Chapter Five
“See what a bit of mascara can do?” BamBam beamed over at me as I checked my appearance in the elevator’s mirrored walls.
She laughed and came to stand next to me, pulling out her phone and striking a pose so the two of us could take a picture.
Holding out the phone, she said, “Your parents will love this.”
“Nice work.” I smiled up at her. She was getting better at doing stuff like not taking photos at bizarre upward angles, which was good. It meant I wouldn’t have to worry about her as much when I went to college next year.
“I love that dress on you, BamBam.”
“I look good, right? I do wish they had it in pink or something, but the black is alright.” BamBam grinned, giving the calf-length, form-fitting beaded dress a shimmy.
It had modern flapper vibes, which BamBam played up with a cute little headband and long pearl necklaces.
“I still can’t believe Lady and House sent me something from next season’s collection.
I feel like I’m officially a celebrity. My wardrobe is ahead of the trend. ”
“I can. Lady and House knows you’re a badass.” I smiled. “I’d want to give you early access, too.”
The elevator dinged right as BamBam reached out to give me a quick hug and a kiss on the side of my head. Keeping her arm wrapped around my shoulders, she steered us off the elevator, smoothing my carefully revived curls back into place as the sound of a party in full swing washed over us.
“Hello,” said a broad-shouldered bouncer with an extremely slick ponytail and an even slicker suit. “Welcome to the TrendCon mixer. I’ll need your names, please.”
“Of course. I’m Eugenia Webb from Ms. Mini’s Makeup Counter, and this is my assistant, Jamie,” BamBam said, instantly flipping into Mini’s honied voice.
I knew why BamBam called me her assistant.
Saying director or producer would’ve seemed ridiculous.
After all, what seventeen-year-old was a director?
Still, the title irked me. BamBam kept her own calendar, answered her own emails, and got her own coffee.
Usually. Okay, sometimes I got coffee, too, but that wasn’t my main job and she knew it.
“Right.” The bouncer began tapping away on a tablet, not missing a beat. After a few more taps, they said, “Here you are. Thank you both for joining us. If you could hold out your right wrist, please.
“This one will let you order alcohol at the bar if you would like,” the bouncer said, snapping a bright-orange bracelet around BamBam’s wrist. Taking my wrist, they snapped a dark-green band on it, then scowled at me. “And this one will only get you a Coke. Don’t even try to swap. Got it?”
A tiny part of me thought about pointing out that I was with my grandma, and as a compulsive rule follower, there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in the desert that I was ever going to try swapping, but then I realized that the bouncer was big enough to tear me in half and thought the better of talking back.
I nodded. “Got it.”
The bouncer’s face relaxed again. “Alright, you two have fun. Don’t forget to pick up your VIP goody bags on the way out.”
“Thank you,” BamBam and I said at the same time. Glancing at each other, we giggled as we walked past the bouncer and around the corner, then froze.
“Oh wow.” My voice felt small next to the view from the roof. The city spread out in front of us, sparkling like stars in a clear sky. The lights from The Strip gave the night an endless quality, making everything feel limitless and full of possibilities. It was stunning.
“That is something else.” BamBam whistled low. Peering down at me, she winked, then squeezed my hand. “Come on, kiddo, let’s have some fun.”
With that, we stepped into the party. A DJ was situated on one side of the terrace, lit up by a bunch of blue and purple lights. On the other side was the bar. In between was the pool, also lit up with blue lights and surrounded by white couches and red chairs that wobbled like eggs.
“There’s Myra. Let’s go say hello.” BamBam waved at a woman with streaked black-and-gray hair. I’d never met Myra, but I knew she reviewed BamBam’s contracts. Listening to a conversation between the two of them sounded about as interesting as watching paint dry.
“Actually, if it’s okay, I want to look for Sterling and ask Nittha to borrow her lights.”
“Alright, but don’t leave the party without telling me.”
“Say hi to Myra for me.”
BamBam nodded, then headed off toward her friend, leaving me to try to find mine. I was about to go check over by the bar, when I spotted a group of people about my age huddled around one corner of the pool. A few feet from the larger group was Nittha, talking about a mile a minute to Gabby.
“Hey,” I said as soon as I was within earshot.
“You look gorg.” Nittha gestured at me.
“All cutesy in that dress.” Gabby grinned.
“Thanks, it has pockets, and it’s stretchy.” I smiled and jumped into a split stance so they could see what I meant. The dress hugged my body, but it felt more like sweats than something I couldn’t sit down in. “It’s basically the only fancy-ish thing I brought.”
“Love a dress with pockets.” Nittha giggled, then added, “There are more parties, by the way, so if you seriously didn’t bring anything else, get ready to go shopping in Gabby’s suitcase. She packed enough for three weeks.”
“Only enough for two and a half weeks.” Gabby laughed as if the convention being six days had been a minor consideration in her packing plans. “And it’s good you look stunning, because the boyfriend Nittha insists you have just walked in.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Tell Ethan that.” Nittha nodded toward the elevators. “He and his grandma are right there.”
I shifted in the direction of the elevator bank in time to see Ethan and Buzzy entering the party. My heart stopped.
Ethan wasn’t wearing anything particularly special, just jeans and a plain black collared shirt. In fact, the outfit wouldn’t have been remarkable at all if it didn’t fit him so well. Unfortunately, Ethan wasn’t why I was breaking out into a sweat right now.
Buzzy was wearing the same dress as BamBam.
“Oh no.”
“Don’t want to see him?” Gabby teased.
“No, that’s not why—” I shook my head, then tried again when Gabby raised an eyebrow. “His grandma and my grandma are wearing the same dress. How did she even get that dress? It was supposed to be for BamBam. It’s next season.”
“Oh, that is bad.” Nittha’s eyes went wide.
“What’s the deal with them anyway?” Gabby furrowed her brow as she tried to keep up with the glances Nittha and I were exchanging.
“They used to be part of a shared channel when they were first starting out. I think it was just poorly organized, but basically my grandma and Buzzy seemed to have too similar of content. Since BamBam posted on Tuesdays and Buzzy on Fridays, BamBam decided Buzzy was a no-talent copycat who pretended to be her friend but was actually re-creating all her videos for her white-lady, sweater-sets-and-pearls crowd. I’ve never asked her personally, but based on what her followers say in BamBam’s comments, Buzzy probably thinks my grandma is a bougie bossy-pants who has deluded herself into thinking she invented fashion. ”
“That is a very specific feud.” Gabby snort-laughed.
“It sounds funny, but you didn’t see them on the plane.” I frowned.
“And then there is you and Ethan. He’s a handsome grandson pining away for the granddaughter of a rival family and trying to find ways to be with her, like Romeo did Juliet,” Nittha added unhelpfully.
“None of that is true. He only wants to be friends.”
“Why, if your grandmas are beefing like that?” Gabby asked.
“I don’t know,” I said, throwing Nittha a don’t-try-it look.
Nittha smirked. “Doesn’t matter now—your friend is walking toward us.”
“What?” I tried to position myself behind Gabby. “Maybe he won’t see us.”
Nittha waved at him, then smiled at me as he waved back. “Bad news. He sees you.”
“Because you signaled him,” I hissed, heat creeping up the back of my neck as he got closer.
“Pretty sure he saw you before.” Nittha laughed.
“You might be on your own.” Gabby snickered, leaning away. “Maybe I’ll get popcorn and watch this mess—”
“Hey, Ethan.”
Gabby, Nittha, and I all jumped as a short white girl with a chin-length bob and perfectly applied winged eyeliner detached herself from the group of kids close to the pool and planted herself firmly in front of Ethan.
“Who is that?” Gabby said, sounding unreasonably offended that anyone would interrupt the potential train wreck she’d been waiting for.
“Emmie Kristoff,” Nittha breathed, as if that name would mean anything to Gabby or me. It didn’t. Still watching, Nittha’s eyes went wide as Ethan’s face sank. “I can’t believe she’s here. And talking to him.”
“Again, who is that?” I asked, echoing Gabby before I could stop myself. I was not supposed to be interested in Ethan or his life. And I was definitely not supposed to care about anyone who put their hand on his arm in a way that implied comfort or familiarity, which Emmie was currently doing.
“She started out as a super popular BookToker, but she’s branched out. Like posting about handbags, makeup, travel, you name it—she markets it all now.” Nittha shot me a smug expression. Apparently, my interest had not gone unnoticed. “She’s also Ethan’s ex.”
I wanted to look away but couldn’t. Whatever Emmie had said, Ethan didn’t appear happy. If anything, it seemed like talking to her was draining his battery.
“So, what happened with them?” Gabby half whispered.
“I don’t know all the details yet, but I know they broke up because she cheated on him, and the internet is upset.”