HAPPY FAMOUX FRIDAY! You have so many other things you could be doing with this time on this lovely Friday, and yet you're here, and that just warms my entire heart!
We have two new characters today! Is it gonna be you?!?!
In old drafts, these people had different names, different descriptions, and different actions. One of these characters used to be christinolan, who deleted her account, and I unfortunately can't find her anymore. The other, sonia741, still has an account, but it appear she hasn't been on Wattpad in a long while. I haven't been able to find them to figure out if they're still here.
When I make someone a character, it is because I see them commenting frequently, and they have become a comforting presence in my life, and I want to show them that I appreciate them by letting them be a part of this massive conglomerate of a story. Sonia and Christin were wonderful, wonderful people, and I thank them for bearing with me in those drafts.
It makes me very sad to not know where they've gone off to, but I am thankful for everyone who is here right now today, and I want to do our two new characters (psst TheMrSNakeBite and saffahadi422 ) right by letting them know that I did NOT just switch out some names and stuff you guys into this chapter randomly! You are unique to this story and you will be recurring! We will see a lot of you both in this book!!!!
Now, let's begin, shall we?
PREVIOUSLY ON THE CLASSIX: Carstan is here, and he wants our Scooby Doo gang to train the next generation of Famoux members. What ever will happen now?!?
emeray
Everyone is taken back in individual black cars, so for the drive back it's just Cartney and I, since we're a presumed unit. And while there is much that Cartney wants to talk about on the drive home, we re given no chances to. Gerald prohibits us from saying absolutely anything. As the new sentry provisions he mentioned decree, that kind of celebrity-to-guard sharing isn't allowed anymore, and the penalties for breaking the rules are strict. Even when Cartney tries many, many times to to talk about it, to figure out what happened and why I'm so especially shaken, Gerald firmly stops him before he can get even two words out.
"You know you can't talk about this," he warns. "Not while I'm here."
"But they'll probably tell you all about it the moment you get back, man!" Cartney says. "We could give you the heads up!"
"They'll let me know what I need to know, and that's it."
Cartney gestures to my frozen stature, my despondent face. "Look at her. She's dying to discuss this dinner."
He must assume I'm only rattled by the idea of these new membersââof staring my own replacement in the face and teaching them the lay of the land. And while that's very well true, it's not the only thing that's making my stomach churn with every bump on the cobblestone roads beneath us. Cartney doesn't know about Carstan. About the past.
The worst part is, I don't know what Carstan knows about the past either. It is the source and summit of the panic bubbling beneath my skin. Ever since we left the Ashes en route to the Metropolix, my thoughts have been a war zone, split between two ideas: Maybe Carstan has only been told about the Fissarex's existence and nothing else, like how I was when I joined. Or maybe he's been told exactly who we are and who we used to be, and there's no more secret to Emeray Essence.
He might know. He might not.
Either way, the panic won't subside.
As I internally ruminate, Cartney again bickers with Gerald.
"They told me everything, and I'm not even a Famoux member!" Cartney exclaims. "You've seen the newsstands! You're 'Emeray's secret lover!' This is information you are more than privy to!"
Gerald tries to hide his smirk, staying firm. "I can't break the new protocol, Cartney. No matter what the world thinks of me."
Cartney grabs the file of potential new members from my hands and waves it in front of . "You don't even slightly want to see what's in this?"
"Can't break that protocol."
"So you're really gonna make us sit in silence like this?!"
At that, Gerald presses a button on the small sleek control panel next to his seat. Music from the radio instantly pours from the speakers around us. And not just any musicââit's "Seashore," the single Cartney, Kaytee, and I released before everything fell apart.
Cartney instantly glowers. "On second thought? actually take silence."
"Let's just enjoy the song," Gerald says, turning it up. To my blank face, he offers a small, knowing smile. As he glances around the car's ceiling, his voice drops swiftly to a murmur. If I wasn't paying attention, I might not have even heard it over the radio. "It shames me to say this, but these cars aren't the best places for sharing anymore."
My blood, cold as it is, goes even colder.
Cartney learns forward, interested. "You don't mean . . . Microphones?"
Gerald nods discreetly.
"And cameras too?"
Another nod.
Turning back to my window, my erratic thoughts return in waves, rippling over one another like a brewing tsunami.
Carstan's return.
My note from DEFED.
Dalton's steady disappearance.
The Darkening being long overdue.
And now . . . Now I know that I am always being watched, even in this car, for whatever purpose that's supposed to serve Norax.
In a few left and right turns, the empty outskirts of the Ashes become Colburn all over againââlively as ever. I've never been so relieved and glad to see it: The people pushing past one another in clusters, the promise of things starting and stopping with the traffic lights. Our car slows with the flow of the other vehicles, coming to a stop next to two kids on the adjacent sidewalk. My eyes hone in on them immediately.
They have to be around twelve or thirteen, maybe younger. They've gathered together in a small dual huddle, turned toward one other with bright eyes and toothy grins. From my view I glimpse a great big, encircled Xââour insigniaââprinted one girl's t-shirt, and another embroidered on her friend's backpack.
The irony of the sight makes me smile. There they areââfans of the Famoux, unaware that I'm in the car beside them. Feeling my spirits lighten just at the thought of it, I turn to Gerald and say my first words since entering this car.
"Could I can roll down the window and say hello?"
"Oh," he starts. "You know, it's crowded, and it's pretty late alreadyââ"
But as he speaks, I'm already pressing the button to bring the window down. When I glance back at him, he offers a shrug, permitting me to carry on. After all, there's no rule against me taking time out of my day to meet fans. If anything, it's highly encouraged.
For a moment the two fans are so wrapped up in their conversation that they don't notice me. I lean my head out the window and listen, catching a fragment about none other than Chapter and I being on a movie set.
I can't contain my grin. Of course, they're talking about the Famoux.
". . . but those pictures showed them in really elegant clothes," the one with the Famoux backpack comments. "I think it's going to be a dramatic movie."
"But there are only three pictures," the other rebuttals. "Who's to say what the other costumes are going to be like?"
"Well, who's to say there's going to be more than one costume?"
"It's a feature film, Kai. You really think they're only going to be wearing one costume the whole time?"
"I mean, maybeââ"
"You know, I can confirm that for you," I cut in.
When they look in my direction, their eyes change in an instantââat first confused, a little on the defense, and then, at once, surprise. The girl in the Famoux shirtââKaiâânearly falls to her knees on the sidewalk.
It takes barely a minute before we're once more moving down the street toward the Metropolix, but that brief time between then and now is a blur of squealing, crying, picture-taking, and plenty hugs when I quickly hop out of the car. I learn their names, Saffa and Kai, as well as how much I've apparently impacted their lives, just in existing and choosing to do so in the public eye.
"I read your X everyday," says Saffa. "The letters the other members wrote for you . . . they just bring me to tears! You're truly a wonderful person."
"You've helped us with so much," Kai adds on. When I glance to her, she's wiping away a tear. "I know you probably get that all the time, but you really, really have."
At this point, forty seconds have gone by. A small crowd is already forming around the three of us, their devices poised in the air like unofficial paparazzi. It's right here and now that it occurs to me how usual this has all gotten. When smiling and posing for a picture becomes a daily part of the job, it's easy to start taking it for granted, and the truth is, I got used to it like one gets used to going to a class or driving a new vehicle.
But somehow, within those forty seconds out of the car, my chest fills with an indescribable feeling. For the time that I'm with this crowd, none of the bad things about today exist anymore. No Carstan, no threats, no nothing. It's just me, this group, and the innocence and delight surrounding this moment right here.
"Emeray, I hate to break this up, but the light is green."
I turn to Gerald, my cheerier mood faltering. "One moment."
"Be quick. The people will wait for a Famoux member, but not for long."
I say my goodbyes and retreat to the car, climbing back into my seat. Just be we move through the intersection, someone calls out from the crowd.
"You have no idea how much you mean to us!"
I can't find the voice's source, so I smile at the whole group. "And you, really, truly have no idea how much you mean to me."
When I roll up the window, Cartney is giving me a funny look.
"What?" I ask.
"You can't help yourself, can you?"
I cross my arms over my chest. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It's nothing bad." He smiles, shakes his head. "It's just sweet, that's all."
"What is?"
"You really try your best to connect with all of them."
I don't know what to say. This isn't the first time Cartney has given me somewhat of a compliment regarding how I interact with our fans. Any sincerity from him that isn't laced with a witty retort renders me totally thrown off. I spin the conversation towards him.
"You could've come out there and said hello too, you know," I say. "I'm sure it would've really made their day."
"We were at a stoplight, Ray. We couldn't cause that much chaos."
The high from this entire interaction is short-lived; coming toward the Metropolix, I'm suddenly reminded of everything I'm about to face when I walk in. The other members. Norax. Him. It doesn't take long for the light feeling in my heart to sink all over again.
As we push through traffic toward the building, Cartney looks to Gerald. "When we get there, am I allowed to come in, or is there a secret Famoux Member Dessert post-dinner that I'm not invited to?"
Gerald looks to one of his devices at a schedule. "No dessert, but Norax did inform me that Buchan has you scheduled for more recording tonightââI believe you need to do some more background vocals for your song 'Emeray.'"
My jaw drops. "You're making a song called what?"
"Oh, so she'll tell you that in so much detail?" Cartney gapes. "I thought guards weren't supposed to know secrets they could leak!"
"We're not. This, unlike the other things, is something they do want to be leaked. Adds more excitement for the release next week."
I look to Cartney. "You're releasing this song next week?"
"At your birthday party," Gerald says.
"That was all supposed to be a surprise." Cartney gives Gerald a mock salute. "Thank you so much for filling Emeray in."
I want to ask more about the song, but the car comes to a stop. Cartney begrudgingly promises to show it to me after our next walk.
Even after a mostly pleasant car ride back, my nerves are as unsettled as ever as Gerald escorts me inside. I find myself wishing I'd asked to attend Cartney's recording session, or to do something time consuming, like shopping. Most of the stores are closing up at this hour, but it wouldn't be an issue. They'd open right back up for a Famoux member.
But now that I'm inside the Metropolix, it's far too late. From the mudroom I can see Till and Race standing in the kitchen, and just beyond my eyeshot I can hear as Norax implores Kaytee to come into the study for a cup of coffee, that Carstan would love to start getting to know everyone and going over our files. My pulse rises instantly.
I look to Gerald. Before I can say anything, he nods, as knowing as ever.
"I'll tell them you're tired," he says. "Take the east wing staircase to your room and you won't run into them."
I thank him just about a hundred times over before scurrying up to my room as quick as I possibly can. Even in the privacy of my room, I still can't breathe easy. After months of being comforted by the fact that while I was here in Betnedoor, he was all the way in Eldae, Carstan is in my proximity at any given moment. Even worse, he's showing no signs of leaving my proximity any time soon.
I rake a hand through my hair, moving to the bathroom. As I wash my face and prepare to call it a night, three different Metropolix employees stop by my door to ask me if I'll be making an appearance in the study to get coffee. The first two are maids who, as I expected sheepishly retreat at my first refusal. That's why it doesn't surprise me when I find the final visitor dressed in the same slacks and collared shirt from Gerald's usual attire. A guard. Norax has actually reverted to using force to get me downstairs.
Despite this, I give each of them the same performance: a weak expression accompanied by, "I'm afraid I'm not feeling well."
The guard, of course, takes my excuse with a grain of salt. "Norax wanted me to express how imperative it is to make sure your new advisor feels welcomed, and thus all the members should be present."
"I wouldn't want to dampen the occasion with my sickness," I say.
He narrows his eyes. "Miss Essence, I'm well aware of how Famoux members, on a whole, don't get sick. Unless you're feeling immense, inside-erupting extremes here, I doubt you're actually as ill as you claim."
"What if I actually am feeling immense, inside-erupting extremes?"
"Then you'd be dead already." The guard adjusts his posture, growing taller and more authoritative. "Norax needs you downstairs, so you need to go downstairs."
"Please her I'm too sick to go," I say.
I shut the door in his face before he can say anything else. As I pick out a pair of pajamas and change into them, I can hear through the door as the guard bickers with Gerald, imploring him to do something about the situation.
"Miss Essence told you herself that she is tired," Gerald says calmly, diplomatically. "She doesn't want to go down there tonight."
"Norax will have my head on a platter if I don't return with her."
"She will be far angrier if you forcefully pull a Famoux member from her chambers. Relay the information. There will be other nights for coffee in the study."
The guard grumbles, but finally leaves.
Feeling confident that there won't be any more people at the door tonight, I grab a few things I want to look at and crawl into my bed. I curl up among the sea of different pillows, seeking comfort. My heart has yet to stop beating out of its chest, and I want to settle it before I dive into the things I've brought with meââthe file of new member options, the gin labels, the new note from DEFED. If I proceed with the same level of uneasiness in my bloodstream right now, I may never be able to get to sleep.
But just as my try centering and slowing my breathing, there's another knock! that launches it right back to its panicked default. Before I can so much as call out to see who's there, the knob twists. I scramble to conceal the materials sprawled out on my duvet as the door opens, Gerald poking his head in.
"So sorry to bother you," he says, "but someone wants to see you."
"Is it Chapter?"
It's a futile hope. Only rarely has Chapter ever been able to momentarily break the contractual rules that forbid him from coming around this part of the apartment, and those few times have only been when everyone is gone. With an even fuller house than usual, it would be next to impossible to pull off. When Gerald gives me an apologetic look, thus confirming the impossibility, my shoulders slump.
"Who is it?" I ask.
"Till Amaris."
xxx
What will Till have to say?!?!?! Tell me your thoughts on today's chapter!!!
Since not too much happened, I'll start preparing for a potential Famoux Sunday update again. It's difficult with these chapters, since there's so much I want to happen, but I know there needs to be as much time for reaction as there is for action. That's why these books are always so long: Because I pace everything so slowly. I apologize. We'll fix it in the next round of edits.
PLEASE comment your name for me! I wanna make you a character so badly! We're about to go off into parties and premieres and there are mountains of new characters who need your gorgeous names.
Also, remember to be following me on here. I always follow someone when they're about to be a character, and there have been a few times where I've made someone a character, posted about it, followed them, and later after a lackluster reaction seen that they don't follow me back, and then I start wondering whether or not they're actually invested. (Past drafts, of course. Y'all are real ones.)
Also, refresh your SO YOU WANT TO BE A CHARACTER profile if you haven't in a while! I want to make sure I've got the right info in my massive Potential Famoux Character database. I love keeping too many tabs on u.
I hope you have a wonderful weekend, Wattpad. What are your plans? I'm going to the Paul McCartney concert this weekend!! If you've been here for a while, you KNOW how I feel about the Beatles! I'M SO EXCITED!!!!!
See you maybe this Sunday? Sometime randomly during the week? Sounds good. Remember:
Sticks and Stones may break your bones, but haters make you famoux. Stay classy, stay classix.