“Yo B!” came a voice from a car that pulled over a few feet from where I stood on the curb sending another text to Carson.
Peering into the car I instantly recognized Bill from the heavy gold chains around his neck.
Bling Bill was what the magazines called him. He was a genius at marketing and could make any singer go platinum in months.
He was mostly into managing singers but he recently decided to spread into DJs and I was his pet project in the area.
“Hi Billy,” I greeted, offering him a smile.
“Don't call me that. Come on, get in, we don't want to keep the host waiting.”
I checked my phone and saw it was just 6. “I thought it was starting by eight?”
“Eight, nine, ten thirty, don't you still need a ride to the damn place?”
“Fine, fine,” I huffed as I opened the door and slid into the seat. I noticed it wasn't as soft as Carson's and instead of the sophisticated pine smell that lived in all of Carson's cars Bill's smelled like alcohol and greasy fat.
My stomach churned at the familiar stench of stale liquor and I hurried to distract myself from the memories that spewed.
“So how's the venue?” I asked as Bill pulled away from the brightly lit four-star hotel.
“They're setting up the equipment as we speak. You're gonna make it lit as usual, B.”
“Three days for a wrap party? Seems a little excessive to me.”
He shrugged one shoulder. “Rich people are different creatures man, they play by their own rules. Besides, Nick and July are tying up loose ends in Jamaica. They won't be back until tomorrow, even then they'd probably be jet-lagged so they won't be able to attend until Thursday.”
“Oh,” was all I said.
That made sense.
“But tonight, oh! We are going to have ourselves a mighty . . .”
I stopped listening as my phone vibrated with an incoming text.
It was a reply from Carson and the corners of my mouth tugged upward as was beginning to be the custom anytime I thought of him.
After our talk at the gallery last night we got in the car and suddenly feeling a thousand times lighter I closed my eyes for a minute. I had no idea I fell asleep until I woke up a few hours later, Carson's leather jacket around me and found out we were already in Orlando.
He'd stopped at a gas station to refuel but Carson himself was nowhere to be found.
I later found him at the back of the mini mart puking his guts out. Right there, bent over a decrepit trash can, one hand clutching his stomach, he looked completely emasculated and vulnerable and I still found him supremely attractive.
I wondered how I would ever go back to working in a professional setting with him without the urge to throw him against the wall and kiss the living daylights out of him completely overpowering me.
Not wanting to interfere, I had walked gently back to the car.
Now, staring at his text, my heart rate picked up even though he was no where in sight. That was the power of Carson Miller.
He had told me he would be late seeing me because he was stuck with some unexpected work that the idiots under his employ at the Miller Inc. branch here couldn't handle without his fucking help. His words not mine.
Seeing as I hadn't told him the details of the party I wasn't expecting him to be there. Even if I did invite him I was ninety percent sure he would've still cooked up something to avoid the party completely. For someone who was constantly in the tabloids he was not much of a social butterfly.
I turned off my phone and returned to what Bill was going on about.
It would be a boring couple of hours without Carson but I couldn't wait to get to the music.
“. . . and after this the sky's the freaking limit, B! I looked at it before I got here and it turns out you only have like a month left before your contract runs out. Don't worry, I'll get the legal guys right on it.”
“Actually,” I stopped him before he could go off on another one of his spiels.
Bill turned to me, a street lamp momentarily illuminating the sentence he had tatooed on his neck.
“I was going to think about the possibility of not signing another contract.”
For the first time since the two years I'd known him Bill looked lost for words.
“Why? I thought we was ok?”
“We are,” I rushed to assure him. “We really are, I just . . .” I hesitated.
I had no idea how to put the uncertainty I felt into words. I didn't have any idea how I was suddenly doubting my skills in the one area where I excelled.
All I knew was that I was slowly straying away from the real reason I became a DJ: to provide everyone with good music and an escape from their lives for at least one night.
Now it seemed like I was playing more and more for rich people and their spawns. Rich people who, might I add, were too busy drumming up deals and contracts and socializing amongst themselves to enjoy or appreciate the music.
“I appreciate everything you've done for me, truly, but I think I need a break to reevaluate my priorities. It has nothing to do with your managerial skills.”
Bill was silent for a while and I worried that I'd hurt his feelings.
“Bill . . .”
“It's fine, B. I'm just a little disappointed, you know. You'd be the first one to quit on me, but that's fine.”
“I hope we're good though?” I asked as I watched him work his jaw. “I didn't mean to . . .”
“We are. Everyone's got shit they need to deal with and I understand that. Like I said, it's fine. Let's just not let this screw up tonight, ok?”
I nodded.
Looks like someone's ego is bruised.
It was silent in the car with only the purr of the car punctuating it.
I couldn't help but feel responsible for the icy atmosphere in the car. I didn't know why I didn't just shut my big mouth. Bill had been nothing but helpful since I met him and I felt horrible that this was how I chose to repay him.
I hadn't noticed that we stopped until Bill's honk interrupted my train of thought.
It was then that I saw we'd stopped before two massive iron gates protecting the entrance to an equally massive, well-lit mansion.
With a loud beep the gates swung open. Due to their size it took a while for them to fully open so I took my time drinking in the splendor of the surroundings.
The entire grounds were covered with shrubs manicured to within an inch of their lives. Fountains could be seen from even out way out here spouting water musically through elegant statues.
“Woah,” was the only thing I could utter.
“Woah is right,” Bill concurred. “So heads up there's going to be a couple of speechs interrupting the flow,” he started as he drove up the winding driveway that led to the mansion that was presently completely bathed in strong floodlights.
“And where will you be most of the night?” I asked even though I already knew the answer.
“Drinking of course. It goes without saying that I would not be the best option for a ride back to the hotel,” and then he laughed like it was no big deal.
I had learnt a long time ago that people did not share the same sentiments about alcohol that I did but it didn't stop the slight twinge of hatred and panic that erupted in my belly when someone off-handedly mentioned getting drunk.
Did they not realize that they were slowly killing themselves?
“Of course,” I replied, deciding to mind my business and biting my tongue on the words of caution that almost flew out. As much as I cared about him I had to remind myself that it wasn't my job to take care of Bill.
Bill drew to a stop in front of a waiting valet.
I checked my phone and found we were a whole hour early. With a heavy sigh I opened the door and got out.
Adjusting the short rainbow dress I chose for this occasion so it would cover a little bit more of my thighs, I gripped my clutch purse and left Bill talking with the valet.
I started up the stairs into the house, my heels clicking on the stone.
I'd worn the beautiful heels that Carson had had gifted me and even though I'd already broken them in I was surprised at how it felt like a natural extension of my legs.
Entering through the huge arched door, I was greeted by a finely decorated foyer that had workers moving in and out in their crisp black-and-white uniforms, going about setting up for the party.
The tiled marble floor reflected the light from the enormous crystal chandelier balanced prettily above. Twin staircases decorated with garland started on both sides of the foyer and ended on the second floor.
Stepping through the hullabaloo of preparation I ascended the stairs to look for something to occupy me till I was needed. The blood red runner absorbed the sound of my feet even though it was unnecessary since they were drowned out anyway by the noise around.
The further I walked the further the noise disappeared until it was only my breathing and the humming of the light bulbs above me.
I was now in a long, lavishly decorated hallway staring at my reflection on a hallway mirror.
The more I looked at myself — with a feathery black mask and the most demure shade of blue I could find for my hair — the more I found I couldn't recognize myself.
I had to remind myself that that was what I was going for with all of this but now I was looking at myself objectively I realized that I didn't want to be this person forever. The person that hides behind dyes and contact lenses and music because it was easier than going through the world unprotected.
My phone vibrated in my purse and thankfully that stopped the sting of the self-pity tears.
It took me three tries before I could get my clutch open because my hands were shaking and it was a bit hard to see through the blur of tears.
The caller ID showed it was my mom and I was both relieved and saddened.
I pressed the green button and picked the call.
“Hey mom,” I greeted hating the way my voice cracked at the last word.
“Hey Sandy baby, how are you?”
“Not good mom. I'm having a major identity crisis and I miss you,” I snifled and drew my hand across my nose.
“Oh Sandy! This isn't about what I said yesterday is it? Because I didn't mean to upset you.”
“No mom, you were right. I can't keep this up forever. I guess I didn't want to admit I'm not ready to be Alex full-time.”
“Baby,” my mom started.
“I'm ok, mom. Truly. I just need to finish these three days and think if I still want to keep this up. So, on to other matters, how are you?”
Her chuckle was drowned out by the cackle of a loudspeaker.
“Are you still at work? I thought you had Tuesday's off?” I asked as I took our conversation into an empty room.
Turning on a lamp I found it was some kind of study. The one with a table and bookshelves made of expensive, lustrous wood and books with golden spines that the light winked off. From the look of this one I doubt it had ever been used.
I sat behind the desk and propped my feet on the table, admiring the way the tufts of feathers on my shoe flew about in the slight wind.
“I do,” I finally noticed the weary tone of my mother's voice and my heart sank. “I just figured I'd take the night shift because there's no one at home. And before you ask, I took Morgan to Bessie's. He's being looked after.”
“That's great mom, but I'm worried about you. You should get some sleep, you sound tired.”
“I will, Sandy, I will. Take care baby, I'll talk to you tomorrow. Try to eat healthy and remember to use protection.”
“Jesus mom!”
I cut the call on my mother's laughter.
Pretty soon I was bored. It was still thirty minutes to the party but I knew that people would've already arrived. I wasn't in the mood to go down and socialize.
I was engrossed with the newest cookbook I'd downloaded and cooking up recipes when footsteps sounded out.
A quick glance at the time showed it was too early for a hapless drunk to find his way up here.
“Bathroom, bathroom, bathroom, where is it?” I heard a voice chant before the door to the study was pushed open.
A blonde man stuck his head in and looked around.
“I'll tell you one thing right now. This is not the bathroom.”
His green eyes widened when they landed on me.
“Oh hello! I had no idea anyone was up here,” he pushed the door wider and I saw he was inappropriately dressed in a sweater that clung to his biceps and worn out jeans.
“Yeah I'm hiding from the chaos. Forgive me but aren't you a little underdressed?”
He looked down at his clothes. “Yeah, I have no intention of joining them. I'm Frank by the way, I'm the costume designer.”
I didn't even think before I said, “I'm Alex, the DJ, and I need to get down there.”
I stood up and gathered my purse.
I hadn't meant to give my real name but a part of me was glad I did. It was tiring to keep up this charade and I just did not feel like starting it again with this stranger.
Walking around the desk I came to stand in front of Frank and immediately noticed two things.
First of all, he was really tall. Taller than me and very possibly the tallest person I'd ever encountered. Looking at him feel like staring up at a telephone pole.
Secondly, his eyes were so green it overpowered every other feature of his face by standing out so starkly against his tan skin.
“Alexandra, I presume?”
“You presume correctly.”
He folded his arms like he just won the lottery.
“It sounds so much prettier on a girl. I have a brother named Alexander you know, horrid pain in the butt.”
“You don't say,” I was strangely starting to enjoy this seemingly random conversation with this handsome stranger.
“I do, but you don't want to hear about me. I had no idea it was a masquerade they were organising?” He gestured toward my mask.
“Maybe if you had bothered to dress for it you could go down and check,” I teased with a raised eyebrow.
“Touché.”
“It has been fun but I should probably um . . .” I pointed to the door.
He caught on and nodded. “Yeah, you should and I should get back on my quest to find the bathroom. You wouldn't by any chance know in which direction I should be headed, do you?”
I shrugged. “This place is more maze than house.”
“Guess I'm on my own then. It was a pleasure to meet you, Alexandra, maybe some other time?”
“Sure.”
With an actual bow to me he disappeared into the darkness.
Shaking off the fact that he actually used my full name I walked out and found my way to the party. I was thankful for the chattering coming from the ballroom otherwise I'd have been lost.
I stood at the entrance taking in the sheer grandiosity of the entire ballroom. It was swathed in decorations in all shades of gold and balloons were peppered around the room. The stage was lit with strobe lights with a large banner across the back showing a poster of the movie with the words ‘It's a wrap!’.
The people moving around in groups — chandelier lights reflecting off glasses filled with drinks, diamonds on various necks and ears and expensive watches — couldn't care less that there was no music. The dancefloor was empty and for the first time ever I felt my anxiety clam my hands at the thought of stepping behind the turntable.
“Miss, we're ready for you,” came the smooth voice of a man that stepped next to me. He had a clipboard in his hand and a headset around his head. He looked like the event planner.
I nodded and a few seconds later found myself onstage, behind the harsh spotlight.
The second I put the headphones around my ears all my insecurities were gone, replaced by a heady exhilaration that knew no bounds.
“So, who's ready to get this party started?”