#bc the monitor was acting up again and it is INCREDIBLY stressful for me to try to sleep knowing i may not hear her crying

[blueskiesagain]

Lmao this shit is fuckin wild honestly like can everything just PLEASE give me a goddamn break

[earthobservingsystem]

Sherlock Four

It’s a strange day at the office when one moment Paul Weller is sitting next to you, dressed as a Viking and the next you’re playing the violin in a mental asylum opposite Benedict Cumberbatch. Strange, but brilliant.

I had bumped into Mark Gatiss months earlier whilst walking the dogs, and he had gleefully forewarned me that season four, episode three would involve a LOT of violining. He wasn’t wrong. I mean he wouldn’t be - he should know.

A few weeks passed and a voice message came up on my phone. BC. Benedict. He had left a lovely message, asking after my wellbeing, my family and whether I’d be able to coach him in Ealing today. On the set of Doctor Strange. I like to think I played it cool, and I’m going to keep telling myself that. I was out with the dogs at the time. I should point out that I had been home in between these events, I don’t just wander the local parks, hoping for some work on Sherlock, (although that tactic has proved quite fruitful of late). Time was of the essence so I skipped home, swapped the dogs for my violin and headed to Ealing, in my muddy paw mark adorned jeans. Yeah. Super cool and not at all like a swamp creature.

Benedict needed to learn three pieces, one of which wasn’t yet written. He swished off set and called me into his dressing room to recap on all things violin. “Don’t touch the beard!” pleaded his makeup artist, “he’s back on set any minute”. His hands were covered in scars, which he insisted they sprayed with fixative away from me, what a gent. We just got started and he was called back on set. He offered me his dressing room while he was on set and to make myself at home. Tilda Swinton appeared In the doorway asking if I knew where Benedict was. This is always happening to me at home. Over the next few hours of grabbed moments, as well as in Cardiff on the set of Sherlock, and once at his house, we managed to work out 1) what he needed to play 2) that there was one hell of a lot to play and memorise whilst also delivering lines in some intensely emotionally charged scenes and 3)that he is a perfectionist and holds himself to the highest standards at all times.

But we knew #3 already.

Meanwhile David Arnold had met up with Ben Caron, the director to discuss the best way to approach the filming of this sequence. It would take some doing but it could be done.

I was coaching Benedict in his Sherlock trailer, with Ben Caron and David Arnold. We tried out timings to see how to fit the music with the dialogue to make sure we hit the right point in the music at the right time for the script.

For the first time on Sherlock there were to be two people playing the violin. Sherlock, and his sister, Eurus.

I was called by the lovely Siân Brooke, for some coaching at RADA. Benedict and Siân were both equally trepidatious of the huge task ahead of them, and concerned to find out how the other one was faring. Siân had played the cello on a film before, so had some experience of playing a stringed instrument.

Despite Benedict and Siân being exceptionally fast learners, coaching was hard at first because the final big duet hadn’t yet been written- this scene was scheduled to be filmed near the beginning of the whole shoot, so David Arnold and Michael Price, the composers on Sherlock had only just discovered they needed to write this epic duet at the same time as I was meant to be coaching. But there was a lot to be done anyway- recapping on stance and how to hold the bow, what angle to hold the arms and wrists etc. As with previous screen coaching, I’d say it’s 70% choreography, 30% actual playing and 10% bad maths.

Once the duet was written I picked some small ‘key’ passages of the music for them to learn. Learning the whole duet as well as the other two themes, ‘Irene’s theme’ and ‘Eurus’s Theme’ would be a huge ask, what with having to learn the violin from scratch and everything. I recorded video clips for both Siân and Benedict to help them practice in between lessons. Because they had LOADS of time to do that. (None).

The final scene of the series was to be a 360 shot of the two duetting together, tentatively at first, in a question and answer conversation of sorts, then beginning to build. It’s a beautiful piece of music, perfectly conveying all the shifting emotions of the series, gathering strength until the full orchestra joins for the rousing Sherlock Theme

Filming

The atmosphere around the sets was very warm and familial, people bringing in kids and swapping baby photos, handing around biscuits, that sort of thing.

But when I was taken onto the actual set for the first time, Eurus’s cell- I felt a cold shudder. That Arwel Wyn Jones certainly knows how to design a set. All cold, grey surfaces, no windows or door handles and 360 degree security cameras really created a chilling atmosphere. I was fitted with a radio in-ear monitor so that I could hear the cues from Ben, the director.

The first thing to to be filmed was Sherlock’s reaction to Eurus’s playing. Benedict asked that I play the theme there live in order to help him cry. Sweet revenge for last time when he made me cry: previously on A Scandal in Belgravia, his tearing up when playing Irene’s theme had made me tear up - which was good because the alternative would be bricking myself. I could get quite nervous in these situations - there are a LOT of people involved on set, and they all fall silent before the director calls “set, and… action” - but he is an utterly captivating actor, he draws you in so that everything else drops away. You forget yourself and all that’s left is the moment. Ben Caron helped create this warm atmosphere on set, by being incredibly calm and friendly whilst being clear about what he wanted. I was grateful given the pressure everyone was under that he wasn’t one for barking orders or steamrollering anyone. When I didn’t know what a particular visual cue was (I didn’t have a script- but there’s a scene in Eurus’s cell when Sherlock enters for the first time. She is playing a tune- Sherlock steps forward, the lights change, Eurus plays angrily, he steps back and she resumes playing the tune) Ben patiently and calmly explained those cues and we carried on- it felt like no biggy despite the massive time constraints he was under. It makes for a good working atmosphere and I’m sure it means that things get done more quickly and to a higher standard because people aren’t loaded with any unnecessary extra stress.

We all rushed off with an early end that day because Wales was playing Belgium in the quarter finals. We won 3-1 and there was rainbow over Cardiff (my second favourite type of bow.)

On the second day we were shooting close-ups for the big duet. Depending on the shot, Either Sherlock or Eurus would play the theme alone, following my movements. The final day of violining was the final duet scene again in 360, but this time they were filming full-length shots. The biggy. After all the planning and rehearsals and coaching and memorising and camera rehearsals this was it. I’d play in the eyeline of Sherlock and Eurus, because I had the track in my in-ear monitor, so they could keep in time with that. As the camera spun through its 360 movement I sometimes had to move to avoid being in shot. To their huge credit- and despite the considerable stress of the task, let alone of the scenes and plot line and all the acting- they were so patient and diligent and just totally on it. Of the violin scenes- this was the one everyone was most worried about. Once it was in the can, cheers and whoops were let out (but in a Welsh way, ŴP! ) Benedict and Siân had done an amazing job. The cast and crew then erupted into a big chorus of Happy Birthday for Ben Caron’s 40th. The relief. And the cake. He said that successfully completing that scene was the best birthday present he could have hoped for.

Recording the music

Once all the filming and editing is completed- the music is recorded. We knew we’d need someone other than me to record Eurus’s violin parts to the picture, as she had a Stradivarius and had taught Sherlock how to play, so their sounds would naturally be quite different from one another. I knew that my long time band-mate, Tania Davis would be perfect, so David Arnold asked her and she gladly accepted. Tania and I have been playing together for 17 years *cough* ( www.bondquartet.com ) and we have a natural rapport. She is a stunning player and has a beautiful violin too. Set up with two music stands and a screen in our own little space ship in Air Studios, we were set to record to the picture. We do this for a clean recording with no distracting, or unwanted background noises and because during the edit things can change synch and be slightly out of time with the picture. For example they might choose a shot because the actor’s performance is the perfect one- but the violin isn’t quite in time. Indeed, a childhood folk song was added after filming had ended, which we had to match to existing shots of a different theme being played. All fun and games!

We ended the afternoon on the first take of the duet, when Tania’s E string broke on the final chord - which spookily was the initial promo picture for this episode. It was obviously meant to be!

[artificialqueens]

Just The Game We're In- Chapter 5, Part I- Ortega

A/N: HELLO YOU BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE!!! Do you see how quickly I can work now that I don’t have uni???? (yes a month and a half is quick work in terms of this fic). I have been so excited to bring you this chapter for ages, but i’ve actually split it into two parts because even I draw the limit at submitting 17.000 words all at once, there is only so much mobile users can take. Anyway, this evening we head to Alyssa Edwards’ charity ball. Enjoy! I love you all so much! i have the best readers in the world bc you are always both patient and forever excited and i love you for that. shoutout to my AQ Brit cheerleader hoes ur literally the best

Plot Summary: Willam is a senior political advisor to the government’s minister for social affairs and citizenship, Sharon Needles. Throw in a crush on co-worker Courtney, Sharon acting weird around Willam’s colleague Alaska, an incompetent press department headed by Actual Living Zombie Jinkx Monsoon, and Willam’s job couldn’t get much more stressful. No wonder spin doctor Bianca Del Rio is permanently at the end of her tether…

Question: How do you draw attention from a terrifyingly massive fuck-up of an interview?

Answer: Find redemption.

Except nothing was happening in politics the week before Christmas Day, so there was no way to find this redemption. Willam had already bore witness to the verbal colonic Bianca had thrown Sharon’s way in the wake of the Five Live interview, slapping down the day’s newspapers on her desk which had both Sharon and Phi Phi’s faces on their front looking incredibly sheepish. So Sharon had stayed low for the past week or so, the girls in the office flinging all their efforts behind her refugee housing policy ready for its release by New Year, when Sharon, Alaska and Violet would make the trip over to Brussels. Jinkx had even been behind its horrifically cheesy slogan- Sharon is caring- which made no sense if it wasn’t read in an American accent, but was sadly still the best efforts of a collective group of 5.

Willam was glad, though. Work had been incredibly high-octane of late and it was nice for the department to go into Christmas without feeling as if Bianca was throwing them at a hundred miles per hour towards a wall made of nails, broken glass, and fire. She didn’t know it was possible for the comms team to be even more laid-back than they already were, but they were; Trixie and Katya both on Amazon for each other’s Christmas presents whilst the other wasn’t looking, Jinkx on the phone to someone enquiring about Christmas turkeys, and Violet and Adore not even remotely disguising the fact they were watching Love Actually instead of doing their job. Occasionally an email would be sent or a phone would be picked up, but overall it was all quiet on the Westminster front.

It was great to see Courtney relaxed and happy again too. Their friendship was now completely mended and back to normal after the wobble of before, Courtney now even seeming a little more warm and like her out-of-work self, although that was probably down to the fact it was so close to the holiday season. Every day she would come into work more excited for Christmas than the day before and her cheerfulness was beginning to rub off on Willam, despite the fact that she hated the 25th of December with a burning passion. The pressure to be happy, especially with family, on Christmas Day was frightening and Willam dreaded it more and more each year. But somehow Courtney made her feel a bit better about it all, her voice lilting through the office and making Michael Buble that bit more bearable.

Their work wasn’t completely over, however. There was still one tiny little hurdle the department had to jump before they could celebrate Christmas, and that was Alyssa Edwards’ charity ball at the Dorchester. Alyssa was a Baroness, extremely wealthy and a member of the House of Lords, and yet somehow she wasn’t a complete and utter arsehole. Alyssa was well-renowned for using her money for good, setting up two childrens’ charities and using her wealth and notoriety to encourage everyone who was anyone in politics to donate to them. This ball was no exception, and there would be a lot of big names attending. Willam couldn’t help but feel a little excited. Darienne had never been extended an invite before, and therefore neither had her advisors. But presumably Alyssa had seen something of worth in Sharon, and so this was the first year that Willam had been invited to attend too. Sure, the whole night would really be about politics but she would rather be business networking surrounded by champagne and canapes than the same old scenery of the office.

It was for that reason that Willam arrived to work on the Friday morning absolutely buzzing for the evening ahead. It had been ages since she’d had the chance to dress up and admittedly she was looking forward to a night of mingling and experiencing how the other half lived. Walking from the lift to the corridor and into Dosac’s offices, she felt there was a similar sort of buzz in the air. Even the comms team were chatting excitedly.

“Morning, slagbags,” Willam hollered into the office, met with a couple of yells back. As she flung her bag and coat down on her desk, Courtney shot across the office on her wheely chair, making a beeline for where Willam stood.

“Will, oh my God! I’m so excited for tonight, I’ve been looking forward to it since literally forever,” she babbled, speaking at about seventy miles an hour and causing Willam to simply blink at her with both amusement and affection. 

“Yeah, you sound it,” she joked, flinching as Courtney walloped her on the arm.

“Let me have my moment! It’s a Baroness Edwards ball, Willam. This is a big fucking deal!!”

“Baroness Edwards. Girl, it’s Alyssa,” Willam laughed at Courtney’s formality.

Courtney looked up at her with one eyebrow raised, a look of disbelief on her face that Willam noticed made her look cuter than ever. “I’m just being polite. Have you met the woman? Has she said it’s okay to call her by her first name?”

“No, but you’ve seen her interviews. The woman is batshit mental,” Willam shrugged. Courtney mirrored her body language, clearly concluding that Willam was right. Alyssa was a little bit kooky and not by any means a stereotypical baroness; always joking and laughing in the House of Lords, acting as if every interviewer was her best friend, screeching and squawking and generally acting like a big joker. Many of her colleagues hated her, but she was so well-loved by the public that there was never really anything they could say. In Willam’s view, Alyssa Edwards was the best argument against abolishing the House of Lords that they had.

Turning her attention away from Courtney, hard as it was, Willam addressed the comms team who were still chattering like an excited flock of birds.

“What’s got you guys so hyped, anyway? It’s not like Alyssa extended her invite to you guys.”

“Shut up, you elitist cunt,” Katya laughed, throwing a pen at Willam from halfway across the room.

“If you must know,” Trixie leaned over in her chair and batted her lashes. “Us and the comms team from the opposition are having our own little ball this evening.”

“Trixie, stop calling it a ball,” Adore laughed loudly at her friend. Turning to address Willam, she explained. “We’re getting dressed up, eating at Wahacca, drinking until we can’t see and then going out.”  

“Wow, guys. Dream big,” Willam said blankly, earning her a packet of staples, this time from Violet.

“It’s a ball because we’re ballers,” Trixie said proudly, leaning back in her chair and receiving a disgusted glare from her girlfriend.

“I’m breaking up with you,” Katya said in her own deadpan way.

Jinkx piped up from behind her own monitor. “I have to say, I’m slightly jealous. Your evening is going to be far more fun than mine.”

“Jinkx, you’re getting to attend an Alyssa Edwards ball. Shut up,” Adore rolled her eyes at the senior press officer, Jinkx’s job title bagging her an invite too.

“Yeah, I’ll take your invite,” Violet offered playfully.

“Rather you than Jinkx, to be honest,” Willam quipped, laughing with Violet as Jinkx shot her a glare.

“I’d throw my post-its at you but I’d like the comms team to at least have some items of stationary left by the time Sharon arrives.”

“Shit!” Courtney looked at the clock and shot up from her chair. It was too late, however, as just then Sharon came round the corner and into the offices with her two red briefcases in her hands and Alaska just at her back.

“Courtney, I really would love to be met at the doors tomorrow. I mean, I am a cabinet minister, not a fucking bag lady,” Sharon chastised her, Courtney pulling a face as Alaska sat down at her desk.

“Why couldn’t you do it?” Courtney hissed at her friend as she sat down. Alaska sighed and shook her head.

“I was late. I had my own bags,” she said not-quite-apologetically as she logged in to her computer. Courtney rolled her eyes as she dragged her chair back over to her own desk and sat down on it.

“You’ve been late more than you’ve been early recently. Lask, I love you, but as your friend and your workmate, get your head out your ass,” she continued, typing forcefully into her own keyboard.

Willam momentarily thought to herself that it wasn’t her own ass Alaska needed to remove her head from.

“I mean, what must Sharon think?” Courtney tutted, her face now nervous. Just then, Sharon’s voice could be heard calling the girls through to the meeting room.

“Well we’re about to find out,” Alaska drawled lazily, swinging her chair round and leading the way towards the room at the top of the department, Willam, Courtney and Jinkx following behind her.

As soon as Willam entered the meeting room, she could see Sharon sitting at the head of the table, a massive excited smile on her face.

“Oh, Jesus, not you too,” Jinkx sighed as she sat down. Sharon raised an eyebrow at her, her expression completely changing.

“What me too?”

“Everyone’s pissing their pants for this charity ball but nobody’s actually seeing it for what it is, which is a massive money-making scheme for Alyssa Edwards’ businesses,” Jinkx sighed, crossing her legs lazily. Alaska snorted.

“They’re not businesses, Jinkx, they’re charities! They help kids.”

“Well, all I’m saying is that if Sharon ends up drunk and paying ten thousand pounds for a Birken bag at the auction, don’t come crying to me.”

“There’s a charity auction?! Ooh!” Sharon gasped excitedly, her pitch rising about an octave. Rolling her eyes, Jinkx pointed her pen in Sharon’s direction.

“Case and point.”

“There’s also poker and roulette tables!” Courtney chimed in, her excitement now reaching boiling point. Jinkx and Willam shared an exasperated look.

“Anyway,” Willam cut in before any more of the meeting was spent on anything else off-topic. “Why are we here, exactly?”

“Right, well,” Sharon started, at once business-like again. “Bianca’s heading here in ten minutes for a meeting, and I’m assuming it’s to brief me about tonight. So I want to be one step ahead. Ladies, give me the info.”

“So the main thing is that even though this night may be guising as recreational, it’s not. It’s all business,” Jinkx began, as the other girls nodded.

“We’ll introduce you to some big names and try to get them onside. Kimora Blac is very up-and-coming, it would be good to get in with her,” Courtney mused, leaning on the table with her elbows.

“Isn’t she just a Buzzfeed journalist? Do we really need Sharon’s coverage to be a listicle entitled ‘TWENTY REASONS WHY SHARON NEEDLES IS #MOM #BAE #QUEEN’?” Willam cut in with a sneer. Courtney frowned at her.

“Hey, she might work for Buzzfeed but she seems very astute. Her articles are really interesting, and she’d be good with The Independent if she ever decided to apply there. Her tweets always blow up too, she might come across as an airhead but she’s actually very sharp. We’ll get you talking,” Courtney insisted to Sharon, Willam shrugging and trusting her faith in the young journalist. 

“Anyone else?” Sharon asked hopefully.

“We’ll get you talking to Michaels again, she seemed keen last time and it’s good to keep up appearances,” Alaska suggested, earning her a nod from both Courtney and Jinkx. “We’ll try and introduce you to Raja Gemini too before she inevitably interviews you. She has a tendency to go ham on ministers she doesn’t see eye to eye with, so it’d be good to make a first impression in a more chilled environment.”

“Christ, no pressure,” Sharon exhaled loudly.

“It is a charity ball. That being said, don’t spend mad amounts of money,” Jinkx advised. “Just stay away from any opportunity to spend. The fundraisers are for the rich kids and for the parties who can afford to be seen spending money. We’re the working people’s party, not the spending people’s party.”

“It’s for charity, for fuck’s sake. Would the media really object to me spending if it was in aid of poor little kids with cholera?” Sharon sighed, kicking her feet up onto the table in front of her.

“Trust me, Sharon, it’s maybe not the best idea,” Courtney reasoned.

“Oh, and don’t be seen with a drink in your hand. You take one glass of free champagne and that’s it,” Willam said, her mind suddenly filled with nightmarish images of Sharon vomiting on the red carpet for the world’s media to see. Sharon’s face instantly grew disappointed. Alaska and the other girls laughed.

“Come on, Willam. Everyone will be drinking!” she chuckled, leaning back in her chair. Willam gave her a side glare.

“Well, do what you like. I’m not sold on it, but we can’t control you,” she shrugged, throwing her hands up in defeat.

“So champagne all round then,” Sharon cheered, Courtney clapping excitably in response. No more could be said, however, as a harsh voice rang out through the department and the unmistakable sound of stilettos on a carpeted floor came closer and closer to the meeting room. 

“No, I don’t care that he’s saying no. Well just get it done, right? Or I’ll turn you into a human fucking plug socket. And I can do that, by the way, I took all three sciences to A level,” Bianca hurtled into her phone as she arrived before swiping swiftly across the screen, the conversation clearly over. Pocketing her phone, she then turned to address the room. “Okay, good morning ladies. I hope you’ve all had a good night’s rest because the information I am about to impart to you is probably the most important thing you will hear all day, and I need you to retain it.”

Sharon leaned back in her chair lazily. “Bianca, it’s fine. These guys have briefed me already. The ball will be fine. It’ll be just like playing Sims. Mash the Schmooze button with every fucker I see.”

Bianca’s face was immediately painted with a sneer. “This…this is not about Alyssa Edwards’ fucking ball! I don’t care what you do at that, as long as you’re not seen sniffing ket off of the foreign secretary’s balls.”

“Well there’s no danger of that.” Jinkx piped up, bristling a little.

“What is this about, then?” Willam asked, suddenly intrigued. Bianca’s face did look very foreboding, as if she was about to impart knowledge that would make the fabric of reality split in two. Bianca took a quick look out of the glass-fronted office to see if anyone was hovering nearby. They weren’t. Seemingly satisfied, she leaned on the table and lowered her voice.

“The Prime Minister has finally decided to do something about the refugee crisis.”

Sharon’s face lit up. “Oh, thank God! This is amazing, we’re fina-”

“Hold your horses,” Bianca shut Sharon down, lifting one hand up to pause her. “It’s not what you’d expect. He’s…well, within the next few years…wants to take immigration out of government hands.”

There was a silence in the room. Willam was completely confused. Courtney was the first to speak.

“What so like…military control?”

“Privatisation.”

The mood in the room shifted considerably. Willam and Sharon shared a glance. From what Willam could gather, Sharon seemed tense.

“This…” she began, then stopped. Her brow was furrowed, and she appeared to be deep in thought. “I don’t understand how this is going to work.”

Bianca leaned against the glass door. She seemed not 100% at ease with it all either, as if she was the bearer of bad news. “Well, it’s standard privatisation. The government offer a contract for border control. Companies make offers. Lowest offer wins. They control the borders and immigration is out of government hands.”

“This surely isn’t-”

“Yes, Alaska. This is the PM’s legacy. He’s-”

There was suddenly a knock on the half-open glass door. As Willam craned her neck she saw Adore hovering nervously. The room fell silent and she seemed to take that as a cue to take one tentative step inside.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she said quietly. Then, as her eyes rested on Jinkx, she seemed to relax a little. “Jinkx, we’re getting some calls about Alyssa’s ball tonight? There’s rumours that security are going to be keeping Sharon and Phi Phi away from each other?”

Jinkx gave a biblical roll of her eyes. “Who is it that’s phoning?”

Adore pulled a face. “The Sun, The Star. The Daily Mail potentially?”

“Tell them to stick a goose up their arse,” Jinkx snapped back. With a hasty nod of her head, Adore retreated. All focus was back to Bianca, whose face had suddenly taken on a suspicious glare.

“How long had she been there?”

“Oh, Bianca, for fuck’s sake. She’s just a civil service puppet, don’t worry about her. Who you should be worried about is me,” Sharon’s tone was suddenly dark as she looked Bianca dead in the eye. Willam was a little shocked, and judging by the panicked look she shared with Courtney, she wasn’t the only one. “Because I will be fighting this tooth and nail in parliament. This is not happening.”

“It’s sweet how you think this is up for debate. It isn’t. I came here to inform you of this because it will hit the press after New Year, and I want you aware of the line which is obviously that this is the greatest fucking idea since sliced bread. Except it’s better than that, because as good things go sliced bread is a bit fucking shit. Just say it’s the best thing since cocaine and strippers,” Bianca ended flippantly. Sharon narrowed her eyes.

“Bianca,” she began coldly, her voice shaking a little with anger. “I need you to understand that I am going to do everything in my power to ensure that this doesn’t go ahead.”

Bianca lowered her voice and drew her brows together, her face snarling in a scowl. “And I need you to understand that it is your job to ensure that it does go ahead. This is not up for debate, Sharon. ”

Seething, Sharon threw herself back in her chair, her head ricocheting off its headrest as if she was a crash test dummy. She folded her arms across her chest and her face looked deep in thought. Bianca ran a frustrated hand through her caramel curls and exhaled noisily, glad the conversation was over.

“Well. That’ll be that then. I’ll see you lot this evening, you’ll be able to find me at the bar drowning myself in amaretto and trying to pretend I’m interested in what Lord Huxby drones on at me.”

With a few muted goodbyes, Bianca was off again back through the department. As soon as she was out of earshot, Sharon instantly flew out of her seat.

 “What the fuck is the PM playing at?!” she yelled, pacing around the small space of office that wasn’t taken up by the huge table. “Privatisation? That’s meant to be Phi Phi’s fucking mantra, I mean what is this party turning into?!”

Nobody else in the room really knew what to say, least of all Willam. It did seem a strange move from the Prime Minister, and one that the public would surely pick up on. Sharon was still pacing, her entire aura one of rage.

“Minister, would you like me to prepare a statement to put out when the announcement of the legacy goes through?” Jinkx asked hesitantly, looking with anxiety at Alaska as she did so. Sharon stopped pacing, waving a hand at Jinkx dismissively.

“No, no thank you, Jinkx. I just need time to think, if everyone could maybe just give me some time on my own,” Sharon sighed, rubbing the back of her neck in agitation. “This is not happening. There is no way I’m letting the lives of immigrants get put in the hands of some company that’s just going to cut corners wherever it can. I just need to think of a way to oppose it without making too many waves.”

Willam let out an incredulous snort which turned all the heads in the room her way. She was a little taken aback, then explained. “Sorry, Sharon, I just don’t know how you’re going to fight the Prime Minister’s legacy without making too many waves.”

Sharon paused, then shrugged and gave a little half-smile. “Well maybe I’ll just have to capsize some motherfuckers.”

Giving her an amused smile, Willam got up and dutifully made to leave, Courtney and Jinkx following behind her. Willam didn’t miss the way Alaska hovered at the door as if to make sure Sharon didn’t want any company, but a reassuring glance from her girlfriend resulted in her leaving the room and shutting the glass door behind her. As they walked back to their desks, Courtney huffed a huge sigh.

“That was a lot,” she said, raising her eyebrows a little.

“Yeah. I’m concerned. I hope Sharon’s not going to do anything rash,” Alaska frowned, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. Willam gave her a sideways glance.

“Come on, girl. She’ll be fine, she knows what she’s doing.”

Alaska’s shoulders slumped a little. “I just wish I could talk to her.”

Willam tensed a little, wondering if Courtney would pick up on the implications of Alaska’s statement. She didn’t seem to.

“Well, let’s just hope she’s out of her huff before Alyssa’s tonight. I don’t suspect the Baroness will take kindly to Sharon if she’s in a massive mood. Ooh, speaking of Alyssa’s!” Courtney beamed suddenly, an idea only just seeming to come to her. “Why don’t you guys come round to mine before we head to the Dorchester? Then Sharon’s car won’t have to go to every flat before arriving. We can get some cava or prosecco and have a chill. It’ll be cute!”

Willam felt like she’d been shocked by a defibrillator.  Why was she suddenly nervous? It was just spending time with friends, she’d done it before, but never in Courtney’s flat. The suggestion of this new setting panicked Willam a little, made everything feel a little more intimate. It shouldn’t have scared her so much.

Swallowing her nerves, Willam forced a smile on her face which she hoped made her look carefree and not constipated. “Sounds good, yeah. I’m down.”

“Same! It’ll be fun,” Alaska beamed, managing to sound ten times more relaxed than Willam felt. Excitement painted on her face, Courtney turned to the comms team.

“Jinkx? Come to mine before Sharon picks us up? We’ll have bubbles!”

Jinkx leaned back in her chair and gave the three an amused smile. “It’s a lovely offer, Courtney, but I think I’ll just get ready with a cup of tea and Nina Simone and Sharon can pick me up before yours. I’m staying off the bubbles this evening, just in case I’m needed.”

“Yeah, who knows. There might be a political emergency where they need someone with an extensive knowledge of televised Poirot murder mysteries,” Willam smirked, leaning back on her desk. Jinkx simply gave her a roll of her eyes. Secretly, though, Willam was glad they’d have two guaranteed sober members of Dosac there this evening. She should probably make it three. Willam was suddenly jolted out of her thoughts as Courtney grabbed both her and Alaska in an animated hug.

“This is going to be such a good night!” she squealed, squeezing them both tightly before legging go. As she returned to her desk, Willam walked back to her own in a slight daze. It didn’t make any sense for her to be nervous. Taking a deep breath, she tried to convince herself that there was nothing to get worked up about; tonight would just be a nice night with friends, and there was no real scope for anything to go wrong.

Casting an eye back up to the meeting room and seeing Sharon still deep in thought only made her worry increase tenfold.

***

Willam stood in front of the full-length mirror that had been crammed into one corner of her studio flat. Sighing and sucking her stomach in, she scrutinised herself ruthlessly. Her hair was good, that was a given. She’d managed to tame it and barrel-curl it into huge waves, then pin it over one shoulder in a sort of Jessica Rabbit style. It wasn’t really her. But it still looked good.

Her makeup was adequate at least. Anything that had gone wrong had been concealed over; one corner of her eye where her eyeliner had decided to backstab her now sported about 15 layers of the damn thing. She cursed herself for how basic she’d gone as she stared down her burnt gold smoky eye and red lip. Casting an eye down the rest of her body, that was where the real insecurity began. She’d fallen in love with her dress when she bought it, but with every passing second the doubt in her mind grew. The bodycon mid-length, long-sleeved cream dress with little dimantes all over it now seemed a horrific choice, like some tacky girl’s prom dress and not a smart ballgown meant for an incredibly opulent evening. Willam grabbed her invite from her adjacent dressing table and read it over again. Was this dress black tie? What even was black tie?! She didn’t wear a fucking tie!

Sighing, she acknowledged there wasn’t much she could do to change it now. Still, the apprehension and panic was eating her up inside. She knew this was still basically work; a massive ass-kissing event to try and get Sharon networked, but Willam also knew this meant she would get to spend an extensive length of time around both Courtney and alcohol and she tried to avoid those situations as much as possible for fear of her stupid mouth opening and saying something she shouldn’t. Thinking back to her uni days, she gave a little shudder at the sheer extent of things she could blame on just that. For a moment, she felt her throat go completely dry as she thought about what Courtney might wear.

She’d not been this nervous in a long time, in fact probably not since she started the job at Dosac all those years ago. She absolutely hated the feeling of not being able to control her palpitating heart, or her shallow breathing, or her pulse that was now thudding underneath her skin at the speed of a freight train. Anger was fine; she could generally channel that into something productive, and Willam never allowed herself to get sad (or at least that’s what she’d tell everyone), but nerves were different. No amount of logical, motivational internal speeches to herself would help. Sighing an incredibly shaky sigh, Willam peered at her phone and checked the time. She’d left enough minutes to allow for traffic so that she would get to Courtney’s bang on time, but now she was overthinking that too. If she was too early, that would seem weirdly keen. If she was late, she would seem rude. If she was on time it would seem like she’d overthought the situation, which she definitely wasn’t doing at all. With a sort of gulp of an intake of breath, Willam began dialling a taxi company to book, managing to speak to the operator despite the fact she felt her vocal cords would crack with how dry her throat was. After she’d confirmed the taxi, she did a double-check of her clutch bag to make sure she had her survival kit for the night. Phone, cards, a few twenties and tens. Keys, caffeine tablets. A miniscule sample bottle of perfume and her lipstick, as well as tissues just in case. She cursed whoever invented clutch bags for making it acceptable to carry a fucking tiny rectangle around under your arm of an evening. Suddenly remembering her invite, Willam folded it in half and stuck it inside her clutch, which was slowly beginning to resemble Mary Poppins’ carpet bag.

As her phone began to ring signalling the arrival of her taxi outside, Willam hurriedly slipped on a pair of nude heels- which she’d later realise didn’t go with her dress- and took one last look around her room of a flat before leaving. It was a total mess of clothes, makeup and hair products, but future Willam could deal with it. Opening the door and then clicking it closed, she carefully made her way down her stairwell and into the black cab that was waiting for her.

Now that she was on the road and on the way to Courtney’s Brixton flat, Willam felt herself calming down just a little. At least she was now on the move, and it wasn’t as if it would simply be the both of them alone together; Alaska would be there too and Willam supposed it was quite impossible to be nervous around the most relaxed human alive. Willam shot a quick text off to Courtney just to let her know she was on the way, and then decided to let herself relax just a little. She couldn’t at all, but at least the effort had been made to try.

Soon enough the taxi pulled up outside Courtney’s unthreatening-looking apartment building. Willam crammed one of her notes through the little pane of Perspex glass that separated driver and passenger and stepped outside, clip-clopping up to the front door and pushing the buzzer for Courtney’s flat. She was met around five seconds later with a loud buzz as the front door was opened, allowing Willam to walk up one flight of stairs. She felt as if she was walking into either heaven or hell; the giddy excitement and the underlying feeling of dread she felt simultaneously made it hard to tell which. Reaching Courtney’s door, she almost felt like the breath was being knocked out of her lungs as it opened, only to find Alaska on the other side of it smiling widely and holding a champagne flute full of orange juice.

“Hiiieee, girl!” she squealed as she wrapped Willam in a welcoming hug, her signature greeting providing Willam with a sense of comfort in the chaos that was currently her mind. “Come in, Court’s not ready yet. Shock.”

Stumbling slightly as Alaska showed her to the living room, Willam quickly scanned her surroundings. Courtney’s flat seemed small but modern, although it had definitely had a couple of previous owners judging by general wear and tear- a scuff on a skirting board here, a chip out of the plaster in one wall there. Then again, Willam would be loath to judge her based on the state she left her own flat in. Alaska ushered Willam through to a bright, airy-looking living room, with two medium-sized leather sofas providing bookends for a coffee table with a few bottles of nail polish, some empty champagne flutes, an open bottle of prosecco, and a few crumpled pieces of cotton wool sitting on top of it. There was a wall-mounted TV sitting at one end of the sofas, and at the other end of the room there was a simple dining setup with a table and six mismatched chairs.

“You look beautiful, girl,” Alaska smiled at Willam, picking up an empty flute and filling it with prosecco.

“Thanks, so do you,” Willam simultaneously accepted and returned the compliment, still getting used to her new surroundings as she accepted the glass that Alaska shoved into her hand without even thinking. She hadn’t planned on drinking anything tonight, but she was beginning to feel as if she’d need just one glass. Realising how flippantly she’d given the compliment back, she examined Alaska’s outfit more closely. She’d gone for a floor-length dress, a simple strapless royal blue number with a fishtail lower half. Her hair was pinned up, but not in its usual bird’s nest; instead it was arranged in an elaborate set of plaits and twists that made for an intricate bun. Her make-up had clearly been well thought-out, and was immaculate as a result.

“So how much of tonight is really going to be about work?” Alaska asked dryly, raising one perfect eyebrow. Willam let out a laugh.

“A solid 100%,” she instantly replied, pausing as she took a sip from her glass. The prosecco was good. “All it’s going to be is us introducing Sharon to various wankers from the media and hoping she goes down well.”

“Well there’s no question around that, of course she will,” Alaska shrugged, leaning back on the couch. Willam felt her top lip curl in disagreement.

“Alaska you’re biased as fuck,” she said simply, Alaska rolling her eyes as she was met with words she clearly didn’t want to hear.

“Yeah, but come on Will. Even you have to admit she’s likeable, and I know you don’t even like many people.”

Willam simply shrugged and took a sip of her prosecco. It was working wonders to loosen her up, although she was still acutely aware of the fact that Courtney hadn’t emerged from her room yet. Alaska seemed to think the same thing in the silence.

“COURT! Hurry the fuck up, Willam’s about to drink all your alcohol,” she yelled through the walls, Courtney giving a muffled reply that Willam couldn’t really make out. Alaska shook her head and laughed long-sufferingly, then seemed to pick up on Willam’s anxiety.

“She looks beautiful, by the way,” Alaska mentioned nonchalantly, avoiding Willam’s death glare by staring into her glass of orange juice.

“Don’t you dare,” Willam pointed one fake-nailed talon towards her friend as a simple warning.

“I’m not doing anything! I’m just saying,” Alaska smiled smugly, tipping a little more of her orange juice into her mouth. Swallowing, she continued. “Do you think you’ll say anything to her tonight?”

“No, and I won’t be saying anything to her for a considerable amount of time. This conversation is ending now,” Willam barked a reply, Alaska’s questioning only putting her further on edge. She didn’t mean to upset her friend and snap, but she was already so anxious and nervous that talking about the situation would surely make it worse. Alaska seemed to take Willam’s nerves on the chin though, simply raising her eyebrows in amusement. Relaxing her face, she then took out her phone, glancing at it for a few seconds. Willam watched as her face grew disappointed.

“You alright, girl?” she asked, concerned about her friend who now seemed to be attempting to conceal her feelings.

“Oh, yeah. Sure! I just…Sharon. Just sent me a photo. And she looks so amazing, and I’m so proud to call her my girlfriend, you know?” Alaska sighed, Willam feeling the weight of her heavy heart hanging in the atmosphere.

“Well that’s good, right? Nothing about what you said is something to be sad about, unless I’ve taken a bump to the fucking skull and woken up in a world where happy is now sad, and sad is now happy, and Lorraine Kelly is the president of Iran, and cous-cous has been privatised,” Willam joked, trying to lighten the mood. It earned her one very weak smile from Alaska.  

“No, I’m happy! Of course I’m happy. It’s just…well, I wish I could show her off to everyone tonight and be public and proud of her and disgustingly PDA,” she shrugged, her shoulders radiating disappointment. Willam was confused.

“Girl, not that it’s any of my business but when are you gonna go public? You and Sharon can’t stay under wraps forever, she’s a politician. The media are on her like a hawk 24/7.”

Alaska rolled her eyes. “I know that, Will, of course I know that. It’s not without want of trying. I mean, our whole first date we couldn’t do anything like what couples would normally do in case there were paps somehow nearby. She was so paranoid. She still is.”

Remembering her political stance, Willam pulled a face. “To be fair, I guess she’s trying to keep the professional balance. You have to remember she’s still your boss, girl.”

Sighing, Alaska nodded and picked at a piece of her nail polish that had already developed a chip. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. And I mean I’ll always support Sharon’s career, she’s good at what she does, and that’s not me being biased. I knew what I was getting myself into when I fell for her, I’ve only got myself to blame. I just…sometimes wish we were a normal couple, you know?”

Willam gave a nod of support, and the two sat in companionable silence for a while. Willam was worried for Alaska. She was such a sweet friend, and Willam had never seen her with someone before. She was so conflicted, the professional and personal sides of her brain sitting like a small devil and a small angel on her shoulders. On the one hand, it would be hell for the party if it got out that Sharon was seeing one of her advisors, but on the other all Willam really wanted was for Alaska to be happy, which was clearly what she was. Willam couldn’t help but wonder, though, how long such a relationship could go on for. From her calculations Sharon and Alaska had been together for a month now, a month of sneaking around together and doing everything secretively and privately. It was a little what Willam imagined cheating to feel like, except she couldn’t quite work out who the two women were actually cheating on. It had only been just over two weeks when Willam had found out about them and even that was completely by accident. If the media even got a whiff of an inter-party relationship and made the effort to investigate it, who knew how long it would take before they could raise hell with the information. It made Willam shudder a little.

“You are being careful though, right girl? You and Sharon,” she said quietly, breaking the silence. Alaska snorted playfully.

“Yeah. She uses condoms and I’m on the pill and neither one of us is pregnant.”

Willam couldn’t help but splutter a laugh mid-way through a sip of prosecco. “Bitch, shut up! You know what I mean. I’m only looking out for you. I don’t want the media treating you guys as their chew toy.”

Clearly not in the mood to be serious, Alaska rested her head in her hands and looked affectionately at Willam. “Aww, is Willam Belli actually being…nice? Showing concern? This is impossible. Next minute she’ll be surrounded by bluebirds and shedding tears.”

“You know I had my tear ducts cauterised shut at the age of 12,” Willam joked back, leaning back in her chair and finally relaxing, trusting Alaska’s judgement. She felt her heart give a little judder, however, as she heard a pair of heels approaching from the corridor behind her and saw Alaska’s eyes dart to just behind Willam’s shoulder.

“Well this was a weird point to enter the conversation,” Courtney’s voice suddenly filled the living room, and Willam had to steel herself before she turned round and saw her.

Courtney looked so stunning that Willam momentarily lost her breath. She was wearing black, a colour that she never really wore regularly but which suited her immensely. Her dress was floor-length with a little black lace train at its back, and the bodice was slightly corseted which served to pull her in at the waist. There were little patterned black flowers adding texture here and there, and her shoes could barely be seen under the sheer length of the gown. Her makeup was dark and smoky, a style which Willam was sure Courtney had never worn before but she looked beautiful for it. Her hair cascaded in curls that framed either sides of her face. Willam very suddenly became acutely aware of two things: one, that she now felt like a tramp compared to her two friends and two, that she was now more nervous than she’d ever been in her life.

Courtney seemed to pick up on Willam’s awed stare, as her expression became a little apprehensive. “Fuck. It’s too much, isn’t it? I knew I’d be overdressed, I fucking told Trixie I’d be overdressed, but she made me buy it and ugh, I need to go and change because everyone’s going to be staring at me and-”

“Court,” Willam found herself yelling slightly at her worried friend, if she could even call what she felt for Courtney friendship any more. Courtney stopped talking abruptly, looking at Willam with a little shock in her eyes. Willam tried to summon moisture from somewhere to save her mouth, which now was so dry that it could’ve rivalled Ghandi’s flip flop. “Don’t change. You look really good.”

Willam felt like kicking herself for how feeble the compliment seemed. She’d wanted to say beautiful, or stunning, or incredible, but everything seemed too strong and Courtney would have suspected something. She needn’t have worried, though, as Courtney’s face instantly lit up, pleased that she had the approval of her friend.

“You look amazing, girl,” Alaska chimed in, handing Courtney a glass of prosecco that Willam was unsure when she’d poured. “Come sit, Sharon’s car isn’t meant to pick us up for another half hour at least.”

Obliging, Courtney opted to sit beside Willam on the couch facing Alaska. Willam noticed that Courtney must have been wearing new perfume, one that smelt of vanilla and jasmine and made Willam’s heart hurt at how much she wanted to just blurt out something she shouldn’t.

Draining her glass and reaching for the prosecco bottle, Willam looked up at the wall-mounted clock. Half an hour until they were picked up by Sharon.  She could get through this.

***

Willam was happy. Really quite pleasantly happy in fact, as if there was a warm blanket that had been draped over her after her third glass of prosecco. She should probably stop drinking soon. She’d have to have some champagne when she got to the ball, otherwise it would look odd. But when Courtney had unearthed two more bottles of fizz from her fridge, it became increasingly hard to say no.

She was a lot less nervous as well, although she wasn’t sure how much of that was thanks to the prosecco. Willam wasn’t sure why she’d been nervous about coming round to Courtney’s flat. Courtney was so lovely and relaxed, and definitely generous with the top-ups. Every so often Alaska would make a joke, or do an impression of Bianca or Jinkx, and Courtney would laugh so hard she would flail her arms and her hands would come to rest on Willam’s arm, or her thigh, or her hand. She supposed any other time it would have made her even more nervous, but now she simply reciprocated, mirroring Courtney’s hands and making them look a little like Siamese twins. Every time Courtney shot a smile Willam’s way, she felt her heart melt a little bit more, but the feeling wasn’t like how she felt every day at work. The prosecco gave her a little buzz and made her a little more hopeful that Courtney reciprocated her feelings, and only reinforced the sense that this night had something magical about it. Every so often Willam felt that the energy between her and Courtney was electric, especially when Alaska left the room to pee at one point and left the two girls alone together. They were both so giggly and touchy and flirty, although Willam wasn’t sure how much of that was in her own head, and she’d often been very close to closing the ever-decreasing gap between them and kissing Courtney like she’d wanted to all this time.

It was a good thing, then, that Sharon’s car arrived when it did. Around ten minutes late, Courtney heard the sound of the car horn from her window long before she heard her flat intercom buzzer, and started hurrying Willam and Alaska out, Willam sort of blindly grabbing her clutch bag and her coat and hoping she had everything she needed.

She had Courtney, though, and she supposed she’d be alright with just her.

Rushing out of Courtney’s stairwell and clip-clopping into the taxi, Willam was met by Sharon and Jinkx already inside. She couldn’t really see what either of them were wearing, but from what she could see they both looked good; Jinkx scrubbing up well in an off-shoulder black and white striped dress and Sharon in what seemed to be a black sequin dress which complimented her figure. As she raised her arm up to wave, Willam could see it was long-sleeved. Sitting in the far right hand seat, Willam watched as Alaska’s eyes widened when she saw her girlfriend, Sharon smiling shyly at her as Alaska clambered into the car.

“You look…amazing,” Alaska said, her voice full of awe as she took her seat beside Willam. Sharon looked to the ground momentarily, clearly flattered by her girlfriend’s reaction.

“So do you. Absolutely beautiful,” she replied. Willam could see that the both of them were desperate to hold each other’s hands or do something that any other couple would do upon seeing the person they loved looking their absolute best. It was the sort of thing Willam had been contemplating earlier and now she was seeing it played out in front of her, a sad sort of tragedy to the whole scene. Sharon seemed to snap out of whatever spell she had been under and instead turned to compliment Courtney who was climbing into the back seat. Willam didn’t miss the way Alaska looked to the floor, her eyes a little disappointed. Nudging her, Willam gave her a sympathetic smile. Alaska smiled back gratefully.

“Jinkx! You look incredible!” Courtney exclaimed, each syllable more drawn-out than the last as she reached over and planted both her hands on Jinkx’s knees. Raising one eyebrow, the senior press officer gave Courtney a suspicious look.

“You look drunk,” she replied dryly. With that, the other three girls in the car burst out laughing, the amount of prosecco Willam had drunk making everything seem that little bit funnier. Jinkx didn’t seem impressed. “Ladies, please! Pull yourselves together, what is Baroness Edwards going to think?”

“She’s going to think we’re total legends,” Sharon smiled smugly, Willam only just noticing the slight smell of white wine from her indicating she’d done a bit of pre-drinking of her own. A sudden sense of dread began to form in the pit of Willam’s stomach, making her feel as if perhaps she shouldn’t have drunk all that prosecco after all. On the plus side, Sharon seemed a lot more relaxed and carefree that she’d been earlier at work, so if anything at least she would be a happy drunk.

“Sharon, ask your driver if we can put some Cascada on!” Courtney practically yelled. As Sharon turned to face the driver’s seat, Alaska put a hand out to stop her.

“We’re not turning up to the red carpet with Cascada blaring out the car,” she admonished her, Willam glad that Alaska was another representative for sobriety. As Sharon and Courtney both pouted, Willam found herself wondering how long the car journey had to go. Roughly twenty more minutes of Courtney and Sharon begging for some “sick bangers”, Alaska and Willam almost wetting themselves with laughter, and Jinkx attempting to be the voice of reason was followed by the car coming to a complete stop with the driver getting out of the front seat and opening the side door, exposing the five of them to one long strip of red, the Dorchester’s glamorous entranceway, and a border of bright flashing bulbs. Willam felt her throat close up slightly. The nerves were back in full force as she realised the sheer scale of what they were about to enter into. Sharon got out of the car confidently, followed by Alaska and then Jinkx. Only Willam and Courtney remained in the car. Glancing at Courtney, she looked as nervous as Willam felt.

“Hey,” Willam caught her attention, Courtney’s doe eyes wide in fear. “We’ll be fine. This evening will be fine.”

She couldn’t help that she instantly wanted to reassure and protect Courtney. It seemed to kick in in situations like these, almost instinctive. As Courtney smiled at her, Willam felt her heart almost explode as Courtney suddenly reached for Willam’s hand and took it in her own.

“You know, Will, I never told you how amazing you look tonight,” Courtney said, her words slurring only a little bit. As she gave Willam’s hand one final squeeze, let it go and began to leave the car, Willam felt as if her palms had never been sweatier. In her alcohol-soaked mind, she had no idea whether or not Courtney’s compliment was sincere or just as a result of all the alcohol she’d drank herself. With her heart beating so fast she felt she would faint, Willam clambered out of the car in a daze.

Walking a red carpet was something Willam had never done before and something she never really wanted to do again. It was a weird experience, with too many bright lights and people shouting and fake smiles and awkward poses. Sharon, however, seemed in her element, stopping every so often to have her photo taken and each time making Willam pray she was sober enough to decide against pulling out a peace sign or a dab or something akin to the two. By a miracle, the five managed to make it inside the Dorchester without any PR disasters.

Immediately, the elegance of the entire place was apparent. The marble floor glistened as if it was glass, and identical marble pillars stood at either side of the doorway welcoming them. The wallpaper was cream and completely pristine without a single scuff or scratch on it. Willam scarcely had time to take in the rest of her surroundings as a large doorman prompted them for their invitations. Willam dug inside her clutch bag and handed it over, a little embarrassed by how crumpled it had become. Having established that none of them seemed to be gatecrashers, the doorman gave them a friendly smile and unlocked the small red velvet rope that separated the entrance from the grand ballroom.  

Here, Willam felt even more overwhelmed, and by the reactions of the others she wasn’t alone. The ballroom looked exactly like something from a Disney film; the marble continued from the hallway, leading down an ornate staircase and onto an ornately patterned floor where hundreds of glamorous media presences stood and chatted to one another. The walls were just as lavish, the champagne-coloured wallpaper interrupted every so often by a vase full of white lilies on a marble plinth, or a stone mantelpiece, or a section of wall covered entirely by mirrors. There was another room just jutting off to the left hand side, which Willam could see held a bar and the promised roulette tables. A small orchestra sat on the opposite side of the room, playing something classical that Willam couldn’t even begin to recognise. As she stood and drank in her surroundings, she turned to face the others. Alaska looked very similar to when she first saw Sharon. Jinkx was practically slack-jawed. The fear was very much back in Courtney’s eyes and Sharon was frozen still.

“Maybe there’s a mistake. Maybe we shouldn’t be here,” Sharon muttered, clearly overwhelmed by her surroundings. Alaska immediately protested.

“No! No mistake. You deserve to be here, Sharon, you’ve made a good impression and tonight is about that! Look at you,” she finished quietly, gesturing to Sharon’s dress. “You have every right to be here.”

Taking a deep breath, Sharon seemed to swallow her anxiety and nodded, taking Alaska’s hand and giving it a quick squeeze.

“So. What now?” Jinkx asked, shuffling a little on the spot. No sooner had she asked that question was Willam immediately alerted to a cry that appeared to come from the middle of the ballroom.

“There she is!” came the unmistakable voice of Baroness Edwards, who seemed to half-elbow her way through the crowd and up the stairs to where Sharon stood. Willam was a little taken aback- Alyssa was a huge presence, her smile so hugely bright and giving the impression that Sharon was an old friend and not just someone she’d never met before in her life. Her gown was equally as loud as she was; bright yellow and patterned with glittering jewels. Her light brown hair was swept up into an elaborate bun, making absolutely nothing about her outfit understated at all. She was intimidating, but not necessarily in a bad way.

“Baroness, it’s such a pleasure,” Sharon replied humbly, Willam glad that her surroundings seemed to sober her up a little. “Thank you so much for inviting us here this evening. Everything looks beautiful!”

Alyssa howled in protestation, smacking Sharon on the arm and causing her to flinch. “Don’t you give me all that Baroness nonsense! It’s Alyssa to you, darling.”

Tuning out of Alyssa’s ramblings, Willam looked over to Courtney and gave her a smug smile, reminded of their earlier conversation. Courtney stuck her tongue out in retaliation, the two both giggling like children.

“I just had to have you here after the big splash you’ve made ever since you came on the scene, Miss Shamu! Oh no, that makes it sound like I’m calling you fat,” Alyssa reeled back in horror, then howled with laughter. “But you know what I mean, Miss Thing! You’ve been causing a commotion, like Madonna. There we are, see, Madonna’s a better comparison.”

Willam was nothing short of amazed that Sharon was managing to follow the conversation without being slightly horrified.

“Well, you and I both know how frantic politics can get, Miss Edwards,” she shrugged, keeping her tone formal. “And sometimes it’s necessary to rock the boat a little.”

“Yes, ma’am! Guys and Dolls style,” Alyssa vehemently agreed, nodding so hard that Willam thought her bun would come apart. “Well, keep up the good work, Miss Needles. The world needs more politicians like you, that’s for certain. Now, you enjoy this evening, won’t you? That’s one thing I want the most from everyone here. That and their money!”

With that, Alyssa gave another yelp of laughter, gripping Sharon’s arm for dear life as she got her breath back.

“It’ll be a lovely night, Miss Edwards, and thank you once again for the invite,” Sharon smiled at her. With an affectionate smile back and a quick hug, Alyssa was gone, now shouting down the corridor as she spied another new arrival. As she watched the Baroness retreating, Sharon turned to the others and gave them all a look of sheer disbelief.

“I feel like I just met the human incarnation of caffeine,” she said blankly, still slightly dazed. Just then, a smartly-dressed waiter with a silver drinks tray approached the group. Sharon gratefully took a tall glass of champagne, Courtney following after. Willam decided to decline.

“You did very well, Sharon. I think you made a very good first impression,” Jinkx praised her, Courtney and Alaska nodding proudly.      

“Just do that with everyone you meet tonight and we might have world domination on our hands,” Willam smiled, admittedly proud of the minister. Sharon had done well. Maybe she didn’t need to be so worried. Suddenly, Willam became aware of a presence behind her.

“Oh, well, let’s not get carried away,” a voice laughed rather affectedly. Whipping around, Willam was faced with Phi Phi O’Hara and the Satanic Tweedledee and Tweedledum themselves, Roxxxy and Detox. Their dresses were all equally brash, a mismatched colour chart of hot pink, cream and some pattern made up of lime green and blue. A suited man hung on Detox’s arm, which Willam had an infinite number of questions about. None of them could be answered, however, as Sharon was already giving Phi Phi a faux-pleasant smile.

“Phi Phi, what a tremendous, massive, overwhelming pleasure this is,” she smiled sarcastically, punctuating the end of her sentence with a sip of champagne. Phi Phi simply laughed a little in response.

“I trust you’re enjoying the evening so far? It must be really intimidating, you know, coming and seeing the elite of society all mingling together in one of the most elegant settings available. I’d feel quite out of my depth if I were you,” Phi Phi shrugged, Roxxxy smirking behind her. “The ballroom is quite overwhelming for anyone who hasn’t visited before. I’m not so unfortunate, I mean I actually had my 21st birthday party here. And my 16th.”

“Was this before or after your Dad kicked a homeless man in the face?” Willam found herself saying, shocking herself slightly but only blinded by the anger she felt coursing through her veins. Or maybe it was the alcohol. Willam heard a splutter of laughter from behind her, but she couldn’t tell who it had come from. Phi Phi looked as if she’d been slapped. Detox spoke up from behind her.

“You know there’s a lot of journalists here this evening, Willam. You should watch what you say.”

“Oh, hey Detox. Nice date, where’d you get him? The fuckin’ pound store?” Willam continued, the words tumbling from her mouth like vomit. Someone behind her was now fully cracking up, and from the laugh she recognised it as Alaska. All four guests in front of Willam were now looking suitably shut down, looking as if they wished to be anywhere than in front of their opposition. Phi Phi gave a little sniff of derision.

“Yes. Well. Enjoy your evening. I hope you don’t make any horrific social faux pas, Sharon. Would be a shame to see your face on the front pages tomorrow, especially when I’m announcing my new policy.”

“Turn your policy on its ass and spin on it,” Willam snapped, heartily sick of the sight of the people in front of her. With a raise of her eyebrows, Phi Phi led her small clique away down the stairs. Still full of rage, Willam breathed a huge sigh and turned around to face her friends. Courtney, Alaska and Sharon were beaming at her. Jinkx looked vaguely ill.

“Willam, don’t ever-”

“Oh, Jinkx, shut up! That was fucking amazing. I want that on tape,” Alaska cried excitedly, happy that the opposition had been put in their place.

“Did she say she was announcing tomorrow? Why haven’t I heard about this?” Jinkx questioned, her tone full of concern. Courtney gave her a smile of reassurance.

“Don’t worry, Jinkx. She was probably just bluffing, the big sack of wind that she is.”

“She’s a big sack of a lot of things,” Willam practically hissed, still absolutely livid. She calmed a little as Courtney stroked her arm in an attempt to calm her down.

“Shh. You’ve shut her up now, Miss Hero of the Night,” Courtney giggled, her voice having the same effect on Willam’s rage as water on fire. “Should we go find Bianca? I kind of want to see what she looks like in a ballgown. Morbid fascination, you know?”

As Willam nodded and made to move away, she was interrupted by a smart waitress with another drinks tray full of long flutes of champagne. Shrugging, Willam reached out and took one from the shining silver platter, thanking the girl as she left. Taking a sip, the cold, slightly metallic taste soothed her anger a little more.

What harm would another drink do, after all?