Dennis was rapidly losing patience.

“Look. This is ridiculous, Pen. We’re far beyond fashionably late at this point: now we’re just plain rude. Claire and Daphne have probably locked themselves in the coat-check room by now! You know how they feel about crowds.”

He reached for the door handle. Penny threw herself against the door, immersing Dennis in the puffy folds of her taffeta-and-crinoline party dress.

“Denn, noooooooo! You have to announce my arrivaaaaal! You promiiiiised!”

Dennis recoiled at her high-decibel whine, and raised his hands in surrender.

“All right. Fine. But don’t come crying to me when The Scandalizer reports that you didn’t even show up to your own party. Wake me up when you’re ready to greet your public,” he said pointedly before settling into the soft leather seat of the limousine, closing his eyes, and humming softly to himself.

Penny glared angrily at Dennis. He was always so right about everything. The Scandalizer tabloid was in turn her best friend, and her worst enemy. Her appearances on the high-profile party circuit meant that she was a favourite subject for their pithy news stories and scurrilous blind items. She could always count on them for press, but there was no predicting whether it would be good or bad. Best to play it safe for tonight.

“Okay, fine,” she said, nudging her brother in the arm. “I’m ready.”

Dennis perked up immediately.

“Excellent. After you, birthday girl!” He pushed open the door and stepped out, offering Penny his hand. She emerged from the limousine and flashed the smile she’d been rehearsing in the mirror. But instead of being greeted with flashbulbs and fanfare as she’d expected, Penny was met with a horde of photographers who were focused entirely on someone else.

“They missed my reveal… I’m getting back in the car. Go tell them that I’ve arrived.”

Dennis glared at her.

“Pleeeaase, Denn? It’s my biiiiirthdaaaay!” she whined.

“Fine,” Dennis muttered, “consider this your present.”

“Thanks, Denn!” said Penny brightly.

Dennis trudged across the street, and muscled his way into the paparazzi scrum. He peered through the crush of people.

“…Oh…no…” he whispered. Standing amidst the mass of paparazzi was his brother, Mitch, charming them with his witty banter and one-liners of questionable taste. Dennis waved his hands frantically, trying to get his brother’s attention.

“Mitch!” he hissed. “Miiitch!” Mitch spotted his brother and beamed.

“Hey, bro! Come say hi to my friends!” He grabbed Dennis by the hand and pulled him into the centre of the scrum, throwing his arm around his big brother’s shoulder and posing with aplomb. Dennis hissed at Mitch through clenched teeth.

“Get inside! Now! It’s Penny’s time!”

Mitch turned to him.

“Oh yeah? Great! Hey, guys!” he addressed the paparazzi, “Everybody inside! IT’S PENNY TIME!” He turned to the doorman. “They’re with me, Chad!”

Chad obligingly released the velvet rope as Mitch and his crew filed into the club, leaving the sidewalk completely deserted except for Dennis, and the trodden red carpet.

Dennis didn’t dare return to the car.

“Oh dear,” he said under his breath, as the sound of the car door slamming shut reverberated through the night air. He closed his eyes in anticipation of the impending firestorm. Penny tapped her brother on the shoulder.

“What did you do with my camerapeople?”

Dennis shook his head.

“I’m so sorry, Penn, but Mitch showed up, and you know how everybody loves Mitch…”
Penny stomped her foot.

“Uuuuugg! NO ONE EVEN KNOWS I’M ALIVE!” she screamed before storming toward the club. Dennis lingered on the sidewalk. Mitch would have to deal with this one on his own.

Embroiled in his sister’s dramatics, Dennis didn’t notice the lone photographer who had casually approached, and was now standing next to him. The photographer raised his camera and took a single shot of Penny as she roughly shoved Chad aside and entered her party. Dennis turned to the man.

“Do you work for a magazine?” he asked hopefully.

The man nodded. “Uh-huh. Scandalizer.”

Dennis was encouraged. “Excellent. Would you do me a favour and mention my sister? It’s her birthday today.”

The man jovially patted Dennis on the back.

“I’ll do ya one better,” he said before breaking into a sprint after a passing limousine. “Lead photo on next week’s Fashion Disasters!” he called over his shoulder.

Dennis was suddenly struck with a wave of nausea.

“Oh dear.”