Page 50 of Little Miss Fortune

‘You have done everything else? Say Wallahi.’ She points at Dan and Dan. ‘Where are Engle and Seana?’

‘With catering. We need more hands to create ambiance.’

Fawzia looks at me and Toby with a quivering, begging lip. ‘We got it.’

‘Thank you, thank you, thank you!’

We follow Dan and Dan’s instructions. They may seem as if they are a bit lacklustre, but they do know how to create an atmosphere. The rooms transform. They hand out costumes to the rest of the staff. ‘We need to immerse ourselves. Otherwise, what’s the fun?’

And in that moment, I recognised them as the biggest nerds in the world. They love this stuff. They love dressing up; they like costume parties. These two men look the happiest I have ever seen them. They might not be organised in the corporate sense of the word, but things will get done, and they will look good.

I go to the toilets to change. I wish I were better at describing clothes and fashion. Like this ruching, and this lace thing, and this bodice-with-empire-waist thing... Who am I kidding—I look hot, okay? It looks like the whore’s dress in New Orleans, the one that Lestat kills. It felt weird changing clothes in the cubicle of a club. Don’t know whether that was a high or a low point of my life.

Toby is carrying the boxes into the storage cupboard. His embroidered waistcoat and flowy shirt look weirdly good on him. His pantaloons and tights however...

‘Nice trousers.’ I walk by.

‘I deserve them after laughing at Fuck-oh.’

Hey, he said it. But something in his smile makes me forgive him. Only a little.

Fawzia gathers us around. She is wearing an 1800s-style cloak and some gloves with a matching headscarf. She gives instructions to the staff. I will be head usher; Toby will help with the bar payments, as he is not trained to pour out alcohol, which is a thing, apparently.

The cameras come in. John’s one of the camera people. He proudly announces that he volunteered when he heard I was going to be here. What joy.

He tries to talk to me, but I grab Seana and ask her to help me turn the candles on. We were not allowed to bring real candles. Fire plus drunk people with costumes: bad combo.

I go downstairs with a guest list. My job is to stamp them in the neck with two dots, like vampire bites, but also to allow re-entry if they decide to go for a smoke or something. The bouncers help me check the bags as I tick off more and more people.

‘Fuko?’ Leon dives in for a hug. He also went for a waistcoat and a cravat-type thing under his neck. ‘Look whom I brought!’

Sashka is standing in a gorgeous red gown. It’s sort of like... The bustles are all... I give up. Why do I even try? She looks great. Better than me. Why did that thought even cross my mind? Of course she is going to look better than me.

‘Wow,’ I sing out. ‘I see how it is. We have favourites, huh, Leon?’

‘Shush you, I am only allowed one plus one, and you hate dress-up, which is a shame because you look great.’

Another thing to add into the pile of boring things that everyone thinks about me. People behind him start looking a bit impatient. Faint droplets begin to form in the air and misting down. Leon moans as I stamp his neck and gladly accepts a gentle slap on the shoulder.

Sashka is a bit more hesitant. ‘He is inside, isn’t he?’

I nod. She puffs out her chest and straightens her back as she accepts the vampire bite marks.

People keep flooding in. I had to stop a man who came in jeans, as the event has a dress code. He was not impressed with my actions one bit. Took a picture of me and said that I would regret it as the bouncers pulled him away.

I am just doing my job, man. Please allow me to.

I was waiting for the celebrity to show up, but apparently, she is already in and has started giving a speech, which is my cue to shut the doors. I check RSVPs on my phone, and the number of last-minute declines matches up with the people who didn’t come. Plus, the jeans man.

I walk to the bar and ask Toby to keep my phone, as I do not have pockets.

‘I saw Alexandra,’ he says, putting my phone away.

‘Did you guys talk?’

‘Not really. There is nothing to say. I feel bad, but it doesn’t change how I feel.’

I turn away. None of my business. He is a grown adult. He knows what’s best for him.