I never thought I could be so exhausted of being myself.
Today, however is something that I’ve been looking forward to. The 22nd annual International Fashion World Gala. Where all of the best minds in the fashion game come together to celebrate hard work, creativity and pure imagination. I’m being honored tonight for my contributions to fashion which seems strange. In some ways I feel like the same naive young man who was starting out ten years ago. Other days I feel about a million years old.
“Ouch. Merda!” I shake the finger that I just stabbed with the needle. That’s what I get for daydreaming when I’m working.
My tuxedo is going to be adorned with real feathers, each one hand sewn. The theme for tonight’s gala is “Animal Instincts” and I wanted a costume that symbolized freedom of expression while still being classic.
However if I don’t pay attention to what I’m doing, my costume will be a little too animalistic because it’ll be covered in blood.
The door behind me opens and my brother Philippe steps into the room. We’ve been staying at this hotel for the past few weeks, ever since we flew into the States. Philippe is wearing a tuxedo made from a midnight blue fabric that shimmers slightly every time he moves. The suit is perfectly tailored and fits like a glove. Not that I’m surprised. Philippe is a businessman through and through but takes his appearance seriously. He used to joke that I got all the creativity in the family while he got the good looks so he’d better make use of it.
Of course, he conveniently ignores the Hottest Man Alive magazine covers Kate insists on hanging in the office featuring none other than yours truly.
“What are you supposed to be?” I ask, taking in his sleek black tie and wingtips. It doesn’t look as though he’s put much effort into following the event’s theme.
“A man in a tuxedo who’s pissed he’s not at home with a glass of Lagavulin.” He smirks and flops down on the couch.
The suite consists of two master bedrooms, a kitchen and a living room. Usually when we travel, I don’t even know he’s there unless I seek him out. We often attend the same events but don’t leave together. Usually because Philippe has a date.
“What will your date be wearing?”
He grins. “Something that shows as much skin as possible. Hopefully that I’ll enjoy removing later tonight.” He narrows his eyes as he takes me in, as if seeing me for the first time. “Are you all right?”
I shift uncomfortably under his scrutiny. Suddenly I feel as if every one of the sleepless nights I’ve had lately is visible on my face. Just what I need on a night when I’ll be photographed from every angle.
The vultures that follow me around don’t concern me, they will angle until they get a bad photograph of me anyway. Those sell better. Everyone enjoys seeing their favorite celebrities look like shit. Hell, I’m not immune to that particular dark pleasure either. But I don’t want my brother to look too closely. He’s probably the only one who can see through my false smile and discover the turmoil right beneath my skin.
“I’m fine. Tonight is all about me, right? I’m going to enjoy this.”
He shakes his head slightly but doesn’t push. “All right. I’ll see you there. I need to go pick up…” His brow furrows and then he pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Yelena. I need to go pick up Yelena.”
Despite my mood, I burst into laughter. “Perhaps you should spend the ride memorizing her name.”
His rude hand gesture only makes me laugh harder. Speaking with my brother has renewed my enthusiasm for tonight. What I said to him wasn’t just lip service. I have been looking forward to this gala. For years, I didn’t feel welcome and then slowly as my online notoriety grew, I decided I didn’t care if I was accepted by the fashion world or not. Now I’m being honored and my place in the room is no longer contested. It’s everything I’ve been working toward.
When I finish sewing on the last feather, I slip the jacket on testing the fit. My reflection in the full length mirror leaning against the wall looks elegant and whimsical. Exactly as I hoped.
“I am going to enjoy this.”
Maybe if I repeat it often enough I’ll believe it.
A few hours later, it’s pretty clear I’m going to have
to eat those words. I finally give up all semblance of civility and just walk away from a conversation mid-sentence.
Not that I feel too bad. The woman my mother has been angling all night to set me up with immediately turns her attention to the next eligible bachelor. No doubt I am simply one of many possibilities on her list of candidates to flirt with tonight. As long as they have the right number of zeros in their bank account, I doubt she cares.
When I finally push my way through the crowd to reach the balcony doors, the humid air slaps me in the face. I’m probably going to regret my choice of attire tonight, tuxedos and humidity don’t mix, but I’m too happy to escape the horde inside to care. Hell, I’d rather sweat out here alone than be comfortable in the air conditioning in the midst of vultures.
But as I step closer to the railing, I become aware that I’m not alone. My mood plummets until I recognize the man hiding in the shadows. His dark hair, the exact same shade as mine, is tousled and there’s an unlit cigarette clamped between his lips.
“You’re hiding out too, I see.”
Philippe straightens slightly and flashes a tight smile. “Mamma is driving me crazy. I had to make up an excuse to get away.” He takes the cigarette from between his teeth. “I don’t even smoke.”
We both chuckle at that. I’m not surprised he’s willing to feign nicotine addiction. It’s actually rather brilliant. Maybe I should come up with a convenient excuse for why I need to step outside often.
That could turn out to be quite useful considering my mother’s current mission to shove every woman she knows of childbearing age in my direction. I hadn’t realized Philippe was getting the same treatment.