzi?"
"That's not my point, Emeray," she says. "Something is obviously bothering you here, and I want to figure it out so we can move past this. But we can't move past it on two different sides of this door."
"We could definitely try it."
"That's it."
The door makes a clicking noise. I scurry to a couch, occupying myself with the first book I can find. My eyes scan through a random page of The Bell Jar as the clacking of Norax's heels gets closer and closer, stopping right in front of me.
"So much for respect," I say beneath my breath.
She catches it. "You haven't been too respectful yourself."
She waits for me to respond. When I don't, she cuts to the chase: "Emeray, can you please tell me why you've been avoiding the rest of the Famoux?"
My nerves accelerate at the thought of answering her question. I know I should listen to what Cartney said and confront her, butââbut confrontation seems so much easier when I'm picturing it all in my head. Be it Emilee or Emeray, I'm more flight than fight.
"Hello?"
Struggling to keep my outer equilibrium, I focus on the page ahead of me, taking in the words like I'm studying for a huge test.
After a while, Norax sighs. In my peripheral view I see her sit in one of the armchairs near me. It takes everything within me not to squirm to the other side of the couch.
"We're going to the Fissarex today," she tells me.
I turn a page. "Have fun."
"You're coming with us."
"I'm not feeling well."
"We both know that's a lie."
"How are you so sure?"
Leaning forward, Norax snatches The Bell Jar from me. As I turn toward her with outrage, she puts a hand on my forehead.
"Absolutely no fever," she reports. "Just like I thought. You're coming to the Fissarex with us today."
While a part of me wants to lash out at her, another part of me wants to burst into tears. Since they're both too childish for her to take me seriously, I fight the two instincts off, faking as much composure as I can.
"You can't just force me to go," I say.
"I would hope that I wouldn't have to force you to go," she says. "Carstan is willingly stepping into this machine, lumerpa. He is changing himself like all of you did to show you that he respects you."
"None of us asked him to do that."
"I don't prefer when you're being stubborn, lumerpa."
"I'm just asking you why you need me to be there so badly," I say. "Why do any of us have to?"
Norax gives me a look. "It is an important event."
"No one was there when I went into the Fissarex."
"That was a very different instance."
"How different, though? A Famoux member dies on air during the Darkening, and then you pluck somebody out of the sameââ"
Some part of me, perhaps the Emilee part, screeches STOP! I falter for barely a second, kicking myself within it for being too scared to continue, to confront. A lie is thought up on the spot instead.
"ââout of similar obscurity, I mean. Anyway, it's not a different instance. I think it'd be better to go to the Fissarex alone instead of with an audience."
Norax regards my statement with an iciness I can feel. Her eyes send chills down my arms, down my back.
"The fact that you perceive your fellow Famoux members to be an audience is the exact reason why my son is even here to make changes," she tells me. "We are not each other's spectatorsââwe are each other's supporters."
"You're making something out of nothing right now," I say. "You know I meant nothing when I said audience. Why are youââ"
"This only reiterates my point of how we all need to be present for today's events," she continues, speaking right over me. "It's a long drive to the Fissarex, so I need you to be ready in around an hour. Wear something nice."
She waits for me to say something moreââto protest, to yell. I do nothing. After what feels like a million years of eye contact, she finally gets up and leaves.
When she closes the door behind her, I accept my fate.
xxx
I'll be back soon. I'm so so so so so so so sorry for missing updates.
Sticks and Stones may break your bones, but haters make you famoux. Stay classy, stay classix.