by India Lee
“My dear, we are so lucky to be related to Malcolm Hunter,” Mira declared as she stepped into the large gutted building. “Even I couldn’t get a location like this for Queen Bee’s birthday party.” Gemma looked around the old building. It looked as if a fire had recently burned out the interior. The windowpanes were yellowing and the metal beams across the ceiling looked rusted.
“Remind me again why we’re lucky?” Gemma cracked. Mira gave her a playful smack on the arm.
“Your father didn’t get why I liked the space either. He’s been trying to get a buyer on this location forever because apparently, no one wants it. But just look at how beautiful it is!”
“Again, Aunt Mira… not trying to be rude but…”
“Oh Gemma, think about it,” Mira gestured to the back of the large space where a beautiful brass balcony loomed below a grand circular glass window. “A masquerade. Everyone dancing in their beautiful suits and gowns, faces hidden behind masks and all against this raw, industrial backdrop. It’s so romantic. Why aren’t you as excited as I am?”
“No, I am,” Gemma said.
“Come on, Gemma. I thought it was always you and me with the creative minds in the family. Can’t you see the potential in this space?”
“Well,” Gemma looked around again. It would certainly be interesting to be joined in costume for once. And the building, with its endlessly high ceilings and unfinished, well, everything, could definitely be a charming space without taking the attention away from everyone’s disguises. “Yes. I see it. It’s a mysterious building. But it’s subtle so all the thought that everyone puts into their costumes will still shine through.”
“Exactly, love!” Mira clapped her hands together. “You know, once you have the time again I should really let you handle some of the creative elements of Queen Bee.”
“That’d be amazing,” Gemma nodded. She remembered the first performance she did where she designed all her own costumes. It was what gave Mira the idea for Gemma’s career, after all.
“Best part is that gorgeous balcony,” Mira sighed as she gazed into the distance. “That’s the type of balcony where memories are made.”
~
After seeing the event space, the idea of her gigantic birthday bash was beginning to feel more real. There was just one last detail that Gemma was waiting on.
“Hello, hello,” she heard Mira sing as she came through the front door of the house. “I’ve got that special RSVP that arrived at my office today.”
Gemma immediately snapped up from her bed and bounded down the stairs. At the sound of her running, Malcolm and Emily both emerged from the living room.
“What’s going on?” Emily asked curiously.
Gemma ignored her. “She’s coming? Is she coming?”
Mira had texted about Zoe’s late RSVP upon receiving it at her office, but refused to allow Gemma to pick it up. While Queen Bee was allowed at the offices of Roebling-Hunter, Gemma was not.
“I don’t know, I didn’t open it,” Mira scoffed. “Because I’m respectful of your privacy.”
Gemma eyed the heavily taped package and Mira’s freshly manicured nails. “I’m sure that was the reason,” she said.
“Hey, I could have used an envelope opener or told someone else to do it if I really wanted to,” Mira reasoned. “Now open it and let me see what’s inside. And be calm, sweetheart, don’t get your hopes up yet.”
Mira, Malcolm and Emily followed Gemma as she took the box into the kitchen. She retrieved a sharp knife from the drawer and anxiously slashed it open.
“I’m glad you’re being calm about this,” Mira said. Malcolm laughed.
“Sorry, I’m excited to meet her.”
“I know you are. But don’t forget what I said about girls like Zoe. They love attention and they’ll do almost anything to get it,” Mira said warningly. “I just don’t want you to get your hopes up for this great friendship and then find out that she was just… using you for publicity or something.”
Emily’s jaw dropped. “Well, God, that would be rude.”
Mira shrugged. “Teenaged girls. It’s that much worse when they’re competing for boys and headlines.”
Gemma tuned everyone out as she finished tearing open the package. She dug out the RSVP card from the mess of tissue paper. Her smile quickly fell upon seeing which option Zoe had checked off. She let out a short breath of shock and disappointment.
“She said no.” Gemma stared at the little check mark. “She’s not coming to my party.”
Even Mira’s shoulders dropped with disappointment. “What?” She snatched the RSVP card from Gemma’s fingers. “How dare she make such a fuss about meeting you and then say no? You know, I’m not even sure why I’m surprised considering everything Hudson has told me about her.” She opened her mouth to say something else but stopped herself. Gemma was fairly certain that it would have been something along the lines of, “I told you so.”
“Well, let’s see what else is in there,” Emily said encouragingly. “It looks like she sent you something nice to say sorry.”
Gemma reached into the box and began peeling off the tissue paper from Zoe’s gift. When she finished, she stared at the gift blankly.
“Geez.” Malcolm rolled his eyes and left the room. Emily cocked her head with curiosity.
“What is that?” she asked.
“It’s a shot glass,” Mira said, unamused. “She gave you a shot glass for your seventeenth birthday.”
“Well that’s four years too early, isn’t it?” Emily asked Gemma, who glared.
“Yes, Mom,” she grumbled before taking the box up to her room in an angry huff. As mad as she was that Zoe wouldn’t be attending, she was determined to blame anyone else for her anger. She still wanted desperately to meet Zoe. Something about her captivated Gemma, and she wasn’t quite ready to let go of the idea of becoming friends.
She tossed the box onto her bed with frustration, and only then did she notice a line of writing on the back of the RSVP card. Next to a neatly drawn balloon, the handwritten message read: Drinks are on me next time, girl! Promise! Love, Zoe.
~
“I can’t believe how many people are here,” Gemma leaned carefully over the balcony railing, looking down at the sea of people below her. Colorful ball gowns, elaborate wigs, and jeweled Venetian masks were strewn across the vast dance floor. Gemma perched above it all, truly feeling like a queen in her Renaissance and royalty-inspired ensemble. This was the moment she had been waiting months for. She had been more excited for it than getting her driver’s license and “inheriting” Gavin’s car – the other major markers of her seventeenth birthday.
“There would’ve been more, but you know. Fire hazards.” Armand shrugged, looking creative and classy in a fitted eggplant suit. Attached to the back of his belt were large peacock feathers that flapped as he pulled the long train of her dress down over the floor-sweeping crinoline petticoat. It was clear that her team was getting frustrated with the elaborate get-up. The outfit needed constant adjustments and the ten pounds of bunched satin and velvet created a bubble around her; she was floating in a three-foot radius of ornately decorated luxury fabric. Penelope, in an equally restraining costume, had to hand Gemma a makeup brush to touch up her own lips because she couldn’t get close enough to Gemma’s face.
“That dress is taking over my job, Armand,” said Andro, Gemma’s trusted head of security. Even he had kind of dressed up for the occasion. He retained his professionalism by wearing his standard pressed suit and earpiece but had somehow been coaxed into donning a few embellishments. A golden turban sat on top of his head with a matching, perfectly knotted scarf around his neck.
“Did Armand do that to you?” Gemma asked, pointing at his accessories.
“Yes,” Andro replied sternly. He was never one to say much but she could tell he was having a good time.
“Honestly, Armand,” Penelope sighed. “You did a lovely job dressing all of us and Bee’s got a beautiful dress and you�
��re truly a genius – but how is she supposed to dance in that thing?”
“Okay, enough from all of you!” Armand huffed, covering his ears. “It’s getting to be a lot of pressure. It must always be something new, something innovative. Well… you cannot always dance in something new and innovative!”
“Come on now,” Gemma laughed. “We all appreciate it. I know I do. I think it’s beautiful.”
“Right,” Penelope nodded enthusiastically, responding to Armand’s sudden sensitivity. “And totally… authentic. She looks like royalty. Up on this balcony, in this dress, looking down at her courtiers.”
“I’m sorry,” Armand sighed. “I do feel bad. You are seventeen now and you should be free and happy and dance like a crazy person with everyone down there. But I’ve trapped you in this dress. You are imprisoned by my creativity.”
Andro adjusted his turban. “Even if she could walk, she isn’t cleared to go past these steps,” he said.
Gemma raised her eyebrows. “Sure shaping up to be an exciting birthday for me, huh?” she said sarcastically. “My big VIP balcony with my stylist, make-up artist and bodyguard and no one else.”
“There’s also those guys.” Andro pointed to the dozen or so additional security professionals lining the mezzanine. Gemma sighed.
“I’m sorry she couldn’t make it,” Penelope said sympathetically. “People like Zoe are flighty. Or busy. I’m sure she’s just as bummed about it.”
“And you already had that romantic dinner with Tyler,” Armand reasoned. “And we are not so bad, right Bee? I know we are not as cool as Tyler and Zoe and Zoe’s little drunk friend, but we love you and we can be fun too.”
“Aunt Mira said this is a balcony where memories are made,” Gemma sighed. “And I love you guys, but I just need friends that are…”
“Do not say ‘my own age,’” Armand said with a hand held out in front of him. “I am not that old. You say that and I will feel bad about myself. I am already emotional.”
“Fine,” Gemma laughed. “But I was going to say that I need friends that are allowed up on this balcony with me. You know, like Queen Bee’s own friends.”
“I get you, girl,” Penelope nodded. “And I’m just amazed and proud that you’ve kept this a secret from all your high school buddies.”
“Well…” Gemma twisted her mouth with guilt.
“Oh no you didn’t, Bee,” Penelope shook her head, looking pale.
“No, I didn’t tell anyone!”
“I’m going to take two steps this way if anyone needs me,” Andro said, pointing away from them. “I don’t want to hear anything that will make me have to lie to Mira.” The three watched as Andro walked away and turned his back to them. Penelope and Armand chuckled.
“So what did you do?” Armand asked, his eyes suddenly sparkling in anticipation of gossip.
“You told Tyler your real identity, didn’t you? Lord, please tell me you didn’t.” Penelope’s eyes bore into her with urgency.
“No,” Gemma giggled. “Nothing like that. It’s just that someone from home knows that I’m Queen Bee but he’ll totally keep a secret and I’m not worried about it at all.”
“Lucas,” Penelope and Armand said in unison.
“How’d you know?” Gemma looked at them quizzically. “I thought you would assume Damian or something.” Penelope and Armand rolled their eyes in unison.
“Well, Mira loves that kid so I think you’re in the clear,” Penelope said. “Did you invite him tonight?”
“I did, but what does it matter? He’s not supposed to know who I am and I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea for him to come in the first place. He’s probably wandering around down there, all awkward and by himself.” Gemma gazed forlornly over the balcony. “I’m not sure he even really wanted to come but I think he sensed that I wouldn’t know anyone else at my own birthday party. Which is sad.”
Suddenly, a wave of cheers came from the floor. Penelope and Armand jumped to their feet to take a look over the balcony edge. Andro craned his neck to look as well.
“Oh my God, is it him?” Penelope shouted across to Andro. Gemma’s heart fluttered at the thought of Tyler surprising her in some way again.
“No, it’s a bunch of girls,” Andro replied.
“Really?” Gemma exclaimed, rushing over to look and hoping to see Zoe and perhaps Harper. As soon as she leaned over the ledge, she knew it wasn’t them. The cheers were coming from a crowd of people who had encircled three beautifully costumed, dancing girls – none of whom looked a thing like Zoe or Harper. They were dressed as harem dancers and moved sensually, creating a stir among all on the dance floor. In the center was a particularly striking girl who easily upstaged the others. She tossed around her long, glossy blonde hair that reminded Gemma of… Madison.
“Are you freaking kidding me?” Gemma screamed. “Ugh God! That’s her! That’s Madison. I totally forgot she’d be here.”
“Oh,” Armand said, wringing his hands and exchanging nervous glances with Penelope. He smiled nervously. “I guess you know more than one person here after all, no?”
“That bitch,” Penelope hissed. “Does she think she’s going to be the center of attention? At Queen Bee’s party? Well, screw her. I’m glad Tyler’s not here for her to squeal over.”
“My God, Penelope, you’re angrier than I am,” Gemma said, surprised.
“Hell yeah, I am!” Penelope exclaimed.
“She wears her bitterness like a mink coat,” Armand nodded.
“You know what, Bee? I think it’s time for the Queen to meet her courtiers, what do you think?” Penelope quickly rushed to Andro. “We’re going down there, Andro.”
“Who’s ‘we?’ Are you talking about Bee too?”
“Yes, we can’t just stay up here all night. The Queen’s gotta greet her people! Practice your wave, Bee – go!” Penelope held her hand up in the air, waving a very controlled wave. Gemma laughed. There was little Penelope hated more than girls like Madison.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Andro blinked, taken aback. It was the first time Gemma had seen Andro unsure of a situation. It made her nervous.
“You practically have an army. Can’t they do something so Bee can go and meet some fans? That’s what they’re here for, right?”
“But Mira said…”
Penelope pounded on Andro’s broad chest with her delicate fists. “Mira left an hour ago! You’re in the clear!” Andro laughed, gently taking Penelope’s hands and putting them back at her sides.
“Okay,” he said. “We’ll work something out.”
“Thank you,” Penelope exhaled. “I’m sorry, I just feel like I have to avenge my teenage self. I mean do you see this girl? Does she think this is her party?”
Gemma felt her stomach turn as she watched Madison dance. She was undeniably alluring with her exposed midriff and lithe limbs, all perfectly tanned and toned. The light rose chiffon of her costume twirled about her theatrically. Gemma had felt bad enough about the low celebrity turnout of her supposedly star-studded party – now she felt a hundred times worse with Madison of all people serving as the focus of her party. But in the midst of her silent lamenting, Andro appeared with a line of security guards behind him. Within seconds, they had put up a long gate barricading the crowd from the stairwell leading to the balcony. Gemma could see the buzz move across the crowd – they knew what was about to happen.
“Okay!” Penelope yelped. “It’s all set, let’s go!” Penelope and Armand ran behind Gemma and lifted the train of her gown. The three made their way to the stairs. The moment Gemma took the first step down, the crowd roared louder than she thought was possible.
“My God,” Gemma giggled.
“Yeah, show that bitch!” Penelope screamed over the cheers. Gemma tried not to laugh as she waved to her fans. Andro and the rest of security were already pushing people back from the barricades.
“Mon dieu,” Armand pulled a feather loose from his belt, fa
nning himself. They made their way down slowly, all secretly praying that Gemma wouldn’t trip over the folds of fabric surrounding her feet. As they approached the last landing, Andro stepped up to take her hand and help her the rest of the way.
“You remember your signals for help, correct?” he asked hurriedly.
“Yes.”
“Don’t hug any of the fans, okay? We’re not in a controlled environment.”
“Yeah,” Gemma replied, scanning the crowd.
“Don’t look so distracted, I need you focused now, Bee.” Andro squinted at her with concern.
“I’m just looking for my friend. I really want to say hi to him tonight.”
“What’s he look like?”
“I’d tell you but that’s not going to make much of a difference,” Gemma laughed nervously as she took that last step onto the dance floor. The sea of masked faces cheered, arms reaching for her. She wondered if Lucas had actually made it to the party and dressed up. Andro handed her a Sharpie. Gemma took it, only then noticing the many arms holding out various objects for her to sign. She approached the crowd with a wide smile.
As she moved along the barricades, she giggled at the sight of fans sitting on each other’s shoulders for a better view. It reminded her of Elisa sitting on Lucas’s broad shoulders after one of her concerts last year. She had defied security to take a last photo with Elisa. The crowd had been wild that night, but it was worth it for Lucas’s sweet smile of gratification. Lucas. Why was he suddenly all she could think about?
“Your highness.” A familiar voice suddenly spoke over the deafening crowd. She looked up. A tall, wavy-haired boy stood in front her. He wore a silver mask and an old tuxedo that looked a little too small for him.
“Hi,” Gemma sighed. Lucas pushed the silver mask up. She looked into his eyes for any signs of being annoyed or upset. “Are you having fun?”
“Not really,” Lucas smiled.
“Oh my God, rude!” a nearby fan yelled at him.
“Ew, get away then!” another one screamed. Gemma laughed, shaking her head as she reached into the crowd to sign their CDs. They deserved the extra effort for jumping to her defense.