Every Pearl Has Its Oyster (14 page)

“Let’s try again,” Damian said, hanging from the silks with his legs as he held Gemma’s waist with both hands. She stiffened in his grasp, reaching both hands to grip the silk above her. “Relax. You were doing fine just a second before.” Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Damian unravel himself until he was holding onto his silks in an upright position. “Do you want to get down?”

“I want to get this over with.”

“Okay,” Damian said, his voice calm and soothing. “Let’s do that.” He stayed quiet, taking Gemma’s lead as she twirled herself back up into an inverted pose. She hung a couple feet above him, watching as he anchored his feet on the end of the silks and leaned back to look up at her. A small gust of wind picked up the end of the silk wrapped around her leg and blew it behind her. It billowed out, waving gently like a rising sail on a boat. Darlene snapped frame after frame as Gemma changed positions, propelling herself around Damian as she continued posing. She had no idea what she looked like but suspected things were going rather well considering the smile on everyone’s faces. They barely even noticed that each new pose she struck landed her just a little closer to the ground. Once she felt the tickle of the blades of grass beneath her, she let go of the silks and unwrapped her ankles. She looked up to see Damian doing the same.

He eyed her with suspicion, sensing as always that something was on her mind. Gemma looked away for a moment, already sad for what she knew was about to come out of her mouth.

“So we just have that one more thing, right? The launch party for Thierry and then our contract’s done,” Gemma started. Damian nodded. “You know, I was thinking, from now on we should probably keep everything between us professional.”

“Professional?” Damian asked, confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean other than for work,” Gemma breathed. She exhaled before she finished. “Other than for work, we shouldn’t talk anymore.”

“What?” Damian laughed, uncomfortably. “We barely get to talk now. It’s always just a few minutes at something like this or some group outing or sponsor event.” He furrowed his brows, his mouth agape as if he had more to say but couldn’t. He stopped himself, pressing his hands to his mouth. Gemma had never seen him look so disturbed. “Did I do something to upset you?”

“No. Not me,” Gemma said, tears welling in her eyes. Damian raised an eyebrow.

“Did Tyler ask you to do this?”

“No!” Gemma exclaimed. “No, he didn’t ask me to do this, I just thought it was something I needed to do for our relationship. Because it upsets him.”

“It upsets him that we talk a collective, I don’t know, hour or so a month? If at all?”

“No, it’s not how much we talk,” Gemma shook her head. “He thinks I share more with you than I do with him.”

“Do you?” Damian looked at her, eyes wide. She looked back for a moment before pursing her lips and casting her gaze towards the ground.

“I can’t give Tyler the history that you and I have,” Gemma said.

“So you’ll make it fair by giving him a present and future that I can’t share with you.”

“Damian…” Gemma kept shaking her head, watching her tears drop to the ground.

“No, I get it, it’s fine. It makes sense,” Damian bit his lip as he thought about it. “I get it. You have to do what’s good for you. So let’s keep things professional.” He backed away, running his hands over his hair as he turned towards his trailer. Gemma watched as he turned to look at her again, as if to ask if she meant it. She stood her ground. He nodded, pursing his lips. “I’ll see you at the event.”

“C’mon, Bee, how are you not changed yet?” Perrin yelled. Gemma turned to see her gesturing towards their car. “We need to get to Cliff before he leaves for Nashville and there is so much to discuss.”

“I’m not going,” Gemma said, bitterly. “Do you even need me there? My opinion hardly seems to matter anymore.” She stormed towards her trailer, seeing Perrin heave a deep sigh from the corner of her eye.

“What’s your problem these days?” Perrin yelled after her. Gemma didn’t answer. She wouldn’t know where to start.

QUEEN BEE AND DAMIAN EVANS: ALMOST NUDE FOR WANDERLUST!

The Durt

September 20th

Check out the latest picture snapped of Queen Bee and Damian Evans on their latest shoot for Thierry Marc fragrance, Wanderlust. Wearing just skintight white shorts, Evans shows off his NBA-toned muscles as he holds onto Bee in her equally tight, white bodysuit. Knowing all about Bee and Evans’ romantic history, would it be too much to assume that this sexy couple totally enjoyed seeing each other in spandex? We think not! And neither does a juicy source close to the set.

“
It honestly couldn’t be more obvious that Damian and Bee are into each other,” said our source. “They don’t even talk sometimes – they just give each other these looks. That only happens when people know each other real well.”

Ooh baby. That’s the kind of Durt we love here! Sorry Tyler Chase, but put our names on the list of Supporters for the Union of Bee & Damian!

“Zoe, get back in the car! People have literally died doing this!”

Gemma grabbed Zoe by the tiered lace of her dress, wheezing with laughter as Harper helped to pull the top half of her body back into the car. Despite being held down in her seat, Zoe continued to whoop exuberantly out the window.

“Ladies night, baby!” she screamed, blowing kisses at all the shocked fans who shrieked and waved at them from their own vehicles. They fumbled to grab their cameras and snap a picture of the trio in the backseat of the SUV, heading out for what Gemma had declared an “emergency girl’s night.” Between Oro’s impossible demands, Tyler wild temper and her recent cut-off from Damian, she’d been overwhelmingly stressed and in need of just one off night – one night to just have fun instead of discover something new to be stressed about. Thankfully whenever she fell upon such times, she could always rely on Zoe to distract her from her troubles. Zoe, after all, took her best friend duties very seriously. Before heading out for the club, she’d gone to Tyler’s house with a Trader Joe’s bag full of sugary snacks for Gemma to munch on while she whipped up homemade margaritas and helped her pick an outfit from the walk-in closet. She ultimately settled on one of Gemma’s own designs – a backless peplum-waist mini dress with a sexy halter neckline.

“Yay, lovies! We’re here!” Zoe sang when the car stopped in front of the nightclub on Sunset. Huddled on the sidewalk in front of the building was a massive, standstill line of club goers as well as a good handful of photographers. “Ah shit, the paps are already here,” Zoe grumbled as she climbed out of the backseat in her strappy Jimmy Choos. She flashed Gemma an apologetic look. “Sorry, boo. I didn’t even tell anyone we were coming.”

Gemma brushed it off, especially since the paparazzi didn’t even seem prepared for her as she approached the door with the girls. Like the fans on the street, they fumbled to ready their cameras for her, barely able to snap any shots or even shout her name before she disappeared into the club. That was weird, Gemma thought.

“Maybe they weren’t here for Bee,” Harper mused as they headed for their private booth, escorted by two hostesses and tailed by security.

“Pfft! Who would they be here for besides Bee?” Zoe asked, skipping merrily in her four-inch heels and running her fingers along the lace-covered walls. “God, I’m so happy to be done with that movie! Can we just go out every night for the next few months? I need to make up for lost time.” She stuck her tongue out when she was met with blank stares. “Ugh, never mind. Why did I even bother to ask Health Nut and Married Person?”

Harper shrugged but Gemma snorted. “Married Person?”

“You might as well be!” Zoe pouted, stomping her foot and feigning a tantrum – as if there weren’t enough people staring. Harper rolled her eyes as they all took a seat in the corner booth of the packed room.

“Don’t even listen to her, Bee. She can’t really talk considering she Skypes with Gavin like, four nights a week.”

Gemma blinked. “That’s it?”

“That’s it?” Zoe repeated incredulously. “The boy has school and basketball to worry about! And I have… ” She turned to Harper. “What do I have again?”

“You’re supposed to be reading scripts, but you’ve been going out instead.”

“Oh yeah.” Zoe grinned, playing with the ends of her dark, wavy hair. “What can I say? I’m a child of the night. I’m fueled by champagne and music.”

“Well here’s your champagne,” Harper said. She nodded towards the leggy cocktail waitress heading their way, cradling a magnum of Dom Perignon. “Did we order that?” she asked, looking quizzically at Gemma.

“Who cares, it’s a sign! Now all I need is some good music and we’re ready to roll!” Zoe squealed, clapping her hands. She paused for a moment, tilting her ear towards the speakers to identify the song blaring from the DJ booth. Her pert nose crinkled. “Eugh, what is this?” she asked the waitress. Gemma listened. She recognized the racy verse.

My trap is wild/My trap is strong/Once you’re inside it/It won’t be long/You are my prisoner/I know it’s wrong/I’ve got you baby/Where you belong.

“It’s Romy,” the waitress answered before Gemma could.

Harper squinted as she squeezed a wedge of lime into her seltzer. “Who’s Romy?”

The waitress smiled evenly. Once she finished pouring the two flutes of champagne, she held the large bottle up. “The girl who sent you this,” she said before setting it down on the table and walking away. Gemma froze, her champagne flute just inches from her lips. Only then did she notice that the waitress had placed the bottle on top of a large white envelope. Gemma slid it out from under the champagne, frowning as she read the note scribbled on it in girly cursive.

Cheers to you for being more ‘authentic’ than me... or so you claim.

xo, Romy

P.S Figured I’d get you the big bottle since your album is tanking ;)

“What the fuck?” Zoe promptly sputtered after reading the note over Gemma’s shoulder. “She calls going like triple platinum tanking? Where is this bitch?” She jumped up on the booth, her heels digging into the leather upholstery before Harper pulled her down. “Screw this, I’m ordering my own magnum. Waitress!”

“Zoe, stop. Hold on a second,” Gemma murmured, still staring at the note. “What’s this about being more ‘authentic’ than her? I never said anything like that.”

“She’s probably on acid, Bee, I mean look at her. You have to be tripping to wear something like that,” Zoe said, pointing to the middle of the room. There, a massive entourage surrounded a square-shaped booth. Several members were already looking their way. When they parted, Gemma spotted Romy. It was hard to believe that she hadn’t spotted her earlier – she was wearing a black mesh jumpsuit with pasties shaped like leather paw prints. Framing her face was a fire-colored wig in the shape of a lion’s head. Gemma was almost too busy staring at how much more ridiculous she looked in person to notice her holding up both hands – or rather, both fingers.

“Really?” Zoe sprang back up to her feet along with Harper, who, falling back on old habits, brought her drink to chest level in case she’d soon have to throw it.

“Guys, stop! Don’t go over there, just wait a second,” Gemma said, slipping her fingers into the envelope and feeling a glossy stack of paper. She pulled it out – a magazine, though she was unsure which one. With trepidation, she turned it over to look at the front, unable to help the sense of dread in the pit of her stomach – as if she’d missed something. As if she might somehow be guilty for whatever Romy was accusing her of. Once it was flipped to the cover page, she and the girls stared.

“What. The. Fuck?” Zoe’s anger had dissolved into total confusion. Gemma gawked, unsure if she was more disgusted or humiliated.

Gracing the cover was Queen Bee – or at least Queen Bee’s face. She didn’t recognize the rest of herself because despite the seamless photoshopping, she knew it wasn’t her. From the neck down, someone else’s body wore only a garter and leather booty shorts while sticking up two middle fingers, strategically placed in front of her naked breasts. Once she got over the shock of the image, Gemma read the headlines.

QB TELLS ALL ABOUT HER NEW LOOK & HER BEEF WITH ROMY!

Before she knew it, her anxious hands had flipped to the page of her so-called interview. She read the quotes aloud with a mixture of awe and disbelief.

“‘When asked about her competition with singer-slash-rapper Romy, Bee said, ‘I’d rather not acknowledge someone as pathetically manufactured as her… but I will say that her lyrics aren’t based on anything real or interesting like mine. Mine are authentic and the ordeal I’ve been through this past year has only brought more passion to my singing.’”

Zoe exhaled. “What the fuck.”

Gemma was silent as she let the magazine drop to the ground. She’d read enough. She was mortified, and she knew exactly who was to blame. With the eyes of Romy, her entourage and the entire club on her, she rose to her feet and made an angry beeline for the door.

“It’s past midnight. Where are you going right now, Bee?” Andro asked, immediately on her tail. Gemma continued pacing. She didn’t care what time it was.

“I’m going to Oro Records.”

ROMY RUNS QUEEN BEE OUT OF CLUB FOR MAGAZINE DISS

Pop Dinner

October 2nd

This is why you don’t adopt a new “badass” image, trash talk a rising artist to Pitch Magazine and call yourself Q.B – because there are consequences to talking the talk. You have to walk the walk, which is precisely what rapper Romy forced Queen Bee to do when she saw her at the club tonight. As a response to being called “manufactured” and “pathetic,” Romy sent Queen Bee’s table the offending issue of Pitch (which hits newsstands today). Accompanying the magazine was a note, which according to witnesses, was so threatening that it caused Bee to eventually run out of the club in fear.

Womp, womp! What happened to the new, tough Q.B. that we were supposed to be meeting? Too bad. Guess she realized that she couldn’t keep up the ridiculous act.