And U2's "Even Better Than the Real Thing" bursts out as we enter the main room of the club and someone calls out "Action!" again and there are already hundreds of people here and immediately Chloe is pounced on by a new group of photographers and then the camera crews are pushing their way toward her and I let go of her hand, allowing myself to be repositioned by the crowd over to one of the bars, actively ignoring celebs and fans, Lauren following close behind, and I nab the bartender's attention and order a glass of Veuve Clicquot for Lauren and a Glenlivet for myself and we just stand there while I'm admiring Patrick Woodroffe's lighting design and how it plays off all the floor-to-ceiling black velvet and Lauren's thinking I-don't-even-know-what as she downs the champagne and motions for another one and glancing over at her I finally have to say "Baby..." and then I lean in and nuzzle her cheek with my lips so briefly it wouldn't register to anyone except someone standing right behind me and I breathe in and close my eyes and when I open them I look to her for a reaction.
She's gripping the champagne flute so tightly her knuckles are white and I'm afraid it will shatter and she's glaring past me at someone behind my back and when I turn around I almost drop my glass but with my other hand hold the bottom to keep it steady.
Alison finishes a Stoli martini and asks the bartender for another without looking at him, waiting for a kiss from me.
I grin boyishly while composing myself and kiss her lightly on the cheek but she's staring back at Lauren when I do this as if I were invisible, which tonight, for maybe the first time in my life, I sort of wish I was. Harry Connick, Jr., Bruce Hulce and Patrick Kelly jostle by. I look away, then down.
"So-o-o... another Stoli?" I ask Alison.
"I am now entering the stolar system," Alison says, staring at Lauren. Casually, to block her view, I lean into the bar.
"Welcome to the state of relaxation," I say "jovially." "Er, enjoy your, um, stay."
"You ass**le," Alison mutters, rolling her eyes, then grabs the drink from the bartender and downs it in one gulp. Coughing lightly, she lifts my arm and uses my jacket sleeve to wipe her mouth.
"Um... baby?" I start uncertainly.
"Thank you, Victor," she says, too politely.
"Um... you're welcome."
A tap on the shoulder and I turn from Alison and lean in toward Lauren, who very sweetly asks, "What do you two see in that bitch?"
"Let's redirect our conversation elsewhere, 'kay?"
"Spare me, you loser," Lauren giggles.
Luckily Ione Skye and Adam Horowitz push through the crowd toward me-an opening I seize upon.
"Hey! What's new, pu**ycat?" I smile, arms outstretched.
"Meow," Ione purrs, offering her cheek.
"Excuse me while I kiss the Skye," I say, taking it.
"Yuck," I hear Alison mutter behind me.
Camera flashes explode from the middle of the room like short bursts from a damaged strobe light and Ione and Adam slip away into the churning crowd and I've lit a cigarette and am generally just fumbling around looking for an ashtray while Lauren and Alison stare at each other with mutual loathing. Damien spots me and extracts himself from Penelope Ann Miller and as he moves closer and sees who I'm standing between he stops, almost tripping over this really cool midget somebody brought. Shocked, I mouth Come here.
He glances at Lauren mournfully but keeps blinking because of all the cameras flashing and then he's pushed forward by the crowd and now he's shaking my hand too formally, careful not to touch either girl, neither one responding to his presence anyway. Behind him Chloe and Baxter are answering questions in front of camera crews and Christy Turlington, John Woo, Sara Gilbert and Charles Barkley slide by.
"We need to talk," Damien says, leaning in toward me. "It's crucial."
"I, um, don't think that's such a good idea right... now, um, dude," I say with careful, deliberate phrasing.
"For once you may have a point." He tries to smile through a scowl while nodding at Lauren and Alison.
"I think I'm going to take Lauren over to the 'Entertainment Tonight' camera crew, okay?" I say.
"I have got to talk to you now, Victor," Damien growls.
Suddenly he reaches through the crowd and grabs Baxter, yanking him away from Chloe and the MTV camera crew, and then whispers something in Baxter's ear and U2 turns into the Dream Warriors' "My Definition of a Boombastic Jazz Style." Lauren and Alison have both lit cigarettes and are blowing smoke directly into each other's faces. Baxter's nodding intently and lets Damien sandwich him at the bar-in a style I wish was slightly more subtle-between Alison and Lauren, filling the empty space where I used to stand.
