Beautiful People - Chapter 17: Chapter 17

Weighted by a sticky hangover was not the way Vera would have planned to do her first official interview, but the questions were in her email when she woke up at noon, head still thickened by the sugary shots Jay had bought sometime after midnight. The drinks had seemed like a good idea at the time. Vera wished she could go back and slap her past self for being so dumb.
The questions came with a deadline: We would like to run the article on the blog early next week. Please respond as soon as possible!
So, in an aching haze, Vera crawled from her bed like a badly-decayed zombie to make a pot of acidic hotel coffee. Then she propped her laptop on her knees and answered questions like, You came out of nowhere to create the biggest fashion moment of the decade so far -- how did your association with Carmen Juarez happen? What inspires you when you're creating a look? And, finally, Do you think you'll ever be able to create another look as memorable as what Carmen wore on the Teen Taste carpet?
Vera snagged there, pulse thudding in her skull. The question dug at her, blunt, like a sequin wedged beneath her fingernail.
It had been a good look. No, fuck modesty, it had been an amazing look. Vera was proud of what she had created. But she had to admit that her look alone probably wouldn't have gone viral.
The truth was, none of this would have happened if Carmen hadn't forgotten her cup on the bathroom counter. Without Carmen's spectacular talent to fuck up, it would have just been a really good look. It wouldn't have become infamous.
And Vera could never recreate such an accident on purpose. What if this ignorant magazine writer was right? What if the only thing she would ever be known for was Carmen's bloody crotch?
She was too hungover for soul-searching. Grimacing, Vera shoved her laptop to the side without answering. She would finish the interview later.
Jay looked fresh and cheerful when they showed up to dress Carmen that afternoon. He laughed too loudly and hugged Vera too tightly and somehow didn't even have bags under his eyes. It was obnoxious.
A late-night comedy show had called the day before to book Carmen after their scheduled guest dropped out last minute. She was steeling herself to joke about the period moment yet again in exchange for a chance to talk up her Merry Sanders project. It wasn't even difficult for Vera to convince her to wear red leather pants and a simple white top with lace at the throat. They were leaning all the way in. They had abandoned subtlety the moment Carmen had stepped out of that limo at the Teen Taste Awards. Vera was living for it.
Sharise was fretting, twisting silver beads between pearly nails. "Isn't it too early to be pushing this film so hard? We're four months out from the premier."
Cora tapped away at her phone. "It would be stupid not to take advantage of all the free press we're getting right now."
"We can't keep up the momentum. The girl will be filming her next project this summer. Out of sight on set."
"The studio marketing team agrees with me, Sharise." Cora still didn't look up from her phone. "We'll worry about sustaining the hype when we get there. Maybe we can make that quiet period work in our favour. Give people a chance to get really thirsty. Then WHAM. Carmen comes out at the premiere in another unforgettable Vera look, blows their minds, then blows them again with her acting."
Vera shoved a pin through the waist of Carmen's pants and tried to pretend that wasn't a lot of pressure to put on her.
"If you're gonna talk about me like I'm not here, then go somewhere else." Carmen waved one hand dismissively. "I'm getting beautiful."
"The queen has spoken," Jay said, fluttering his hand in imitation. "We can't work with all this chatter disrupting things."
With a deeply unimpressed look, Sharise herded Cora out of the room-sized closet. Vera tucked a smile between her teeth.
Tugging at the silver pins wedged through double-thick leather in the waistband of the red pants, Vera said, "This gap is giving me anxiety. I swear these pants fit you last week. Didn't they fit last week?"
Carmen's face lit up with glee. "I lost two pounds, bitch."
"Couldn't you tell she lost two pounds, Vee?" Jay said, lifting his eyebrows comically to his hairline.
"Fuck you," Carmen said, letting out a cackling giggle. "I worked hard for those two pounds."
"You couldn't've warned me so I'd know it needed adjusting?"
"You couldn't've warned me you were trying to get with my manager?"
Vera definitely didn't stab Carmen with her next pin on purpose.
"Ow!"
"Sorry."
From Carmen's other side, where she was comparing lipstick colours, Lily muttered, "No, you're not." Everyone ignored her.
Vera pressed to her feet. "Take them off. It'll just take a couple minutes to sew it up. It won't be noticeable."
Scrunching her face up in a way that suggested this conversation wasn't over but she had more important things to worry about at the moment, Carmen wriggled out of the pants, then settled into the makeup chair and crossed her long bare legs in one smooth motion.
While Jay and Lily got to work, Vera took the pants into the other closet. Her sewing machine was still set up by the window, lit now by the warm glow of ageing sunlight. Before she started, she made a note in her phone to look for tailors. She wouldn't have time to do all the alterations herself once she took on more clients.
As she threaded the machine and checked the tension, as she lifted the presser foot and aligned the pinned waistband of the pants under the needle, Vera bounced her heel against the floor. She hadn't yet told Carmen about Marina's offer. She wanted to bring it up with Sharise first. It would be unfair to say she was doing anything wrong by taking the job, but that didn't make her any less nervous about how Carmen might react. Sharise would have some tips.
The sewing machine hummed beneath her hands when she stepped on the pedal, sharp needle plunging eagerly through the leather. The heavy fabric needed careful guidance to ensure it didn't slip or bunch. So she didn't look up when Sharise peeked into the room, then stepped inside and drew the door shut behind her.
"Sorry to interrupt."
"You're not interrupting unless you expect kisses."
Sharise didn't laugh and didn't move closer, just hovered awkwardly near the door like she had that first day when they were still prickly. Vera lifted her foot off the pedal and looked up, adjusting the drape of the pant leg across her thighs.
"Too soon to joke about kisses?"
"I just--" Sharise hesitated, not meeting Vera's eyes. "Ellie called."
Vera's brows drew together. "I thought you blocked her number?"
"Called from her hotel. She's in town today." Palms ran nervously over her hips. "I haven't cancelled my salon appointment yet, but..."
"I'm free tonight." Vera smiled reassuringly.
Sharise nodded once. Straightening her shoulders, she nodded again. "I appreciate this."
"Sharise." Vera tried to look as serious as she could while a pair of red leather pants were trapped in her sewing machine. "All you have to do is ask. You're always looking out for everyone. I want you to let me look out for you."
A tiny smile cracked Sharise's lips. "Sweet talker."
Vera's grin was huge in return. "Only for you, sweetheart."
Sharise put a palm to her cheek. "What am I going to do with you, Vera?"
"Fall in love with me, probably."
A laugh caught between her teeth, Sharise just shook her head as she left.
Vera finished her sewing and trimmed all the threads. Carmen slipped into the pants, which now kissed the hollow of her waist like a lover, and Jay put the finishing touches on her makeup.
Admiring herself in the mirror, Carmen said, "I can't believe I let you dress me like a used tampon. What's wrong with me?"
Vera snorted out a laugh. "You're finally embracing the extra."
"You look hot, girl," Jay said, buckling his makeup case shut.
"Obviously I look hot." She patted her sleek topknot, then sighed loudly. "A hot tampon. The things I do to show up Marina fucking Taylor."
Vera winced.
Once they had waved Carmen off with her driver, Sharise drove them back to her apartment. Vera would have mentioned her job with Marina, but Sharise was tense, lips pressed in a tight line, foot heavy on the accelerator. So Vera avoided thinking about her questionable life choices by taking selfies in the perfectly flattering evening sunlight. At one point as the car climbed into brown hills, the ocean could be seen glinting in the background. Vera filtered out the smoggy skyline and sent that photo to Ivy.
A sleek, matte green sports car lurked in the visitor parking at the apartment. It drew Sharise's gaze like a magnet. As they slammed the car doors and started through the parking lot, Vera squeezed her hand for support. Sharise clung tightly until they rounded the corner to the main entrance. Lounging beside the door with one leg propped up against the wall and eyes glued to her phone was a woman with perfect bronze skin and a cap of short, inky curls. She looked utterly bored. Sharise pulled away to tuck her hands into her pockets.
As they approached, Vera studied Sharise's ex-girlfriend. Ellie was the kind of gorgeous that seemed effortless: impossibly tall and willowy, she held herself like she knew people were always watching her. Even in grey joggers and a black t-shirt, she would have looked at home on a catwalk. Her shoes were five-thousand-dollar high top sneakers from a limited collection. And when their ringing footsteps made her look up, those long-lashed dark eyes above the slant of sharp lips felt disarmingly familiar.
"You're late," Ellie said, sliding her phone into her pocket with a disgustingly graceful motion.
"Traffic." Sharise's voice was cool. "It happens sometimes in LA."
"C'mon, Sherry," Ellie said, lips twisting into a condescending smile. Her voice rolled like smokey bourbon, her Southern drawl even thicker than Jay's. "Just 'cause I'm in New York now don't mean I forget what it's like to live here."
They stared at each other, coiled but very obviously trying to look relaxed. The tension was thick as cold grease.
Vera blurted, "Hi, I'm Vera."
Ellie looked down her nose like she had smelled something unpleasant. After a moment, she said, "Hi. Elaheh."
Vera swallowed her gasp.
"You replaced me just like that, Sherry?" Ellie pouted, but her eyes were cold.
"Don't play this game." Sharise unlocked the door.
Ellie followed her in, saying, "I'm not playin' games. You broke my heart. You expect me to forget that?"
The two taller women strode ahead like the hall was a runway at Fashion Week and they were competing to show off their best strut. Hurrying after them, Vera had to take twice as many steps to keep up. The heel of her cheap shoe wobbled beneath her right foot. The seams of her beaded shirt chafed under her arms. Sharise and Ellie glowed like the harsh fluorescent bulbs gave off the softest, most pristine natural light. In the presence of such unearthly beauty, Vera felt small and ugly and embarrassingly, painfully average. She hadn't felt so out of place in this city since that first day at Carmen's.
Ellie stalked down the hall like a supermodel because that's what she was. Vera should have recognized her immediately, but she hadn't expected Sharise's ex-girlfriend to be one of the most famous models in the world. Elaheh Parsa had walked in Paris Fashion Week for the first time when she was sixteen. She had covered UK Vogue and Vogue Arabia. She was Fatima Bhatia's favourite model and brand ambassador. She was good friends with Marina Taylor.
And she was, apparently, a huge fucking bitch.
"I'm not going to have this fight with you again," Sharise said as they mounted the stairs.
"Is this what we're gonna do, then? You're gonna cut me off forever like you did your mom? Danielle says hi, by the way. She wishes you'd call."
Sharise's fists were clenched on her keys. The sight made Vera's stomach ache.
"I have nothing else to say to you."
"Nothin'? After fifteen years of friendship and a fuckin' ring, you've got nothin' to say to me?"
Vera's stomach rose up into her throat. It was definitely only the exertion of climbing six flights of stairs and not that ominous reference to a ring.
"Stop it, Ellie. It's over."
"I don't want you back," Ellie scoffed. "I've got a new girl. One who gives a shit about me. Just wish you'd stop acting like I never meant anythin' to you before I taught you how to kiss."
This spiky jealousy clawing up Vera's spine was ugly and stupid. It didn't matter that Ellie was infinitely more beautiful and successful than Vera, that her voice was sex made into sound, that she obviously had a history with Sharise that Vera would never understand. What mattered was that Sharise wanted Vera here. She was supposed to be backup, and she wasn't doing a very good job of it.
"How do you like living in New York?" Vera asked stupidly.
"New York?" Ellie didn't even look at her. "I love it. People there aren't so fake as in LA."
"Maybe the problem isn't the other people," Vera said.
Ellie's laughter cracked like lightning in a clear sky. "You haven't been in LA very long, have you?"
Vera bristled. "Assholes are assholes no matter where they live."
"Give it a little longer. You'll get it."
Vera was immensely relieved when they finally made it to the apartment.
The cardboard boxes stacked beneath Sharise's bedroom window were heavy and required two pairs of hands to lift. Dust puffed off the top when Sharise shifted the first one. Vera volunteered to help Ellie haul them down the stairs, even though she was still sweating from the climb up and being alone with Ellie wasn't exactly top on her list of things she wanted to do.
"Why don't you drag them to the door and we'll take them down," she suggested. Sharise didn't argue.
Vera felt a little better when Ellie seemed to struggle just as much with the boxes. They grunted and manoeuvered the first box down the stairs and around the corners of the landings. Vera strongly suspected it was full of rocks. The chafing of her shirt under her arms was becoming unbearable.
When they had thumped the box into the trunk of Ellie's sleek little sports car, Vera let out a heavy sigh of relief. Ellie looked her up and down slowly, a twist of cruel smile on her sharp mouth. Then she started back across the parking lot.
Brows drawing together, Vera trotted after her. "What? You wanna say something?"
Ellie shrugged delicately sloped shoulders. "You won't last here."
"You didn't last here."
"I upgraded. Sharise downgraded. Who are you, anyway? I've never seen you before."
Vera's face heated up. "I'm a stylist."
Ellie glanced at her again, at her cheap cherry-red heels and her Gucci purse. "Never woulda guessed."
"At least I care about Sharise," Vera snapped, hands balling up into fists. "I'm never gonna cheat on her."
Ellie rolled her eyes. "Sweet Jesus. Of course she told you about that. But I bet she didn't tell you that she forgave me for that. Or that when I proposed she said yes."
Vera stumbled on a step and crashed into the stairs above, hard, metal edging biting into her palms.
Ellie didn't slow down or look back. Heartbeat thick in her ears, Vera scrambled back to her feet, ignoring the stinging in her palms, the torn knee of her jeans. She reminded herself that this didn't matter. Whatever had happened in their relationship, Sharise didn't love Ellie anymore. She'd said so.
"Maybe she said yes. But she still broke up with you," she said, sounding shamefully desperate.
A grimace twisted Ellie's gorgeous face. "It don't matter how much you care. You'll always come second to that bitch Carmen Juarez. Sherry would slit her own throat for that girl. She's never gonna do that for you."
Vera had nothing to say in response to that.
They didn't talk again except to say "slower" and "let's take a break for a sec" as they collected the remaining boxes from outside the door of Sharise's apartment and got them somehow down the stairs. At last, Ellie slammed her trunk shut. Vera turned and walked away without saying goodbye.
She shook out her sore arms. Her toes pinched and her feet ached. She couldn't stand thinking for one more second about the fact that Sharise had agreed to marry this woman who had cheated on her.
When Vera slipped back into the apartment, Sharise was in the middle of the tiny kitchen, hands loose at her sides, staring at nothing. At the sight of Vera, her lips pulled down in embarrassment.
"I was going to--" Sharise fumbled, tried again. "The vase-- The flowers need water."
The vase on the counter was three-quarters full of clear water, and Sharise didn't move. She folded her fingers over her palms, then spread them apart again. Vera pressed her hand against the doorframe, uncertain.
Sharise whispered, "I don't know how she always makes me feel like I'm the one who fucked up. I tried so hard, Vera. I tried--"
Vera's eyes prickled. She remembered how it had felt, after Alex. Like she must have been so awful to deserve the person she loved treating her that way. Stepping across the room, she pulled Sharise into a hug.
"It's not your fault," Vera told her firmly.
Sharise folded into her, clung to her, her breathing shattered into a thousand shivering slivers. Her arms were warm, her palms soft against Vera's back, and Vera hoped her own warmth could provide as much comfort in return.
"Thank you," Sharise said eventually, so quietly it hurt.
Vera pressed a soft kiss against Sharise's neck, and then another against her jaw. "I'll always be here for you."
"Do you want to-- Stay for a bit? Watch a movie?"
"I wanna watch another one starring Sharise Carter."
Sharise didn't crack a smile, but she did look calmer when they pulled apart.
They settled on the couch with some popcorn and a cheesy rom-com. They snuggled close together, and Vera made dumb jokes about the movie, and soon enough Sharise was smiling again.
But Vera couldn't stop thinking about Ellie, about how Ellie went to all the same parties as Marina, how they had all the same friends. She had never felt so intensely how small this world of celebrity really was.
For the first time, she felt a drop of dread at the thought of telling Sharise that she was going to be styling Marina.
Laying her lips against the gentle slope of Sharise's shoulder, Vera snuggled closer, tucked her palm into the curve of Sharise's hip. With a contented sigh, Sharise rested her warm hand against Vera's, fingers slipping together like they had always belonged there.
Vera had never been someone else's strength before. She couldn't worry about Marina when Sharise needed her. She would just wait a little. Until this thing with Ellie had blown over. Until Carmen's feud with Marina had cooled a little. She would tell them then.