- Chapter 13 -
QUEEN BEE’S POPULARITY: ON THE RISE
The Pop Source
May 3
Despite scarce public appearances and interviews, pop sensation Queen Bee’s fame has skyrocketed, according to polls. The teenaged songstress has gained not only recognition in the U.S, but fans as well. Her single “Tell the World” (for which she has shockingly not yet released a video) sat at number one on iTunes for several months before dropping to its current spot at number four. According to polls, 88% of pop fans are looking forward to purchasing her next single.
According to various hints and clues released by Bee’s team, her next U.S performance is widely believed to be at the “Today Show” summer concert series. In the meantime, fan sites continue to speculate over Bee’s true identity as well as the state of her relationship with R&B crooner Tyler Chase. Chase has made it clear that while he and Bee have met, he has not seen her in person since the Staples Center security meltdown that left the two pop stars unguarded amongst thousands of wild fans. Gossip hounds across the internet have also weighed in on the mystery of the situation. A commenter on blog “Her Royal Secrecy” writes: “Her real life must be 1000x better than Queen Bee’s if she is prioritizing it over fame and Tyler Chase.”
On the Monday back to school, eyes followed Gemma at every corner she turned. Behind her, she heard whispered recounts of the weekend. At Gemma’s insistence, Leah and Kate told her what rumors were going around. Gemma felt she deserved the pain of knowing what terrible things were being said about her. It was proof. Proof that having a “normal” life was not everything it was chalked up to be. She didn’t have the energy for it. She only had enough for one life, and she decided that she preferred Queen Bee’s. Somehow, it was less exhausting.
After school, she insisted Gavin and Damian let her walk home on her own. She felt guilty looking at either of them. She had complicated Gavin’s easygoing life by choosing an irresistible group of friends that she should have guessed would cause trouble. She could barely look Damian in the eye after the humiliation she had put him through. They were both so good to her even after the continuous episodes of drama. She had complicated their lives tremendously, and simply because Madison felt jealousy for something that didn’t exist. Gemma loved Damian. She almost hated Lucas now, for ever being a part of her life.
Gemma walked home through the winding back roads of the town, away from sight. She avoided the town center, the coffee shops, anywhere she would be seen returning home in her self-pitying mood. She was angry – mad at Lucas for ruining what could have been a perfect high school experience. Mad at Madison for taking her in and then turning her back. Mad at Jillian for not seeing through Madison’s ways. She was disappointed at Leah and Kate for being too scared to speak against the unfairness that she knew they saw.
It was her parents’ fault. Gemma would have felt fine touring or even just being in New York, hanging out with Armand and Penelope and being home-schooled on the road. She didn’t need friends her own age, a normal education, the high school experience – these were all things her father wanted for her just because he wanted her to be more like him. And now he wasn’t even in the country. He hardly ever called, always assuming that Mira had everything taken care of. He wasn’t there to support her.
By the time Gemma had found her way home, the sun was beginning to set. She had walked for hours, taking loops that prolonged her time alone. Gavin’s car was not yet in the driveway but Mira’s was. She was home early.
Gemma struggled with the stupid lock on the door. She furiously turned the key to no avail. It was the temperamental lock that got her into this whole mess – gave her time alone with Lucas and made her really fall for him. The door swung open and Mira stood inside, taking her Mikimoto pearl earrings off with one hand.
“Do you tear at the door like this everyday?” she tsked. Gemma stormed past her. Mira quickly grabbed the back of Gemma’s top. “Excuse you, young lady – what is going on?” Gemma turned towards her aunt and pulled herself free.
“I hate it here!” she screamed in a voice that shocked them both. She choked on her words, crying and covering her face in shame. Mira reached to embrace her but Gemma thrashed away, running towards her room. Mira followed. Gemma tried to close the heavy door in time but Mira intercepted.
“What is going on, honey?” she asked. Gemma could hear Mira’s steady voice trying to keep cool, though her eyes were beginning to show panic.
“I don’t want to be here,” Gemma cried. She felt a pain in her tightening throat. “I never wanted to be here. It was all of you, not me. It was Dad and now he’s not even here. I can’t do this!”
“Don’t scream! You have to preserve your voice.”
“Are you freaking serious?” Gemma almost laughed. She could see the hurt on Mira’s face but she couldn’t stop. “This is my life now, isn’t it? This house, this small town, this school, these horrible people. This is it.” She paused for just a moment, almost wishing for Mira to say that it wasn’t, that she could be just Queen Bee from now on and forget about Gemma. She didn’t. Gemma felt her tears stream down her heated cheeks. She kicked the pink ivory chair beside her vanity that Mira so loved. “I’m sick of having to worry about both lives. It makes me literally sick.”
“Gemma, honey, please,” Mira said softly, reaching for her.
“I can’t be Gemma. I can’t be this stupid, small town high schooler anymore. This isn’t who I am – I feel horrible as her. I’m Queen Bee. I only know how to be her. I can’t be confident, I can’t be a real person without her.”
“Gemma, this is exactly what your parents and I were afraid of,” Mira said sternly. “We don’t want you to lose yourself. We always knew you were a sweet, shy girl and we loved that you could be larger than life as Queen Bee – but you can’t lose Gemma.” Mira carefully placed her hand on Gemma’s shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly. “Queen Bee won’t last forever. What will you do when she’s gone? Who will you be friends with? What will your life be?”
Gemma turned away from Mira, gasping for air through her sobs. Through her tears she gazed at the train of the Balenciaga gown, peeking out from her closet. She floated towards it, touching the delicate material.
“Gemma,” Mira ran her hands through her hair in attempts to soothe her. “You’ll be so thankful you did this, trust me.”
Gemma shook her head. “Why can’t I just tell people who I am, then?” she whispered bitterly. Mira sighed and put her hands to her head.
“The moment you tell people who you are, you compromise Queen Bee’s persona.” Mira looked Gemma in the eye, gravely serious. “But that will be nothing compared to what you’ll have done to your life as Gemma Hunter. Do you remember the paparazzi, Gemma? Do you remember how you never had a moment to breathe with them around? Imagine them when you’re trying to get through finals or SATs, or just trying to shop with your friends…”
“What friends?” Gemma practically spat. “Do you even know what I’m dealing with at school? Do you know what everyone’s saying? I have nothing because I can’t defend myself, because I don’t even know who I am. Gemma Hunter is nothing.”
With that, Gemma stormed out of her room. She continued down the stairs and out of the front door. She ran into the darkness of the early evening and through the front and back yards of her neighbors. She heard the faint cries of her name behind her as she ran farther and farther from Mira. Not a single person in the world could know what she was going through and she hated that they were even trying.
~
Not so surprisingly, the outdoor basketball court where she watched Damian practice was rather lonely without him. Gemma had no idea what time it was. She had left her cell phone at home and had wandered aimlessly about town until she reached the court. It was surrounded by forest and had a soft patch of grass between the trees and cement. The grass reminded her of the picnics she would have with Damian after his hours of shooting. They would lay out on the soft grass, never bothering to use the blanket that Gemma always kept tucked into her Nanette Lepore straw tote.
Gemma spread herself across the grass, smelling its fresh summery scent. She didn’t care about the buzz of what were probably mosquitoes. Their presence just meant that the school year was almost over. In the still darkness, the sounds of crickets and rustling leaves in the breeze felt that much louder. She closed her eyes and listened, letting the sounds engulf her. For the first time in awhile, she flashed back to her concerts. To the hum of excitement in the audience. She wondered how it was possible that that part of her could feel so unreal and distant every time she left it.
Through her closed eyes, she could see a bright light. Gemma sat up to see a car pull in over the grass. She squinted to see if it was Gavin or Mira’s car. It was neither.
“Gemma?” she heard a boy’s voice call. She scrambled to her feet, trying to recognize the outline of the figure that was approaching. Her eyes had yet to adjust to the bright headlights.
“Damian?”
“No,” the figure let out an awkward laugh. “Sorry to disappoint.” Gemma could see now that it was Lucas. He was dressed in what she figured were his pajamas – a plain white t-shirt over flannel pants.
“How’d you know I was here?” she asked.
“Mira. She knocked on my door and asked if I could help Gavin look for you.”
“Is Gavin with you?”
“No. We drove separately to cover more ground. Mira’s still home just in case you go back on your own.”
“Oh God,” Gemma blushed. “I’m so sorry they asked you to do that.”
Lucas waved it off. “Are you okay? We got really worried when Damian and the girls didn’t even know where you were.”
“You guys called them?” she sounded more alarmed than she had meant to.
“Don’t worry,” Lucas said. “Gavin made it sound casual.”
“Well you’re here, so you know I just flipped out and ran off,” Gemma huffed, not bothering to hide her mortification. Lucas simply shrugged.
“What does it matter? I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“Why do you care?” Gemma retorted.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“You didn’t care when your girlfriend humiliated me in front of everyone – twice. You know I never tried anything with you. It was up to you to tell people the truth.” Gemma could hear the disdain drip from her words. It was as if she hadn’t realized her anger for Lucas until seeing him again. He opened his mouth to speak but she interrupted him. “How am I supposed to believe that you tried defending me when the whole school is still talking about me? You let them think I’m this pathetic girl who’s in love with her friend’s boyfriend, who flew into some stupid, jealous rage at your birthday party. You haven’t bothered to do a thing about it.” She breathed deeply to calm herself as she walked off. “You’re just as bad as she is.”
“Gemma, can I say something? You can’t just make these accusations and walk off.”
“What do you want to say, Lucas? Don’t tell me that you’re on my side here, or that you don’t believe I have some psychotic crush on you. That I’m just using Damian to be close to you. Because if that were true you would’ve cleared things up a long time ago.”
“I’m not going to tell you that because you already know it’s true. I don’t believe any of that. I know you love Damian. And you know I love Madison. We both know the truth.”
“So? No one will believe me. And you’re too afraid of Madison to say something to her, let alone the rest of the school.”
“That’s not the reason,” Lucas scowled. “Madison doesn’t own me. I’m not afraid of her.”
Gemma gulped, surprising even herself with her remark. She had hit a nerve, but her stubborn lips refused to form an apology. Lucas sighed, his hand on his chin. He opened and closed his mouth to say something that his own lips seemed to be resisting as well.
“I’ve wanted to say something to her. To everyone. But I can’t because I feel guilty.”
“Why? You’re not the one who keeps humiliating the person you’re dating.”
“You’re the only person who sees it that way,” Lucas said. She narrowed her eyes at him. “Fine. Other people might see it that way too. It probably does look bad that Damian’s girlfriend might like his teammate.”
Gemma groaned. Why is he torturing me?
“But it’s Madison who actually has something to worry about.”
Gemma crossed her arms sourly. “So you do think I have a crush on you.”
“No. I never said that.”
Gemma frowned, confused. She opened her mouth to ask for some sort of clarification, but Lucas’s cell phone began to ring. The ring tone practically echoed in the silence of the night. He took a few steps back from her before picking up.
“Hey Gavin,” he answered, his eyes on Gemma. “I found her. I’ll take her back now.”
The ride back felt like an eternity as Gemma debated whether or not she should ask Lucas what he had meant. Her stomach turned at the possibilities. It was more than enough to distract her from what she would have to face at home. Mira would no doubt be fuming. Gavin would definitely have reached his last straw with her. Gemma cringed. She wished she didn’t care so much about what her family thought.
Lucas said a short and hasty goodbye upon pulling into Gemma’s driveway. Gemma assumed it meant that he had no intention of clarifying his earlier statement about Madison. She decided not to bother asking and trudged towards the front door. Gavin was already home, standing in the doorframe. He looked disappointed more than angry, and it filled Gemma with shame.
“What the hell’s wrong with you, Gemma?”
“What’s wrong with me?” Her shame quickly morphed into irritation. “Not now, Gavin, please. I don’t need this.” She pushed past him but he followed, blocking her from going up the stairs.
“Don’t you realize you have everything? You’re going to just let some spat with a girl get you down? People go through worse and they don’t have a secret life to escape to, so grow up.”
With that, Gavin turned and went up to his room, shutting the door behind him. Gemma stood at the foot of the steps for a minute. She had never seen Gavin say anything seriously to anyone. She was too stunned to react to him, let alone respond. However her trance was broken upon hearing the sound of ripping. It sounded like ripping fabric, a sound she was familiar with from being on tour and getting outfits snagged. But this was not just ripping – it was shredding. Gemma could only imagine that Mira was behind the sound. With a pounding dread in her heart, Gemma made her way to her bedroom.
She had always known that Mira had a temper. Her father had told her many stories about Mira’s “switch.” “Once the switch goes off, you can see it in her eyes. All you can do is get out of her way and let her wreak havoc until she feels better.” Then, with a fond chuckle, her father would tell Gemma not to worry because Mira had since learned to control her anger. It was something they saw less as she got older – but like Gavin’s troublemaking tendencies, there was always the threat of its resurfacing.
Gemma could see now that this tendency had most definitely resurfaced.
Mira kneeled at the foot of Gemma’s dress form, clutching the Balenciaga gown. The metal of the shears in her hand gleamed menacingly as it tore through the train of the gown. Pearls ripped from the dress, bouncing away as if they were running from danger. Gemma stood at the doorframe in shock for a few moments before rushing to her dress.
“What are you doing?” her shrill voice quivered. “Stop!” Mira looked up at her. Beads of sweat were forming on her temples, running down her flushed cheekbones. Feathers, beading and cloth lay all around her. The gown was unrecognizable.
“Gemma,” Mira sighed. She looked relieved. There wasn’t the slightest hint of anger in her face. Gemma felt her body shaking as she touched the remnants of the dress in her hands. She prayed that her eyes had deceived her, but in her fingers, she could feel the legendary gown was in fact destroyed. It was no longer a gown at all. She ran her fingers across the cloth, tearing up.
“Why’d you do this?” she sobbed, pulling the dress off the form and cradling it in her arms.
“You can’t depend on Queen Bee to be secure.”
“Why not?” Gemma demanded. She ran her finger along the frayed ends of the dress. “She’s all I know at this point.”
“Because you haven’t given Gemma a chance yet. Don’t let one dumb girl take you down.” Mira eyed her. “I know you read the tabloids. The ones that like to make up stories about Queen Bee. I know it’s tough to keep a secret like this on top of being a teenager. But if you’ve survived the scrutiny of being an international pop star, I know you can be Gemma,” Mira persisted despite Gemma’s adamant head-shaking. “You deserve a life outside the fame, with school and friends your own age. In the long run, you’d be sorry if you missed Gemma’s life.”
“I don’t know what you guys want from me. I’m trying to live both lives,” Gemma sniffled as Mira gently took the torn dress from her arms. Tears dropped from her eyes as pearls did from the dress. “But I can’t have a normal life if I’m not truthful about who I am.”
“You can,” Mira said softly as she straightened a few feathers on the torn strap of the dress. “You can carry what you’ve learned from both into the other.”
“What do you mean?”
“Give Gemma some of Queen Bee’s confidence. After all, Bee benefits from Gemma’s compassion. You can see it when she tries to sign every single fan’s CD, even if there are a thousand of them. And when she defies her bodyguards to make a little girl’s dream come true by taking a picture with her.”
“Any singer would do that for a fan,” Gemma muttered. Mira draped the dress over her forearm and shook Gemma’s hair out from her bun. Her tresses fell in loose waves at her shoulders.
“You might think that, but you’d be surprised by how many stars forget about the people who made them famous. Do me a favor, will you?” Mira asked. “Put the gown on.”
“Why? It’s not even a dress anymore.”
“Of course it is,” Mira said plainly. “It’s no longer the one you thought you knew. That’s all.” She was clearly holding in excitement. It gave Gemma hope, though; she couldn’t imagine that the gown could still look good.
Gemma tried not to smile. “I think you’re crazy,” she laughed tentatively.
“Excuse me. I prefer the word ‘weird.’” Mira shoved the dress into Gemma’s arms. Gemma shot her a glance before pulling her sweatshirt over her head and kicking off her jeans. She felt the lightness of the gown. It was hard to believe it was once the dress she was so excited to get into. She slipped it on, bitterly noting that it was hardly a cocktail dress at this point. It didn’t give her the feeling of excitement and anticipation anymore. The feeling of empowerment. Now, the dress made her feel naked somehow.
The hem fell slightly above her knee. She felt a lump in her throat as she looked down at her bare legs. It normally draped like an iridescent silk river down her legs, around her ankles and into a pool of luxurious fabric behind her. It hurt her to know she’d never see the gown as she knew it again.
“There,” Gemma said, lips pursed and holding in a sob as she looked up at Mira. “Happy? I’m wearing it and I look crazy.”
“But you don’t,” Mira smiled. She turned Gemma towards the mirror.
Immediately and against her own will, Gemma sucked in a breath of shock.
She didn’t recognize what she was wearing. It was so far from the beautiful and flowing spectacle that she had grown accustomed to wearing during her closing number. It was short now – it was simplified. Streamlined. It may not have had any semblance to the original gown it once was, but it was stunning in its own right. It felt real.
“You would’ve looked crazy had you worn that gown anywhere but the stage or say, the Met Gala. But now you can wear it anywhere,” Mira faked a bubbly teenaged voice. “Like, I don’t know, to prom or something?”
Gemma spun around to look at Mira. She shrugged her shoulders in mock innocence, smiling.
“I don’t know if I can do that…” Gemma said.
“And why not?” Mira demanded, hands on her hips. “Isn’t every girl on the planet on some boutique waitlist hoping to get a replica of Queen Bee’s Balenciaga? I’d say you have the most authentic one.”
“I just can’t… this is still Queen Bee’s dress. I can’t pull this off.”
“Of course you can,” Mira insisted. “I can’t have you here day after day looking at that dress and feeling sorry for yourself. The dress doesn’t own you, nor does Queen Bee. You own them.” Mira winked. “Wear the dress to prom and bring a little bit of Bee’s heartthrob-winning confidence with you.”
Gemma smiled. The idea didn’t sound half bad.