HAPPY FAMOUX FRIDAY!
Taylor Swift's new album Lover is out today AND it's the thirteenth chapter? Did I plan this?
Also, re: the edit above.... Nice Fishbowl, Taylor! I love a Famoux reference!
Sorry for today's update being a *little* later in the day today. This chapter is... So long. People have been complaining about my chapters being too short lately, even though they're the same size as they usually are, so I thought, well, if more than five people have told me the chapters are short, why not bump it up this week! Now, instead of our usual 2,000 words, this chapter is around 3,600.
PREVIOUSLY ON THE CLASSIX: It's still the afternoon of Emeray's birthday, and Cartney just told Emeray that it WAS, indeed, him spotted at the ring shop. Not a DEFED clone. What ever will happen now??????
emeray
It's odd to watch him carry himself. All throughout his first interview with us at Delicatum's Top Charts, Cartney Kirk is a person I barely recognize––all quick quips and mischievous grins. I might've seen this person once or twice in flickers, but he dissipated fast to make way for the Cartney I know, the one I've come to expect.
But today, I don't quite know what to expect.
"So, Cartney," starts one of our hosts. I'm too stunned by Cartney's mannerisms that I can barely remember their names. "Since we've already discussed how your new single 'Emeray' and its meteoric rise to the top of our charts, so... We were thinking... Do you think you could maybe..."
From the cautious stalling comes a sudden teasing look as one of the other hosts interjects. "...Could you divulge a little for us on your whereabouts yesterday?"
A grin flicks up on Cartney's face––the likes of which I haven't recognized since before our dating contract.
"What ever could you be talking about?"
"You at the jewelry store?"
When he speaks, he speaks vauntingly––with a saccharine swagger, as if to assure whatever comes out of his mouth is the perfect soundbite for a tabloid cover.
"Oh that?" he asks. "Off picking something up for my dear, of course."
Since there are far too many cameras in the studio getting us at every direction, I resist the urge to look over at Chapter with utter alarm. He must be thinking what I'm thinking, though. It's all over his mannerisms––the quick shift in his seat, the way he fidgets with his hands for all of a second before settling back on his lap. I mimic them in slight.
"What were you picking up?" asks the first host.
Cartney grins harder. Shrugs.
"So you won't confirm nor deny for us?" asks another host.
"You'll know soon enough, I promise you," he tells him. Then, like a roulette wheels he turns on his stool, stopping right when he's in front of me. He takes my hand in his, eyes locking down onto mine. "And you'll know soon enough too."
The audience squeals in unison. The crew chuckles together. Somewhere amidst the chaos I can hear our hosts prompting me, but it's all white noise. Cartney's eyes stay trained on me, and try as I might to read them, uncover what he's thinking, I can't. All I can do is hope that my searching plays off as a serious, tender gaze on the news.
After that grand finale, the interview concludes, and we're onto the next one. There's no spare second to stop Cartney and ask him what's going on––why he's acting this way, why he did it––no, he's scooped up by two bodyguards bearing Buchan uniforms the very second we step out of the recording booth. Chapter and I are left to stare at one another in wonder.
The next interview is at yet another radio station, putting all focus on Cartney and I. The script is similar to the last in its playful, hearsay-spilling tone. Cartney breaks down lyrics of "Emeray", pulling marriage and wedding references out of the air so swiftly, I'm way past dizzy by the final chorus.
All the while, Chapter watches on, shifting in his seat, no doubt feeling out of place. When it was just the two of us in the beginning of the day, the question were centered on the movie, on the night ahead. The hosts had been respectful of Norax's notes to under no circumstances discuss the engagement rumors. But of course, the moment Cartney arrived, all respect was thrown to the wayside, and he welcomed it.
Once we're out of the main studio, Cartney's guards again try to usher Cartney away from us, but they're not quick enough. Chapter grabs a hold of him.
"Oh, no," he says. "You're not going anywhere right now, bud."
Perhaps too scared of whatever titanic lawsuit might unfold fighting against a Famoux member, the bodyguards relent instantly, letting Chapter pull Cartney all the way to one of the back entrances. They even pull a car around to the door when Chapter asks.
Once we're all inside, Chapter lets Cartney go. He immediately pushes back into his seat cushion, looking at the two of us with alarm.
"What the hell was that?" He rubs his shoulder where Chapter held it, brows furrowed. "What, did Ray want to kidnap me for her birthday?"
On one of the edges of the more-than-spacious Buchan car rests a mini bar and a full selection of snacks. Snapping right into a casual aura, Cartney pulls out a large bottle of champagne from a bucket of ice, gesturing to me with it.
"Did you want to celebrate your first kidnapping?" he offers.
"What are you playing at, man?" Chapter asks.
For a moment, Cartney ignores him, instead turning his attention to the array of fancy pastries on a tray. "What ever do you mean?"
"Don't give me your interview spiel," he says. "Why are you acting like you and Emeray are getting married?"
"Whoa, man. Didn't think you were the jealous boyfriend type. What, do you wish it was you getting to propose instead?"
My eyes widen. "Wait," I say. "Are you actually planning on proposing to me tonight, Cartney?"
"I mean, you never know." He shrugs. "I'm full of surprises."
Chapter frowns. "Why are you doing this to her?"
The intensity in Chapter's gaze makes the smirk on Cartney's face twist into an incredulous expression. He puts both his hands up like a surrender, the chocolate croissant in one of them hovering in the air.
"Dude! We're under a contract!" he exclaims. "Last I checked, it is my legally-bound obligation to make people believe that Emeray and I are in love! Why am I being punished for doing my job so well?"
"We usually talk about these things," I point out. "What ever happened to necessary and unnecessary?"
"If Buchan tells me to go somewhere, I go somewhere," he says. "If I knew you had a phone, I would've called you."
He takes a bite of his croissant and chews. "It's not like people haven't been assuming we'll get engaged," he adds. "I mean, there were probably engagement rumors for us before there were even rumors that we were a couple. I didn't think it mattered to tell you about it." When I continue to stare at him, unyielding, he adds, "Look, I didn't actually buy a ring or anything. I mean, for heaven's sake, it's a bluff."
"You've been telling every interviewer today point-blank that you were at that store buying Emeray something," Chapter says.
"Again, a bluff!"
"Why have you been acting so weird in the interviews?" I ask.
"Weird? How was I weird?"
"I don't know," I say. "You were reminding me of the way you used to act when you were with Kaytee. It scared me."
At the mention of her name, his face falls. Just as I start to regret bringing her up, he straightens his posture, returning to his default disposition.
"Oh, that's just my fake boyfriend persona," he says.
"You don't act that way everyday with me."
"Of course. It's my fake boyfriend interview persona." He nods to Chapter. "I'm just joining your lover over here in the fine art that is acting. I did well, no?"
But Chapter doesn't answer. Like a detective ready to interrogate, he instead launches off into his first question.
"So, as you mentioned before, it was Buchan who told you to go to the ring shop, correct?" he asks.
"Dude." Cartney looks out the window like he just can't take it. "They obviously told me to go to the ring shop. I do whatever they tell me to do."
"So DEFED didn't threaten you to do it or anything?"
At once, alarm washed all over Cartney's eyes. A chill runs through my body at the potential that Buchan cars might have microphones in them like ours. Either way, it's too late to take it back––Chapter's mentioned them.
"What? No," Cartney affirms. He shudders. "Why the hell would you even ask that? Wouldn't they rather, like, kill us than throw us a wedding?"
"So they also didn't threaten you later and force you to pretend like it was really was you at the jewelry store?"
"Why do you guys keep saying stuff like that?" Cartney asks. "How in the world would it not be me at the jewelry store?"
"DEFED's done things like this in the past," Chapter says.
"What? Thrown weddings?"
"Forced our hand."
"In marriage?"
"No, it's––"
Sensing Chapter's frustration, I interject, asking, "Do you remember when Marlon ran up to me in front of Wes Tegg's and kissed me in front of everybody?"
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.
Anyone at the party who isn't a Famoux member is absolutely buzzing about Cartney and I. It's all they can talk about when they see me: How do you like the song? What do you think about all those rumors? Where... Where is he right now? It's been a few hours now, and he still hasn't shown. It undoubtedly only adds to the excitement.
"Do you think Buchan told him to purposefully come late?" I ask Chapter by the entrance. We're standing by a pile of gifts so enormous, I have to wonder if they're actually just fake presents set up for decoration.
"Absolutely," Chapter says. "Nothing like a dramatic entrance."
As we await his arrival, a strange sort of dread creeps out and takes shelter in the pit of my stomach. Everything about this day has felt like a build up––to what, I'm not sure. Every moment I've been sure, the rug is thrown out from under me. I thought Cartney had betrayed me. Then I thought he'd been remade by DEFED. Then, the way he was acting so off in the interviews––it took me back to that feeling of first entering the contract, that feeling of first realizing how trapped I'd become.
Well knowing how many people must be looking our way, I take a step closer to Chapter. I don't grab his hand, no, nothing incriminating. Just a step closer. Of course, it's right then when Norax clacks up to us in her heels, grabbing a box from the large selection.
"Start opening these up, lumerpa," she orders.
"Right now?" I ask.
"It's almost midnight," she says. "Your birthday is nearly over."
"But Cartney hasn't shown up yet," I say. "Are we supposed to wait?"
Showing up beside Norax, Carstan refers to a small device. "The arrival will come soon," he says. At this convoluted wording, Chapter gives him a look. He frowns, then turns to me. "Just... Start opening them up."
The club-goers lucky enough to get in tonight are delighted to be witness to this moment. They pack together, creating a tight enough crowd that half of the dance floor is totally empty. From my seat at the center of attention, I can see them craning their necks, leaning forward, all personal space excused. I can tell that some of these people are the same ones who, as the news informed me, camped outside of Ace all day long just for the sheer possibility of getting to be here for the party tonight. To them, this present-opening is a wholly monumental occasion for them to bear witness to. To them, this is something that we're sharing with them––something that we could've done within the privacy of our own Metropolix.
They need not worry about privacy much longer; we here at the Famoux are working hard to become quite transparent. For all they know, they're the next member.
The first gift is from Kaytee: a necklace, the pendant bearing a small painting encased in glass. From Till I get a new pair of shoes––the same style she's been wearing outdoors lately. A lot of people seem to recognize them immediately, ooo-ing and ahhh-ing at the dark green design. Race presents me a boxful of bracelets made of thread and leather, which I wore on set for Algus & Alondra. The first trailer for the film came out a few weeks ago, so everybody seems to already be familiar with the bracelets. There are a couple shouts, of course, about how weird it is that I'm in a movie with the man who Kaytee cheated on Cartney with, but the whole lot of us ignore them. A few minutes later, the people who shouted are quickly and quietly escorted out of Ace all together.
Chapter, staying a good contract-induced distance away from me, hands over a small red gift bag. Inside, a large container of ground coffee beans.
Nobody in the room understands.
I can't help my smile. "The coffee theory?"
"Yes, of course," he says. "Only the best."
As I'm beaming over this, a hand wraps around my shoulder. The eruption of squeals from the onlookers are confirmation enough: Cartney.
He presents me his gift with the utmost melodrama: At first he pretends to get down on one knee, which makes the whole place scream. He quickly gets up, prompting shouts of dismay. In my peripheral view, I can see Kaytee try to walk away, but Race locks his arm around hers, keeping her in place. She resolves to look off to a different end of the room.
Back in the center of the show, Cartney pulls out a small box.
"Not a ring," he promises.
Not a ring, but a necklace. It's dainty, silver, and nondescript. For a moment I try to search for some kind of hidden meaning behind it, but then he whispers into my ear about how the jewelry company a sponsor for his next tour, and now I'll have to wear this for the next few months. For some reason, this fact makes me like the necklace even more. Of course, this is the meaning behind it. Of course it is.
Once the gift-giving comes to an end, the party continues on its pulsing, starlit course. Cartney looks to me teasingly.
"Sorry I was late," he says.
I give him a mock glare. "Still can't help making the night about yourself?"
"It was absolutely necessary," he insists. "Everyone needed to see once more how great I look in this jacket you make me wear every day."
I nod to the faux leather. "Why didn't you wear a suit like everyone else?"
"People love this jacket. They think we're adorable." He grabs the jewelry box from my hands. "Speaking of, you should start wearing this right now."
He tries to help me put it on, but it's so dainty that the the now-strobing lights make it difficult to clasp. Since we're already near the entrance, we step out into the lobby.
The lights are steady and golden. The necklace comes on easily. Once around my neck, I inspect the tiny pendant. What I thought was a circle turns out to be a C.
"Everyone can just assume it means Cartney," he explains. "But I mean, it'll probably mean something else for you."
"This is actually really nice," I say, partly to him, mostly to myself.
He smiles. "Now, if only your name started with a K."
Just as we're about to return to the party, another door next to the main one swings open. Norax comes rushing out, as if in a hurry. Her eyes widen when she sees us.
"Oh, lumerpa, hello," she says. She looks back at the door she just exited from, a shade of nervous streaking across her face. It makes the dread in my stomach return instantly.
"What's wrong?" I ask.
"It's nothing, lumerpa," she says. "What... What are you doing out here?"
I put a hand to my neck. "Um, my necklace."
"We needed to solidify the fake love," Cartney says.
She strains. "You don't mean that."
"Excuse me?"
"You two love each other. You're joking, Cartney."
Cartney and I both look at her warily.
"Uh, yeah . . . of course," says Cartney. For flare, he quotes a line of his new song for my birthday. "Our love is stronger than what broke me down before. You don't write those lyrics for no reason at all, am I right?"
"That's right," she states.
She drops her arm down to her side, her figure relaxing enough that she steps further from the door. Cartney takes full advantage of this moment. Taking a broad step, he slips right past her and into the room before she has the time to grab ahold of him.
A chorus of gasps ensue, just beyond eyeshot, and his head whips toward the sound. I watch his mouth as drops, his face as it switches to shock.
"Who the hell are you guys?"
My eyes dart to Norax as she winces, grabbing Cartney by the shoulders and yanking him back into the lobby. She shuts the door firmly, but we can hear right through it now––a dozen voices are clamoring about Cartney just beyond the door frame.
"What was that?" Cartney asks.
"You two need to get back to the party," Norax insists.
"Who were those people?"
The door reopens. Carstan comes out, eyes afire with frustration. It's so reminiscent of the past that I can't help but sidestep into Cartney, resisting the urge to run away.
"They weren't supposed to see them yet," he tells Norax.
"I know," she says. "I didn't think they were going to be out here."
Listening to them talk, mind clicks together a potential explanation. My jaw drops. "Wait. Norax. Are they..."
"The new members?" asks Carstan. "Yes. And now your surprise is ruined."
xxx
Noice. There it is. Tell me all your thoughts.
As of this chapter, we're over 100 pages in my word document! By page 100 of the first draft of Famoux, Emeray had JUST met the Famoux members after going from Emilee to Emeray. So it's fitting, I guess, that she's about to meet the new members on page 100 of this one!
What's your next week look like? I'm starting classes again! My final fall semester EVER?!?!
I hope you have a wonderful weekend. I'm so excited to kick into this new content with Classix! The new mems are gonna bring so much good drama!!!! YAY!!!
As always, I'm absolutely IMPLORING you to read THE AROTTIR by hannahgrowe. Her writing is a light in the darkness. A mainstay in a storm. IT'S JUST WONDERFUL OKAY?
Please send me your stories so I can read them!! Also, send me your good vibes for my first day of classes on Monday. My first class? "Screenwriting Thesis 1." So... I'm gonna have to start deciding what I want to write a movie about. A daunting and splendid task. What classes are you taking this year, if you're in school?
Okay, I'm gonna go now so I can post this. It's too late in the day! AGH! BYE!!! And remember:
Sticks and Stones may break your bones, but haters make you famoux. Stay classy, stay classix.