Beautiful People - Chapter 35: Chapter 35

"Lily is backstage right now doing makeup for the models?" Vera's jaw would have dropped if it wasn't already on the floor. "The audacity. Why? And who the fuck let her in after what she did?"
"Maybe she thought no one would notice her." Jay shifted the straw in his drink with delicate fingers, the last fringes of smoke eddying.
"I mean, she'd be right. She's basically invisible half the time."
Jay snorted. "Cove only mentioned it because they wanted to know if my situation with her was over. I kind of vented a bit the last time we talked. Probably why we never got past talking, to be honest."
Vera tugged at one earring as her mind sifted through all the ways she'd imagined tricking Lily into confessing that she had leaked the photos. The catfish plan would be difficult to execute in person. Maybe that was for the best. Exposing her would just be petty revenge unless there were actual consequences.
With a frown, she glanced back at the auction items. That big nude painting from Carmen's collection had twinged her memory. Something about the first day she had arrived in Hollywood and felt so out of place in the actor's luxurious home.
"Jay," Vera said, slowly. "When I started with Carmen I had to sign this horrific non-disclosure agreement. I swear that thing weighed more than me."
"Why are you giving me traumatic flashbacks about Carmen's NDA?"
"Did Lily sign it, too?"
His eyes widened. "Oh, shit."
"Leaking those photos would be a problem for someone who signed that agreement, right? Maybe we can't do anything about her, but if Carmen wanted to sue someone for violating an NDA..."
By the time she trailed off, Jay was nodding vigorously. "We need to get backstage."
Around them, the crowd pressed towards the seats surrounding the catwalk. The VIPs had already settled in the front row. Moments later, half-hearted applause broke out as the host stepped up on stage under rising spotlights. She was a comedian well known for including at least one period joke in every set, and Vera wondered how they'd managed to book her on such short notice.
"Who's ready to have a bloody good time?" the host joked, to a chorus of groans.
At the reminder that this event was, in fact, a fundraiser, uncertainty crept in. Vera's scheming had caused trouble before. It seemed wrong to let Lily work uncontested at an event organized by the two people whose private business she had put on blast to the world, but if Vera got kicked out of a charity fashion show for snooping around backstage, she might never live it down.
After an introduction absolutely dripping with menstrual puns, the comedian wrapped up with a flourish. Then Carmen sashayed onto the stage to wildly enthusiastic applause, followed a moment later by Marina.
They were obviously capitalizing on the infamy of the Venice photo leak and the fan investment in their months-long feud to benefit the charity. The headlines wouldn't hurt Carmen's Oscar campaign, either. Just like all their public appearances, there was an element of performance in being here together, even if they looked genuine as they waved to the crowd. But Vera couldn't help feeling like she was seeing something real in the joy on their faces when they looked at each other. Maybe being outed hadn't damaged their relationship, despite all their public denials.
Wait- she squinted. If she wasn't mistaken, they were both wearing designers she had recommended to them, Marina with bows all down her arms and Carmen in a geometric-print playsuit and thigh-high boots. Her heart buoyed like someone had tied a helium balloon to it.
Maybe she could take a risk on one more scheme.
She looked at the backstage entrance, a gap in the canvas curtains near the wall. A security guard stood there. Although their eyes were on the stage, their whole body blocked the entrance, and they turned, alert, at every movement near them.
"Okay, Jay. How do we get backstage?"
His teeth flashed as the house lights went down. He held up his phone. "Already on it."
"Welcome!" On stage, Carmen tossed her curls over her shoulder. "Thank you all for joining us today as we celebrate the people who put so much effort into that most essential of tasks - making us look beautiful." Laughter bubbled. "This is Hollywood, and in Hollywood we all love to look good. Some might call that vanity. A stylist I used to work with called it business." Holding up a hand to her mouth as though sharing a secret with the crowd, she added, "She was fun sometimes, I swear."
Vera's face warmed.
"But she was right. Fashion isn't frivolous. It's part of our jobs. It's how we express ourselves. It's how we tell stories. It's how we get the attention of audiences on us and our projects. And the best part is that it can be really fucking fun." More laughter. "So, with that said, tonight we put our love of fashion to a good cause."
She swept her arm out and the spotlight flipped to Marina, who stepped forward to talk about the charity and what it meant to her.
They peppered their light-hearted patter with more jokes, some of them about periods. They did not share lingering eye contact or claim to be a couple. They didn't mention the Venice photo leak despite the loud undercurrent that they knew the audience was curious.
Vera was just relieved Carmen didn't say the phrase tampons for tiny tramps. She was also kind of proud, maybe, just a little. It hadn't been so long ago that Carmen had been sulking on a couch over how she just wanted to look sexy and have every gossip blog write nice things about her.
The last of the audience were finding their seats, while others clumped together behind the chairs, clutching their smoking beverages. Vera and Jay floated towards the backstage entrance, using the darkness and shreds of crowd for cover.
A representative of the charity stepped out on stage to another smatter of applause and began to talk about their mission of making menstrual products accessible to all and how tonight's show would help. The last of the guests settled and fell quiet. Finally, Fatima Bhatia joined the group on stage to speak about nurturing young talent in the fashion world. Then all the speakers shuffled off the stage to a final round of applause, leaving only the host, who introduced the first designer. The last of the lights went dark. The French DJ Sharise had sat beside at Paris Fashion Week put on some heavy beats.
By this time, Vera and Jay were only steps from the gap in the curtain. The security guard in their stark black uniform was still solidly in the way, head bobbing, eyes transfixed to the runway. Vera's nerves rattled like a box of pins, both the thrill of being at a fashion show again and anxiety over their scheme.
Lights flashed over the catwalk, then fixated on the entrance. The crowd stirred, murmured. And as the beat dropped in the song, the first model strutted out, head high, wearing a long, bright yellow coat over a hot pink romper. The look made Vera's eyes water. She loved it.
Beside them, the curtains rippled, and the model Cove slipped out. They exchanged a nod with the security guard and Vera stiffened. But a wicked grin curved Cove's silver-painted lips.
Checking that the security guard had turned back to the show, they wrapped a hand through Jay's elbow. They laid a finger to their lips and bent down to whisper something to him. He grinned and nodded, whispering something in reply. Cove brushed a kiss against his cheek and Vera's eyebrows crept up into her hair.
Straightening, Cove smoothed their shirt, then sauntered up beside the security guard to strike up a conversation. The model gestured to the runway, and the guard nodded along. The two of them were still blocking the entrance.
Vera's heel tapped furiously against the floor. Jay inched towards the entrance, his eyes never leaving Cove.
Four models paced the length of the catwalk and back while they waited. Vera couldn't enjoy the show as she thought she might explode with impatience.
Finally, Cove draped a friendly arm over the security guard's shoulders, and the two of them turned fully to face the show, their backs to Jay and Vera. The guard leaned left to see between two heads as a model wearing a skintight jumpsuit and mesh skirt in that same blinding yellow paced slowly down the runway.
The entrance was clear.
Jay gestured to Vera and stepped towards the gap in the curtains as though he belonged there. Vera tried to emulate his confident gait but after two steps found herself scurrying out of sight as fast as she could.
Once she had stepped through the entrance, she let out a long breath. That wasn't so hard. If she hadn't been so nervous about the operation she might have even said it was easy.
Backstage was even more chaotic than Marina's film set. Assistants dashed in every direction trying to finalize looks while makeup artists wielded brushes ferociously and designers micromanaged the last crucial details. By the stage stairs, a coordinator with a clipboard and headset called something; a gaggle of models began to stroll towards her, their designer furiously jabbing pins into the last dress with tears in his eyes.
Vera had tried not to dwell on the wish that she could show at this event, but standing now in the middle of it all she was struck with regret. She hadn't been part of a fashion show since she'd dropped out of school. Sure, she'd gone to that wedding show with Mora, but that didn't count. It hadn't been the same without a designer weeping over the one style that just hadn't come together. This pandemonium felt like home.
Someday she would be here, properly. Not sneaking around but with an invitation, a collection she'd put together, a pride of models all dressed in her looks. Her vision would walk down that runway.
But first, she had a leaker to expose.
"Cove said she's in the back corner," Jay said in a low voice, craning his neck to see through the commotion.
"I can't believe they helped us. They don't even know me. Remind me again how you two met?"
He gave her a wide-eyed look. "A gentleman never reveals his secrets."
Vera nodded sagely. "Got it. You somehow managed to meet one of the hottest models in the world on a hookup app. If I hadn't met Sharise I would be begging for your secrets, I hope you know."
"I plead the fifth."
They wove between mirrors and clothing racks and soon Vera spotted Lily gluing palm-tree shaped confetti to a model's lips. She respected the designer who made that bold choice, even if the drug-fueled tropical vacation vibe it created was a little tacky.
Ducking between a garbage can and a stack of chairs, they lurked half-hidden and watched her work.
"She looks like shit," Jay muttered.
It was true: Lily looked frazzled, her hair a frizzy mess and lips fixed in a grumpy frown as she moved from one model to the next down the line.
"Should we try to get her alone?"
"Probably. I doubt she'd confess in front of all these people."
At last all her models' lips had been confettied, and Lily stepped back. She twisted her spine around in a stretch, then started down the row. Vera waited until she turned into the hallway under the bathroom sign, then stepped out to follow her.
At that same moment, Carmen and Marina appeared at the top of the stage stairs and started down them - coming directly towards Vera and Jay.
With a squeak, she turned around and smacked straight into him.
"What the fu-"
"Carmen," Vera whisper-screamed, ducking behind his shoulders. "I can't risk her kicking me out before Lily confesses." She had never been so glad to be a short person in a room of towering models in her life.
Jay looked at Carmen, then back at the bathroom hallway where Lily had vanished. He set his shoulders.
"I'll distract them. You talk to Lily."
"But she's your ex."
"Girl, she's not my ex. We were never actually dating. Besides, you're the one who needs to clear her name," he pointed out. "Or are you chickening out?"
Vera couldn't argue with that.
She watched him as he started towards the actors, slipping between the manic designers and waiting models. Then she shook herself. He would be fine, but she might not have much time before she was discovered.
She dashed after Lily.
The hallway under the bathroom sign was empty. There were two single-occupant bathrooms. One had a red lock symbol lit up beside the handle. Vera didn't want to chase Lily right in there, anyway. That was some stalker shit.
Pulling out her phone, she prepared to record their conversation. She hoped the backstage commotion and the thudding dance music wouldn't ruin the audio. If she couldn't get proof to show Carmen, this would all be a waste of time.
A model turned into the hallway, then hesitated. "Are you waiting?"
Pretending to be busy on her phone, Vera shook her head. "Go ahead."
The model stepped into the second bathroom and locked the door.
A minute later Lily came out the other door, smoothing her frizzy hair with one hand.
Vera jammed her phone back into her purse. Lily walked right past her without even noticing. Rude.
She took a step into the middle of the hallway and plastered on a huge smile. "Hey, Lily."
Lily spun around. Thin lips pressed into a wary line.
"Wow, didn't expect to see you here." It sounded fake even to Vera's ears. She stepped closer, hoping her phone was getting this.
Crossing her arms, Lily looked her up and down. "What are you doing here? You're not part of this show."
Vera let the smile drop. Lily was too on edge to be tricked into confessing. Looking her in the face made all her twisty plans seem stupid, anyway. Probably best to be direct.
"I think you know who leaked those photos from Venice," she said, bluntly.
Lily's hands twitched. She narrowed her eyes. "Why would I know that?"
"Because no one else wanted to fuck Carmen over as much as you did."
"Are you kidding? Carmen Juarez is a grade-A bitch. There are tons of people who would love for her to get what she deserves. Like Troy Dicks, who sent her those amazing flowers and ended up bleeding and looking like a fool at the yacht party."
It was probably pointless to tell her that the flowers had been a mixup, or that Troy had instigated the events on the yacht. "Troy Dicks wasn't invited to her afterparty in Venice. But you were, thanks to me and Jay. And then you ghosted. Didn't you expect us to be suspicious?"
"You assholes never even noticed when I was there," Lily said, lips twisting sullenly. "Why would you notice when I was gone?"
The second bathroom door opened, and they both shut their mouths. The model stopped in the doorway, looking back and forth between them. Their faces must have been murderous, because the model went scarlet.
"Uh, don't mind me," they muttered, hurrying past. "I'm just here for the paycheck. I don't want any drama."
When they were alone again, Vera stepped forward and jabbed a finger into Lily's chest. She didn't have any more time to waste. "You leaked those photos, Lily. Admit it."
Her face hardened. "Fuck you, Vera. You all treated me like shit. I've worked with Jay for two years and Carmen didn't even know my name."
A small twinge of sympathy pulled in Vera's chest. "Why didn't you just say something? Or, you know, quit?"
"I did say something. None of you noticed. All your gossip and scheming was more important to you."
"Look, I'm sorry," Vera said, and she was only a little surprised to find she meant it. "I guess we were sorta dicks to you. And I shouldn't have blamed you for pushing me into the canal in Venice. But Carmen and Marina didn't deserve what you did to them."
That was apparently too much for Lily. "I didn't do anything thousands of paparazzi haven't done before."
"You're using the paparazzi as the measure of ethics?" Vera said incredulously. "You signed an NDA, Lily."
She scoffed loudly and threw her hands in the air. "Oh, come on. Why should I apologize for being selfish? The rest of you don't. I got paid a lot of money for those shots. Not that I get why so many people are interested in seeing two famous assholes kissing. It's not like being queer is even cool anymore. It's like, the least interesting personality trait."
"What the fuck?"
Before Vera could do more than sputter, Lily plowed on. Now that she'd started, her words tumbled out like a waterfall, like she'd been waiting for someone to ask - like maybe she wanted to brag a little about what she'd done. "You can't make me feel guilty about it. You made Carmen walk down a red carpet wearing her own goddamn period blood. How is a little kissing any worse than that? Those photos only made Carmen and Marina more popular. Do you think this fashion show would've sold out as fast as it did if every gossip site wasn't devoting thousands of words to their stupid relationship every day? They should be thanking me."
"Listen to that," someone at the end of the hallway said, voice a sticky sweet drawl. "This bitch thinks she did me a favor. Isn't that cute?"
Lily spun around, horror lighting up her face.
Carmen fucking Juarez stepped out from behind the corner, a perfectly sadistic smile curling her lips. She must have heard every word of Lily's confession.
Which was really fucking lucky, because when Vera pulled out her phone, she realized she'd forgotten to hit record.