The Classix

*chapter thirteen*

    Cartney nods. "The nerve on that guy."

    "Well, when I confronted him about it a few days later, he was just as confused as I was. Because he didn't do it."

    "What do you mean, he didn't?"

    "DEFED made a copy of him, and had the copy do it."

    His eyes widen. "They can do that?"

    "They use the same technology that remade Chapter and I."

    The very mention of the Fissarex makes Cartney shrink back into his seat. He takes a moment to comprehend this all before saying, "So what, you thought that they made a fake me and paraded it around the third best jewelry store in Betnedoor?"

    "It would've explained why you were at the third best store," Chapter says.

    "Well, it was me," Cartney states, firmly. "Buchan's been wanting as much promo for the single as we can possibly get. Engagement rumors were an easy target." He looks down at his chocolate croissant, grimacing. He sets it down. "I don't really like the idea of someone being able to make a different version of me, though. That's certainly a thing I could've gone my whole life not knowing about."

    Just then, the car pulls up to the next destination. Outside, the crowds are delighted to see Cartney and I step out together, as a couple. I can hear at least a dozen different voices shouting out versions of the same obvious question: Are you two engaged? Will you be getting engaged any time soon?

    The thing Cartney's the most pleased about, however, is the fact that his new song is blaring over all the ruckus. Loud and clear over shouts and cries: His voice, singing my name over and over and over again.

    "Emeray" the song serves as the sole soundtrack for the rest of our media blitz afternoon. Every station and news studio we visit insists on playing it in its entirety, right in front of us––perhaps to catch my reactions, see what I'm feeling. When we stop at a restaurant for lunch, it plays on a loop, especially for us. In the car ride back to the Metropolix, the station we listen to loves the song so much, they play it twice. It's by this time when even Cartney himself is sick of hearing it.

    "Okay, it's not that fantastic," he says, covering his ears. "If I'd known I'd have to hear it this many times, maybe I would've come up with a better hook."

    "That's what you get for making this day about you," Chapter points out.

    Cartney scowls, but there's no real weight to it. "You're just jealous that people weren't focused on your pretentious movie."

    We're still in the Buchan car, so they drop Chapter and I off first at the Metropolix. I'm greeted to a foyer full of bright red streamers and sparkling confetti. In the middle of it all is Norax and Carstan, both smiling identically.

    After a dizzying near twenty outfit changes today, I'm told to get into my final one of the night. It turns out to be Teah's magnum opus––something similar to the golden one I wore months ago. That dress had long golden sleeves that seemed to fuse right into my wrists, but this one is a bright, brilliant brick red, and it's strapless. No matter how many times I turn and twirl around, the skirt never picks up, the fabric never falters.

    The party is at Ace, a nightclub I haven't been to since long before the last Darkening. The other Famoux members out to be already waiting there to surprise me––a gorgeously public display of full-member allegiance, and no doubt a plan from Carstan himself. As I take in their smiling faces, it somewhat sickens me that this is the first thought I have; of how good this surprise party makes all of us look.