Poseur #4: All That Glitters Is Not Gucci by Rachel Maude Read Free Book Online Page A

Melissa blurted in interruption, unable to take it anymore. “Not to be a killjoy, but that’s an Eamon song.”
    Seedy slowly nodded, still gazing at his keyboard, and then his face crumpled.
Ho no,
thought Melissa.
Was he going to cry?
    She’d have to kick it up a notch.
    “Christopher Duane
Moon
!” she screeched in perfect imitation of his late mother’s terrifying Korean accent. “Stop feeling so bad or I
make
you feel so very, very bad you cry like
gye jip ae
!”
    Seedy sucked in his breath, stunned, and Melissa pursed her lips, triumphant. “Look, Daddy,” she continued in agentler tone. “Whenever something bad happens, all you got to do is think,
This makes room for something good
.” She leaned forward, reaching for his knee. “You remember who said that?”
    The mournful rap mogul gazed at his daughter, timid. “Eckhart Tolle?”
    “No, Daddy. You did.”
    He whispered. “I did?”
    “Yeah, Daddy. And you know what else you said?
That no matter how bad things get
, there’re always people much worse off. I mean, just look at Miss P, for example.”
    “Lena?” Seedy perked up at the sound of her name. Although he’d met Melissa’s mysterious teacher for a teacher-parent conference,
     they’d ended up bonding a bit over music. Not that they shared similar tastes in any respect—he was hard-core into hip-hop,
     while she was committed to classical—but still. Then, when Vivien wanted a classical pianist for their engagement party, he
     invited Lena to audition. Imagine his surprise when she waltzed into their living room and performed a perfectly delicate,
     classical rendition of his early nineties megahit “Bi Bim Bitches.” Man, it damn near blew his
mind
. After that, he found himself listening more and more to classical tracks. Yeah, like,
voluntarily
. He had to admit some of those puffy-haired white dudes were all right.
    Of course, it helped that Lena made him a mix.
    Wondered what she thought of his?
    “That’s right,” Melissa eagerly continued, encouraged by her father’s sudden alertness. “Miss Paletsky broke up with
her
fiancé, too, remember? But unlike you, gettin’ your Phantom on in a Bel Air mansion, she’s got no place.” Ruefully, she shook
     her head. “Unless you count Room 201B.”
    Seedy nodded in sympathy. “You mean that new hotel on Melrose with the live white tiger in the lobby?”
    “No,” she groaned in despair. “It’s one of the rooms at Winston. Like, she’s sleeping at
school
?”
    “Come on,” Seedy cracked a smile, refusing to buy his daughter’s dramatics. “Where’d you come up with that idea?”
    “Um… because I found all her funky toiletries in my desk drawer while conducting the Poseur meeting today?” She gaped, daring
     him to refute her. “For real, Daddy. Woman is
homeless
, as in without a
home
.”
    Seedy frowned at the floor, slowly shaking his unkempt head. “I was homeless for a while,” he admitted. “Back in eighty-four.
     Man, those were tough times. Real tough.”
    He looked around his roomful of twinklingly expensive equipment and sighed, his black eyes growing glassy. “Lissa!” He smacked
     the arm of his seat so suddenly his daughter jumped. “We have got to help her.”
    “Who?” Melissa paused. “Miss P?”
    “Yes, Miss P!” Seedy leaped to his feet. “I refuse to letthat good and, and
beautiful
soul sleep in a drafty old classroom. It’s not right!”
    “She can come live in our second guesthouse!” blurted Melissa. The Moons’ second guesthouse was not only completely gorgeous,
     but also perfectly
untouched
—unless you count the time MTV shot that episode of
Cribs.
She clapped her hands, giddy. Not only would they be helping her out, but, you know, it might be kind of fun having her around.
     At times, Miss Paletsky reminded Melissa of her own mom, you know, before she got cracked-out and crazy.
    “Perfect!” Seedy agreed. But then his face fell. “Except.”
    “No!” Melissa