Lipstick & Zombies (Deadly Divas Book 1)

by McKay, Faith

  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.

  Damien could not stop smiling. "If the paparazzi can keep track of them, why can't you?"

  And then a large group of people with cameras surrounded the shop. Different footage gave an idea of the growing crowd. When the girls made it out of the store they realized they were cornered. They didn't greet the crowd or ask them to let them through, not that the crowd would have heard over the fans' screaming. No. Willa's Divas fought the crowd off with their shopping bags, and those useful zombie fighting skills they'd been learning. Once they'd hurt enough people to get through the crowd, they raced the rest of the way home, stopping only to pick up the clothing items that spilled from their ripped bags.

  Damien pointed at the screen. "Oh! Oh! And!" Dee dropped a dress in the street just as a particularly quick fan caught up and snatched the dress. Rather than tugging the dress from their arms, and risk damaging the fabric, Dee smiled up at them. She said something as the mob approached—she told Willa later she offered them an autograph—and when the person was disarmed by her kindness, Dee drew back and slammed her palm into their jaw. She grabbed her dress and ran for it.

  "I mean, talk about spunk,” Damien applauded. “If a zombie ever tries to go for her shoe collection, we'll have a real show on our hands."

  Willa rose from the table. "You're such a clever asshole, I could listen to the shit you spew all day, but honestly, I have things to do. I think we're done here."

  "Well, I'm not done," Damien said.

  "You have fun then." She sent another message to Meghan while walking back to her office. It was time to get some real work done.

  DEADLY DIVAS’ PHONES

  DEE

  Mom: Good girl! Don't let anyone touch you. Next time leave the dress. I know you're tough, but it's not worth the risk. Keep on fighting.

  Dee: Mom. It was a Laurette O'Mare. Don't worry so much.

  SADIE

  Mom: If you have time for shopping, can't you make time for me? I could meet you somewhere. Miss u.

  Sadie: Last minute group thing. After the first concert. I promise.

  Mom: Just miss you. Sorry. I know you're working hard. It's weird not seeing you every day. You're a piece of me. Text messages and paparazzi photos are not a workable prosthesis.

  Sadie: Prosthetic daughter. Ask Anthony to make one.

  Mom: I'll wait for you, baby girl. Stay safe. Love you.

  GERRI

  Dad: U and the clothes. smh

  Gerri: :)

  Chapter Seventeen

  SADIE

  Meghan had been lecturing them for over fifteen minutes. Sadie had started a timer, right before she'd stuck in her earbuds—which Meghan promptly ripped out and threw in the toilet. It took four flushes for them to finally go down. That was something none of Sadie's teachers had tried.

  "I just don't think you girls understand the opportunity you've been given," Meghan said. Again.

  Carrie saluted her.

  "I'll be back when you girls have had some time to think about that."

  Carrie called after her, "We'll miss you!"

  "Oh, leave her be," Sadie said. "She's had a hard day."

  "No one leaves me be when I've had a hard time," Carrie grumbled.

  They were all exhausted. The
ir brilliant plan to sneak out of Last Chance Records had not gone so well. There had been a brief in their schedule, just before they were supposed to meet with Marcus and his team for a fitting. Sadie had not been looking forward to more arguments about her wardrobe, and neither were any of the rest of them. A shopping trip felt like a brilliant alternative, and honestly, how much more could they take of being in that building where so much had happened? A jailbreak was just what they needed.

  So, they'd been mobbed. It was still worth it. Especially because they'd gotten out of their session with the stylist. They'd come back and gone right into their voice training, and then a rehearsal with Tammi and Marvin and Noah. Meghan skipped their dinner. When they asked about it, they were told they should have thought about that while they were out on their little adventure. Then she'd started ranting at them as soon as they got home. If Meghan expected them to take her lecture seriously after she'd refused to let them eat, she had another thing coming. They'd chomped down burgers while she'd talked.

  "The dinner entertainment could use some work," Sadie said.

  A chorus of grunts agreed with her.

  The girls were flopped out over the sofas and chairs, legs strewn about haphazardly, phones in front of their faces. Sadie wanted to go to her bed and fall asleep, but honestly, who had the energy for such a venture?

  Dee opened a site that started playing Warriors.

  Sadie groaned. "Is anyone else sick of that damned song already?"

  "We could write our own songs," Carrie suggested. "I like to do that."

  "I'd be a good help," Dee said.

  "Me, too," Gerri said. "I've done it a few times."

  "What were they about?" Dee asked.

  "Sex," Gerri said.

  "All of them?" Carrie asked.

  "Yeah," Gerri said. "All the best songs are."

  Sadie didn't want to bother arguing with that. Instead, she tried a different angle, assuming everyone would agree. "That might be embarrassing," Sadie said. "I mean, how many songs about sex do we really want to sing? Everyone's going to hear us."

  "So what?" Gerri shrugged and put her phone down to pay more attention, now that she was the one talking. "It's not like anyone out there thinks we're virgins. And they always say if you're going to do it you should be able to talk about it." A thought occurred to her, evidenced by the scrunching of her forehead, and Gerri quickly looked at each of them. "You have all done it, right?"

  "No," Jo said boldly. Sadie wondered if Jo ever felt uncomfortable about anything.

  "So we have bigger problems than your, you know, everything," Gerri said, gesturing to all of their clothes and then faces. "Well, okay. Is it a confidence thing? Because, really, girls, you just need to have your way with a few cavemen and things'll work themselves out."

  "Cavemen?" Dee asked.

  "Son of a corpse," Sadie cursed. "Why did you have to ask?"

  "Cavemen, you know," Gerri said. "Big guys that aren't altogether smart, undateable really, but who will dumbly worship you for a few hours and perk you up a bit. Remind you that you are glorious and oh-so-much-better than other people. Boost your confidence. Get you out there. Seriously, this can't be good for you. Like, unhealthy. Is your vagina okay? Does it, like, hurt?"

  Before anyone had the misfortune of having to answer that, Dee chimed in. "Oh yeah! I heard about that. Stuff can like, grow down there. Sex cleans you out. But you at least, like, masturbate right? I mean everybody—"

  "Enough!" Carrie yelled, and then put her hands in front of her face, but without touching her own skin. She was always acutely aware of her makeup, and everything else about herself. "Sorry. I just can't stand this jabbering right now. I think my chakras are still out of whack. Sorry. Really."

  Jo rolled her eyes. "I'd rather hear about Dee's vagina problems than your chakras."

  "Hey, my vagina doesn't have any problems!" Dee jumped up. "Seriously, guys, my vagina's fine. I have sex regularly. My special place is perfectly special and fine, okay? Don't you be telling anybody any different, alright?"

  Sadie took a deep breath. "Wow. I think we hit a sensitive button here."

  Gerri rolled back in her seat laughing. "Was that not a pun?"

  "I think I like cavemen, if I'm getting the idea," Dee said. "I like boys mostly for dancing and groping and, you know, stuff. They're a really good time. But most of my more-than-a-night dates have been girls. I've never had anything real with a boy.”

  Gerri raised her eyebrows. "Sounds like you're a lesbian to me."

  "I'm bi," Dee corrected.

  "That's not how it works," Gerri said. "If you're bi or whatever then you see boys and girls as the same."

  "Oh really?" Carrie asked. "Is that how it works?"

  "Uh, yeah," Gerri said.

  "I'm so glad Dee knows now," Carrie said. "She'll be sure to inform her sexuality."

  Gerri turned a full power glare on Carrie. Sadie's internal alarms sent up a warning, but she didn't know if she really had the energy to redirect this, or if she'd even want to if she could. Once she was sure all eyes were on her, Gerri said, "Why are you being such a bitch, Carrie?"

  "Because you are," Dee said. "You don't get to just tell me who I am and how I work."

  "You're a kid. Someone has to," Gerri said.

  "She's a kid?" Carrie asked. "And what are you? Our lord and master?"

  "And what's that supposed to mean?"

  "This is a five person group, not your four person back up band," Carrie said.

  "She's not wrong," Sadie said.

  "Hey!" Dee stood and put her hands on her hips. "This is not what we were talking about!"

  "It kind of is, Dee," Carrie said. "Gerri thinks she knows everything."

  "This isn't what we're here for," Jo said.

  "What are we here for then?" Carrie asked.

  Whenever the five of them went quiet the room felt eerie. This time, the growing tension hurt every one of Sadie's muscles. She wanted someone to just yell and get it over with, anything to break the silence. How did none of them have an answer?

  "I thought we were here to spread the message about killing corpses," Jo said.

  "And sing," Sadie added.

  "And dance," Gerri said.

  "What about putting the dead to rest?" Jo asked.

  "Oh my god," Gerri said. "Honey, nobody cares. Shut up about zombies! We live on this side of the wall."

  "But—"

  "We all signed up for this to avoid the draft, didn't we?" Gerri asked.

  Another one of those pauses. Nobody liked to talk about the draft.

  Dee was much braver than anyone else in these situations. "I just wanted to be fabulous, famous, adored. You know."

  Jo crossed her arms over her chest. "That wouldn't happen if you were eaten, would it?"

  And then the worst silence they'd had yet overtook the room. Even Dee sat back on the sofa and avoided eye contact. No one said it, because no one had to. Dylan. Dylan. Someone ate Dylan.

  "Tomorrow's the first full rehearsal," Carrie finally said. "We should probably get to bed."

  "Yeah," Sadie agreed, and slunk out of the room before anyone could make it any worse.

  EUREKA! NEWSFEED

  CONCERT TICKETS SOLD OUT

  THE DRESS SHE ALMOST LOST

  TROLLS STILL THREATENING DIVAS, AND THEIR FANS!

  MILITARY SIGNUPS RISE HALF A PERCENT, COINCIDENCE?

  WHAT'S REAL IN THEIR VIDEO, AND WHAT THEY FAKED

  WHAT THE DEADLY DIVAS BOUGHT ON THEIR SHOPPING TRIP

  Chapter Eighteen

  CARRIE

  "This is taking too long," Gerri said.

  "It takes however long it takes," Noah said.

  "Again, from the top!" Tammi shouted.

  "This is impossible," Gerri grumbled.

  The music started up again. It was the third day of rehearsals. Sweat had long ago washed the makeup from their faces. Dee was right about the lack of quality in their products. Sadie had argued that th
ey shouldn't even be wearing it in rehearsal, but Carrie disagreed. They should be practicing in the same circumstances they'd be in on show night. The makeup was a bad sign.

  Noah had rigged the stage so that dummies moved in the same pattern he'd be putting the zombies in for show night. In the music video, the camera caught everything because they wanted it to look as real and raw as possible. This was different. For the live performance, they had lit and decorated the stage to cover the equipment. On show night, they would put carefully restrained zombies onto the stage during some of the songs—a few during the opening number and a few more than that in the finale. Their teeth were removed, their limbs all attached to different things that would control their every move. It might have actually been creepier than seeing them walking around freely, but it wasn't a problem for the show, so Carrie didn't waste energy thinking about it. The blood spatter was their biggest problem, and they each had three people waiting for them behind set to get them cleaned up and ready to go back out after the first number, in as close to ninety seconds as they could manage. It was a challenge, but they'd been through bigger ones already in their Deadly Diva careers. So Carrie was taking it all in with deep, calming, breaths and a commitment to not turning her thoughts to poison that would further unbalance her.

  Gerri's grumbling was the biggest problem. There was no ignoring it, there was no breathing through it, or dealing with it, because it was constant, all day, every day. Even when Gerri locked herself away in her room, she played her music at top volume and regularly made loud calls to people where she griped about the rest of them.

  Sadie insisted that they needed to give her space and not push, that they needed to avoid starting fights. Carrie could see the wisdom in that. Shouting at Gerri to shut up had a certain ring of wisdom to it, too.

  "You're ready. You're all looking great so far," Noah said.

  "I wouldn't go that far," Tammi amended behind his back.