Page 121 of Make Me Laugh

Jumping, I freeze when a spotlight catches me.

I put my hand up to block it from shining directly into my eyes. If it weren’t so bright, I might be able to make out every single detail of the shit eating grin West’s wearing.

“Shit, Hex. I’m sorry… Did I forget to tell you?” He covers his mouth, sucking in a breath as he curls his hand into a fist. He holds it there until bringing the mic back to speak. “I might have mentioned it would be funny to have a witch hunt for Halloween. First person to find Hex gets a free T-shirt.” He motions to the man pumping his fists in the air as his section of the theater cheers.

“My wife wants the top she’s wearing!” The burly man points to me again.

I’m wearing a black tank top with red lettering that reads, Live. Laugh. Lobotomy. It’s the perfect shirt to wear on Halloween as a reminder of what they did to anyone who didn’t fit into what society deemed “normal.”

West doesn’t hesitate. “Oh, fuck yeah! Hex, take your shirt off!” He crosses his arms and laughs away from the mic. It’s not the fake West Parker stage laugh either. It travels well even without the direct audio feed.

Everyone hoots and hollers. I flip him off and smile.

“What shirt are you wearing?” he asks, trying to see through the bright lights. “Come closer. I can’t see.” He squints, waving me towards the stage. People shout the words on my shirt until West can’t get anything straight. “You motherfuckers aren’t helping! Shut up!” he scolds them with a laugh.

It’s been a fun audience tonight, giving him opportunities to work the crowd since the moment he stepped on stage.

Moving slowly, I stop just shy of the first row, knowing West is going to complain about the space between us. “Seriously, closer. I’m hot and funny, not super sighted, Jesus Christ.”

I get as close to the stage as I can, cocking my head back. I pull the bottom of the top away from my skin, making it easier for him to read the three words across my chest.

He drops to his knees, coming to the edge of the stage like he needs fucking bifocals to see, when really I know he’s admiring my tits in this pushup bra. West winks at me and then flips his hat around. The brand’s name is embroidered over the strap.

HOTSHOT.

West has already joked about buying the company.

I keep my cool, but the women in the crowd don’t. They cheer like West is half-naked and his clothes keep coming off.

I see some of the comments other women leave Hex, and they’re all valid questions—ones I’ve thought of myself more times than I can count. Who would be okay with a man who flirts with other women every single night on stage for the world to see? If he’s acting like that openly, what’s he doing when no one’s around to see?

I wouldn’t be okay with a man who does what West does… if it weren’t West doing it. People see his obsession with Hex on stage as a joke—they think it’s part of the West Parker persona, part of the act we’ve been putting on since Boston.

I know it’s not.

He chuckles at my shirt, despite already knowing what it says. He laughed about it for thirty minutes straight on our way to the venue this afternoon. “Baby, I’ll lobottom you anytime.” The audience goes feral, cheering louder than they have all night. I swat his leg and storm away while West waves at my departure. “Everyone say goodbye to Hex.” Lots of voices mix to bid me farewell, but I only pay attention to the one coming from the mic. “God, isn’t she pretty when she’s being mean to me?”

There’s no chance he hasn’t been sitting on that joke all day.

He ends the show a few minutes later, and as much as I would love to be able to leave the theater for the night, especially since we have one more here tomorrow, West and I can’t, because we have to film our video for tomorrow’s post—this time for his profiles.

After everyone leaves, we set up to film on the stage, promising the small cleaning crew we wouldn’t take long. It felt like a lie when I told them, but much to my surprise, we did a lot better than our first time filming together.

Bringing West into Hex’s world has gone smoother than I imagined it could.

We had quite a few hiccups, but in the end, I think it’s a night I’ll be thinking about for the rest of my life. It seems I’m collecting a lot of those moments with West lately.

I spend well into the night editing the video with West passed out on the couch across from me. He said he’d feel bad if I stayed up late to work on our stuff by myself and then proceeded to fall asleep about ten minutes later.

West doesn’t help do any of the editing anyway—that’s my job, but I adore him for not wanting to leave me alone while I do it.

We haven’t been staying in the RV at all anymore, and even though we have the extra money in the budget to splurge for places, we haven’t had to do that more than a couple times.

Brands are eager to get a piece of whatever we’re willing to give them, even if it means giving their penthouses up for the week.

I don’t wait until morning to post. Why bother when it’ll go viral anyway?

Instant virality is a blessing and a curse.