Lipstick & Zombies (Deadly Divas Book 1) (19 page)

"Yes, especially today," Aimee said, sticking the phone in their bag. "I need you focused."

"Focus. Focus?" Dee stomped over to the other side of the room without explaining why that was so absurd. Carrie couldn't help but smile. A few weeks prior she wouldn't have thought she'd ever learn to tolerate Dee, and now she wasn't sure how she'd live without her. If Jo was fascinated by her naive honesty, Carrie was most charmed by her temper tantrums. It was everything Carrie worked
not
to be. Dee wasn't in control of herself at all.

Viktoria, Aimee, and Josh must have derived deep satisfaction from designing workout routines meant specifically to target whatever they had the greatest difficulty with. Carrie didn't much enjoy having all of her weaknesses pointed out, or having workouts be such a group activity. She used to love exercising alone, either with a new or trusted yoga routine, or a few hours in the dance studio. But the trainers had no interest in that. It was the five of them, sweating and grunting and lifting and pushing through pain all in one smelly room together. She did feel stronger already, though, so there was some benefit to the misery, and the distraction it provided was sorely needed. Sadie and Gerri were still questioning whether they should be in a band that represented such callousness. Dylan's death was sad—but quitting? Carrie didn't do such things. She wasn't sure what was going to happen if the others actually quit. It was hard to imagine anyone doing that. Didn't everyone want this? She hoped they'd come to their sense on their own.

About thirty minutes into their workout Viktoria and Aimee left for their normal fifteen minute bathroom break. It usually went over that fifteen minute mark, and Gerri had made loudly clear that she did not believe they were using the bathroom for its intended purpose. The more disheveled they were upon return, the more fun Gerri's day got. Carrie looked over at her, waiting for Gerri to raise her eyebrows suggestively or make a loud sound, but Gerri stayed focused on the treadmill in front of her.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Dee squealed. "I'm so clumsy." She giggled. It was so fake it made Carrie and Sadie laugh without knowing what it was about—Jo even cracked a smile, which Carrie figured counted as a laugh from her, and Gerri... something was wrong with Gerri. She wasn't noticing the world much.

"I'm soaked," Josh said. The whole front of his pants were wet.

"Oopsy." Dee gave a slight shrug, still holding the empty bottle.

"I'll be right back. I expect you to do twenty more before I'm back. No slacking, Dee."
"Sorry," Dee said again, and went back to climbing on her machine.

Josh held his pants away from his body as best he was able and left the gym. Before the doors even closed behind him Dee leapt from her machine and went straight for the phones.

"Hurry," she whispered, holding the bag out to the rest of them while her thumb zipped across her own screen. "Oh my god," Dee said. "Oh my god!"

"What?" Sadie asked, already with her own phone in hand.

"Finally," Dee said.

Carrie's phone had been attacked. She almost dropped the thing. Websites she didn't even know she had accounts at were notifying her of hundreds of messages. People she didn't even know had her direct number.

DefaultBoss:
Hey girl, looking good! Love to get together n hang out!

urmomwishes:
Hey you

Kara:
Hey Carrie! I didn't realize it was you who got the Deadly Divas spot. Good 4 U! Miss U! Could I be one of your backup dancers?

Kara had invited Carrie to a sleep over party once, before Carrie's mom died. It hadn't gone very well.

She almost missed the message from her dad, but there it was.

Dad:
You gave up school for this?

She sent him back a, “Yup”. She hadn't really given up school. She fully intended to finish school, to go to college, even. But what good did finishing school get her if she would just end up drafted to go fight zombies, dead, never having done anything she meant to? She was going to become famous now, and then, when she had time, she was going to finish school. She was going to be unstoppable. He'd see.

She put down her phone. The fame thing was starting. There was nothing to do but return to her workout. She went back to resenting the room full of people and wishing for even thirty minutes of silence. She had a feeling that was going to be missing from her life for a long time to come.

GERRI

Gerri's best friend, Nelly, hadn't written to her. She'd stopped messaging her a few days after Gerri left. She thought about messaging her, to ask if she'd seen the video, but of course she'd seen the video. Everyone had seen the video.

Nelly had really wanted that spot. But she couldn't stay mad at Gerri for getting it. That just wasn't fair. She'd call her up soon.

Mom:
You really found where you fit, honey. Good for you.

Dad:
We're so proud of you
.

All of her old boyfriends wanted to hang out.
Keep dreaming.
She didn't bother replying.

SADIE

She had messages from people who claimed to be her friends (she was pickier than that), people she knew from school, people who knew her through other people, more black girls than she'd ever seen in Fort Atlas—where had they been all her life?—and people she didn't know at all. Fort Atlas suddenly felt so much bigger than it ever had.

Mom:
Where'd my baby girl go? How'd you get so amazing? You know how amazing I thought you were when you learned to talk? You just improve with age, you beautiful girl, you. Your daddy is smiling right now. Believe it.

Anthony:
Hey sis. Wow. Did you know you were scary? Be careful for me, I flinched a few times. My sister, the warrior. I always knew you'd show us how it was done.

Her mom was only working one job now. She had time to do things, like sleep. Sadie was missing it, but she could imagine, and that was so much more than enough. Her mom followed up with a message telling her to visit, when she had time. Sadie promised, as soon as this concert was over, she'd make sure to get a few days off.

Sadie put her phone down, and tried to keep her head from flying right up to the ceiling.

DEE

Dad:
I can't believe you have to ask, of course you look pretty! You're the prettiest, kiddo.

Mom:
I told you you could do anything. All the neighbors keep coming over looking for you. Your dad's loving it. You know how he is. Bragging about his little star. You are so brave. Try to be a little scared, to keep yourself careful, okay? We love you, how much?

Dee:
2 the moon n back. Love ur faces. Never scared. Always careful. Love U more.

Her phone was so overloaded with messages that after she checked in with her parents, the battery died. She needed to get on a computer, like, hours ago.

JO

Jo didn't want to check her phone. She knew this was it. They were finally going to say something—there was no way her family could cover up that she'd left after this, no matter how tightly communications outside the community were guarded. Her family knew where she was, what she was doing, and they were going to have something to say about it.

Only they didn't.

Hundreds of messages on her phone—nothing compared to what Dee was reporting, but tons more than she'd expected as the scary survivalist—and not one from anyone she knew. She stared at her phone, waiting for it to appear.

They loved her. They'd loved her. She'd told herself over and over that their hearts belonged to the community first, that she'd never hear from them again, and still. She didn't know how much she'd expected them to come for her, until they didn't.

Angry footsteps charged down the hall and Dee quickly stashed the phones back in the bags. Before Aimee made it back in the room, she loudly whispered to the rest of them, "It's not like we can just quit now, especially when Dylan died, right?"

Sadie grunted. Gerri sighed. That was it for the talk of quitting, then. They were really Deadly Divas now. This was it.

WILLA’S PHONE

Meghan:
We have a problem.

Willa:
Handle it?

Meghan:
We have a big problem.

Chapter Sixteen

WILLA

"Oh, no, don't look away, you're going to miss my favorite!" Damien was having way too much fun with this. They all were. What were colleagues for, if not delighting at the slightest sign of failure? What the drones didn't understand was that this was part of the process; she had not failed. It was pointless explaining that to them, though, especially when the clips were so... rough.

Gerri was on the screen, leaning forward so the camera could see right down her sequined top. The girls had so much to say about fashion, and yet, wasn't that shirt looking a little evening for a morning interview?

"And there it is!" Damien laughed. The nip slip.

"I don't see what you're complaining about," Willa said. "They live for a good shot of nipple. They won't shut up about it."

"But—"

"But nothing. In that music video, they saw this one drenched in blood, a fierce killer woman who could stomp through them all, and here she is, charming and flirty with a nipple slipping out for the camera. Scandal, Damien? That's adorable."

"Don't worry, Willa, we have better."

"I assure you, I am fully up to date with the media."

"Don't ruin the show for the rest of us," he said, and clicked open the next clip. He'd compiled them all, and gathered a crowd in the meeting room to watch. It wasn't a real meeting. The custodian was there, and that girl who worked on the computers and frequently brought in donuts. It was exactly the kind of thing Damien would organize. He was even wearing a tuxedo. If she asked, she was sure he'd come up with a reason, some dinner plans or some other thing, but she knew the truth. It was to make him look better in this moment, sitting next to her. He was great at the show. He might have made a good Diva.

Willa would have avoided the invite to the “meeting”. She knew what it was going to be. But to have not shown would have made her look like a coward. She wouldn't give a child like Damien the idea that he had that kind of power.

They were watching the clip of Dee. An interviewer asked how things were going and whether being a Deadly Diva was going how she'd envisioned. Dee told them, “Well, Last Chance Records doesn't seem to totally know what they are doing, but not to worry, because
I'll take care of it
.”

Damien couldn't stop laughing. "They should have been prepped better than this. Isn't that your job, Willa? Sounds like Dee thinks she could take care of it if you're finding it too difficult."

"Why don't one of you give it a try,” she dared him. “I'm sure that Dee would appreciate the help."

They skipped through a bunch of footage from the group interviews. There had been different combinations of the band for each interview to balance the more talkative Divas with the quieter ones. A few brave journalists had been eager to get Jo alone. Willa had almost done it, just to shut them up. After ten minutes of interviewing the girl-who-wouldn't-talk, she doubted they'd want to try for it again, but it was too early to risk a reputation like that. For most of the interviews they were in groups of two or three, balancing each other out fairly well, but they couldn't avoid the five person panel, and that was where the worst of the footage lived, the stuff that was quickly becoming the most popular.

Gerri and Dee kept interrupting anyone and everyone, fighting for the spotlight, until Sadie got fed up with being in the background and shouted over them. Carrie eventually realized it was bad she wasn't participating in enough of the interviews and changed into another one of those poses she did—this one more provocative—and in a sultry voice that grabbed everyone's attention she told them about her deep, deep,
deep
love of music.

Honestly, Willa hadn't thought Carrie had it in her. They could bear to have more of that personality shine through.

Gerri wasn't having any of it, though. From there on out, every time Carrie spoke, Gerri coughed, or spoke over her, or finally, stomped on her foot and blocked her from the camera's view.

Their public fighting had begun. Already. It was potentially problematic.

"Wait, everyone, you're missing my favorite," Anna said. Traitorous monster. Anna was the only one who'd been in support of the band. Willa should have seen it coming, though. Anna was always “of the moment”, which was to say, she only cared about what was directly in front of her.

This clip was not an interview. No, it was so much worse than that. Chopped together from civilian footage, the girls walked down the sidewalk—as the media enjoyed pointing out, much like at the end of their debut music video—and were having a good time. Alone. Without a bodyguard, or Meghan, or
her
. They signed a few autographs when a couple different groups approached them, and then made their way into
Laurette O'Mare's
, to buy some of those clothes Dee said Last Chance Records was not supplying her with, undoubtedly.