21 Celeste
T he last thing Celeste expects on the second-to-last day of the year is a phone call from Gemma. Lately, she and her ex have only ever communicated through email or KakaoTalk. Although they converse in person just fine—or as well as they can, given the circumstances—the sheer concept of talking with her ex on the phone is so daunting she lets it ring all the way to voicemail before calling her back.
She doesn’t know what to expect when Gemma picks up, but her ex’s retelling of all the drama surrounding a company party holds her captivated. Celeste enjoys being her own boss, but the one thing she misses about working at an office is all the drama and politics. She loves being able to hear about everything without being directly involved.
Celeste can’t remember the last time she and Gemma talked on the phone like this, but it surprisingly feels…
normal. It of course isn’t as natural as talking to her actual friends, but it’s not as bad as she thought it would be.
“Let me get this straight,” Celeste says when Gemma finishes her story. “Your ex-fiancé told you to not come to the party so he can go to it with his new girlfriend? What an asshole. Men really are the worst.”
“Yeah…” Gemma replies. “And I know it wasn’t my place to say this, but the only way I could think of telling him off was by saying I’m attending with a date.”
Celeste lets her ex’s words sink in for a beat. And then another. “And I’m assuming that’s where I come in?”
“Yup. Again, no worries at all if you don’t want to. I just said it to piss him off—”
“I’ll come,” Celeste cuts in. There’s something very tantalizing about the chance to see for herself the person who dared to replace her in Gemma’s life. The work aspect is another huge perk, which Gemma had mentioned in her account. “It’ll be good for the project if we went together, right? Why don’t we kill two birds with one stone? Piss off your ex-fiancé and secure our chances of a cover story. I want this cover, Gem. It’ll be my very first one.”
Gemma groans. “Your Gemini and Capricorn placements are showing.”
Celeste is taken aback by the random segue. When her brain catches up, she asks, “You remember my signs?”
Gemma sighs dramatically. “Gemini Sun, Capricorn Moon, and Scorpio Rising. But also, Gemini Venus and Virgo Mars. Basically, a hot workaholic who loves drama but hates emotions.”
A surprised laugh escapes from Celeste’s mouth. “Gem,” she says. “And what are you… a Pisces?”
Astrology is a common gay pastime, and many of Celeste’s queer friends—especially the ones who live in LA—are deeply involved in it, sometimes even using things like astrocartography to determine where to travel or relocate. Meanwhile, she herself always has trouble remembering the different signs and who is what.
“Yup,” Gemma says with another loud sigh. “Pisces Sun, Taurus Moon, and Cancer Rising. With a Leo Mars and Aquarius Venus at that. Basically, a stubborn ball of water that loves people a bit too much.”
“I don’t know that much about astrology, but I know enough to know that I love your Big Three. I have friends with some of the exact same placements. So adorable.”
“Even if it makes me a stubborn ball of emotions?”
“A cute ball of emotions.” The moment she says it, Celeste bites her lip. Somehow, they’ve gotten dangerously close to flirting.
Gemma clears her throat. “Anyway, I have to go. I’ll text you the information about the party. Thanks for agreeing to do this last minute. And for listening to me vent.”
“Great,” Celeste says. She does her best to switch gears so her tone is once again clipped and professional. “And you’re welcome. See you.”
She hangs up, hoping she didn’t make a huge mistake.