Outside the hotel, a crowd gathered for Aliyah’s signing. Younger fans came with their families. Older kids, in groups with their friends. A few curious shoppers wandered over to see what all the fuss was about. People brought movie cases, pictures, magazines. One young girl carried a skateboard.
Security directed everybody to line up along the sidewalk. A plush velvet rope hung at the curb and ran for the length of the building. Fans packed in, stretching to the end.
Inside, Aliyah’s manager and best friend, Tiffany, waited by the bathrooms. She tapped her nails on the door to signal it was time to go. She’d just gotten a new set of acrylics and loved how they clacked. She continued working on her phone as she waited. Aliyah had a guest appearance on a radio show tomorrow morning. That meant an early bedtime tonight.
Aliyah and Tiffany had been friends since they were teens. They met on the set of a high school drama years ago. Aliyah played the new girl. Tiffany was the bully. They were enemies on screen and became friends off it. The show only lasted one season, but they never lost contact afterward.
Tiffany didn’t make it as an actor. She found more success on the runway. She stood at six-foot by sixteen and had a talent for walking in heels. She stocked her closets with high-waisted outfits to show off her stride. Although she hadn’t modeled for years, she still had the strut. The intensity never left her eyes, either. Her high cheekbones gave her a look fit for the catwalk. Makeup artists loved her. Hairstylists, too. Her hair was always done professionally. She usually sported a high ponytail that flowed down her back in a bundle of tight braids. It cost hundreds to style. She went every week.
Outside, the crowd grew louder. Security kept telling kids to get off the rope. The commotion filtered inside, echoing through the back lobby. The interior was all marble with vaulted ceilings and high archways. The sound carried. Fans swarmed the exit and tried to peek inside. They asked if anybody could see anything. Nobody could. The bathrooms sat just around the corner.
Aliyah opened the door before Tiffany knocked again. Side by side, their heights staggered. Even with her curly hair, she only came up to her manager’s shoulders.
“How’s it looking out there?” Aliyah asked.
“Good. Markus just walked the crowd. He says it’s tame. Nothing he can’t handle.”
“And the turnout?”
Tiffany hesitated. “Smaller, but no gaps. It should be easy to get everyone at least.”
The two started for the exit right away. Once Aliyah turned the corner, her fans erupted. The security guards braced themselves. One announced her arrival on their walkie-talkie. The excitement rippled down the line. People shouted her name and took pictures. They held magazines open to her article or removed the sleeves from movie cases.
“One more thing,” Tiffany yelled as they were leaving, “Markus is by himself right now. Jamal’s bringing the car around to make up some time. You said fifteen minutes. You’re getting fifteen minutes.”
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