Hae Won swiped her cell with a perfectly manicured fingertip and said, "There is absolutely no reason for us to be in our seats so early! No, we're ready, but the heat from all the lights and equipment--we'll be all wilted by the time the broadcast starts."

The "broadcast" was a live induction ceremony for the Time Top 100—you remember that, right? AJ begged me to let this be my first baby step into his celebrity world if he could find a way to slip me past the media.

Hae Won swiped "off" and glanced over from the chair next to mine in her salon room—yes, she had an entire beauty salon in her house of course. "It's a good thing he wrote his little acceptance speech on a note card. Cause when he looks down and sees you looking like that..."

I wasn't sure he'd even recognize me. Cause the face staring back at me in that mirror was a version of myself I'd never met before.

They had sort of erased my natural face and drawn it back on—the way drag queens do, you know? Made me an idealized, wax museum replica of the Eboni I knew.

And they'd stuffed my Bantu butt into a bustier ensemble all cinched at the waist and hugging the hills and valleys all the way down to about mid-calf.

Had to open the back seam up to just above the knee in back so I could walk in the damned thing. And the Louboutins were so steep I still toddled like a geisha even after that.

Plus, the hairdresser had slicked my hair back into a curly ponytail with some kind of gel designed to keep it from frizzing up so I looked like a Black Barbie doll. The original 50s one, swear to God.

Hae Won looked like Hae Won. I mean, she was born looking like some artist had drawn her features on with one of those real fine brushes that make the most delicate, perfect lines.

She narrowed her deftly outlined eyes when I stood up and slung the press pass lavalier around my neck. "Hope we didn't go too far. Reporters don't dress for these things as a rule. You have the press card, too, right? In case they get weird."

I wasn't the least bit worried, though.

I'd been there when AJ told her, "Your family probably owns the company that owns the magazine for Chrissake! Pull some strings."

And it took her only took her a couple of phone calls to get me credentials as a "contributing writer" for some glossy European magazine. I've actually forgotten what it was called, but I had to learn the names of all the editors and whatnot, too. One in particular, who would take the call if a call became necessary.

Easy peasy as all that had been, getting all tarted up for the thing made me deeply grateful that AJ and I would be off to see the mythical America in his head in only a few more days.

They were being mad strict with the protocols that evening because it was the first time they'd ever broadcast the induction ceremony live.

So pretty soon one of Hae Won's assistants came bustling in to bustle us out to the sedan that was sitting there glistening like patent leather in the sunlight.

That skirt made it kinda hard for me to get in, but I sort of scooched my butt in first, and swung my legs around, after.

Hae Won had chosen this "fit and flare" kind of retro ensemble. She looked like a Korean Audrey Hepburn. Slid in as gracefully as you'd expect.

And took hold of my hand as the car pulled off and said, "I'm so glad you're here for him."

"And thank you for making that happen."

She paused to check her cell and then said, "You should do this, too. We'll all have to shut them off once the broadcast starts. You can't even let them vibrate."

"Why on Earth..."

"Well, this isn't like music or movie awards where there's a lot of noise. Otherwise he probably would've texted you all night like he does with the Angels sometimes."

"God, it's like he's married to those girls!"

"Well, that's as married as he'll be for a good long time, so..."

I smirked and she laughed and said, "Actually, he's been married to you his whole life in a way. God, so annoying..."

I didn't know how to deal with that even though I knew they'd been...well...whatever they'd been. So I just gave her another little glare—a playful one—and let that subject drop right quick.

They'd chosen this really beautiful art gallery for the event. The room where the ceremony would be held felt like we were sitting inside a gigantic Swarovski crystal.

We had to walk the red carpet to get there, but we were just some of those people you see in the background behind the celebs being asked "Who are you wearing?" and all that on camera.

I was literally stunned senseless by all the lights and noise—photographers and reporters yelling out the names of the celebs they were trying to get good shots of.

So, I was kind of tongue-tied when we got to the little "checkpoint" where this woman with a headset pointed to my press pass and said, "The press entrance is—"

"She's my plus one," Hae Won said, pointing to her name on the tablet screen. "There we are."

So, Headset nodded and beckoned to an usher who took us to a table 'way up front that didn't have a bunch of other people sitting there like the others did.

"If you need a potty break, take it now," Hae Won advised as soon as we were seated. "Once the broadcast starts, you won't be able to get up unless you absolutely have to. And even then, they'll try to make you wait 'til a commercial break."

"You comin'?"

She waggled fingers at someone and sighed, "I've got some schmoozing to do—you go on ahead."

And honest to God, I almost couldn't make myself stand up, let alone walk through that star-studded crowd. I mean, I'm weird about getting up at the movies or on a plane to go to the bathroom. So having all these famous faces eyeball you on your way through...

Freaked me out so bad that I sat in the stall sort of wringing my hands trying to calm down. I almost couldn't pee.

But when my heart finally stopped racing I went out and checked my face and dress. Ignored the other women checking each other and me out in the big mirror to keep from freaking out again.

And then a few steps from the Ladies, this big security dude stepped up and said, "Press box is upstairs."

"I'm seated down here, though. With--"

He yanked me aside and said, "Name?"

"What?"

"Name," he said, swiping something on his phone.

And when he found me on the press list he actually walked me to the elevator that would take me up to this balcony where the press was seated like he was pissed that I wasn't lying.

Happened so fast I didn't know what the hell to do. The elevator took us up and when the doors opened an usher looked over my head at the security guy who said, "International," or something like that.

And then I felt a hand in the small of my back and was rushed through some double doors into a crowd of people climbing all over each other and the seats trying to get those money shots. But I felt like my ancestors must have back when they used to make Black people sit in the balcony back in the day.

That security guy...there was something about the way he spoke to and looked at me—and he was Black, actually. Almost all the security I'd seen were POC...

I got out my cell to let Hae Won know where I was but when it went straight to voicemail I remembered our phones weren't even vibrating...

And then the lights did something—dimmed a lot, but didn't go all the way out. And the lights onstage kind of got more intense, so the inductees started stiffening up into their "public" personas.

AJ looked like a prince, as usual. Bespoke suit fitting him like...damn...

I told myself it was enough just to be able to see him, though I'd wanted him to be able to see me, too. That was the real point of Hae Won getting that table down front. For him to be able to glance down at us from time to time.

So I decided to ease my way up and out. Maybe pretend I was going to the bathroom again or something. Clutched my 'way too expensive little bag against my chest and ducked down trying to make myself as invisible as possible.

But an usher blocked me when I got to the doors. "They're locked down now. Show's about to start."

"No, see...well, I have a little...emergency."

He gave me a "damn these women" kind of smirk and said, "May not let you back in here, Security."

Another one who kinda didn't believe I belonged—Hae Won was right, apparently. I was either overdressed or...I wasn't quite sure what the problem was.

And as I slid out of the doors, another security guard who had to have been a football player in a past life stepped right in front of me and said, "You got some ID matches that name on there?"

He nodded toward the lavalier with the press pass on it. And before I could even answer, he said, "Cause y'all always tryin'a be slick."

"Y'all?"

And after we'd stared at each other for a few beats, he sighed and said, "Look, I'ma take you at your word, okay? But you bet not be one o' these bitches we been chasin' outta here all day—these dudes ain't tryin'a be messin' around wit all they wives and whatnot sittin' out there."

I was about to blow when he barked into his little radio thing and ran off after one of those "bitches" he was surer of, I guess. And I ran for the stairs as best I could in those damned death shoes.

But I got scooped up and hustled all the way out of the goddamned building by two guards who must have thought I was the one he was trying to catch and would not even hear anything I tried to say.

So there I was, alone on the red carpet with all these fans and media people staring at me like I was some kind of insect that just scuttled out onto the red carpet and spoiled the vibe.

I raised my chin up to let not tear one fall. And teetered off down the block in my red-bottomed stilettos, arches aching so bad I was sure I'd never walk again once I took those shoes off.

But my heart was aching a whole lot more than my feet.