Star-crossed double-cross 17

Chapter 17 - Repercussions

Lucian wiped the sweat from his brow as he was ushered into what looked like a dressing room. Taking off his large, oversized coat, the cause of his overheating, he looked around the brightly lit room. On one side, almost covering the whole far wall, lay a table covered in assortments of drinks and snacks. Puffing out his cheeks, he looked away. It was too early to eat. It was too early for anything, especially sugary desserts, and greasy fast food.

The other side of the room had been set up as a dressing area. The focal point being a rack of glittery, colourful fabrics hanging above a row of towering high-heeled shoes. Adjacent to the expensive-looking garments would be his destination for the next hour or so, an elevated chair placed in front of a vanity covered in cosmetics and beauty products.

“Take a seat, Lucita,” Mariana instructed in a tired-sounding voice. “I’ll make us a coffee.”

Lucian nodded before shuffling over towards the chair. He knew what was expected of him that morning and didn't feel like talking.

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Having just finished dressing, Lucian sighed as he stood teetering on a pair of clear platform shoes. Looking down at his nylon-clad legs, peeping out from beneath a sparkling white tulle skirt, he noticed them glistening in the light of the dressing room.

“Come back over to the chair, please,” requested his makeup artist, who by this point no longer intimidated him with her masked face. “I need to finish your lips.”

Plodding over, Lucian smoothed his soft skirt beneath his pantied backside before arranging his feminine legs in a ladylike manner. The masked woman approached with a red lip lining pencil as the tired boy stared past her into the mirror behind.

The image he saw conjured up thoughts of a zombified beauty queen. Tired heavily made-up eyes stared back, surrounded by extended curled lashes drenched in mascara. It was a dramatic look for six-thirty in the morning, but with Bianca scheduled to sing her raunchy new pop song on the morning talk show, the time of day seemed to matter not.

His long dark hair, framing his overly-painted face, was now at maximum volume with a full can of hair spray having been used to create the wavy poodle-like do that flowed past the shoulders of his fitted, silky, peplum-style top to rest just above his fake blossom.

Five minutes later and his over-injected lips popped once again. Drenched in sticky lips gloss, they now matched his pantyhosed legs, gleaming in the artificial light like a diamond. It turned out to be perfect timing because just as the masked makeup artist finished her work, the dressing room door flew open. Fresh from her stage performance, In marched Bianca Cabello wearing an identical outfit. “Everybody out,” she hollered. “I want to speak to this bitch alone!”

“What’s this about?” countered a concerned-looking Mariana, jumping up from her chair to block the path of the incensed pop princess.

“None of your business,” Bianca shot back as she stormed towards Mariana on her stilt-like pumps. “Now move out of my way or so help me!”

“I can’t do that,” Mariana answered, staying calm as she placed her hands on her hips. “My job is to stay with her at all times.”

Stopping a yard in front of Mariana, Bianca angrily eyeballed the stern-faced Latina woman. “I’m not in the mood for this, Mari,” Bianca snarled through her glossy red lips. “I just want to talk to her. I’m not going to hurt her. So, how about you give us five minutes? Unless you want me to tell Raul about you and Diego and what you two got up to in Miami last October?”

Appearing as if she had just seen a ghost, a pale-faced Marian glanced at Lucian before turning to face the masked makeup artist. “Give them the room,” she declared, lowering her head in defeat.

“Thank you,” announced Bianca with a fake smile.

“What?” A shocked Lucian shouted. “You’re leaving?

Shaking her head and muttering an apology, Mariana stepped to the side. Then without looking up, she vacated the room, accompanied by the masked beautician.

With the closing of the door, Bianca folded her arms and glared at her look-alike. “So we're finally alone,” she announced forcefully. “There's a lot we need to talk about!”

Feeling intimidated as he peered up at the annoyed superstar, Lucian lent back in his chair, gripping the armrests tightly with his long-nailed fingers.

“Oh, don’t look so scared," Bianca stated as she glared down at the cross-dressed boy. "I meant what I said. I’m not going to hurt you. But that doesn’t mean I’m not angry. Why are you trying to fuck up my life?”

“I’m not,” Lucian replied, quivering. “I… I’m just…”

“Just acting like besties with that whore, Melena Gomez!” Bianca interrupted, stamping her tall stiletto heel loudly into the wooden floor beneath. “I mean after what she did, what were you thinking? First, she gets given the album written especially for me. But then, after it becomes a worldwide bestseller, she goes and steals the love of my life while touring it. I can’t stand the sight of that weaselly-looking backstabber. And now, thanks to you, I’m supposed to have forgiven her.” She added, turning her body to the side as she looked up at the ceiling, pouting. “Am I supposed to just pretend as if nothing has happened?”

“I’m sorry,” Lucian replied, shaking his head. “I never wanted any of this. I just wanted to help my mom. But crazy things just keep happening. I have no control over them.”

Turning to face her mirror image, Bianca scoffed. “Well, isn’t that noble of you. But I don’t give a crap about your mother. This is my life you’ve made a mess of! And you’re going to put things right.”

“Put things right! How?” Lucian exclaimed while folding his arms across his padded chest.

“Well, for starters, anytime Bianca is forced to be around that skanky Ho, that's going to be you and not me! But that's not all,” Bianca announced in a sinister-sounding voice while tapping her long acrylic nails together. “You're going to hurt her. Hurt her just like she hurt me. Together we’re going to deliver a little retribution to that rat-faced Judas!”

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Stepping out of the television studio into the warm morning sun, Lucian’s body was on autopilot as he tottered toward the car, waiting to whisk Bianca Cabello away.

(See image 17.1)

Ignoring the line of paparazzi shouting and snapping pictures, the sexily dressed boy trudged on. Once a terrifying prospect, the attention he garnered was now the least of his worries. He had much bigger issues to deal with as his life continued to spiral out of control.