Chapter 9

FredsAngel

Disclaimer: Joan and Melissa Rivers and any other celebrities (and I use that word loosely in terms of the aforementioned) own themselves. I don't own Club Edelweiss, either.

A/N: I'm sorry this chapter is so short, but based on all the reviews, I doubt you could care less about this chappy anyway. So to Ashliegh, tedabug, & Faye: the reunion is coming. I just have to get the movie premiere out of the way first. And, sadly, if you got the four members of Tumultuous in a club together, the first paragraph is exactly what would happen.

A/N 2: If the time jump bothers you, sorry. I didn't think you wanted to read all the annoying details about the girls' trip to the spa; just the results. And even then, this chapter is still kind of boring.

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Angelina's POV

The phone by my bed rings and I reach over to pick it up. Unfortunately, the arms of a still sleeping Alex are holding me back so I have fight to disentangle myself from his limbs. I look over at him with a sad smile on my face. He still hasn't woken up. He sleeps like a rock, just like Fred. But then we went at it for quite some time last night after we left Club Edelweiss. Between dancing, drinking, and shagging, I'm incredibly knackered with the worst hangover known to man (a shame seeing as I used to hold my liquor well). I'm never EVER going out partying with the members of Tumultuous again. (When the rags say that they're wild, they mean it.) Brandon (the drummer) had a bet with Mandalynn over who could get more numbers.  Mandalynn won, but Brandon went home with more guys.  Daniella elected not to go, saying that she needed to spend time with her fiancé. (Smart girl.) And you've already been enlightened as to what Alex and I were doing.

Damn. Tonight is the night of the big movie premiere. And tomorrow… tomorrow, I have a few choice words for my ex-husband. I almost feel sorry for what will be left of him when Ginny, Hermione and I are through with him. Oh, yeah. He's…

Brrrrrrrinnngggg. Bloody hell. I forgot about the phone. I answer it and find myself listening to my 1:00 PM wakeup call. (Hey, after the night I had, I deserve to sleep late.) Reluctantly, I drag myself out of bed and head to the closet. Remembering Hermione's statement on Thursday, I start to remove my favourite God Save the Queen T-shirt and a pair of faded, ripped jeans. Then I remember what's on the agenda for today. Instead, I reach in and pull out a red button-down and my favourite pair of Diesel jeans and a pair of red-and-white Puma trainers. I decide to leave the punk clothes for tomorrow; after all, that's when Fred will know the REAL meaning of 'Anarchy in the UK.' I walk towards the loo, but not before Alex's voice calls out to me. "Hey, Toni! Want some company in the shower?"

So he's awake now. The way he called me, so reminiscent of… Dammit, don't think that Angelina. Today is Alex's day; tomorrow we'll deal with Fred. I turn around slowly. "No, Alex. We'd never get out otherwise. And I'm operating on a schedule."

"The movie isn't for another eight hours."

"I know. And I still have to visit the spa, get my hair and nails done, and pick up my dress from Vera's. All in New York traffic on a Saturday."

"Fine. You've made your point. And to be perfectly honest, with the hangover I have, I'm in no condition to screw anyway. Frankly, it amazes me that you were even able to get up this morning." He glances at the clock. "I mean, afternoon."

"Trust me, my head feels as heavy as hell." And with that, I walk into the bathroom. After shutting the door, I reach into one of the drawers and pull out my wand. I perform a charm for pain relief on myself. I don't think I've used another spell more in my twenty-two years (being married to Fred caused many a headache). Immediately, my head no longer feels like it weighs a ton. It amazes me how easily magic has come back to me.

I turn on the water and step into the shower. Surprisingly, it's quite warm straight out of the nozzle. It feels so good; I love pulsating showerheads. Unfortunately, like I told Alex a few minutes ago, I'm on a schedule. I hop out of the shower and dry off with at quick spell before wrapping myself in a fluffy towel and walking back into the bedroom.

My towel falls to the floor and Alex gives an appreciative whistle. "If you weren't in such a hurry, I'd take you back to bed right now."

"Sod off," I say, pulling on my knickers.

"Isn't that British slang?" he asks me with a cheeky grin on his face.

"My mother was a Brit. So sue me." Okay, so I'm lying to him. I do it on a regular basis; everyday, in fact. I've gotten quite good at it. I button my shirt and slide on my jeans. I sit on the bed so that I can put on my trainers, but Alex pulls me close before I can even get one on.

"I love you," he whispers.

"Love you, too," I answer half-heartedly. Luckily, he doesn't notice and kisses me. I kiss him back, but with nowhere near as much passion. I pull away. "I have appointments all afternoon, Alex. I have to leave." And with that, I give him a peck on the lips, lace up my trainers, grab the keys to the Miata and step out the door. I look around to see if anyone is there. Confident that the coast is clear, I pull out my wand and Disapparate, praying that I end up in the car.

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I put the keys in the ignition of the Miata and put the top down. I love convertibles; driving down the street with my hair in the wind reminds me of flying. Except that I can't do all kinds of tricks with an auto. I pull out of the parking garage and onto the street. Thank Merlin, I was taught how to drive in France; otherwise, I'd be screwed trying to drive in the States.

I ease into traffic and head in the direction of the spa. I hate New York traffic. It's so damn slow. And when you're in a hurry… If I could make this car fly, I would. My mobile rings. Damn. I look at the illuminated dial and it's a number I don't recognise. I glance back up; we're finally moving. The phone rings again. I press the button to answer it. "Hello?"

"Angelina, where are you?" It's Hermione. Double damn. I was supposed to meet her and Ginny at the spa. I managed to get them tickets to the show.

"I'm stuck in traffic," I answer irritably. Thank Merlin, we're moving again.

"Why didn't you just Apparate?"

"And what was I supposed to do with the Miata?"

"Leave it in the garage. If someone asked about it, you could've just said you caught a cab," she answers matter-of-factly

Triple damn. She's such a pompous smartarse. I hate it when she makes sense; it just gives her another excuse to be an insufferable know-it-all. "Well, I got distracted so I didn't think of your oh-so-brilliant suggestion."

"Don't take your frustrations out on me. No one told you to shag all morning and be late."

"I didn't shag all morning, Granger; I shagged all night."

"Same thing."

The light changes and the BMW in front of me just sits there. Fuck. I'm already late. I honk until the idiot in front of me finally realises that the light is green. But by that time, the light is red. The driver turns around to flip me off and I get a glimpse of her face. My cousin Adrienne (my family has a weird fascination with 'A' names), the squib. "Fuck," I mutter.

"Angie, what happened?" Shit. I forgot Hermione was still on my mobile. Oh well; might as well tell her the truth.

"The idiot ahead of me just caused me to miss the light."

"Damn."

I see my exit coming. "Look, Mione, I'm about five minutes away. How long until our appointments?"

"About seven. You'd better hurry, Angie; Tina Parker waits for no one."

"I know, I know." After hanging up, I swing the little Miata onto the exit ramp. I look at the speedometer. Damn. I'm doing eighty-eight; the speed limit is seventy. Thank Merlin there aren't any cops around. I hightail it to the spa and make it with about a minute to spare. I park the Miata in the garage and run up the three flights of stairs, strolling up to the receptionist's desk very out of breath.

"Go on in, Ms. Toussaint; Tina's waiting for you."

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At 6:00 PM…

I finally leave Tina's station. She did a fabulous job, as usual. I wouldn't trust my hair, face and nails to anyone else in New York.

My dark brown hair has been streaked with red and most of it has been piled on my head in an elegantly coifed bun. A few strands at the front frame my face, giving it that heart-shaped effect (instead of its plain oval shape). My make-up looks natural, but I've always had flawless skin. (It's a good thing I ended up with a lot of my mum's genes; Papa's relatives had horrible acne well into adulthood.) Except for my eyes. She opted for 'glam eyes' or something like that. All I know is that they're really dramatic and they look good. My lips are a very pale rose tint. She lined them in the same reddish-brown shade as my natural lip colour and filled them with the lip colour before adding a clear gloss over it to protect it from smudging and to make my lips appear extra shiny. And my nails are about two and one-half centimetres, rounded and painted the same scarlet as my dress with flecks of gold glitter airbrushed onto them. I must repeat my words from Thursday: Damn I look good. Well, my hair, nails and face look good; my 'outfit' on the other hand… Well, I'll remedy that in a couple of hours.

Hermione and Ginny are waiting for me in the lobby. Their stylists did a great job on them, not that they looked bad to begin with. Hermione's cinnamon hair has been highlighted and straightened so that it falls in loose waves about her shoulders. Her make-up is natural, but a light dusting of powder accents her high cheekbones and gives her peaches-and-cream complexion a soft glow. Her nails are considerably shorter than mine and have been French manicured with a single rhinestone at the tip of each nail. Ginny's appearance has changed the most out of all of us. She's wearing no make-up, save for a bit of clear gloss. Unlike Hermione and me, her nails aren't elaborately decorated. Instead, hers have just been trimmed and a couple of coats of clear polish have been applied. Nothing too fancy, but elegant nonetheless. But her hair… Molly Weasley is going to have a fit when she sees it. Ginny's long hair is now shoulder-length and wavy. And instead of being the trademark Weasley crimson, it has been dyed. Raven black. It looks awesome, but if she doesn't fix it before we go back to England tomorrow… She'll be dead and Mione and I will be too for allowing her to do something like that to her hair.

Gin looks at me "You look so beautiful!" she gushes. "Now go back in there and get rid of it."

What the hell is wrong with her? "What the hell is wrong with you, Gin?"

Hermione speaks for her best friend. "There's nothing wrong with her. It's just that with that and your dress, you are going to look totally shagalicious." I raise my eyebrow. I know Dr. Hermione Granger did not just say the word 'shagalicious.'

"And what's wrong with that?"

"If you look shagalicious, then Alex is going to want to shag you. Which means we won't be able to leave right after the movie."

"Uh… You thought we were going to leave right after the movie?"

"Yeah. When did you think we were going to leave?"

"Sunday. We have after-parties to go to and interviews to give right after the premiere." She groans. "Welcome to Muggle Hollywood."

Ginny stands up and the three of us walk to the Miata. Suddenly, she turns to me. "You know, I couldn't care less about how much Alex wants to shag you. I was worried about Fred trying to shag you before you can even say anything." Then she gives me a cheeky grin. "So exactly how many parties are we hitting tonight?"

"Four, at the very least."

"At the very least?"

"Yep."

"Bring 'em on."

Behind us, Hermione groans again.

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6:23 PM

We make it to Manhattan in near record time. Traffic wasn't bumper-to-bumper and I didn't get caught by a single red light. Twenty-one minutes. I love this car; not even my Corvette goes this fast. Maybe I should buy a Miata when I get back to Europe.

We step into the boutique and Vera hands over the dress and matching accessories. My gown is in an opaque garment bag to prevent people from seeing it before tonight. She also gives me a fairly large amount of double-sided tape. I don't need it, though; I've used a fair amount of Adhesive Charms in my life.

I asked Mione and Gin about their dresses for the premiere. They responded that they would just use their wands to change clothes. I wish I had that luxury, but if I used my wand, someone would find out and it would be in the Enquirer and other such publications. Then it would get back to Percy since he's the current British Minister of Magic, which means it'll be in both the Daily Prophet and the Quibbler. Nope, can't use my wand. Besides, I've already shelled out a good $1500 for this dress that I will only wear once in my life.

For a few minutes, I listen to Vera ramble on about how sexy I'll look. Hermione rolls her eyes and taps her foot impatiently, while Ginny just looks bored. After what seems like forever, we finally get out of the shop. The clock in the auto says that the time is 6:45 PM. Then my mobile rings, playing Sheila E's The Glamorous Life (I love the irony). I don' t even need to look at the dial to know that it's Alex wondering where I am.

"Hello?"

"Toni, where the hell are you?"

"On my way back to the hotel. I'll be there in about twenty minutes."

"Well, hurry up will you? The limo will be here soon."

"Not for another hour."

"But the party…"

"Doesn't matter. We'll be fashionably late. Besides, we're going to the all the after-parties."

"You really up for going back to Edelweiss tonight?"

"Hey, so long as I don't consume my weight in alcohol and X, I'm cool."

"A'ight then. I love you."

"Love you, too."

I hang up just as I make a right onto the exit ramp. And Ginny gapes at me from the passenger seat. "What? I didn't go that fast."

"Screw your driving; how long have you been on drugs?"

"What drugs? Ecstasy?" She nods. "About a year and a half. I started taking it for severe depression, but now I only pop one every once in a while in a social setting."

"What's the high like? Is it really as intense as everyone says it is?"

"GINNY!!! ANGIE!!!" Hermione yells. "Don't you two know two know how dangerous that stuff is?!"

"You'll find out soon enough," I continue like I haven't heard a word she said. "Pretty much everyone does it; you get the best deal from Travis Fox, though. And it's pretty much a requirement to get in at Club Edelweiss."

"ARRGH!!" comes Hermione's voice from the back. "I can't believe I'm hearing to this conversation!"

Fortunately, I don't have to respond to her or answer any more of Ginny's questions about my drug of choice because I just pulled reached the hotel. I park and we take the elevator to the penthouse.

"Wow. This is posh, Angie," Ginny says in amazement while Hermione's jaw drops to the floor. I'm surprised that Hermione is so awe-struck; her family is, after all, fairly wealthy. But then, my official residence is a castle, so my perceptions of normal might be skewed just the tiniest bit.

"Isn't it though?" I say in an overly pompous voice, a la Percy. "I only accept the best." My companions laugh. "But seriously, this suite is where I always stay when I'm in New York."

"How much time do you spend in the States?" Hermione asks me as I head towards the bathroom for a quick shower.

"Quite a bit, actually. Maybe a week each month. I'm considering just getting a flat; this place is too damn expensive," I call back.

"Says the woman who is about to wear a 207 Galleon dress only once," she mutters to Ginny.

"I heard that, Granger!" my muffled voice comes from the shower.

"You were supposed to!"

I step out of the shower and dry myself off before slipping into my gown. I mutter a quick Adhesive Charm to prevent my flashing anyone at the premiere. I check myself in the mirror to make sure my hair and make-up is still in place; it is. (Thank Merlin for Impervious Charms; they're dead useful.) I come out for my shoes, jewellery, and handbag and see Mione and Gin. They're dressed already.

Hermione is wearing the classic little black dress. It has spaghetti straps and rests just past her knees. Her shoes are strappy sandals that show off her manicured toes. But the heels can't be any more than five centimetres high. Her ensemble isn't surprising by any stretch of the imagination. Simple, elegant, classy. Yep, that's Hermione Granger all right.

Ginny on the other hand is wearing a form-fitting blue dress that matches her eyes exactly. (A/N: I know Gin's eyes are brown, but Alex kind of messed that up, so just go with me here.) It also complements her new hair colour well. Her matching shoes and purse are Gucci; I'd recognise that logo anywhere. And the shoes give her an extra nine centimetres of height, making her nearly as tall as me. She wears no jewellery except a pair of silver hoop earrings and the white gold locket Draco gave her before he died.

My mobile rings. It's Alex, again. I don't even bother checking the number before answering. "Dammit, Alex, I'm at the hotel dressed and ready. You don't have to keep checking up on me."

"Um, Angie, this isn't Daniels."