RED CARPET PREMIERE STATUS
It's been 48 hours of crowds and chaos and more people than even Miles could have hoped for. And that brings us to Friday afternoon. I'm sitting at the juice bar, video-chatting with Cece about coordinating our outfits tonight.
Yes, coordinating.
Normally, I'd be opposed to this. Unless it was for a wedding or something else requiring absolute matching fashion. And that's what tonight is. The premiere of Exposé. Cece's first (incredibly minor) film role. We are both convinced they brought her in for a cameo solely for publicity reasons, but still.
And so we are making our red carpet premiere tonight. That's the status we've reached. It's not like it's a secret we are dating, but we typically try not to flaunt it. We like to maintain some semblance of a normal private life and ordinary relationship.
Cece sends me a snap of her in a champagne gown, satin or silk or something like that. It hangs loosely and looks more like a sexy night slip than an actual dress.
I send her back a bunch of yellow hearts in approval.
You can wear that black suit
One with the gold cuffs
You wore it to that Gala
I know exactly which suit she's talking about, as if I could ever forget the first gala I attended with the Majors.
I finish my pineapple basil kale concoction and scoop my phone off the juice bar. The downstairs is still packed when I say goodbye to Miles and slip out the side door. Seafoam tanks hang in the side window, and I can't help but think of my time on the Mobile Star. The tanks are the exact color of the Caribbean.
...
6:01 PM
Cece sneaks into my bedroom as I finish the last buttons on my shirt. She is breathtaking. Truly next level. I know she had an entire team doing her hair and makeup earlier, but still all credit must go to her and the way she holds herself. The way her body holds this slinky gold dress.
"Hi babe," she says, kissing me.
"Hey honey, ready?" I ask.
I take her hand in mine and it feels empty. No jewelry. I picture my ring on her finger. This premiere is another reason I'm waiting. It's enough we are making a debut as a couple, but to be engaged all at the same time? World ain't ready for that.
We waltz over to the floor-length mirror on my wall and take ourselves in.
"Not bad for red carpet premiere," she jokes.
"Not at all." I squeeze her waist and she giggles as I bury my head into her hair, my lips finding her neck.
"Stop. Stop," she laughs. "We're gonna be late. Come on."
"Ugh," I groan in want. "Fine."
Cece's driver picks us up out front. A few people stare at us from across the street, but I suppose from far away we look just like any other 30-some couple going out to a fancy party or wedding.
Exposé selected The Egyptian Theatre to host its premiere. As we pull up 20 minutes later, to a crowd of hundreds under flashing lights, I see the red carpet draped all the way down to the doors.
The door is pulled open for us. Cece gets out first, and I hear all the shouting and screaming fans before I even step out behind her. All I can think of is Old Hollywood and how this theater is left over from The Golden Age of movies and film stars and a whole world that seemed much better than this one.
Never in my wildest dreams did I picture myself walking the red carpet like Cary Grant or Humphrey Bogart, let alone with a Vivien Leigh or Rita Hayworth on my arm.
Chill, Jay. I remind myself I am not the star. I am just the date.
Cece clutches at my arm all the way down the carpet to the staged photo area. We stand in front of a big back drop poster of Exposé. The smile on my face feels frozen and stiff and after a while I wonder if I look more in pain than anything else.
I glance at Cece, who is dazzling the cameras like always. I think this isn't so bad. I could get used to these kinds of flashy premieres and crowds. I could get used to fake smiling. I kiss her cheek, as instructed to do so on the car ride over.
The insatiable paparazzi loves this. A minute later we migrate down the carpet to make room for the next couple. A reporter meets us at the end, waiting to ask Cece questions about the movie.
"Cece Majors, this is your first movie role and first red-carpet premiere. Can you tell me if you expected this kind of fan response?" He asks, holding the vintage microphone up expectantly.
Cece doesn't miss a beat.
"It's a dream come true to see this level of love and support from fans. Like a fairytale," she smiles.
"And I see you brought the rumored boyfriend," the reporter says, eyeing me. "You two have been keeping us guessing for months. Why choose now to go public?"
"It felt like the right time," Cece answers.
"Timing is everything. You're an entrepreneur, correct?" He asks me.
"That's right," I nod.
"Cece, what can you comment on speculation that you'll be headlining the rumored sequel to Exposé?" The reporter asks.
I glance at Cece, surprised to hear this news. If it's true or not, I'm just as in the dark as this quirky reporter apparently."
"I can't comment on speculation," she smirks mischievously.
"Keeping us guessing again," the reporter adds. He turns to the camera to finish. "Thanks for chatting with us. We can't wait to see more from this handsome couple."
We move along to the next stage of the red carpet: The end.
"Not so horrible, babe," Cece whispers into my chest.
"Nope." I kiss the top of her head.
We smile all the way down the queen palm tree-studded courtyard until we reach the colossal pillars of Grauman's Egyptian Theatre.
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