Spinning

Chapter 43: Plots and more plots

The next morning was weird. Surprisingly, I was not hungover. Even more surprisingly, I was energetic. Somewhat. The ball of despair still hung achingly around my heart, but I felt an energy to action, something compelling me to understand Victoria, find her flaws, perhaps to bolster my own crumbling ego. She appears flawless, after all.
I was up as Susan frantically started making phone calls and was clicking madly at her computer. I trolled Victoria's Instagram some more, happy that Eddie could sleep through Susan's neuroses.
Around 9, Susan woke everyone up, to my dismay, so I quickly took ownership of the bathroom. I stared at my reflection, contrasting my cold blue-gray eyes to her green, my heavy bottom lip to her balanced lips, my brown hair to her blonde. I splashed my face with cold water, intending to do the full Monty of makeup, although I knew it would fall short of the beauty standard I was trying to reach.
Before I could start, however, Susan pulled me out of the bathroom, saying we were leaving for the day. My protests fell on deaf ears, and soon I found myself on the streets of LA in Birkenstocks, leggings and an oversized hoodie. The death grip on my wrist withstood every possible escape I concocted to at least run back and put mascara on. I felt so bare, so exposed, and began nervously checking my surroundings for Victoria. I couldn't begin to fathom what level of ugly she would think of me now... I put my hood up, and my eyes started patrolling.
Susan led us to a quick breakfast. No sign of Victoria. We followed Susan to a dry cleaner, where she picked up at least 10 bulky items, all covered, that were split between myself, Eddie and Chris to carry. Still no Victoria. I faintly heard Chris griping about the weight of the dry cleaning, but my Victoria paranoia made it impossible for me to recall what he said.
Susan's still on the phone, I'm following the pack blindly, having only eyes for a flash of bouncy blonde hair, when I'm pulled from my frantic watching.
"Jordan. JORDAN."
Everyone is looking at me. Susan is stressed, Chris is smirking, Eddie is worried. What did I miss?
"What?"
"Susan, leave her alone. She doesn't know the torment you have in store for her." Chris's smirk grows bigger, and Eddie looks like he's been punched in the stomach.
"Shut up, Chris. Jordan, are you feeling okay? Are you up for, uh, an eventful day?"
"I'm fine, why?"
"You're not hungover?"
"No, why?"
"Nothing... er, well, we have some appointments we have to go to."
"Okay..." Stop bothering me, woman. I need to resume my lookout.
"Um, okay." Susan seems unsure of something. "Boys, you take the clothes and go meet—" Susan glances coyly at me "—everyone, and make sure you read the name tags before handing everything out."
Handing everything out? Chris and Eddie are leaving us? To go where? To Victoria? My panic rises. At least here, I could watch Eddie...
"And we'll pick you up at what, six?"
"Six?! Chris, I told you so many times it's three!" Susan's voice cracked in near hysteria, that turned into fury as Chris doubled over laughing. She hit him in the bag with her purse.
"Please, PLEASE, tell me you remember the plan..."
"'Course I do. Pick you up at three, then McDonalds drive-thru, and a couple of road sodas..." Chris's voice trailed off seeing the distress on Susan's face. He kissed her on the forehead, saying, "3 o'clock sharp. No eating until we are inside. Love you."
Chris turned left down the next block, and I was surprised to feel a kiss on my cheek and a quiet "see you later" from Eddie, as he turned and followed him. My cold heart warmed ever so slightly.
Finally, finally, I'm sensing something weird is going on.
"Susan, what the hell is the plan for today?"
But Susan was already walking away, past where Chris had turned, and I had to jog to keep up.
"Susan!"
"Keep walking Jordan, we are late."
"Late to what?"
"We, uh, we are having a girls day while the men take care of some music business."
"What kind of business? We had a girls day yesterday..." I whined.
"Uh, a music video... around LA, some cool landmarks and stuff. So, uh, they can't be late to anything or the police won't close down the roads they need for filming."
Susan is a terrible liar, but I'm now more distressed about our girls day part 2. I'm sick of LA already, and don't need the stress of Susan weighing me down anymore.
"What does today's girls day entail?"
Susan looks down at her watch, and picks up her pace. I'm nearly out of breath.
"Quick mani/pedi now, then I thought it would be fun to get our haircut."
"What?! Oh hell no!" I immediately finger the tips of my hair, my precious hair...
"Jordan, it'll just be a trim. Your split ends are getting out of hand."
Susan's bluntness stuns me for a moment, and I quickly fall 10 feet behind her.
"Is it really that bad?"
"Yes." Another blunt answer. It stings more than I expected. Victoria is to blame, I suspect.
"Okay... and then after?"
"Makeup."
"Makeup?! Oh thank god."
Susan peers at me curiously without breaking stride.
"You threw me on the streets of LA without even my goddamn chapstick! I need the makeup desperately!"
Susan chuckles nervously, before sharply turning right. I almost run into her.
"Hey, isn't this—"
"Ma cherie! E ma autre cherie! Bienvenue, encore!"
"Bonjour, Olivier. Ca va?"
"Ca va bien, bien sur! Et toi?"
"Pas mal." I throw in a wink for good measure.
Susan jumps in before any more French could continue.
"Olivier, could we..."
"Ah, oui, oui, one moment…"
Olivier disappears behind a counter to a back room, but quickly returns with two garment bags on hangers and two shoe boxes.
"Would you like the purse I mentioned?"
"Oh, uh, yes I think so. You have the other one?"
"Oui, it is in this one." Olivier shakes the hanger and I hear some faint rustling. Susan takes that hanger, and I'm given the other, as Olivier disappears for a second time. This time, he reappears with presumably a handbag, tucked away in a protective pouch.
"You will love this one," Olivier says as he hands the pouch to me. I don't have the heart to tell him the clothes are not for me. I smile back and nod.
"Ah! And one more detail...". Olivier disappears for a third time, longer than before.
"These came in last week. Magnifique!" I watch closely as Olivier takes out a pair of sunglasses from a case, opens them carefully and places them on the bridge of my nose.
I turn to Susan: "how do they look?" half jokingly. Susan, very seriously, replies, "Fabulous."
I guess my hair could use a trim.