We stood there, on the outskirts of the party. Ryan had managed to corner the film exec and seemed to be doing a great job charming him. There was laughter and backslapping and handshaking.
Somehow Wyatt had ended up behind the bar and was lining up shots for guests. How he managed to get all these glamorous Parisians in their glittery, sparkling masquerade-like costumes to throw back tequila shots, I’d never know. Such was the mystery and power of Wyatt.
I looked around for Cal and his waitress, but they had disappeared from their cozy corner. That jealous feeling returned, gnawing at my stomach. Or maybe that was just hunger. I hadn’t eaten much today. There had been a few too many images of me lately where I looked bloated. It was just easier to skip a meal or two, especially when I knew I was at risk of getting photographed.
“Do you want to go back to the hotel and watch some TV in French?” Harriet asked.
I was torn. On the one hand, I could tell Harriet was kind of bored, but on the other, I knew that this was a rare opportunity. For both of us. How many times in a life did one get to attend a fancy Halloween party at an expensive Parisian apartment while on a worldwide tour? And I wanted to share all the perks and benefits of my job with my best friend.
“You guys aren’t leaving, are you?”
Cal had appeared out of nowhere. He was alone.
“We were thinking about it,” Harriet said. “No one gets our costumes.”
“Judy Garland and Dorothy,” Cal said. “Thematic. Nice.”
Harriet shrugged.
“How about another kind of party?” Cal asked.
“What kind?” Harriet asked.
“The kind you’d like,” he said. “I promise.”
“Where’s your friend?” I asked, unable to keep the jealousy at bay.
Cal gave me and Harriet an eyebrow wiggle. “At the other party,” he said.
Suddenly this party seemed good enough.
“I don’t know,” I said. “We can’t just leave Ryan.”
We all looked over toward the other side of the room where Ryan had been. He was gone.
“I think he left with that movie exec,” Cal said.
I wasn’t really surprised, and I couldn’t blame Ryan. I knew he had big plans—plans that went beyond CrushZone—and he was always looking for opportunity. Sometimes I felt like I should do the same, but the truth was it was exhausting enough being Katee Rose. At least Ryan had the other guys; they didn’t all have to be on all the time. There was just one of me.
Plus, no one ever seemed to comment on Ryan’s weight or Cal’s hair or Wyatt’s cold sores.
“Come on,” Cal said. “Elizabeth said it would be a good time. I promise you’ll love it.”
I really didn’t want to go and hang out at another party with Cal and his paramour, but I glanced over at Harriet, and she was already nodding eagerly. Even though I knew she’d be fine if I told her that I wanted to stay here or go back to the hotel, I could tell that she’d prefer to see more of Paris.
“Fine,” I said. “Let’s go.”
* * *
The annoying thing about Cal was that he was usually right.
“This. Is. Awesome,” Harriet said.
Elizabeth, the waitress, had finished her shift, ushered us into a cab, and taken us to a movie theater in a far less fancy part of the city.
“You know the show?” she asked.
“Rocky Horror?” Harriet asked. “Uh, yeah. We know it.”
“Très bien,” Elizabeth said. “Then you know what to expect.”
I didn’t. Because even though I knew the show—what musical theatre kid didn’t—I’d only seen the movie at home. And it turned out that watching it live in a theater with an audience was a completely different experience.
Harriet gave me the rundown. Not only were there going to be actors onstage dressed up as the characters, but there was a whole call-and-response thing—with props! Plus the entire thing was in French.
Not a single person seemed to recognize me. The theater was crowded, and Elizabeth had disappeared after getting us situated. I didn’t realize that she’d given Cal a bag of props until he passed me and Harriet some pieces of toast.
“I’m not hungry,” I said.
A lie. I was starving.
“It’s for the show,” Harriet said. “You throw it at the screen.”
“What? Why?”
Cal shrugged. “It’s just part of the fun. When Frank-N-Furter says ‘toast,’ you throw bread. But I guess in French it would be pain, maybe?”
“Where did you learn all this?” I asked.
“NYU would do Rocky Horror every Halloween,” he said. “It was run by all the theatre kids who didn’t want to do Shakespeare and Ibsen.”
“Fordham did it too,” Harriet said. “It’s a lot more fun live. And a lot raunchier.”
I felt a twinge of envy. I didn’t regret not going to college, but there were times—when Cal or Harriet would mention things they’d done or memories they shared—when I felt left out. Not just from their conversation but from life. From all the things young adults were expected to do.
Because even though they hadn’t gone to the same college, there were times when their experiences seemed so parallel that it was hard to believe it wasn’t universal. Or supposed to be universal.
What kind of person would I have been if I’d gone to college? If I’d gone to Rocky Horror every Halloween with my friends? If I’d been that kind of theatre kid?
But there was no point in wondering. That hadn’t been my life.
Instead of morning classes, I’d had early call times. Instead of spring break, I went on tour. Instead of school dances, I went to award shows.
I didn’t regret it. This is what I wanted. What I’d always wanted.
We were in Paris for fuck’s sake. Paris.
The best hotels. The best food. The most exclusive experiences.
I was the reason we were here watching Rocky Horror in the first place. I was the reason we were watching Tim Curry on-screen—and a look-alike onstage—strut around while a room of people screamed at the screen in French. I didn’t realize until she came out onstage in an enormous red wig and a completely different waitress outfit that Cal’s date was in the show as well.
And experiencing it live was absolutely the best way to see it.
The audience was raucous and vocal. Despite being given the heads-up about audience participation, I didn’t expect the extremely explicit callbacks that were constantly being shouted at the screen. Thankfully, both Cal and Harriet would shout them out in English, so I at least understood what was going on, but also, I didn’t.