“I immediately regret this decision.”
Snorting, I glare to Tommy, who’s currently standing beside me at the entrance of the hotel ballroom, and whisper-yell to him, “For the love of God, stop quoting Ron Burgundy. This night is already a headache in the making, don’t make it a migraine.”
I drag him through the doors after the security –yes, security, Julie went all out on this- checks my invitation.
The theme is a crème de la crème of clichés. An Oscars-themed gala dinner. All around the ballroom, the glamourous champagne-coloured décor seemed to fill every ceiling, wall and table. Crystal lights twine the floral centrepieces on the tables. Plush champagne ribbons surround the elegant white-glazed seats, while the table itself is covered in a satin champagne sheet.
A long red carpet leads from the entrance down to the stage, splitting the ballroom in two. The background of the stage features a VENUS logo with an Oscar statue next to it on either side, while contrasting light and dark lights create an alluring atmosphere around the stage. “Happy Thirtieth” banners and balloons are filled in every corner in the hall. And of course, lots and lots of photographers. People are dressed in gowns and black-ties or tuxedos.
I’m just standing here in my hot pink dress looking gob-smacked with a Ron Burgundy wannabe.
“I can’t do this, this is too much exposure. I need to find Julie and- a- a- atchoo! Fuck. I need to find her and skedaddle from here.” My eyes scan the crowds of elegant snobs, looking for porcelain, skinny redhead with an ice-like aura surrounding her. Finding her in the midst of three penguins and a parakeet took about twenty seconds.
Grabbing Tommy through our linked arms, I head towards her, carefully avoiding colliding with people that seem to be thrown in my direction, while my companion just streams through in a straight line, grabbing a champagne flute from a passing waiter and not giving any fucks in the world. Reaching Julie, I observe her overall look, taking in her extravagant long evening dress that looks straight out of an Elie Saab haute couture, with sequins and beads carefully embroidered in lavish designs on sheer material, champagne coloured – of course-, and high creamy stilettos that look fit to kill.
The rest of her crowd consist of three men in posh tuxedos, tailored to perfection, and a young woman in her early twenties hanging off the arm of one of the men, dressed in a canary yellow and lime green cocktail dress.
Clearing my throat, Julie rotates her head to my direction, and a fake smile –well, sort of- appears on her painted face.
“Ahh, Cassie, how wonderful it is that you came, darling,” the fake bitch turns to her crowd and smiles more, “this is a young and talented columnist we have at Venus and she’s nominated for the Star Columnist award tonight. She brings in hundreds of letters and emails weekly to Venus, unfortunately she’s a bit shy socially.” She fake laughs, along with the other penguins, and pats my arm vaguely. “Cassie darling, the three gentlemen here are from the magazine’s most important shareholders, Mr. Abbott, Mr. Greywood and Mr. Devlin. The beautiful lady here is Mr. Devlin’s girlfriend, Ms. Amy Cooper.”
I smile politely to the gentlemen, “Lovely to meet you all,” I nod my head towards Tommy while looking Julia, “This here is my date, Mr. Tom Dixon.”
Tommy shakes hands with Amy and the gentlemen, and he takes Julie’s frosted hand, and smirks while looking at her, “Call me Tommy. You must be the Julie I’ve heard so much about,” he kisses the back of her hand, while I’m silently wishing for a pair of ear muffs to avoid hearing the next line of bullshit, “Alas, she never mentioned how utterly divine you look. You look good, I mean real good. A Stunning, beautiful and definitely delicious woman, you make me feel like a teenager looking at a hot teacher.”
The Ice Bitch laughs. Never in the past six years have I heard her laugh, and now she laughs like a hyena, while the rest of the penguins, parakeet and I are knocked for six with jaws dropping. Personally, I’m traumatized.
“Oh Tommy, you are absolutely charismatic, you’re tempting me to behave like a teenage girl along with your playfulness,” she purrs while still cackling. I think I barfed a little in my mouth. “Honestly, Cassie, how is it I never met this wonderful young man before?”
“Umm-”
“Never mind, dear, be a darling and get me a flute. Tommy, sweetheart, tell me about yourself.” She dismisses me with a waving hand.
Annoyed, I spot a waiter carrying a tray of bubbly flutes, and I stick two fingers in my mouth and blow a long, loud whistle to catch his attention –along with everyone else within the five meter radius-, and wave him over pointing to Julie.
Manners be damned. I’ll make her regret bringing me here.
Julie and the penguins look appalled, while Tommy is muffling his laughter in his hand, his green eyes dancing a little forest dance within the colour.
“A-a-achtoo!” I sneezed in my hand, and wipe it along my dress. “Right, Julie. I’m absolutely sick, I came to show my face and say hi, thank you for the nomination and leave. I highly doubt I’ll win this award anyway, so my presence won’t matter.”
“Excuse me, Ms. Cassie, what column is it that you write? I’m surprised Julie has even kept you in the magazine with those horrendous manners of ours. By God, I’ve never been more revolted,” sneers penguin number three, the one with the parakeet.
“My column is under another name. It doesn’t matter which column, all that matters is that my column comes in the top three column revenues repeatedly during each quarter of the year. That’s all you should worry about.” I say, scoffing at his lewd insult. Noticing the parakeet eye-fucking Tommy, I turn to her saying “And you, keep your gold-digging, grimy paws off my date.”
Faking shock and turning red, she squeaks “Excuse me, you bitch! He’s been flirting with me all the time,” she turns her face to her boyfriend pouting and then to Tommy, “Take your horrible girlfriend away from here.”
Tommy stiffens his jaw, but smiles at her while saying “Why don’t you go back to your home on Whore Island?” he turns to the penguin and gives him a note, “Your girlfriend just slipped me her phone number on a note in my front pocket, keep it.”
I have never loved Ron Burgundy more than now.
She shrieks –yes shrieks- while turning red, “HE’S LYING.”
Her boyfriend takes the note from Tommy, looks at it, and then turns facing her while scowling, “You slut. We’re over! Take your gold-digging ass out of here.”
I can’t stifle a laugh anymore, Tommy and I are just snickering at the scene in front of us, while other spectators are laughing and others hold their hands to their mouths.
However, Julie looks at me like she’s about to commit murder, and grasps me by my arm and drags me to the side. Bitterly, she whispers “I hope you’re happy at the scene you’ve both caused. You will not get that award after this stunt. I don’t want to see you in any event ever again, politely dismiss yourselves and leave.” She gives me one last spiteful look, and moves away. Aw boo-hoo.
Haaa-lle-lujah. Thank you, Tommy!
I link arms with Tommy, and look at the penguins, smiling politely “Sorry gentlemen, I’m a bit sick so my mood is a bit off tonight. I apologise for my manners and I hope no offense is taken” and I hope the sticks remain forever shoved up your asses.
Tommy waves goodbye, and we turn around half-skipping our way out of the ballroom.
Once outside, I start laughing loudly, holding my arms around my stomach, and Tommy joins in guffawing deeply. Tears fill my eyes from laughing too much, and I dance around swirling in happiness. Tommy takes my hands and starts dancing and twirling as well. It’s a beautiful moment, in a beautiful night, and nothing can beat my happiness.
He brings me in for a tight hug, wrapping his arms around my waist, nuzzling his head in my hair, and whispers “You were brilliant tonight, love. I loved how you stood up to those snobs.”
Well, I’ll be damned.
I pull him back, look into his forest greens and smile cheekily, “And you, Ron Burgundy, were outstanding as fuck. Thank you for tonight.” I take his hand in mine, and we walk together, towards a nearby cab to go home.
Once I get home, I kick off my shoes and throw myself on the couch. My mobile rings and I groan lazily. Damn it, I just got on the couch.
Grumbling, I get up and open my clutch, taking out my mobile. Noticing the name on caller ID, I answer immediately grinning.
“Major! Bit late for a call isn’t it?”
“Is that how you greet your father, young woman?”
Smiling cheekily, knowing he can’t see me, I reply “Sorry Major, my old man always told me to get to the point.”
A bark of laughter fills my ears. “He raised you well, I see. Are we on for brunch tomorrow at fourteen-hundred?”
“You can say two p.m., Daddy, I’m not a recruit. And yes, we are on for Brunch tomorrow. Meet you at the Bryant Park Café.”
“Superb. See you tomorrow, Cassy-bear.”
Giggling, I reply our usual goodbye, “See you, Popsy-bear.”
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A/N:
Shit meet fan. Fan meet shit.
Now that's over. Time to meet the one and only Major General Henderson.
Life gets interesting after it.
Stay awesome,
Tamieh 💜
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Chagrin Confessions
ChickLitFor six years, Chagrin Confessions has been a leading relationship advice column in Venus magazine, in which women all around the world seek out the blunt yet wise words of advice of Madame Cleo. Cassie Henderson is a sassy and intelligent woman...
