23.

The room was filling up fast. I mentally ticked guests off the VIP list as they flowed onto the red carpet and posed for photos. There were soap stars, singers, reality-show hosts, footy players (all codes), as well as a smorgasbord of the city’s media hawks. Newspapers, magazines, radio, websites and blogs — they were all there, each clinging to their own kind.

The Blue Dames were performing an acoustic set, and I’d noticed several men leering at them over the tops of their champagne glasses. Liani, who’d slipped into her cream dress, was air-kissing each guest; Harrison was in videographer mode; and there was still no word from Sia, or James. Kat was nowhere to be seen. Without anyone to chat to, I plucked a hot dog — miniature-sized, of course — from a passing platter, and used my other hand to scroll through my phone’s inbox.

And there it was: an email from Angel. She’d been MIA for over a month (I’d convinced myself that she’d been kidnapped by pirates in Europe) so I clicked on the little envelope icon faster than you could say, ‘You’ve got mail, baby!’ But instead of the long-overdue account of the amazing adventures she’d been having, Angel had written just a few lines: Hi babe! Greetings from Berlin. I’m dying for a d-and-m too. But what do you mean you need a case-study call-out from me? Where’s my email dripping with filthy gossip about you and James? Miss and love you, bestie.

I had to laugh. Angel was so far off the grid she’d completely bypassed the email mix-up. There was no time to fill her in on the dramas with James, Alex, Edwina and Maxxy, so I snapped a selfie of me sticking my tongue out with the bustling event behind me and sent it to her with the message Miss you too. Talk soon xx.

‘That didn’t look very professional,’ a voice announced next to me.

I turned to see Kat dressed in a mint-green body-con dress, statement jewelled necklace and high heels.

‘Wow!’ I said. ‘Did you go shopping? If you’ve stolen Mum’s credit card —’

‘Calm down, worrywart!’ she said. ‘As a thank you for helping with the goodie bags, Liani took me into that amazing room filled with clothes and said I could pick anything to wear. Your boss is so nice.’

I rolled my eyes. ‘If this is you being grounded …’

‘I know, right?’ She grinned. ‘I’m going to Instagram the hell out of this party. Who do you know here anyway? I met two women called Allegra and Corrine — are they famous?’

‘You did? Yeah … yeah, they are. I know Stevie Q’s meant to be coming,’ I said. ‘And there’s a whole group of famous journos in the corner over there, chatting with that actress you love who —’

‘Oh my freaking god,’ Kat shrieked, then covered her mouth. ‘This is, like, the best night of my life. How are you playing it so cool?’

Me? Playing it cool? Puhlease. ‘Well, maybe I’m maturing and growing as a person and — crap, crap, crap on a hat! It’s her, Kat! She came, oh god, she came.’

I ducked behind my sister, who was scanning the room trying to work out who had frightened me.

‘Who? Is it someone famous? It’s not Billy’s girlfriend, is it, ’cos I bet she still hates you.’

No — worse. It was Edwina. She was standing at the bar by herself, sipping a cocktail, all soft, bouncing waves of hair, red-stained lips and attitude. Eyebrow raised, she surveyed the rainbow-coloured lollies and whimsical decorations on the candy bar. Judging by the way she was looking down her nose, she was here to watch us fail and take pleasure in every humiliating moment. Why was she even here? Had she arranged for a bucket of pig’s blood to be dropped on my head Carrie-style mid-panel? What about the Marilyn cover shoot with Maxxy?

‘Why are you hiding?’ Kat whispered. ‘You look weirder than usual, and that’s saying something.’

‘I’m fixing my dress,’ I lied. I glanced at my phone. There was only about seven minutes until the panel started. ‘Hang on … where’s the iPad? I’ve lost Liani’s iPad!’

‘Jose, it’s in your left hand,’ Kat said. ‘What’s this panel you guys keep talking about anyway? Is it like a fashion parade?’

‘No, it’s like … a panel,’ I said. ‘An exchange of ideas, a debate, a discussion.’

‘That sounds worse than school. The guests better drink up because it’s going to be seriously dull.’

‘You’re the expert,’ I said. I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself. I needed to get through this with no problems, no distractions, no mistakes — as if my career depended on it. Because, well, it did.

I saw Liani walking towards me through the crowd. Argh, it was nearly time. I willed my legs to walk towards her, then I heard someone call out my name. Filly, bald and beaming, was bearing down on me, a mini taco in one hand and a mini burger in the other.

‘Filly!’ I gasped. I hadn’t invited him, and part of me wondered whether he had accidentally wandered in off the street following the smell of delicious food.

‘Surprise!’ he boomed, swallowing the mini burger in one bite, then snatching a green cocktail from a passing platter. ‘Liani invited me along to see what you’ve been helping her pull together. It’s a marvellous event, simply marvellous.’ He took a gulp of his cocktail, which looked like a tiny toy in his swollen sausage-like hands. ‘By the way, I’ve been reading your columns. Good work, Browning. It’s been quite a ride teaching you.’

‘Thanks, Filly.’

‘But you’re officially starting second year now, so …’

‘So …? Oh. You won’t be my lecturer any more.’

‘No, I’ll have a whole new batch of little shi— er, students to teach,’ he said, chomping his mini taco. ‘I’ll still be course convener, though, so I’ll check in from time to time. Thanks for keeping it interesting between fishing trips.’ He winked.

‘You too, Filly,’ I said. ‘It’s been great.’

‘Who knows, at the rate you’re going, you may end up being my boss one day — and a fine one you’d make too. Best of luck tonight.’ He patted me on the shoulder and walked off, lunging at a nearby platter to collect three prawns, and chomping them down, tails and all, as though they were sultanas.

‘Ready?’ Liani said, appearing by my side. ‘Harrison’s all set up, so let’s make it a memorable panel for all the right reasons.’

‘I’ll come with you for moral support,’ said Kat, teetering after me, a soft drink in one hand and a cupcake in the other.

I truly hoped ‘moral support’ wasn’t her code for throwing rotten tomatoes at me while I spoke.

Waiting backstage wasn’t half as glamorous as I hoped it might be. Kat’s version of moral support was scoffing down cupcakes; Allegra was getting her make-up retouched; and Corrine was taking selfies. Liani was already doing her introduction on stage, which meant I had about three minutes, five at most, to gather my thoughts. You have your columns, you know your material, focus on translating it from the page to the audience, I told myself.

‘Jose,’ Kat whispered, her voice muffled with cupcake.

‘Shhh, I’m trying to concentrate.’

‘But there’s someone here to see you,’ she said, her voice quivering.

‘Who could be so important —’ I turned to see Maxxy standing there. ‘Kat, get a doctor. I think I’m having a stroke.’

‘Josie, we got your voicemail,’ Maxxy said. ‘Actually, we got all fifteen of your voicemails.’

‘I … you’re … um … you’re here,’ I squeaked. ‘I can’t believe it!’

Another miracle. Holy crap, maybe Santa was real.

A quick look on stage showed Liani had no idea what was unfolding behind her.

‘After the fifteenth voicemail, Darlene was worried I had a stalker, so she let me listen to a message to see if I knew the perp before she involved the police.’

‘She thought I was a stalker?’ That was a humiliating low, even for me.

‘A little.’ Maxxy laughed. ‘Okay, a lot. I think she was ready to double my security, but then I heard your voice. I showed her the bowling pic on Instagram, filled her in on our talk at Lavish, showed her the website — she finally caved and moved things around. She’d crammed in a last-minute photo shoot for Marilyn for some reason, but we worked around it. Darlene didn’t pass on your messages right away, so I’d figured you’d changed your mind and didn’t need me any more — it happens all the time.’

My stomach churned at the mention of Edwina’s magazine. ‘What happened with Marilyn? You still did the shoot?’

‘Yeah, we brought it forward to this afternoon. But between you and me, it was weird. I mean, it’s Marilyn, you know, so I thought we’d do something groundbreaking, but it all felt beige and rushed, like no one was prepared.’

Probably because they weren’t. Probably because Edwina had organised it as part of her revenge spiral. Rae would be fuming if the shoot turned out to be a dud.

‘How … how did you even get here?’ I asked. ‘People are going to lose their minds when they see you.’

‘Darlene had me brought in a back way to avoid any fuss. I hope your boss likes surprises.’

I took a deep breath. ‘I’ve imagined this moment so many times, but … now I’m kinda speechless.’

I wasn’t the only one. My celebrity-obsessed little sister was staring at Maxxy with her jaw ajar.

‘Say when you want me to perform!’ Maxxy said. ‘I’m ready whenever you need me.’

‘Ah, this is awkward, but we had to hire a band,’ I said. ‘They played earlier, we’re up to the panel now.’

She shrugged. ‘Is there anything else I can do?’

I’d let Liani down with the launch planning, but if I handled things in the right way now, I might have a chance to redeem myself. An idea clicked into place. An idea that would give Liani what she wanted: Maxxy up on the stage.

‘You’re pretty opinionated,’ I said. ‘How would you feel about answering questions on our panel?’

‘Sounds easy enough.’

‘Yeah …’ I thought back to my epic flop at the rehearsal. ‘Well, now you’re taking my place. Here are my columns. You can refer to them if you get stuck, but I’m sure —’

‘You’re meant to be doing it?’ Maxxy asked. ‘Let’s do it together.’

‘I can’t … I’m packing it,’ I admitted.

‘Fifty-seven.’

‘What?’

‘Fifty-seven — the number of media interviews I’ve done in the past month alone. Fifty-eight if you count tonight. And you know what? I still get nervous, but I get through it. And you can too.’

‘I feel sick,’ I said.

‘In my first-ever interview I got the name of my own song wrong!’ she said. ‘My advice? Imagine you’re telling one person your opinion, not a roomful. That way it’s as simple as having a conversation. It’s helped me. And if all else fails, picture them naked.’

I stared at her. ‘How are you only sixteen? You have more wisdom in your little finger than I do in all this hair …’

Maxxy cupped her hand over my ear and whispered, ‘I’m actually nineteen. Being sixteen is for my “brand” — but you better keep that quiet.’

‘For real?’ I laughed. Fake name, fake age, fake who-knew-what-else, yet somehow Maxxy was one of the most genuine people I’d met.

‘I’m serious. Now, I’ve put my trust in you. It’s time for you to put your trust in me.’

‘I can’t believe we’re doing this,’ I spluttered. I looked at Kat, who mouthed ‘Good luck’ before stuffing the rest of her cupcake into her mouth. ‘Walk out when I do,’ I said to Maxxy.

As we waited in the wings, I realised I’d got my miracle after all. Sure, it was delayed — it would have been much better for everyone’s stress levels and my future career at indi if it had arrived twenty-four hours earlier wrapped in a big red bow, but miracle-beggars can’t be choosers. Maxxy was here. My schmoozing assignment was complete.

Liani had wound up her introduction and moved on to presenting the panel members. First, she announced Allegra, who was greeted with an eruption of applause when she walked on stage. Next up was Corrine, who pumped her fists before taking her seat.

It was almost my turn. Almost our turn.

‘… And last but not least, making her debut appearance tonight is indi’s very own writer, commentator and youth representative, Josie Browning,’ Liani said. ‘Please make her feel welcome!’

Everyone politely clapped — to them, I was about as famous as a ham sandwich. But when I strutted out on stage with my arm linked through Maxxy’s, everyone gasped, including Liani, who dropped an expletive into the microphone.

‘It’s really her!’ I heard someone say.

‘Marry me, Maxxy!’ another voice screamed.

Cameras flashed and the crowd surged forward. I saw Harrison elbowing journalists out of the way — this was the exclusive of his career and he wasn’t letting anyone else nab the perfect shot or spoil his recording.

Liani was supposed to start off the panel discussion, but her mouth was opening and closing like a fish blowing bubbles. I decided her shock outweighed my nerves, so I walked over and took the microphone from her.

‘Hi everyone,’ I began, raising my voice to be heard over the crowd chanting Maxxy’s name. The microphone screeched and I pulled it away a little. ‘Like Liani said, I’m Josie from indi. We told you tonight’s launch would be something special, and we meant every word. Please let me introduce Maxxy, our super-secret panel member.’

I didn’t know whether it was hearing the blissed-out screaming of two hundred people, or seeing Liani with a grin on her face, but I didn’t feel as nervous any more.

‘I’m here to celebrate the launch of my favourite new website, indi,’ said Maxxy into the microphone. ‘Now … someone grab me a chair and let’s do this thing!’

The crowd cheered in approval and I wondered if Liani was as close to wetting her pants with excitement as I was.