The Beautiful Ones

Everyone was lounging in various stages of wakefulness around the suite. Cassandra stood awkwardly towards the back, aware of everyone’s eyes on her curiously. She was wearing a pair of black jeans and a black sweater, unsure of what she should have worn.

And there were the tennis shoes. But she didn’t have any other shoes.

“Good morning everyone,” Criss was sitting on the couch, petting Hammie. “Cassandra? Where are you?”

“Here,” she said shyly, pushing past a couple people. She put her hands behind her back, a nervous habit she’d had since being a young child.

“Come here and sit near me,” he patted the space on the couch.

“Oooh,” a few people called as she picked her way past the crowd and sat as the far opposite end of the couch. Hammie abandoned his master’s lap to go and curl up to her.

“This is my new personal and stage assistant, Cassandra. She’s eighteen and she just moved here, so I’d appreciate it if you waited to tell her all your horror stories about what a terrible slave driver I am.” Everyone chuckled appreciatively and Criss handed her a notebook and pen.
“Keep notes?”

“Sure,” Cassandra opened to a fresh page, crossing her legs at the knee. Every time someone spoke, she quickly jotted down whatever seemed relevant in what they were saying.

“All right,” Criss smiled when everyone seemed to have said what they needed to say. “Anything else?”

No one spoke.

“How about you tell us when you decided to get a stage assistant without bouncing the idea off anybody first?” Costa asked. The room filled with a thick, uncomfortable silence. Cassandra wished she could sink into the couch and disappear.

“Hey, it’s my show, and I don’t have to tell you everything I do.” Criss shot back. Cassandra felt her cheeks going pink. Several of the women in the room shot her sympathetic looks.

“Criss, we need to know how much she knows because this could be dangerous. She looks like she’s too young to die.” JD jumped in, trying to soothe his brother.

“I AM too young to die.” Cassandra mumbled.

“I take full responsibility for her.” Criss said. “Besides, even if it turns out she sucks on stage, she’s really good at licking envelopes, so I think we should keep her around. It won’t be a total loss.”

“She needs to have her hair and make up done if she’s going on stage with you.” One woman spoke up. Criss nodded.

“I was going to ask you about that, Leigh.”

“Hmm,” the woman crossed the room to look Cassandra over. She lifted the ends of her hair, examined her face. Cassandra remembered just then that she hadn’t washed her hair in three days, and her face was peeling from sunburn.
“I won’t lie. She needs work.”

“Now, wait just a second.” Cassandra glared.

“She does have a lovely facial structure though, and as soon as I trim off those split ends her hair will be perfect.” Leigh said quickly.

Cassandra didn’t know whether to be pleased at the compliments or upset over the statement that she needed work. After a minute or two of thinking, she decided that they balanced one another out like the woman hadn’t said anything at all.

“Okay! Well, let’s all go do some work. Cassandra and I have some errands to run.” Criss said as the crowd began to disburse.

Cassandra bit her lip and picked some cat hair off her sweater.