I looked at myself in the mirror. She… wasn’t wrong.
My hair was pinned up and covered by a top hat. They’d given me sideburns – blonde ones, so you couldn’t really see them that well – but darkened my eyebrows and given me the dark pencil moustache, adding some definition to my face. I didn’t know where they’d found an old-timey three-piece suit in size pixie, but it fit me perfectly, the waistcoat cut close to my body, a silk cravat tucked into it.
‘I understand why my baby sister gave in to your charms, Mr Wickham,’ Dylan said, brushing aside one of the curls they’d carefully draped over her forehead. ‘I’m only amazed I managed to resist you.’
Parisa stormed into the make-up tent behind us. ‘I can’t believe they made me do that,’ she fumed, yanking off her leopard print jacket and throwing it on the ground. ‘I’m a scientist. I’m a marathon runner. I’m a mother. I’m a goddamnperson– and all they want to reduce me to is myage?’
‘Dylan G, Amanda, you’re up!’ a PA called from the front of the tent.
I looked at myself in the mirror again, in my old-timey drag king get-up, and a nasty suspicion began to grow in my mind.
They’d set up our shoot to look like one of those quaint tea shops where they serve you scones on plates covered indoilies. There was a little round table, covered in a long lacy tablecloth. There were two chairs next to it, the kind that probably had some proper furniture name but which I could only describe as ‘old-fashioned’. There was a fancy teapot and two delicate china teacups on the table. Next to them was a three-layer cake tray, filled with eclairs and petit fours.
‘Do we get to eat the desserts?’ Dylan asked.
‘Not while you’re in costume!’ one of the wardrobe people said, horrified. ‘We don’t have a backup. If you get anything on that dress before the shoot, Murray will murder you, me, and everyone here.’
We had to wait for Romeo-Dylan, who was still getting changed after his last shoot. ‘Do you think Lily was Julia Roberts or Cameron Diaz?’ Dylan said.
‘Hmmm?’ I said, tugging at my waistcoat.
‘Do you think Lily was Julia Roberts or Cameron Diaz?’ Dylan repeated. ‘In theirMy Best Friend’s Weddingshoot?’
‘Oh. Julia Roberts, surely.’
‘See, I thought that too,’ Dylan said, ‘but then I also don’t see her letting someone else wear a wedding dress.’
‘Good point.’
‘You okay, Mandie?’
I think they’ve put me in this outfit because they’re going to out me,I wanted to say.They’re going to make the fact that I’m bi my whole storyline, the way they’re making Parisa’s age her storyline.
But there were cameras everywhere, and on the off chance the showwasn’tabout to out me, I wasn’t going to do it myself. ‘Yeah, fine,’ I said. ‘Just nervous. I haven’t read thebook. I don’t know what I’m doing. I feel like I’ve turned up to class but I haven’t done the homework.’
‘You’ll be fine,’ Dylan said. ‘Big fuckboi energy. That’s all you need to know.’
I took a breath and let it out slowly. ‘Big fuckboi energy. Right.’
‘Here’s an idea,’ she said. ‘Just channel your ex. That ought to do it.’
‘Jac wasn’t – Jac isn’t—’
Cameras. Everywhere.
‘– a fuckboi,’ I finished weakly.
‘Hi ladies!’ Romeo-Dylan said brightly, breezing into the room. ‘Let’s get this show on the—oh, Amanda, look at you!’
He put his hands on his knees and doubled over, wheezing with laughter. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘When I suggestedPride and Prejudicefor this shoot, I thought they’d make you Miss Bingley.’
‘Who’s Miss Bingley?’ I asked.
‘Another villain,’ my Dylan said. ‘She’s rich and mean and chasing after Darcy and constantly sabotaging people. You would have been all wrong as her. You’re clearly a Jane.’
‘Oh, good call, Dyl!’ Romeo-Dylan said. ‘You’re absolutely a Jane, Amanda.’
‘And Jane is…?’ I asked.
