by Emma Savant
“I think you’re being smart,” Sadie said. “That would be a lot of pressure to put on a new relationship.”
Briana made an indignant noise, and I cut her off with a pointed “Thank you” in Sadie’s direction.
Calista fluffed my hair with her fingers and steered me toward the mirror. A slick, polished celebrity looked back at me. I’d never managed to pull off the flawless, airbrushed celeb look on my own before, even with the help of glamours. Calista had managed it without a single charm from me.
“Holy Tinkerbell,” I said.
The faint music of a new song floated up in the back of my mind, something about transformation and magic mirrors.
“This is the look he’s envisioning for your talk show appearance,” she said. “Maybe a little less fairy dust in the eyeshadow. You want me to change anything?”
“Absolutely not,” I said. “Can you make me look like this every day?”
She scoffed. “You won’t be saying that in a month or two. Once you start touring you’re going to be in my chair every afternoon. Go show Mr. Rumpel and then you can get back into your real clothes.”
Lyrics jostled around in my head as I walked. Reflection, direction, erection… Probably not that one. I could picture the performance, too—specifically for Glim audiences, glamours making quick shifts between the normal me and the different archetypes that lived as potential inside me.
Mari nodded her cool approval when she saw me and waved toward the open door of August’s office. He was sitting behind his desk, his dark eyes flicking back and forth as he read something on his computer screen.
I cleared my throat. August looked up, then stood and leaned across the desk to get a better look.
“Turn around,” he said.
I turned, careful not to trap the long hem of the dress under my heels.
“You’ll need to learn to walk in those,” he said.
“Yeah, they’re like four inches.”
“They do great things for your figure,” he said. “The dress is a wonderful choice. Tell Calista I approve.” He came out from behind the desk. “Raise your chin and turn your head from side to side for me.”
I obeyed, feeling like a robot mannequin in a shop window. He rubbed his hands together and nodded.
“This is splendid,” he said. He touched my arm, and the contact sent a pleasant frisson of warmth down my skin. “You’re gold, Dior. Pure gold.”
“I had an idea for a song,” I said. “For my next album, exploring the idea of inner and outer transformation.”
“That’ll be nice,” he said, but it was in the same tone of voice people used when talking to little kids who were going on about how they’d be dinosaurs when they grew up. “You might not want to spend too much energy worrying about new material, though. I’ve contracted with a talented up-and-coming songwriter to create some songs for you that have a little more commercial appeal.”
The warmth of his touch and my delight with my gown faded.
“I write my own songs,” I said. “I always write my own songs.”
“And you still can,” he said, smiling down at me. “Absolutely. You and Benedict can collaborate.”
“I don’t want a collaborator.”
“Just give him a chance,” he said. Comfort and tranquility settled down on me like a quilt. “It must be so stressful, having to put out new songs all the time just to keep people interested. Why do all the work yourself when there are so many talented people who could help you?”
Of course, he was right. I was being silly.
“That would be great,” I said. “I could use the help.”
The notes still playing in the back of my mind faded. The silence was overwhelming. I knew what it meant—I wasn’t stupid—but the blanket of calm held me still and muffled.
I opened my mouth to protest, but nothing came out. My own words were hysterical and irrational; August’s were smart and made sense. It was better to obey him.
Was it?
Of course it was. The warmth of that knowledge settled over me, and I was filled with a rush of gratitude for August and everything he was doing to make my career everything it could be.
My tongue loosened. “I’m glad you found someone who could take on all that work,” I said.
“Thank you for being so understanding,” August said. “Run along and tell Calista she’s done a wonderful job.”
Chapter 11
Electric blue lights pulsed with the beat of the music. Shadowy figures moved up and down the stairs, the glass banister reflecting the strobes and making the people seem like they were wading through light. I admired the fountain that tumbled down below the stairs as David chattered on.
I’d just met David. He was a scriptwriter who had just been contracted to work on a Glim film I’d forgotten the name of already, and I found him charming. I found everyone charming tonight, just as August had said I would. Everyone here was lively and interesting, and the fairy dust champagne in my hand did nothing to dampen my spirits. It fizzed and bubbled down my throat, landing in my belly with little electric jolts.
“You’re so funny,” I said, and laughed to prove it.
Around us, music pulsed and conversations hummed, and I could feel myself being carried along on all the energy. It was a good night, full of good drinks and good people, and I couldn’t think of anywhere I’d rather be than here.
Gentle fingertips landed on my arm.
“There’s someone I’d like you to meet,” August murmured in my ear.
It devastated me to leave David and his delightful stories, but I knew August would have someone even better for me, so I excused myself. David looked a little startled to be left so abruptly, but I knew he’d be fine. He was wonderful, and he’d find another wonderful person to talk to by the time I was on the other side of the room.
I followed August across the dance floor. He looked handsome tonight, with his dark eyes and thick hair providing the perfect backdrop for his dazzling white smile.
“This is Caleb Burke,” August said, putting his hand on the shoulder of a man with brown hair and hazel eyes. Any other night, I might have called him nondescript or even plain, but I couldn’t think of anyone that way now, not when I felt so happy and light inside. My career was taking off, I had the best manager in the world, and containing my joy would be a disservice to the entire world.
“Caleb is one of the best Glim photographers in the city,” August said. “Caleb, this is my latest talent.”
“He’s too flattering,” Caleb said, but I knew he couldn’t mean it. Everybody loved flattery. “I know who you are. I caught the beginning of your tour a few years ago.”
“Oh my gosh!” I said. I was maybe being too loud, but I didn’t care. It was amazing running into fans, and even more amazing when they were as nice as Caleb probably was. “That was such a short tour; I’m so glad you were able to make it! What did you think?”
“Best concert I went to that year,” he said. “My girlfriend at the time took me to your show, but I bought your album on my own.”
He raised his glass to me, and I couldn’t resist clinking mine against his.
“That’s so nice of you to say,” I said. “You seriously don’t know how much you made my night. I thought it was good before this!”
“I’ll leave you two to get to know each other,” August said. “Maybe you could even discuss a collaboration?”
He slipped away, and I put my hand on Caleb’s arm. “That’s such a great idea,” I said. “I would love to have you take pictures of me. You’re such a good photographer.”
He laughed. “Have you ever seen my work?”
I hadn’t. Realizing it came as a bit of a surprise to me.
“You have to be, because August says you are,” I said firmly. “August has an eye for talent.”
“Evidently,” he said, gesturing at me. I giggled, as bubbly as my champagne.
August came back after a while and introduced me to a few musi
cians. It seemed like he knew everybody in Portland’s Glimmering arts scene, and that was saying something. In the Humdrum world, aspiring artists fled to Los Angeles and New York and Nashville. In the Glim world, though, Portland was the hub of everything.
At least in the States. There were other big Glimmering cities around the rest of the world. Clarence would probably know about them. I should probably respond to his texts, I thought. He’d been sending me messages over the last few days, but I’d been too busy with my work to respond. August had me in rehearsals with my awesome new band, working on the awesome new music his amazing songwriter had created for me. I didn’t have time for a personal life. Maybe that explained why this party had me feeling so lit up inside.
“I’m about to introduce you to someone you’ll recognize,” August murmured in my ear as we crossed the room to the next person he wanted me to make friends with. “It wouldn’t hurt your career to flirt with him a little. Being seen with the right celebrities can help your career almost as much as a new song can.”
“That’s silly,” I said, but I knew he was right. This was part of the game, and I was happy to play. I was happy to do anything August told me to. He had my best interests at heart, and he was practically walking me through my career and making it almost too easy. I had to do my part whenever I could.
I bit my lip and smiled up at the celebrity August wanted me to meet. He made the introductions, but he didn’t have to—just like any other Glim within several countries, I recognized Miles Dempsey when I saw him. My heartbeat raced when he looked at me.
“Stay cool,” August murmured, quietly enough that only I could hear. Instantly, my jitters dissipated, and I held my hand out. Our handshake was firm, and his skin was warm and dry against mine.
“How do you know each other?” I said. “Don’t tell me he managed you, too?”
“No, August specializes in musicians,” Miles said. His face was just as gorgeous in real life as it was on the screen, with eyes that seemed to get bluer when he looked at me and chestnut hair that gleamed with golden highlights. He had to have a glamour on. No one was that shimmering in real life.
Of course, I had on a few glamours myself. Calista had done me up more than a little bit for this party. I’d have to remember to give her a big hug next time I saw her. She didn’t really seem like the hugging type, but I’d make her. August made me do things I didn’t necessarily want to do all the time, and I was always glad in the end that I’d taken his wise advice.
“It’s a good thing he specializes in musicians,” I said. “If he had you as a client, I doubt I’d get any of his time at all.”
“Now, that can’t be true,” he said. “I saw your latest video. You’re good.”
Miles Dempsey saw my video? The music in the room pounded, and my heartbeat matched it.
“We had way too much fun filming,” I said. “I’m surprised I don’t still have stars stuck in my hair.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” he said. “You’re glowing.”
He winked, and I laughed.
“That was a horrible line,” I said. “Please tell me you stole that from a terrible script.”
“That was one hundred percent Miles, I’m afraid,” he said. “Pretty bad?”
“The worst,” I said, resting my hand on his arm. “The absolute worst.”
August patted my arm and slipped away. I kept my hand on Miles’ arm but leaned around him to the row of lunar orchids set into a long trench built into the wall behind him. They were all in full, pearlescent bloom—no doubt thanks to some talented Glim gardener—and their aroma was intoxicating.
“Orchids are usually so disappointing,” I said. “They’re pretty, but you get close and there’s no smell at all.”
“Makes you feel tricked, doesn’t it?” he said.
“So much. These are perfect.” I took a long breath, savoring the scent, and almost leaned forward too far. Miles steadied me, and when I’d re-caught my balance, he didn’t move his hand off the small of my back.
“I hadn’t wanted to come to this party, you know,” he said. “I’m glad I did.”
“Because of the orchids,” I said.
“Absolutely.” His fingers shifted slightly on my back, warm through the thin fabric of my clinging gown. “It’s all about the potted plants for me.”
“You celebrities are all the same.”
“You celebrities?” he said. “You’re Dior Miller.”
I giggled. The thought that I was anywhere near his level was absurd—and yet, I was here, wasn’t I? This party was full of fabulously successful people, and, thanks to August, I’d been invited.
Maybe this was what it felt like to be somebody.
This feeling wasn’t quite the same rush as being onstage and letting the music pour out of me. My connection with this room wasn’t like my connection with my songs or my devoted fans. It was still a connection, though, and I felt a sparkle inside myself that I’d never experienced before.
Of course, everything about this night had felt sparkling from the beginning. Ever since Calista had made me over, in fact, the world had seemed lit up with a golden haze.
I turned to watch the room and feel what it was like to belong here.
Then, through the crowd, I caught the silhouette of someone familiar. It took a moment to be sure, but then I was waving to get Clarence’s attention. He didn’t see me, and suddenly, inexplicably, even the charms of Miles Dempsey didn’t feel like quite enough.
“I just saw a friend,” I said. “Excuse me.”
“Wait a second,” Miles said. He pulled a phone out of his suit pocket. “Give me your number.”
I thought for a moment, then flashed him a smile.
“If you want to get in touch, you’ll find me,” I said.
He looked surprised, and I sauntered away.
A man like that always got everything he wanted. If he wanted me, he’d have to work for it. And since he had to work for it, he’d end up wanting me more. I couldn’t say how I knew that—I just knew it, in the same way I’d known David and Caleb were charming and that this evening was the loveliest I’d ever had.
Finally, Clarence noticed me approaching. Every part of his face seemed to transform, from the crinkles in the corners of his eyes to the way his smile made his full lips seem even more luscious than usual.
Good Titania, how was it possible for anyone to be that beautiful? I was almost jealous.
“Hi,” I said, breathlessly.
For a second, the golden haze filling the world seemed to clear. I was still happy—beyond happy, even—but the colors seemed brighter and Clarence’s face in front of mine seemed as sharp as a shard of glass.
“Hi,” he said. He seemed as glad to see me as I was to see him. Around us, the party seemed to fade. It was wonderful, but it wasn’t important anymore. The only important thing in this room right now was him, here.
Damn, girl, I heard Briana’s voice say in my head. You’ve got it baaaaaad.
Imaginary Briana couldn’t have been more right.
I didn’t even care.
“I’m so glad to see you,” I said. I hugged him—quickly, awkwardly, wanting to seem casual but wanting even more to press my entire body against his, just to feel his warmth.
God, he smelled good, like vanilla and nutmeg and rain. It was either a glamour or a deodorant, and I kind of hoped it was a deodorant so I could track it down in a store somewhere and sniff it whenever I felt down.
Okay, now you’re getting weird, Imaginary Briana announced.
I needed to start bringing the actual Briana to these things. Maybe she could save me from myself.
“I haven’t heard from you in a while,” he said.
I tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “I’ve been super busy,” I said. “August has me working on songs for a new album.”
“I can’t wait to hear what you’ve come up with,” he said.
“Oh, I’m not writing them thi
s time around,” I said. “Just singing.”
Tiny lines appeared between his eyes. I felt like they were justified, like I should have those same lines on my face, too, but I couldn’t make them.
“It’s totally fine,” I said, trying to make the dissonance go away. “It gives me more time to focus on the performance side of things.”
“That’s… cool, I guess,” he said. “I thought you liked writing them, but I guess if you’re happy, that’s all that matters.”
“I’m super happy,” I reassured him. “My career is taking off. Did you hear I did an interview with Spellbound Tonight?”
“I did hear,” he said. “I didn’t catch it live, but I saw a video clip on the JinxNet. You did great.”
I felt like I was smiling at him with my whole body.
As had happened so many other times this evening, August interrupted. I hadn’t minded with the others, not really. It was always hard to be pulled away from such interesting acquaintances as I was meeting tonight, but there was always someone new and just as fascinating to talk to.
Clarence, however, had no competition. He was the most engaging person in the room, and the most gorgeous. I sent August a wave of go away emotion, which he didn’t catch.
“Do you mind if I take Dior for a few moments?” August said. “There’s someone I’d like her to meet.”
“Of course.” Clarence was more polite than I felt, especially since I knew full well he didn’t want to leave me any more than I wanted to leave him.
I made a face at August, which he also didn’t catch, and then he was pulling me away.
“The man I’m about to introduce you to is a producer,” August said. “He’s wealthy and very influential. You should make a good impression. He could be a useful contact in case you ever want to get into acting.”
“Got it,” I said.
I looked over my shoulder. Clarence was watching me. He raised his glass and smiled when he saw me looking.
I shook the producer’s hand and half-listened as August made the introductions. The man’s name was Alastair Radcliffe, he’d won a Celestia Award for his documentary on rising stars of the Glimmering culinary world, and he and August went way back. He had a high forehead, curly gray hair, and a long, sharp nose.