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“Nothing,” she quipped. “Welcome to the club, though. I can see it in your eyes and you’ve reached the teetering point and you’ve now succumbed to my world.” She threw her head back and laughed like a maniac while tapping her fingers together at the tips.Mmkay, Mr. Burns…
“Oh my god, you’re such a weirdo!” I hollered, but I couldn’t help but laugh. Between her zany actions and my inevitable exhaustion, I couldn’t control the snort-giggle that escaped me.
E fell on the bed, cackling like a chicken that had inhaled helium. The bed shook during our delirious fit, but it felt nice to share in it with her.
“What room are you in?” E demanded when her breathing returned to normal.
I told her I was a floor down.
A beat passed and her voice softened. “You can stay here if you want. We could watch a movie and order ice cream?” Her tone was neutral and light and I know she was trying to sound as such, giving me an easy out if I wanted.
It sounded fun, but another yawn took hold of me.
Before I could answer her, she patted me on the knee. “It’s ok; why don’t you go shower and get some sleep.”
Nodding my head in agreement, I scooted to the edge of the bed and stood.
“Oh, but Luce?”
“Hmm?”
She tossed me something soft and plush.
“Put a damn shirt on.”
Fair enough.
A hot showerand a time release melatonin pill was the winning combo that made me sleep like a husband. You know, the ones that slumber undeterred of the fact that their wives are the ones that get up with the children or the dog that has an upset tummy in the middle of the night.
I woke refreshed and ready to report for duty.
E reminded me that my shift was from nine to five, so I made it to the floor where the photo ops and autographs were with twenty minutes to spare.
Following the signs, I found myself in a giant ballroom that had been converted into what looked like a maze of more of those blue curtains. Except these were black.
“Morning! Checking in for the day?” a friendly woman asked. I hadn’t noticed her at first; I was too busy taking in the entire scene.
The curtains were probably ten feet high. They were sectioned off into smaller areas and I supposed if they were trying to keep bystanders from snapping shots of the celebs, it was as good as anything.
Bundles of cords protruded from under a corner, being corralled with those narrow rubber runners over the top.
“Hi, yes, good morning.” I snapped my attention to the woman and told her I was there for the photo ops.
Her hair was a brilliant magenta. She wore it in a Bette Davis style pompadour and I loved it.
“Photo op staff is meeting through the set of curtains over there,” she pointed. “Enjoy the day!”
Well, wasn’t she chipper?
Thanking her, I peeked around the edge of the black fabric and found a handful of people and checked myself in with a man named Colin.
“Lucy Leighton…ah, yes! E’s sister, amiright?”
“One and the same,” I smiled.
This Colin, apparently, my new boss, was also quite enthusiastic. “Well, you came highly recommended by her. Glad to have you here,” he welcomed me.
I made a note to ask E just how much pull she really did have. She seemed well-liked and highly respected in this foreign world, and I was finding myself relaxing and looking forward to my time spent on the circuit.
