"Let it be like yesterday. Please let me have happy days" David Bowie
The following day was Saturday, and we spent the day visiting Marie’s parent’s studio, and vintage shopping. Viv and Marie didn’t have to work this summer, but Marie applied at one of the vintage shops, to keep busy during the day. Since she was already sulky, I encouraged her to apply, so I could have a little space.
“I’m thinking about a new style.” I picked up a oversized black hat and put it on.
“Instead of 1950’s?” Viv asked, fingering peacock earrings.
“Yeah, maybe another era.”
“As long as it’s not 80’s. The legging revival is something I can do without.” Marie rolled her eyes. I picked up a pair of Victorian boots, absently.
“I just feel like I need a change.” I sighed.
“Oh, here it is, Jane. This would look amazing.” Viv pulled out a sequined flapper dress, in a size so small it could only fit someone with my structure: tiny.
I tried it on, and it skated over my nonexistent curves and fell to just below the knee. I pulled my hair into a side ponytail, sweeping my bangs sideways to see if it would look like a flapper.
“Oh with red lips! Janey, its perfect!” Marie enthused.
“And mary-janes.” Viv added.
“Now we have to go out tonight.” I twirled.
“Call that guy Steven.” Viv said, “He’s an actor, maybe he knows something good.”
I pulled out my phone, and dialed his number.
“Hey, darlin’” He drawled.
“I heard you were good at accents. What are you doing tonight?” Viv was holding up a 1920s hat and miming me wearing it, exaggeratedly.
“There’s this party for a British music magazine. Wanna be my plus one?”
“How about plus three? You know, Viv and Marie.” He had heard all about them on our date.
“If they are as lovely as you, I’d be honored.”
“Ok text me the address and we’ll meet you there at ten?”
“Sounds good.”

We arrived, and saw a cluster of paparazzi around the club.
“Jane! Over here.” I saw Steven smoking on the corner, waiting for us. I had on the hat and dress, Viv was wearing a sequined designer tank and the shortest leather skirt know to man, and Marie had on a sequined 1990’s bandage dress. We decided that all wearing sequins was too Dreamgirls-esque to pass up. Viv said we could always pretend to be a euro-pop group if we needed to get in. Steven had on a white tux shirt with a vest and a fedora, like most of the hipster boys were wearing those days. He looked slightly astonished by us.
“Jeez, make ME your plus one. It’s nice to meet you guys, I’m Steven. Jane didn’t tell me how…sparkly you were.”
They laughed and I felt a glow of pride that they liked him already. He was pretty adorable, I had to admit.
“Shall we?” he extended both arms to us. We all linked arms with him, me on one side and them on the other and walked to the entrance. The paparazzi yelled his name, and he posed with us. Some reported kept asking who we were, and Viv yelled that we were a French pop group. We would all laugh hysterically the next day when gossip blogs would talk about Steven Doyle’s harem of French pop starlets.
We walked in, Viv blowing kisses back at the photographers, who catcalled. The first thing I saw was a huge poster of The Wake.
“What is this for again?”
“Oh a release party for this band’s EP thrown by a British music magazine or something.” Steven shrugged.
“Uh, the leader singer is my…ex-boyfriend.” I suddenly felt very small, and very claustrophobic.
“Do you want to go?” He looked concerned.
“No, stay Jane. I want to!” Marie pouted.
“I’ll just avoid him.” I breathed in an out slowly.
I got a drink from the open bar, and tried to just relax. I gulped it down, and the texted Leo and Yuki to come. I need more support. I also wanted Yuki to see my outfit. I excused myself to the bathroom. As I walked across the room, the crowd parted and I saw Andrew. I had been putting this off for months, and my heart leaped into my throat. He and I made eye contact, and he looked away, immediately. I hurried into the bathroom, fighting tears. Viv had followed me in, and pulled out her mini-pharmacy. I did a line of coke, and took a valium.
“That’s better. Think about this: you’re here with a cute actor, and your two best friends who will beat Andrew’s ass for you if he steps out of line.”
“Thanks, G.I Jane.” I raised my eyebrows at her attempt at toughness.
“No problem.” She nodded, with a mock-hard face.
“You look like Marie when she’s angry.” I laughed.
I was in a much better mood when I found Steven, who was chatting with one of his former co-stars, a slightly bigger actor. He introduced me as his date, and I introduced Viv. Viv batted her eyelashes and swung her hips around, and eventually they went to get a drink. I pulled Steven to the dance floor, even though it was a song by the band, and danced with him. It was odd, because I knew all of the words and every chord progression like I knew my own name. I felt eyes on me and saw Andrew looking at me with contempt. Marie was talking to Jason nearby him, and I felt betrayed a little. How could she talk to him with Andrew right there? He had kissed her for god’s sake. And they all hated me. I tried to ignore the nagging thoughts, and pulled Steven closer. I kissed him, and felt nothing really. But I kissed again him anyway.
We stumbled out near dawn, and I went back to Stevens’. We passed out before we had sex. The next morning I called Leo from the cab ride home in my ridiculously apparent cab ride of shame dress. The cab driver looked at me knowingly in the rearview mirror.
“Hey homie! She greeted me.
“hey I didn’t see you last night!”
“Oh I saw you getting hot and heavy with your movie star.”
“Oh jeez.” I found myself using little colloquialisms like hers whenever we talked.
“Girl, do you know you three are on Hipnights.com?”
“What? No!” The website was a nationally known party photo site with pictures of semi-famous people and attractive hipster unknowns that kids in Omaha looked at to decide how to dress.
“Yep. You three have been here like a week, right? Crazy girls.”
“I’ll have to tell them. I’ll see you Monday, ok?”
I hung up and smiled. Take that Andrew. I was okay without him.