correct term for a multitude of supermodels?” Candace asked. “Gaggle?”
“It is indeed, Candace.”
“Pimping out your own sister for exposure is a bit morally bankrupt,” I said.
“Supermodels were invented to sell shit to people,” Vivi said. “What’s the point of being a direct blood relative of one if I don’t occasionally utilize her for profit?”
“Oh my God, Iris!” A hand waved frantically from the line. “Here!”
Jennifer Weir and Justine Khan were standing close to the front. Jennifer was the one waving at me. Justine had her arms crossed and was staring straight ahead, her jaw set tight.
“Friends of yours?” Vivi muttered as Jennifer ducked out of the line and tugged Justine after her.
“Mortal enemies, actually,” I muttered back.
“Oh my God, I hoped we’d run into you!” Jennifer said. “We got here early and have been waiting in line for, like, an hour.”
“Big fans of the band?” Vivi asked.
“Oh, sure, yeah,” Jennifer said.
Vivi’s gaze slid to Justine. “You look familiar.” My sister clicked her fingers and pointed at her. “I know! You’re the girl who shaved her head in front of the whole school! That was so metal.” Vivi reached out and curled a lock of Justine’s long hair around her finger. “It’s a shame you let it grow out. I much preferred it short.”
“Don’t fucking touch me, witch,” Justine snapped. She turned and stormed toward an Italian restaurant across the road.
“Justine! Justine!” Jennifer called. “Sorry about her. I don’t know what her problem is.” Jennifer turned back to me. “Is your sister here? Is she still coming?”
“I’m her sister,” Vivi offered.
“I think she’s coming,” I said. “We haven’t heard from her today.”
“Do you think you’ll go to Cuckoo afterward?” Jennifer asked. “Oh my God, do you think Tyler Yang will be there?”
“Cuckoo?”
“Only the coolest and most ultra-exclusive nightclub in London. Duh. It’s impossible for regular humans to get in, but Grey and Tyler go all the time when she’s here.”
A slow, sharp smile spread across Vivi’s face. She despised when people talked about our sister like they knew her. Grey was ours. She belonged to us. “We’ll be sure to let you know,” she said, maintaining the smile. “See you later.”
Jennifer was apparently unaware that she’d been dismissed. “Oh, actually, I kind of lost my place in line. Do you think I could come in with you? I would love to see backstage.”
Vivi took one long last drag on her cigarette and let the clove-scented smoke bloom in Jennifer’s face. “Do you know any of our music—or are you just here to starfuck Grey? Can you name one song?”
Jennifer stumbled over her words. “I . . . I don’t think . . . That’s not fair.”
“Actually,” Vivi said as she stubbed out her cigarette with her boot, “what’s our band called?”
Again, Jennifer made gasping fish sounds.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Vivi said. “Back in line.”
“Ah. Classic Vivi. Making friends wherever she goes,” Laura mused as the bouncers opened the doors for us and we made our way inside.
Vivi threw her arms around her bandmates’ shoulders and swaggered into the club like the rock star she was. “Starfuckers never change,” she said, oblivious to the fact that I would be the one who’d have to face said starfucker—now glaring at me with her arms crossed—and her henchwomen at school tomorrow.
* * *
We hung out backstage while the support act warmed up the crowd. Then, when Sisters of the Sacred took the stage and Grey was still MIA, I messaged her again:
They’re starting. WHERE. ARE. YOU?
It was weird for her not to have seen my previous messages. Vivi could go weeks without checking social media, but Grey was chained to it. I opened Instagram. My account was set to private, but I had thousands of message requests. Everybody wants a piece of you when your sister is famous. Or rather, they want a piece of your sister, and they want you to deliver it to them. Ghouls haunted my Instagram, my Facebook, hungry for a filtered taste of her.
You go to school with my cousin. I think you’re so hot. Send me a pic of you naked, beautiful. (Or your sister if you’re too shy!)
Tell Grey that if she breaks Tyler’s heart I will literally kill her. Literally.
Hey, I have a theory about what happened to you as a kid. Have you considered the possibility that you were abducted by aliens? My best friend’s great-uncle works at Area 51 and she says he has proof. I can share the details for a