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“That would be correct.” She taps my nose like she did when I was younger. “Now, let’s get ready.”
I sit in the chair next to my mother as someone starts on my hair, and then I close my eyes when the makeup people begin. “What color is your dress?”
“Black,” I reply, “like my soul.”
“Ryleigh,” my mother hisses.
“Just keeping it real.” I giggle a bit. “I want my makeup as natural as you can make it.” I open one eye, and the girl nods at me. “Just make sure the circles under my eyes are covered, and I look semi human.” An hour passes and no one says anything until we are both done. I open my eyes, seeing my makeup in soft tones of pink and gold, and my hair is slicked back but loose, exactly how I wanted it. “I look fierce,” I declare, turning to the side to see how the back of my hair looks.
“Go get into the dress,” the hairdresser tells me, “and then we’ll put the final touches on you.”
With a nod, I leave the room and go to my bedroom, where the black dress hangs in the closet. Slipping out of my skirt and top, I grab the black lace thong pinned on another plush hanger in little clips, and I have to laugh at the craziness of my real life back home in Chicago compared to this. Back home, my closet is half this size, and all my panties are in a drawer together. Once my thong is on, I glide the lace dress off the hanger before stepping into it. I slide my arms through the delicate lace sleeves that fit snugly on my upper arm and then widen from the elbow all the way down to over my fingernails, which are also painted black. I reach to the back to zip up the zipper to the waist before I walk out of the room and head to get help. I stop at my parents’ closed door, knocking once. “I need help with the zipper. Are you two decent?”
“Yes!” my mother shouts from behind the closed door. Even though she said yes, I still poke my head in before opening it and seeing no one is in the room. I find them in the walk-in closet.
“Hi,” I say, spotting my father zipping up my mother’s black gown. She looks over at me and puts her hand to her chest. “I need help.”
“Um.” My father looks at me for a second. “Um, the front.”
“Yes.” I smile at him. I look at the front that plunges down to my navel in a V. “Isn’t it pretty?” I turn around. “Can you zip the back?”
“Why is there more material on the back than the front?” he mumbles as he zips up the see-through lace that covers the back.
I turn to check in the mirror to get the final look. The top has the illusion that it’s nude under the bodice, but there is a skin-colored material, so I’m not showing off the girls. It goes tight at the waist and around the hips until it kicks off mermaid style. “I’ve seen this dress before.”
“I hope you have.” I turn to him. “I took it from Mom’s closet.”
“Oh my God.” He puts his hand in front of his mouth. “Yes.”
“I hope it’s not the one she wore when she caught you having sex with someone in the bathroom.” I wink at my mom while my dad hisses.
“I didn’t touch her.” He holds his hands up. “I would never do that.”
“Was it the dress she was wearing when she caught you holding hands with your co-star?” I tease him some more.
“Stop reading the fucking tabloids.” He walks over to his black suit jacket and snatches it off the hanger.
“I didn’t read that in the tabloids. Mom told me.” His head whips around to look at my mother.
“What?” She cocks her hip out to the side and folds her arms over her chest. “She asked me how we met.” She raises her hand in the air, waving it. “And I had wine!” she shrieks, turning to pretend that it’s not a big deal. “We were bonding.”
“Yeah, she told me all the details.” I fake gag. “You attacking her in the elevator after you made out with that girl.”
“I didn’t touch her.” He points at me. “She was all over me like an octopus.” He pulls out his cuffs as he arranges his jacket. “Besides, I only had eyes for your mother.”
“Is that why you called your co-star to fuck it out?” I mimic my mother, cocking my hip out.
“Is nothing sacred?” He raises his eyebrows at my mother. “Did she tell you there was that one reporter who was all over her ass?” My father points at my mother, and I cough, trying not to laugh.
“Um, yeah, and how you got so jealous that you were, like, peeing all over her leg but still tried to bang your co-star.” I shake my head. “Anyway, it’s time to go. I have to get my shoes and do last-minute touch-ups on my lips.”
I run back to my room to grab the black heels, purse, and a little bag that holds a pair of flip-flops for after the red carpet. We take about twenty minutes to get on the party bus and make our way over to Gabriella and Romeo’s house.
The driveway has an insane number of party buses parked in it. “This is going to be a circus.”
“Yup,” my father agrees. “Try to be nice.”
I gasp. “I’m a ray of fucking sunshine,” I say, walking out of the party bus and toward the house. I don’t bother ringing the doorbell because there is no way they are running around naked with a million people in their house. They own two homes—one here and one in Dallas, where they live the majority of the time.
