Chapter Four

“Oh good, you’re back,” BamBam called over her shoulder as I walked into our room. “How was the pool?”

Ethan’s words floated back to me. No one will recognize us.

“Uh, you know.” I plugged my laptop in to charge before answering so she couldn’t see the trepidation on my face. “Fine until Nittha got us kicked out for bringing Cricket to the pool.”

“Shoulda seen that one coming.” BamBam laughed. “Bringing a dog to the pool. I’ll bet it was in a swimsuit, too.”

“It was. And they matched.”

“Nittha is always getting into something. That girl cracks me up.”

“Also, I saw Sterling James. I didn’t talk to him, but I talked to someone who knows him.

It sounds like you two might have something in common,” I said, sidestepping the name of my informant.

I didn’t like to lie to BamBam, but sometimes a lie by omission was necessary for self-preservation’s sake.

To BamBam, loyalty was everything. She once gave my dad the cold shoulder for a week for mentioning my late grandfather’s funky feet in public.

Me being in close proximity to anything Buzzy-related would crush her.

Better to tell a little lie and keep my grandma speaking to me than break her heart over one random conversation.

“Hmm. He uses a lot of glitter, which isn’t really my thing.

” BamBam paused, her face pensive. Shrugging, she stood up.

In one hand, she held her toiletry kit. In the other, her favorite snuggly blue bathrobe.

“Then again, your grandma can learn new tricks. See if you can talk to him tonight and let me know if he seems interested in collaborating. I’m gonna go get in the shower and then get ready for the reception. ”

“Alright.” I yawned and flopped onto my bed, suddenly jealous of her nap.

As if reading my mind, she said, “If you want to get some sleep, I’ll wake you up when I’m out of the shower and lotioned. Then we can talk strategy while we put our faces on.”

“Thank you.” I smiled. BamBam still called doing your makeup “putting on a face.” At this stage, I was pretty sure she was using the expression because she knew my siblings and I poked fun at it.

No sooner had my head hit the pillow than it felt like BamBam was gently shaking me awake. Groaning, I cracked one eye open to see my grandmother in her pink leopard-print shower cap hovering over me. “Baby, time to go get cleaned up.”

“A few more minutes.”

I tried to roll over, but BamBam’s firm hand on my shoulder stopped me. “You’ve been asleep for forty-five minutes. Up and at ’em.”

I made a sound in response that could only be described as somewhere between mhurg and the pterodactyl noises my baby cousins make in place of speaking.

“Let’s go, kiddo. No more lollygagging.” BamBam shook me less gently this time.

I tried to swat her hand away but had no luck. She didn’t stop rocking me until I sat up, pushing flyaway hairs out of my face. “I’m up. I’m up.”

“Finally,” BamBam said, giving me just enough space to get up without leaving me room to lie back down. As I shuffled toward my suitcase to find my shower stuff, she started talking like my brain wasn’t still trying to power up. “So, how do you want to cover the Silver Influencers panel tomorrow?”

“Mmm…Who is on it?” I asked, mostly to give myself time to think. I wanted to try something new, to challenge myself filming-wise.

“You know, they were supposed to send me an email, but I didn’t see one come through…” She trailed off as she settled herself in front of the mirror that hung above the desk and flipped on the nearby lamp for extra light. “I’m sure Gregory will be on it. He’s on all the panels these days.”

“Are the two of you still going to that show?” I asked.

“You know it.” BamBam chuckled. She and Gregory were friends from way back in her early video days.

He was a retired sociology professor with expertise in the history of drag culture.

The man could find a way to link literally anything to drag queens—slang, Disney villains, pop-star stage aesthetics, even the repopularizing of sequins.

If it existed in the broader culture, Gregory knew where it existed in drag history first and why we were seeing it now.

Mysteriously, BamBam had announced that she and Gregory were going to a show, but she wouldn’t say what it was about.

Dad thought it was drag; Mom thought it was magic; my older sister was convinced it was some concert that was so expensive, she didn’t want to buy me a ticket; while my older brother thought they were going to watch a raunchy comedian.

My money was on Chippendales or Magic Mike.

The super popular, campy strip shows were often set to disco songs and therefore the perfect nexus of BamBam’s and Gregory’s interests.

BamBam smiled as she put on her moisturizer. “So, what about the video?”

“Let me think about it in the shower,” I said, already halfway to the bathroom.

By the time I’d finished washing my sunscreen off, I had a plan.

It was totally different from what people would expect from her page.

For it to work, I’d have to try a couple new things, starting with borrowing some lighting from Nittha and relying on BamBam’s questionable camera skills.

But if I was right, her audience would love it.

And if they loved it enough, there might be a new sponsorship opportunity in her future.

“I got it!” I shouted as I opened the bathroom door, steam from the shower billowing out. BamBam jumped with surprise, smudging her eyeliner slightly.

“Got what?” She tutted and picked up a cotton swab to fix the wobbly line on her eye.

“An idea for how to shoot the panel.” I busted out of the bathroom still in my towel and shower cap.

If I were at home, Mom and Dad would have told me to stop dripping everywhere.

Then again, if we were at home, Mom and Dad would have thought this idea was a bad one, so whatever. “Actually, the whole trip, really.”

“Okay, let’s hear it. What are you gonna do with a fashion grannie in Vegas?”

“That’s the thing. We are gonna do what anyone does in Vegas.

I feel like it’s a three-part day-in-the-life series, including a get-ready-with-me where people watch how you put on your makeup and pick out an outfit to go onstage, panel highlights, and then a go-out-with-me video where people see you having fun with your friends and whatnot.

We can connect them thematically by using the hotel’s mirrored hallways so your plans feel extra glam.

Imagine, every time you walk through one, we blend the transition from one event to the next.

Gregory could do it, too, and the two of you could cross post.”

“Okay…” BamBam drew out the vowels in the word as she thought. “Ripping and running around town isn’t really my brand. Would my audience really care about me playing pai gow or going to dinner? What about something like a watch-me-try-lipsticks?”

“That’s the thing. It’s the perfect time to test out new content, because everyone knows you’re on a trip, and the Vegas videos will stop soon if they hate it.

Besides, you can do both. The resort is basically a giant mall.

We can film a lipstick-wear test at midnight if we want.

” I shrugged and hoped the argument would work.

I’d always wanted to try filming a person moving around in mirrors like in Enter the Dragon.

It was notoriously difficult to film without the audience seeing the camera and breaking the fourth wall.

While I wasn’t about to build a mirrored hallway back in Chicago, Las Vegas was full of them.

Even filming BamBam getting into the elevator without the audience seeing me or my camera would be tricky, but I’d always wanted to try and pay homage to the classic.

“Plus, this fits the goal to expand your range, show brands that you can do more than apply eyeliner or pick the perfect dress. You can travel, go dancing, review restaurants, and have fun just like the young people with all the sponsors. Think about it, BamBam.”

She nodded. “Alright. But going out in this city? Old people play slots all the time. That’s not special.”

“It is if you are having fun with other older people! Plus, you’re the cool, well-dressed grandma everyone wishes they had.

People like your version of retirement. It’s inspiring and relatable.

Why not grow that beyond makeup?” I grinned, trying not to look too smug as I tied my pitch up in a neat little bow.

A smile crept across her face, and I knew then that BamBam was going to agree. “Alright. Let’s try it. What’s the worst that happens?”

“Yes!” I started bouncing on the balls of my feet and clapping like I was a cheerleader at a football game.

“You know, your folks sending you to those business camps is really paying off. That was a good little pitch.”

BamBam chuckled, and I felt my mind split in two.

I guess I did have two years of SISU business camp to thank for the power of persuasion.

And on the one hand, I was excited that she liked my idea.

On the other, it made me nervous. What if my parents were right and the skill that I had was less about entertaining people and more about the ability to sell something?

The idea that my parents might have a point scared me, and I pushed the thought away before it could do any more damage to my enthusiasm.

Looking at BamBam, I said, “I need to borrow some gear, but I’m sure Nittha will have it, and—”

“I’m sure you do, baby. But you’ll have to grab it later.

We need to get going, or we will be the last people to get to the reception.

” BamBam checked her phone clock. We had plenty of time, but to BamBam, the difference between fashionably late and just plain rude was about five minutes in either direction.

Smiling back at me, she said, “What are you gonna wear? And I still plan to help you put on your face, so we have to hurry.”

“Who cares what I look like? I’m behind the scenes, remember?”

“Being behind a camera is no excuse to disappear.” BamBam shrugged and picked up her dark-brown eyebrow pencil.

Ouch. What was with everyone today? Just because I wasn’t out there in flashing lights didn’t mean that I was hiding. I wanted to let my work speak for itself. And it would, when it was good enough.

“I’m not disappearing. I’m letting my work do the talking.”

BamBam snorted as if this was the most ridiculous thing she’d heard all week. “Well, you gotta take credit for the videos if you want your work to speak.”

Okay, that part I didn’t have an argument for. Yet. “I’m not—”

BamBam arched an eyebrow, as if daring me to come up with an explanation that she couldn’t put holes in.

I shut my mouth. A few heartbeats later, her face relaxed into a smile.

“Plus, if I’m gonna start doing going-out videos, I’ve got to practice going-out makeup.

Who knows? Maybe you’ll like those videos enough to put your name on them?

Or at least let me say ‘videos by my grandbaby’ in my bios, like the other granfluencers. Gregory brags about that all the time.”

“Fine. You can do my makeup.” I fought the urge to point out that Gregory was referencing his drag grandchildren, of which he had half a dozen, so of course he was constantly praising and working with them.

His biological grandkid was nine and therefore not helping with anything, unlike me.

I sighed and added, “But only because you need to practice. And I’m picking my own outfit.

I’m on vacation from any and all dress codes, too. ”

“You are gonna be so cute!” BamBam said, jumping up from her chair and pulling me toward my suitcase. “I won’t tell you what to wear, but let’s see what you’ve got in here.”

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