Note: Morning! I just spent the whole week planning and plotting for this book, so I hope the plot picks up speed soon. Thank you for being so patient while this droned on week by week. I love you.
PREVIOUSLY ON THE CLASSIX: The Famoux just got to their new castle of a house called The Hideaway, and Cartney just told Emeray that they should totally play along with DEFED's game. Little did I know before posting that "Cartney's life isn't a big enough threat" to some readers. Do you propose I maybe threaten Chapter instead? Don't put these ideas in my mind like this, friends. *evil laughter.*
emeray
If it wasn't for the complete sincerity in his eyes, I would've thought Cartney was simply thinking rashly. Angad has shown up at the door to cut our conversation short, so it wouldn't be a surprise if he was no longer considering his words to their fullest.
But I can tell in the way he looks at me so deeply that they're completely considered. There's a glint in his eyes, a blaring signal that he means it when he suggests we become perfect players in a game set to end us.
He repeats his statement. "I want us to play along."
Play along.
I give Cartney a cautious look. "And how do you propose we do that?"
"They want us to be ruined. We should ruin ourselves."
Angad knocks tersely on the door. His muffled shouts to me that Norax is on the phone fill the silence that follows.
Cartney strains. "Ray, I know that sounds crazy––"
"I get it, DEFED's threatening to kill you if you don't play the game. But the game's they're playing is going to hurt us any way we slice it."
"No, no, Ray. This isn't about preserving my life. This is about freeing it. If we play along, they can't play against us."
"Huh?"
"DEFED is looking for an annoyingly over-affectionate couple," he says, "so we've got to deliver in excess. So much excess, in fact, that there's nothing they could do that could bring us down any further."
"Bringing ourselves down?" My nose crinkles. "Ruining our own lives? I think that's a really big gamble for us to take, Cartney. And regardless, Norax and Buchan would never let us purposely make people hate us."
"Buchan's all about getting my name in the news as much as possible before my album drops. As long as they're talking about me, it doesn't matter what they're talking about. And Norax––Norax didn't even remember to be in town for your birthday. She's so wrapped up in those new Famoux members of yours, she barely notices anything else. Now is the best time we'll ever have to actually do this."
"What if that ends up not working like you thought it would?"
Cartney rises to his feet, shooting a look at Angad through the glass door. "No, it'll work, I swear. If we make people hate you and I enough, DEFED won't be able to blackmail us anymore." He reaches down to help me up. "An engagement ring won't be a threat to us if we put them on first."
"So what––we succeed and the whole world hates us. DEFED just leaves us alone?" I shake my head. "It won't work that way."
"DEFED wants to bring us down, but doesn't realize they've giving us the best way possible to rise up. Ray, the 'perfect couple' thing can take us only so far before people want everything to completely fall apart. How much is everyone gonna love watching us break up when Buchan and Norax decide there's nothing more they can do?"
My jaw drops. An early breakup.
Before I can answer him, he puts his hand on the doorknob.
"Just think about it," he says, then pushes the door open.
We're greeted by Angad standing rigid, his arms crossed over his chest. "It's time to leave, now," he says. He glares at Cartney. "And no visitors tonight. Just Emeray. Norax wants to have a word with her."
Cartney salutes dramatically. "Understandable, sir."
On the drive back to the Hideaway, I consider Cartney's offer. As much as I want to disregard his idea, he's onto something. When DEFED threatened The Famoux the first time, they wanted each of us to do everything in our power to become the most popular member of them all. Back then, likability was the only way to secure our lives and make it through the Darkening in tact. But as they told me in their letter before my birthday, I'm not their "favorite" anymore. They don't want to see me become the most popular Famoux member this time around, they want to see the whole world united against me.
Cartney shows up at the Hideaway early the next morning, bringing with him a bouquet of lilies and a flock of paparazzi. Guards escort him into the massive front hall, calling me down from my room to meet him.
As I go down the stairs, I examine his outfit: Black jeans, fingerless gloves, moto jacket––the jacket he bought when he noticed me wearing so much of one color.
"I get the black clothes," he'd told me then. "You guys were good friends."
Foster.
When dealing with Foster, DEFED cheated their own game by getting involved. They broke up his relationship with Marilyn on purpose, only to find Kaytee and Race running themselves into the ground the next week. It didn't matter that they became more hated than Foster in the end––they'd already made up their minds. They always had it planned that their "Doctor Foster" would be the one who'd perish in the Fishbowl. Even if he'd fought back, he still would've lost.
But what if fighting back wasn't the point at all?
What if the best way to win a game is to not only follow your opponent's rules, but to take complete control of them?
When I reach Cartney at the ground floor, I reach out and touch one of the lilies. Its petals are soft, like silk.
"You brought mourning flowers," I note.
He smiles. "For the death of our careers."
"I can't believe we're going this."
"So we are doing this?"
I nod toward the hallway. "Would you like to join us for breakfast?"
For the next two weeks leading up to my return to the set of Onward Train, Cartney and I play DEFED's game like pros. Our keyword unnecessary goes completely out the window. From now on, everything is necessary in overabundance.
We become inseparable: Every morning he visits the Hideaway with a fresh bouquet of flowers, sitting in on our group breakfasts like an honorary Famoux member. We then leave the house together for a packed day of heavily documented shopping trips, romantic lunches, visits to his studio––anything we can be seen doing together. The more variety we can add to our day, the better. That way, there's always a new activity for the magazines and newscasts to touch upon.
It becomes a daily question: What did Cartney and Emeray do today?
At least two hours of every afternoon is dedicated to walking around different parts of the city, gazing lovingly at one another with the paparazzi hot on our heels. To add a little more dialogue to our relationship for the tabloids, we've decided to actually answer all of their questions as we go by.
"We're doing fantastic, actually. Thanks for asking!"
"Yes, I love her very much. I thought we established that yesterday."
"No, we're not having relationship troubles! It's hard to argue with someone you agree with on absolutely everything."
"I don't even think about Kaytee anymore, honestly. I'm all about Emeray. Yeah, you can quote me on that."
"Engaged? Oh, well, give us some time––"
"––don't worry, I'm working on it!"
At the end of the day, without fail, hundreds upon hundreds of photographs surface of Cartney and I smiling, embracing, existing fondly toward one another. The tabloids become so overwhelmed by the volume of pictures that they have to start creating sections of their issues exclusively for The Daily Emeray & Cartney. To the public, we are absolutely inescapable. No matter what news source you check, someone is always updating our whereabouts, our statements, our recent pictures.
Cartney was right about Buchan and Norax. As far is Buchan Records is concerned, Cartney and I are amping up our relationship grow hype for his upcoming album and tour. Norax, on the other hand, is so busy with situating things for the Fanatix that she barely realizes what Cartney and I are doing at all. In fact, the only thing she's requested of me as of late is that I tell her where I'm going before I leave the Hideaway.
As expected, she wasn't too pleased when I left unannounced the day we arrived. It's as if her disappearance back on my birthday never even happened––she treated my short afternoon trip like it was a criminal offense. But since the rules weren't made clear to me beforehand, she decided to let me off the hook and make it my first strike.
"Remember, lumerpa, this isn't a three-strike system," she warned me. "One strike is all you've got."
It's much easier for everyone not to talk back when she's exercising her authority. I stayed complaisant. "All right."
"Think about it from my standpoint. What if nobody took pictures when you left and I had no indication of where you were? Someone could've taken you. DEFED isn't the only group of creepy people who threaten us."
I nodded, remembering what Carstan told me about the piles of negative messages they hide from the members and I. "Yeah. Yeah, I know."
Everyday following, I'm careful to make sure I clock in before I go anywhere. As it turns out, it doesn't matter to her where I'm going, it only matters that she knows I have three guards and the paparazzi tagging along. Cartney and I are able to run around Colburn for as long as we want.
Apart from needing permission to leave, there are a couple other significant changes to our lives in the Hideaway. For one, there's no longer a singular room for the Analytix, but many smaller, personal ones. Our evasive method of keeping track of public opinion isn't exactly something Norax wants the Fanatix to find out about, so she's had compact versions installed in every Classix member's bathroom. As Kaytee so eloquently put it when Norax told us about them: "Now, we don't even have to leave the comfort of our own rooms to be pummeled by the judgements of Delicatum."
My new Analytix looks a little like an extra shower––a spa, maybe, sectioned off in the corner of the master bath by decorative tile and glass. There's even a fake faucet inside, and an entire row of shampoos and conditioners. Anyone visiting wouldn't think a thing of it at all unless they stepped inside and started hearing all the voices.
I check my Analytix every night before I go to sleep. As far as these two weeks have gone, Cartney and I are doing our job well:
"They are so freaking annoying now, don't you think?"
"Absolutely no one is that happy with each other everyday."
"Why can't Cartney Kirk and Emeray Essence keep their relationship to themselves? We here at Notness Gossip would like to know."
"The more the media throws them in my face, the more I hate them."
"Every time I see a new picture of Cartney with flowers for her, the urge to punch the both of them in the face grows even stronger. God, I can't take it!"
The complaints grow day to day. If DEFED were to set up a Volxsturm again, I'm positive I'd be somewhere on the bottom.
Playing in DEFED's game, aside from being a pretty big gamble for Cartney and I, is pretty isolating. Classix and Fanatix alike, I've barely seen any of the other members since we moved into the Hideaway outside of our breakfasts in the mornings. Even then, Cartney is with us, waiting to start another day of holding hands in the snow like a winter fashion catalogue. It isn't surprising to either of us that every Classix member subsequently avoids us when he's around, but it doesn't make it any less frustrating to me when Kaytee or Race won't even meet my eyes across the table.
"Cheer up, Ray," Cartney told me on one of our walks. "You're about to get a mini vacation from me on your movie set, remember?"
While Chapter and I film the rest of the scenes for Onward Train, Cartney is going to be off on a remote location to rehearse for his world tour. His album is set to release sometime in the next month, chock-full of songs embellishing our epic love story. In a last minute addition over the last two weeks, Cartney had me record a few harmonies on some tracks for people to uncover when they dissect the songs for hidden references.
The tour is going to last for almost half a year, and Buchan has already planned a dozen specific dates for me to jet out and see him. Even so, Cartney and I are about to face the longest stretch of time away from each other since the contract started. There's no telling what DEFED could do to either of us within that timeframe.
"A vacation from you, sure, but a return to the Fanatix."
"Oh, yeah. You have to take, like, three of them with you, right?"
"My two and Chapter's."
He laughs. "Oh, I'm sure you guys'll have a blast babysitting them all day long. And here I thought I was gonna have to worry about you getting caught cheating on me."
xxx
There's more where that came from, friends. Click on!!!!
Sticks and Stones may break your bones, but haters make you famoux. Stay classy, stay classix.