HAPPY FAMOUX FRIDAY!
It's 1AM as I write this to you! I have to get up at 5AM for a flight! I'm too excited about working on chapter four to think about sleep right now!! WOO!!!
If I get a good version of chapter four reworked/edited/ready within the 4 hours between now and 5, I might post that on Saturday for a special Famoux Saturday. But no promises. I'm getting a bit delirious at this point so sleep might just happen to me at any given moment while composing this post.
I just wanna thank you for showing up like you have on Fridays. Last week chapter two got 100 comments in under 10 minutes. Are you kidding?!? I nearly cried with gratitude!! That is just...I am so happy that you are here, reading this book. Comment your own book, your own art, anything, please, so I can appreciate you as much as you deserve to be appreciated.
Now, let's get into it...
PREVIOUSLY ON THE CLASSIX (AND THE FAMOUX): Emeray got a threatening message from DEFED that says that they want to "free her" from her "cage"...whatever that could mean. She decided NOT to tell Norax about it, because their relationship is hella awkward now that Emeray is woke and has realized that Norax is very much focused on their images. Also, Emeray and Cartney are in their dating contract, obviously. You should also remember that Foster died. Lol. Also remember Wes Tegg's? Because WE'RE COMING BACK!
Without further ado, here we go:
emeray
As we parade down Colburn's city streets, Cartney swings our heavily-gloved hands like a child on the way to school. The song in our headphones is catchyââsomething soft and slightly chilling by Kaytee that's become one of our staples.
While in the beginning of our contract, I found it odd that Cartney insisted we listen to Kaytee's music, I've slowly begun to understand why we do: It makes her feel closer again, even when she's ignoring the both of us. With everything that's happened these past few months, listening to Kaytee's songs with Cartney has become the primary way I get to hear her voice nowadays.
I listen to the lyrics as they slip by:
Don't know why I bother,
'Cause I know you're so much farther . . .
I let the words sink in, feeling a sense of sadness. Kaytee might've apologized to me for being distant before we entered the Fishbowl, but only because she was nearly positive she'd never make it out alive. Alas, the moment our feet took their first steps out of the glass house, the apology was revoked. And the more Cartney's and my relationship continues to flourish, the less she wants to be around me.
Cartney tells me I can't be surprised by any of this. When I told him my woes at dinner last night, he told me, "Imagine if the roles were reversed, and instead of Kaytee and Calcium, it was you and Chapter who got revealed to the public. Imagine if your boss had Kaytee start dating your fake boyfriend Marlonââ"
"I was never dating Marlon," I interjected. "Or fake-dating him."
He rolled his eyes. "Let's say for argument's sake, you were, and everybody loved it. And then, out of the blue, Norax had them sign a contract, and suddenly Kaytee was living the secure life you once had. And to make matters worse, everybody loves Kaytee and Marlon a million times more than they ever loved him and you! Would you want to be around her?"
I've been mulling that question over all night last night and all morning today. As of right now on this afternoon walk, as I listen to Kaytee sing about love forlorn, my answer is yes. Yes, I would still want to be around her. I mean, she's my friend. I barely ever knew what a friend was one before her. It's a rarity. And it's gone.
The song's drums kick in with my frustration:
My mind is at a red light wondering . . .
As the chorus plays out, Cartney and I turn the corner onto Eighth Street and are greeted by a gaggle of cameramen. These walks have absolutely no trouble becoming photo shoots. No matter how cold it is, or how brutal the snow gets, there is always a new picture of Cartney and I in the next magazine.
The paparazzi walk backward on icy sidewalk so they can face us as they snap away, capturing frame after frame of fake admiration. Cartney looks to me and grins.
"My, my," he says. "It's good to be home."
Bulbs flicker off with calculated clatter. For a moment, DEFED's golden note flashes before my eyes, and I flinch, instinctively burrowing myself in toward Cartney. While he's surprised by my sudden closeness, he's also a professional, and masks it quickly. He lets go of my hand, wrapping his arm around my shoulders without so much as a moment's hesitation. The cameras love it so much, I can barely see over the flares of light.
"All right," Gerald calls out. He pushes the cameramen back to give us space. "Let's keep it moving, people. You got your shot."
As we walk on, a mixture of rain and snow embellishes my coat, a new black one that once belonged to Chapter. Despite Norax's disapproval, there's no real risk to wearing itââany paparazzi or passerby out here will assume it's Cartney's without a second thought. Paired with the glistering faux-leather pants I found in my closet, and the moto jacket Cartney wears to boot, we look like a pair of dark little onyxes with bright blonde hair.
Although it's not the best to withstand the winter cold, Cartney's jacket has become somewhat of his signature in the last two months. Once we'd established that my wardrobe had made a swift turn from burgundy overcoats and brown ankle boots to darker, more harsher tones, gone were his own coats of tweed and blue. In were the sneakers and the beanies and the black fingerless gloves.
I never asked him to do any of that for me. I made that clear to him the first time I saw him wearing the new getup in full. He'd been standing outside the Metropolix on a milder afternoon, grinning wide and childish with a single lily in his hands. The paparazzi was already there, just like they always were, waiting with their cameras poised for me to come out and begin our daily walk.
"You didn't have to buy that," I'd told him, gesturing to the jacket.
"Is that really how you greet your boyfriend, Ray?"
"Was it Buchan's idea?"
"Please, I like it," he insisted. "Buchan doesn't do all my thinking for me. Plus, I noticed I've been looking like an absolute goober wearing my lame trench coats around you lately. People were beginning to notice that you looked cooler. Now, we're even."
With that, he held out the lily for me to take. Cameras popped like pins as I reached out for it. A picture with our hands in close proximity sells for thousands above a picture of us standing near each other.
"No roses at the store?" I asked.
"There were, but this one's a mourning flower."
My mouth dropped, but Cartney didn't seem phased. His eyes swirled with a sort of sentiment, an understanding. He bent down to whisper in my ear. I could only imagine how much of a kick the paparazzi got out of that.
"I get the clothes," he said, voice low. "Chapter told me you and Foster were good friends, that you were planning that photoshoot of yours. If you can listen to Kaytee's songs on repeat for me, I can wear this jacket for you."
"Chapter told you that?"
He shrugged. "If not friends, we are perfect allies."
The list of nice things Cartney Kirk has done for me is a short one, but it doesn't diminish how much those nice things mean.
So now, black clothes have become our signature. I don't mind itââI never got that punk photo shoot with Foster, the one he always wanted. It's nice to have one happen everyday, in all these walks with Cartney.
By now, the weather has taken its toll on the poor thing. It might be durable, but it definitely wasn't built to outlast the sort of snow Colburn gets. From the corner of my eye, I peer at the faux leather: What was once glossy and dark has been gnarled to a faded grey. I believe I almost like it better this way.
Cartney catches me looking. "Aw, Ray, are you admiring your boyfriend?"
I can't help but blush. "Oh, shut it."
When we reach Wes Tegg's, a crowd is already formed at the entrance. According to every teen tabloid in Delicatum, if you want to meet Emeray Essence, you should wait for hours upon hours outside of Wes Tegg's, because she "loves a vanilla latte almost as much as she loves Cartney Kirk."
But it's not trueââI've never had a vanilla latte in my life. In actuality, I love a regular cup of coffee almost as much as I love Chapter Stones.
Another thing people simply don't know about me.
Upon our arrival, a dozen phones from the patrons inside have been angled in our direction. In the back of the room at a bistro table, a group of girls still in their school uniforms yelp, scrambling out of their seats.
Noticing them, Gerald looks to me. "Would you like me to get your coffee while you meet people?"
I go to answer, but Cartney interjects before I can get a word in. He puts his hand out, stepping right in front of Gerald.
"I've got this one covered, buddy," he says. "You just stand by the door and look pretty, all right?"
I give Gerald an apologetic look re Cartney. He smiles, shakes his head.
"Don't be too long," he tells us. "Norax wants Emeray back for family dinner."
My jaw drops instantly. I can't even begin to hold in my shock in front of this Wes Tegg's crowd. "Family what?"
Gerald refers to the screen of his watch, reading aloud. "All Famoux members MUST be present for family dinner at eight."
My mind swirls around what this means. Me, Chapter, Kaytee, Race, and Till in the same room again. But what for? It's hard to believe that Norax is simply orchestrating this to give us all some time to reconnect. No, there has to be something she wants us all to hear at once. Just the thought of it makes me dizzy.
"I thought we were getting dinner tonight," Cartney tells me. "What am I supposed to do with that reservation for Sable? Have a swanky candlelit meal alone?"
"You're still having dinner with Emeray," Gerald says. "Just not at Sable. It says here that the only nonFamoux member permitted to attend is Cartney Kirk."
On a dime, Cartney's playfulness vanishes. "Wait, so everybody is gonna be there? All the other members?"
"That's correct, buddy."
Cartney looks to me, eyes brimming with helplessness. I cough, discreetly gesturing at the phones pointed at us. He understands, instantaneously regaining his composure.
He claps his hands together. "Sounds like a super fun meal. In the meantime, let's get us some caffeine to prepare, shall we?" He points to me. "Vanilla latte, right?"
"I don't want the latte," I tell him.
"Of course you want the vanilla latte. It's our favorite latte."
"It's your favorite, not mineââ"
As we go on, a woman in line leans toward her friend like she's telling her a secret. I hear her loud and clear anyway. "Their banter is absolutely adorable!"
"I know! It's like being in love with your best friend."
Cartney shoots me a look of triumph. "Ray, tell me, have I not told you lately that you're my best friend? Because you are."
The women put their hands to their chests, as if feeling their hearts skip a beat. I shake my head at him, my smirk small and coy. We paint the picture of an outgoing, slightly foolish boy and his reserved, sensitive girlfriend. A masterful pairing of archetypes. Very few people can resist it when they see it unfold before their eyes.
As I meet and take pictures with patrons, Cartney loudly asks Brit to fix us two vanilla lattes. At least four tweens sigh lovingly together as he dramatically gets down on one knee to hand me my cup.
"You drink, my dear," he proposes.
"Unnecessary," I hiss though the teeth forming my smile.
"Given the dinner we're about to attend? Hardly."
xxx
THERE IT IS TELL ME YOUR THOUGHTS!
What do you think is gonna happen at this dinner? If you've already read the other two versions, you know that the events of the member meetings were different in both. Currently I'm trying to do a fusion. A more refined version of the two. Let's hope it all goes well.
On this note, WE'RE FINALLY GONNA HEAR FROM THE OTHER MEMBERS AGAIN! NEXT CHAPTER! Have you missed them? Emeray has too! Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and you will be reunited with them soon.
I didn't add any new characters in today's chapter, but I was looking at my plans and realized that I need a LOT of names very soon. So that being said, please comment your name if you haven't already! Or, comment if you already have, and you just wanna remind me that you really wanna be in it! I can't wait to add you!!!
How was your week? Mine was busy!!! I'm eager to get some sleep on the plane. Or have a few uninterrupted hours to watch some Arrested Development. Perhaps the tumultuous Bluth family can inspire me to add whacky drama to our Famoux Family.
I hope you have a wonderful weekend, Wattpad!! Remember:
Sticks and Stones may break your bones, but haters make you famoux. Stay classy, stay classix.