HAPPY FAMOUX FRIDAY!
Posting this for you while I wait for my flight to New York! Wrote this for you while packing and watching old episodes of Friends and Breaking Bad!
First order of business: BY THE TIME YOU READ THIS I'LL HAVE PROBABLY POSTED A NEW STORY ON MY PROFILE CALLED FEAR, ROCKS, AND OTHER OBSERVATIONS!! Come on down and give it a look! It's gonna be, as the kids say, LIT.
Second order of business: Today's chapter is one of a FEW that will cover Emeray's birthday. *Sigh,* that's right, friends. Somehow this day couldn't be contained with a mere chapter, but instead MANY. Before we jump in, let me remind you that Emeray is turning.... Oh heck, what age is she turning?! As per the version The Famoux on Wattpad, I should be saying seventeen. In edits of book one, however, I've upped her initial age to eighteen. The twelve year old me who decided she'd be sixteen used to think that was old!!!! But now I'm like, most of these circumstances surrounding a sixteen year old girl? HELL NO!!!! That being said:
Here are the new Famoux ages! (And their signs, because I wanted to procrastinate, naturally.)
Emeray: 18 going on 19. And she's a Pisces, obviously.
Chapter: 21. As an Aries, he'll be turning 22 soon after Emeray's birthday.
Race: 22. He's an Aquarius, so he was 21 for all of book 1!
Kaytee: 20. She's a Libra, obviously.
Till: 21. She's a Virgo!
Foster (*sobbing*): 20. He *was* on the cusp of Cancer and Leo, because, well, obviously.
And for good measure, Cartney: Still 22, as he was before. He's just a full-on Leo tho.
Now that we've gotten this extremely long beginning out of the way, let's jump in!!!
PREVIOUSLY ON THE CLASSIX: Emeray's birthday is today! And Emeray's gonna have a full day. As per Carsatan's plans, Emeray, Chapter, and Cartney will be having a little media blitz lightning round of interviews before the big sprawling party tonight. Also, Emeray needs to choose the new member she wants to mentor STAT because their choices will be finalized the day after her birthday! OOO *drama* am I right? Do you think I could add mORE drama to this? Well, buckle up, baby! 'Cause we're adding drama!!!
emeray
It's as if the world has cosmically decided to celebrate my nineteenth with me. The sun is out without a cloud to block it. The purple and yellow violas in the greenhouse have reached their peak bloom. The forecast predicts a perfect day, with only the ghost of a chance that there might be rainfallââthe smallest chance we've seen in weeks.
Even so, with all this good, good news being brought to me on this gorgeous morning of March 8th, the Analytix has its special way of bringing me a ferocious hailstorm of bad news. At least, bad to me.
As I take tentative sips of my coffee, careful not to spit any out, I listen as an array of public reactions unfold before my ears.
Some call for celebration:
". . . NO FREAKING WAY! Do you think it's true? God, I hope it's true!"
". . . Good morning, Notness! We bring you a very delightful and unexpected report today on Notness News . . ."
". . . Look at the pictures!! Oh my god, it's true!!!!"
A good few call for skepticism:
". . . It's definitely not true. I mean, come on. Even they would have to see how much of a cash-grab that would look like . . ."
". . . Yeah, it's a jewelry store, folks. Everybody calm down!!"
". . . So, is this news true? Unfortunately, Betnedoor Gossip can't confirm or deny yet. We're just going to have to wait and see . . ."
And a good plenty call for frustration:
". . . What kind of an idea is that? How old is she even turning? Twelve? God, I really don't get them sometimes . . ."
". . . I've gotta say, this is one hell of a dive for public attention. It's like, chill out for at least one day of your lives . . ."
" . . . Do you think that means her birthday is going to be the Emeray and Cartney show now? I was excited to see the other members. Ugh . . ."
But I don't call for celebration.
And I don't call for skepticism.
And I don't even call for frustration.
All I call for are answers.
"What's going on?" I ask Norax, near flying off the stool and into the chair next to her. "Why are they . . . What's going . . . What are they all talking about?"
Norax looks just as bewildered as me. "It seems as though a series of photos dropped overnight."
"Of what?"
She hesitates, looking down at a pile of tabloids in her hands. I see my face on the front, and I lunge for it.
"Lumerpa, wait," say says. "I think we should talk aboutââ"
It nearly rips in the process, but I manage to wrangle it out of her grip. Settling down on the bolded headline, my jaw drops.
A BIRTHDAY ENGAGEMENT? CARTNEY KIRK SEEN BUYING A RING THE DAY BEFORE EMERAY'S PARTY!
I blink a thousand times over before I remember to speak. "Wait, what?"
The cover informs me that the exclusive photos are on page 18, so I flip to it. Sure enough, clear as day, there's a small but tremendous slideshow of Cartney perched over a display case, pointing fervently at the largest diamonds they offer.
I look up at Norax, feeling helpless. "You knew about this?"
"Of course not," she says. "This is news to me too."
I can't tell if I believe her, but she looks to shaken up that I choose not to outright accuse. Not yet, at least. "Are they allowed to force us to get married?"
"There's no rule in the contract that forces you to. The only way you'd have to get married is if a rule was added or if you chose to do so on your own account."
"But how . . . How could Buchan not tell you about this?"
Norax rakes in a sigh. "They have artists they need to promote in their own ways. In Cartney's case, this likely seemed like a good angleââthe best way to make a highly publicized day all about him."
"This just . . . It doesn't feel like something he'd do," I say.
"Why not?" she asks. "This is Cartney we're talking about. When have you ever seen Cartney care about anything other than himself?"
She points at the photos. I look down at them, feeling lightheaded. The captions tell me that the photos were taken in the late afternoon. Given the grey suit he's in, I can tell this was a pitstop before picking me up for dinnerââthere are even extra pictures of him making a second stop to pick up the lilies he gave me on the way.
My blood begins to simmer, to boil. It all looks more like a photoshoot than anything else. He knew the paparazzi was there. He did this on purpose.
Norax sends me off to my room to get ready, assuring me that she'll handle things with Buchan. Even so, I can't get my mind off the photographs. I'm compelled to ask Gerald if he has a phone I can borrow, and if he know's Cartney's number. Sure enough, one of the sleek grey devices he carries has such capabilities.
"Whoa, you never call me on the phone," Cartney says, voice coming in grainy. Bad reception. "I didn't know you even had a phone, to be honest. Do you have a phone?"
I pace the floor of my bedroom so quickly, I take barely two steps before I make a winding turn to go the other direction. It's dizzying, but centering. Better to feel the way the inside of my brain does at the moment than sit still and fidget. I'm so mad at him in this moment, I can barely see straight.
"Have you looked at a newspaper lately?" I ask. "Or watched the news? Do you know what's going on?"
"Please, one question at a time, my lover."
His tone is playful, which gets me even more vexed. How can he be so calm about everything? "I'm guessing you haven't done any of those things, have you?"
"Look, I just woke up." His yawn stretches through the phone. "What am I supposed to know about? That it's your birthday? Happy birthday."
"Were you seen buying a ring yesterday?"
"Was I what?"
"A ring. An engagement ring." Just saying the word engagement makes me want to scream. I hold it in as best I can. "Did you look for one?"
His stammer is stupendous. "What . . . I don't . . . How'd . . . What the hell kind of a question is that, Ray?"
"Is Buchan planning on having us get engaged tonight?"
"And what . . . What kind of a question is that?"
"How could you not tell me were you were yesterday? We had dinner last night and everything, and you just weren't telling me?"
"I wasn't buying you a ring!" he exclaims.
"Cartney, there are pictures," I say. "They're all over the news. You're in a jewelry store, and you're looking at a display of rings. Stop lying to me."
There's an air of silence over the phone as he hesitates. The static that fills the space between us is a palpable entity.
"Ray, come onââ"
I hang up, my face hot with anger. He's been lying. All this time of cultivating somewhat of a friendship, a mutual agreement between the two of us, and he's still pulling the wool over my eyes for the sake of higher powers. He's still allowing them to push us like chess pieces without my knowledge.
As I scan through the article, which includes a detailed description of our wedding plans as well as a list of potential gowns I'll wear to the ceremony, Norax peeks through the door and reminds me that I'll be leaving for my first interview of the day in twenty minutes. In other words, she is positively startled to find me still barefoot in my pajamas, curled up in my bed, hunched over a tabloid.
"I'll be doing damage control all day for this," she tells me, plucking it from my hands and folding it in half. "You just . . . focus on getting dressed, dear."
"It's frustrating, but it's business. I'll take care of it."
She guides me into the closet, where she picks out a dress for me to wear. It's a black, velvety number with sleeves that stop at my forearms. Perhaps a poor choice for what's predicted to be a sunny, near spring-like day in March, but definitely a viable choice within my current all-black wheelhouse.
Looking in the mirror as she buttons up the back for me, I'm surprised that Norax would pick it at all, given how often she asks me to stop wearing sadder neutrals. Now would've been a good a time as ever to pick out something bright and loud for me. But she didn't. And for a flicker of a moment when our eyes meet through the mirror, I feel the way I did at the beginning of all this, before it all went south straight to hell. I feel understood by her.
Norax's lips curve up into a smile. "Happy birthday, lumerpa."
I don't know what to say. I look down at my feet.
The ambivalence stirring within me carries on during the car ride to the first stop on my media blitz. Minus Gerald, I'm in the car alone, left to ruminate while Cartney and Chapter take their own separate rides to the destination.
My leg bounces up and down restlessly against the leather seat cushion as the car passes heard after hoard of cameramen. The paparazzi seem to be everywhere. I notice they've multiplied since I left the Metropolix; an exponentially growing cult of sorts, dashing down the sidewalks to follow us to our destination and searching in earnest for a sign confirming or denying their rumors. Are you two engaged? Is he proposing tonight?
There have been plenty brief speculations as to why Cartney and I have been seen together at so many high profile restaurants this week, but nothing like the hailstorm of accusations I was hit with in the Analytix today. The mere thought of having to spend the whole day sitting in between the two of them while reporters ask about the potential engagement makes me want to runââto hide away in my old school's locker room like I did all of last year's birthday. Thinking about this, I suddenly become keenly aware of the fact that I have Carstan to thank for convincing Norax to let Cartney and Chapter join me today. Somehow, he's made himself a source of my dread once again.
The sidewalk outside the Betnedoor Radio building may as well be paved with people, there are so many gathered outside for me. As we make our way through, I see so many cakes and presents being thrust toward me that for a moment I fear they'll start throwing them at my face just to get them to me. Gerald shields it all as best as he can, which coats the front of his uniform with a rainbow of frosting.
Feeling overwhelmed by the crowds around me, I look up. The forecasts were right: The sun is out without a cloud to block it, and it really does appear to be a perfect day. The usual rain and snow must've all collected itself in my head.
Inside, a dozen choruses of celebration ring out from each end of the lobby. While this kind of grand-scale love should be filling me with pride and overwhelment, there's so much else swirling around in my head that I can barely hear a thing. My smile is held up by stilts. All I want to do is go home.
xxx
Oof, there is is. Tell me your thoughts. Personally, I'm so sorry about how boring and melodramatic that mess was. I'll make thing concise and better when I edit this draft. Ughhh!
I was going to add their first interview of the day so that we could see the simmering drama between Cartney and Emeray now that she Knows What He's Done, but I had a chaotic meltdown (see my tweets @kassandra_tate) about how goddamn hard it is to write in Chapter's voice nowadays!!
If we wanted to equate my characters to ones in The Vampire Diaries, Chapter is probably Stefan, right? He's the GOOD GUY in ALL CAPS. And even though he's been perfectly witty and spectacular in the past, I couldn't stop stifling his dialogue and making it wayyyyy too GOOD GUY in ALL CAPS. He was so boring and I was so disappointed so I scrapped the scene.
Here's to hoping a little week-long trip to New York will inspire me and remind me how to write Chapter Dialogue. In the meantime, here's how Chapter is probably acting rn as I prepare to write about him properly again:
Groom your hero hair, Chapter. You're coming back, baby. And Emeray needs you!!!
Okay, now my meltdown is trickling over into Wattpad. Let's end that now! To distract me from my writer's block, please tell me 1) Your Name So I Can Make You A Character, 2) Your Five Favorite Movies In No Particular Order, and 3) Your current favorite dessert. I'd love to know that. Here, I'll start:
1) Kassandra. God, I hope I make myself a character! On that note, remember when the earliest readers who were reading as I was posting used to call me Norax? OOF! We were all so young!
2) Ferris Bueller's Day Off, The Graduate, The Social Network, Whiplash, and How To Train Your Dragon. A balanced list.
3) Right now, weirdly, I'm obsessed with banana pudding. Can't wait to have ALL of the Magnolia Bakery banana pudding in the world in New York.
Hope you commented your own answers. I'll need something nice to read when the plane's landed! And I just love getting to know more about you, truly!!!
Before I leave you, I'll remind you again to read THE AROTTIR by the miraculous and amazing hannahgrowe! Truly, she is a marvel!!
Have a wonderful weekend, Wattpad! And remember:
Sticks and Stones may break your bones, but haters make you famoux. Stay classy, stay classix.