Musings of a Gossip Queen: A Chick-Lit Comedy

by Victoria Bright

  7:01 p.m.

  Catwalk

  Music pumps from large speakers and the first few girls start walking down the catwalk. Madison picks the camera back up and snaps photos as they come down the runway. The clothes they’re wearing are mediocre at best. All the girls are clad in dresses that look like oversized t-shirts that passed through a tie-dye factory. Is this seriously what’s considered high fashion these days? If that’s the case, I’ll never understand it or be caught dead in it. It’s rather hideous.

  Taylor struts down the runway in a tie-dye pantsuit and tall platform shoes. All she’s missing is a large afro and she’d look like she was stuck in a ’70s Soul Train line. I snicker at the thought. I’m so amusing.

  She looks so confident as she poses at the end of the runaway. Madison snaps pictures of her and Taylor turns to go back to the end of the catwalk. Unfortunately, she must’ve miscalculated how far apart her feet were from each other because she turns, trips, and falls flat on her face, taking the model in front of her down with her.

  Madison cackles, but quickly gathers her composure when people turn to look at her. Taylor gets up and walks back down the catwalk. I actually feel kind of bad. How embarrassing to have this happen when you finally get a chance to show your skills? I can’t blame her though. I probably would’ve tripped if I wore those shoes, too.

  “Some model your friend is. She can’t even walk without tripping over her own flipper feet,” Madicunt says with a snicker. I grind my teeth together and ignore her. She’s one to talk considering that she has flippers of her own. Why in the hell did I have to invite her? I have a feeling she’s going to make me regret this project idea if she has to come with me everywhere.

  7:38 p.m.

  Dressing room

  After a few walking practices, we meet Taylor in the dressing room. She has a solemn look on her face as she sits in a chair in front of a mirror.

  “You okay?” I ask.

  She shrugs. “I can’t believe I fell. The designer isn’t too happy about it,” she says.

  “I think you did great. Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re still learning everything, and at the last minute, too. I’m sure you’ll get it,” I say, giving her hand a reassuring pat.

  She gives me a small smile. “Thanks. Did you guys get the pictures you needed?”

  “Yep,” Madison says, waving the camera.

  “Good. Are you guys coming to the fashion show on Thursday?”

  “Yes, definitely,” I answer

  “Be sure to invite your boyfriend, too. It’s thanks to him and his great eye that I got this gig in the first place,” Taylor says. I clench my teeth together, feeling Madicunt’s beady eyes boring into the side of my head. I can only imagine the look on her face right now.

  “I’ll let him know,” I say.

  “Her boyfriend?” Madicunt repeats.

  “Yeah. Um…Simon…Silas! It’s Silas, right?”

  “Oh, I didn’t know you two were dating,” Madicunt says, looking at me with a hint of mischief. Oh hell.

  “He isn’t my boyfriend,” I say.

  “He may as well be. You guys do an awful lot of kissing to be friends,” Taylor teases. “I need to get changed and then we can get out of here. I’ll be back in a few.” She gets up and disappears into the madness, leaving me with googly-eyed Madison.

  “Boyfriend, huh? Does Silas know you’re going around lying to people and saying he’s your boyfriend?” she asks, folding her arms across her chest.

  I roll my eyes. “I never told her we were dating. She just assumes we are.”

  She chuckles to herself and shakes her head. “You both have vivid imaginations to assume such a thing,” she simply says and walks off.

  God, I hate her.

  7:42 p.m.

  Still in the dressing room

  My phone vibrates in my hand, displaying a text from Silas.

  Sex Bomb: Anything good happening? I wish I was there. I could’ve used the pictures.

  Blake: I’m about 2 seconds from strangling Madison, but the rehearsal is pretty much over.

  Sex Bomb: LOL why?

  Blake: She’s just being her usual cunty self. Taylor keeps thinking you’re my boyfriend and she mentioned that around Madison. Madison thinks I have a “vivid imagination” to think we’d date.

  Sex Bomb: Would you like to?

  I pause, my eyes widening at his message. Is he asking what I think he is?

  Blake: Would I like to what?

  Sex Bomb: Date

  The familiar butterflies flutter in my stomach as I bit my lip to keep myself from squealing. In your fucking face, you cunt!

  Okay, Blake. Just play it cool. Don’t appear too eager. Just be cool.

  Blake: Like boyfriend and girlfriend?

  Sex Bomb: Yes like boyfriend and girlfriend. So what do you say?

  Hell fucking yes is what I’ll say! I can’t even stop the wide smile that crosses my face as I reply back to him.

  Blake: I’d like that. Speaking of date, would you like to accompany me to the fashion show? Taylor would really like it if you came.

  Sex Bomb: Of course.

  I smile to myself as I go in search of Taylor. I have a little trick for Madame Cuntpocket and if she’s as predictable as I assume she is, I can’t wait to see her face when it all plays out.

  8:09 p.m.

  Limo

  “That was fun,” Madicunt says as we settle into the limo.

  “Thanks for inviting us, Taylor,” I say.

  “No problem. I can’t wait until the fashion show. I’m so excited for it,” Taylor says, clasping her hands together.

  “Speaking of the fashion show,” I say, fighting to keep the sly grin from my lips. “My boyfriend said he’ll be able to make it.”

  “Yay!” Taylor exclaims as Madison scoffs.

  “I think you and I both know Silas isn’t your boyfriend,” she says. “Matter of fact, how about we call and ask him?”

  Bingo. She’s such a predictable bitch.

  She pulls out her phone and pulls up Silas’ contact, putting him on speaker when she starts the call.

  “Hello?” he answers. Even his voice gives me butterflies.

  “Hey there, bestie,” she says. Gag.

  “What’s up?”

  “I’m here with Blake and her friend and apparently there’s this rumor going around that you’re her boyfriend. Can you believe that?” she says and giggles as if it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard.

  “It’s no rumor. It’s true,” he replies. I smirk and fold my arms across my chest.

  “Wait, what?” she stammers, looking at her phone in disbelief.

  “We’re dating,” he says. “She’s my girlfriend. Is that why you’re calling? To ask me that?”

  “I thought she was lying,” she answers, her tone dry and bitter.

  “Ah. I have to go though. I’ll talk to you later,” he says and hangs up before she can say another word.

  Blake - 8, Cunt Cakes - 0

  9:59 p.m.

  On my couch

  Blake Unfiltered blog post #794

  SWEET BABY JESUS IN A TREEHOUSE.

  SILAS AND I ARE OFFICIALLY DATING!

  My mind is still reeling over that. I’m officially his girlfriend. He’s officially my boyfriend. We’re officially a couple! The icing on the cake was the look on Shamu’s face when she called him in an attempt to embarrass me in front of Taylor, only to have it backfire on her. That’s exactly what she gets. Serves her right. Gah! So many good things have happened since I moved here. I’m doing well at work, I have great friends, I’m rubbing elbows with celebrities and now I have a boyfriend. I haven’t even been here a full month yet! I’m so excited I can’t even sleep. I’m pretty sure Madicunt will be an even bigger bitch than she usually is, but at this point, I don’t even care.

  I rule; she drools.

  End of story.

  xoxo,

  B

  Chapter Fourteen


  Thursday, January 29th

  As Told By Blake

  By Blake Spencer

  Tonight is the debut launch of fashion designer Olga Jyvolkski’s Spring Collection! The fashion show will be filled with many debuting designers showcasing designs from their upcoming fashion lines that will be for sale in stores all across the country. Attendance at this star-studded affair is estimated to be great, with special performances from the sensational Pop group Death by Notes and X-Factor winner Adrianna Hunter. Be sure to be there or be square!

  Love and gossip,

  Blake

  Small Girl, Big City

  By Madison Hill

  Blah, blah, blah, blah. I’m so bored with this I almost want to jump off a cliff.

  4:32 p.m.

  At my desk

  With my workday pretty much finished, I pull out my iPad and open my blog. Shayla and Caesar giggle amongst themselves across from me, dangerously close to each other. If either one of them made a sudden move, I’m pretty sure they’d be kissing.

  “Hey Shayla, want to grab some food after work?” CJ calls from her desk.

  Shayla looks over her shoulder and shakes her head. “Sorry, CJ. Caesar and I have to stay a little late to put the finishing touches on our project,” she answers.

  Hmm.

  They’ve been staying late an awful lot lately. My mind reverts back to Shayla’s controlling, mean boyfriend. Shayla seems like the faithful type. Whatever is going on between her and Caesar is probably nothing.

  “What are you doing?” I hear behind me.

  I snap my iPad closed and turn around to see Madicunt standing behind me. How long has she been standing there? Has she been reading over my shoulder?

  “What is it?”

  “Blake Unfiltered? What is that?” she asks. I roll my eyes. I’m sure we’ve been through this once before when she was creeping over my shoulder like the weirdo she is.

  “A private blog. What is it?”

  “Your Tumblr blog isn’t private. I’m sure everyone in this office has read it.”

  “This one is private. Password-protected. Now what do you want?” I snap. I don’t even want to think of what would happen if this blog were read.

  “You seem pretty jumpy over it. Are you writing things you shouldn’t be?” she asks with a malicious smirk.

  I sigh. I want to tell her that it’s none of her business what I’m writing in it, but I’m not in the mood to go back and forth with her. “What is it, Madison?”

  “I just wanted to tell you that I guess you can just text me the details to let me know when we should meet,” she says, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

  If it were up to me, we’d be meeting at half past never.

  “That’s fine.” I wish she’d go away already. Instead, she continues to blab.

  “I was going to just leave from here with you, but I remembered that I need to look presentable. You never know who you’ll see at these fashion shows.” Well, yes, because if you didn’t make yourself look like a human, they’d mistaken you as a camel and not allow you to enter.

  “Okay then,” I say.

  Silas comes over to us and sits on the corner of my desk. “You ladies ready for the fashion show?” he asks.

  “I guess,” Madison says and walks away.

  I shake my head. “I hope she isn’t giving you a hard time about us dating,” I say.

  “Doesn’t matter. She’ll get over it eventually. Are we meeting at the venue?”

  “Yeah, that’ll be fine. Taylor has to leave much earlier than we do, so we may as well all meet outside the venue at 7.”

  “Okay then. Suit and tie?”

  “Yes, sir,” I say. He stands, takes my hand and places a gentle kiss on it.

  “See you later then,” he says with a dazzling smile and lets go of my hand, walking away.

  He’s so damn adorable, not to mention all mine.

  Take that, Madicunt.

  “Ooooh,” Shayla coos from her desk and giggles.

  “Oh hush,” I say with a smile, turning back to my computer.

  5:04 p.m.

  Clocking out

  Taylor: Do you have anything to wear tonight?

  Blake: I’ll have to check.

  Taylor: Let’s go shopping then.

  Blake: I don’t think that’s necessary.

  Taylor: It’ll be fun! Plus, it’s Grady’s treat. He’s proud of me for landing the job.

  So she told grandpa after all. Well, if he’s shelling out the money for an outfit tonight, who am I to say no? I didn’t have anything fancy enough to wear to a fashion show anyway, so this was the perfect opportunity. Plus, any opportunity to be able to one up Madison is a win in my book.

  Blake: Okay then. I should be home in a few.

  Taylor: Glad you said yes. We’re actually in a limo outside of your job. We don’t have much time to shop, so hurry up!

  I grab my coat, clock out and head for the door.

  “Blake, wait up!” Madison calls from behind me. Oh hell, what now?

  Turning to face her, I watch as she jogs to catch up to me. “Here’s my number,” she says, handing me a neon pink sticky note with her number on it. I program it in my phone and send her a message. Her phone makes an obnoxious sound, which is typical of her considering that she’s obnoxious herself. “Cool. Got you, too.”

  “Good. I’ll meet you outside the venue at 7 then,” I say and turn to walk away.

  She follows me to the elevator and rides down with me. When we step outside, she gawks at the limo waiting outside as Taylor hangs out of the window waving to me.

  “Carolina! Over here!” she calls.

  I skip over to the limo as the driver opens the door, sliding onto the backseat. Taylor and Grady sit side by side with champagne flutes in their hands.

  “Does your friend need a ride?” Grady asks.

  Taylor scoffs. “I don’t want her to ride with us. When I fell at rehearsals, she thought it was so funny,” she mutters.

  “I have a confession, Taylor,” I say. She looks at me without a word. “That’s actually Madicunt, not Carrie.”

  “Figures. You were right about her. I figured she was a mean girl when she tried to make a big deal out of your boyfriend. She’s definitely a big cunt,” she says.

  I laugh. “Yeah, she is.”

  “Why are we inviting her to the fashion show again?”

  “She’s my partner on this project. Trust me, if I didn’t have to invite her, I wouldn’t have,” I say, turning my attention to Grady. He wears a black suit and his black cane rests on the seat next to him. “So Grady, are you proud of Taylor?”

  “Yes, definitely. The pictures she took turned out great. Your friend has a great eye for photography.”

  “Yeah, he did a great job.”

  “Will he be at the show tonight?”

  “Yes, he’ll be meeting us there,” I say.

  “I’m so excited about tonight. My first fashion show. It still doesn’t even feel real,” Taylor gushes. I smile as she goes on and on about all the things she’s learned in the past few days as she prepared for this show. I must admit I’m rather proud of her.

  You go, Taylor.

  5:41 p.m.

  Saks Fifth Avenue

  “Feel free to get whatever you like just like last time. You deserve it, honey,” Grady says, puckering his lips to Taylor. I turn away as they share a kiss. That’s still a sight I could live without. Gross.

  “Ready to pop some tags, Blake?” Taylor asks when Grady walks away.

  “Sure,” I say and follow her over to the dresses.

  We browse through multiple racks and then a thought suddenly hits me. “Wait, why are you shopping? You’re going to be in the fashion show so you don’t need anything to wear,” I say.

  “This isn’t for me; it’s for you. I didn’t want you to get any ideas and try to wear your other dress again.”

  “What’s wrong with wearing it again?”

&nb
sp; “You don’t wear something more than once, especially to an event,” she says. Celebrities and their stupid rules. “Do you have a particular look you’re going for?”

  I haven’t really thought about that, not to mention that I’ve never gone to a fashion show to know what’s appropriate to wear at this sort of function.

  “Not really. I don’t really know what you usually wear to this type of thing.”

  “You can wear anything fancy. As long as it looks good, you should be fine.” She pulls a gown from the rack. “How about this?”

  It’s a rather gorgeous dress. The sleeveless ivory dress has a cross back and is embroidered with colorful crystals on the shoulders and across the waist.

  “That’s really pretty,” I say, grabbing the tag and taking a peek at it.

  $8,895?!

  I NEED A LIFE ALERT BUTTON! MY CHEST!

  “Holy shit,” I gasp. Taylor waves me off.

  “Will you stop worrying about the price? That’s mere pennies for Grady. Here, go try it on,” she says, handing me the dress and pushing me along.

  5:58 p.m

  Still in Saks Fifth

  I step out of the dressing room and move over to the mirror, gasping at my reflection. This dress fits me like a glove and is absolutely beautiful.

  “I swear you look amazing in anything you wear,” Taylor says. “Do you like this?”

  “Yes, it’s perfect,” I murmur, looking at my reflection in awe. Wait until Silas sees me in this. Better yet, wait until Madicunt sees me in my nearly $9,000 dress while she wears something from Forever 21.

  “Ah, Alexander McQueen. That’s a nice choice,” Grady says as he approaches us.

  “He’s a great designer. And it’s the perfect dress for her body type,” Taylor muses, folding her arms across her chest. “So are you going to do with that one or would you like to keep looking?”