Chapter 12
OWN MY LIFE
Have you ever had that feeling that your life is so out of control, and you don’t know what to do with it? I just want to own my life.
The papers keep the pictures of me and Luc at the charity gala to page seven. We haven’t been plastered across the front page since the movie premiere. Even my singing Falling In Love on a Tuesday Afternoon in the Song Salon didn’t make a big splash on the headlines.
It seems people are already losing interest in my love life, and Mimi and Jess seem concerned.
Colin-From-The-Label has been on at them about tour interest. He thinks I’m not going to sell out, and if I don’t, I’ll probably be dropped from my label.
What a terrible time for my five-year contract to come to an end.
Jess is trying to formulate a plan to cause intrigue. But right now, it doesn’t look like the relationship is working. Are we not interesting enough? Do people not believe our relationship as they should, or do they believe it so they’re leaving us to be happy?
And I know people are concerned over whether I can sing or not anymore. But I’m sure with a vocal coach’s help I’ll be fine by the tour.
I pour over the articles online, those written today to those from a few days ago. If it’s not working, do we call off the arrangement early?
Jess and Mimi both said I should know it depends on the day’s news agenda and because the pictures were so similar to pictures seen of us before, they weren’t as likely to gain the traction the initial news did.
My phone flashes, Luc’s name distracting me from my spiralling thoughts.
LUC
Can I plan our next date?
SIENNA
Sure
My stomach feels like it’s floating, ready to fly out of my body. I try to stop my lips from curling in the corners, but it’s a useless effort – a fight I cannot win. I drum my fingers on my phone, keeping the chat open while I wait for Luc’s next reply.
LUC
Great, because I already did
SIENNA
Cool, what are we doing?
LUC
You’ll see when we get there
I take it I won’t get you on the tube?
SIENNA
Definitely not
LUC
No prob, can you ask Kareem to pick us up at 7? I’ll get to yours just before that
SIENNA
Sure
Does Mimi know about this?
LUC
Yep
SIENNA
Can you just call me next time?
It’s easier than this back and forth messaging
LUC
Ah, you’re not a texting girl – good to know!
He finishes with a smiling emoji. I can’t work out if he’s joking or not. Another reason I hate texting. Nearly as much as I hate surprises.
I open my contacts and dial Mimi. ‘Question for you,’ I start. ‘What is Luc planning?’
Her loud, infectious laugh rings through the phone. ‘It’s funny when you aren’t in the know.’
I mock roll my eyes even though she can’t see me. ‘I feel like I’m never in the know recently.’
‘He wants to surprise you, Sienna. Let him. It’s nice!’
‘You know how I feel about surprises.’
‘You’ll like this one.’
‘How do you know?’
‘I know you.’
She’s so sure of herself when she says it, I almost believe her.
But how can she know me when I don’t really know myself?
I only know myself as who society thinks I am.
A girl who sleeps around too much and doesn’t let anyone close, who writes beautiful break-up songs even though she’s never really had a real relationship to draw inspiration from.
A girl who just wants her grandparents back to tell her how to be, how to live.
A girl who would rather distance herself from everyone than let someone new into her inner circle.
A girl who ran from the only man who has ever truly made her feel like love was something that could be on the cards for her.
Luc still won’t tell me what the plan is when he’s in front of me, smirking in my doorway, Kareem waiting for us outside.
I’ve already had to change my outfit because I wore something far too fancy for what we’re doing – yet another reason I hate surprises.
And then Luc arrived with the ‘perfect outfit’ – or so he says – from my stylist. Now I’m standing here in black jeans and a black, off-the shoulder top with fluted sleeves.
My shoes aren’t too high – a sandal with a chunky heel.
I know that I shouldn’t, but I can’t help worrying whether there will be enough people there.
Whether enough press will see us for us to be able to make the most out of this outing.
I don’t want to waste Luc’s time. Colin-From-The-Label is getting itchy feet, and I want to be handed a new contract sooner rather than later.
‘You look beautiful,’ Luc says.
I hate the way my body reacts to the compliment. Like it hasn’t caught up with this new friendship between us. We have boundaries.
‘Thank you,’ I croak through my dry voice. Am I nervous? That wouldn’t be wise.
He picks up my bag for me from next to the front door and hands it to me. ‘After you,’ he smiles, placing his hand on the back of my shoulder to guide me to Kareem’s car.
Another camera flash.
Maybe interest isn’t waning.
‘Good evening, Miss Martin.’
‘Kareem, you can call me Sienna,’ I tell him, with a mock sigh. ‘Hi, Dennis,’ I say, and he nods in return.
‘Let’s keep the destination a surprise for Miss Martin, please, Kareem,’ Luc smirks. Kareem laughs and nods his agreement.
‘Don’t you start,’ I warn, and Luc’s eyes glitter.
We set off and, after a few minutes, I notice Kareem’s eyes keep flickering up to the interior mirror.
‘We have a pap behind us,’ he says calmly. ‘On a motorbike.’
I breathe in sharply, and hear Luc do the same.
‘Is he following us, Kareem, or chasing?’ Dennis asks.
‘Hard to tell at the moment because he’s trying to catch up to us.’
‘A chase?’ Luc gasps. ‘Isn’t that how Diana died?’
‘This kind of thing happens a lot,’ I tell him, trying to reassure him but also knowing that this isn’t very reassuring at all. ‘Kareem is an expert at losing them.’
Kareem narrowly makes a left-hand turn as the traffic lights turn amber, leaving the motorbike behind us as we go down some residential streets until we can be sure that he’s no longer following us.
We aren’t in the car for much longer, maybe about thirty minutes, before we pull up outside a shop on a high street.
There are people going about their business on both sides of the road, rushing and squeezing in between gaps of slow walkers.
It’s a high street I’ve never seen before, but it looks quite similar to my local high street growing up.
Stains on the pavement, litter strewn across the road.
I wonder whether this is what all high streets look like nowadays, or whether we’ve ended up somewhere a bit destitute, unsavoury.
‘Luc…’ I start, but he’s already opening the door.
There’s a pang of disappointment deep in my belly, ready to tell Luc to get back in the car so we can turn around.
There’s no way I can get out of the car here.
It isn’t the dirty high street, but the normalcy of it.
I can’t show up somewhere with my driver, my bodyguard and my fake boyfriend and cause chaos for their business.
Luc seemingly reads my thoughts. ‘It’s okay, Sienna. It’s all arranged.’
I manoeuvre my body across the seats, ready to climb out onto the pavement. ‘Do you trust me?’ he asks, taking my hand.
I hesitate for mere seconds. Is it him I don’t trust? Or myself? The world? Most of my trust is placed in Mimi. In Jess and Rory. Kareem and Dennis. Dina, James. Mauve, even. Is there some left over for me to trust Luc, especially this quickly?
I open my mouth to speak, my hand still in his as I sit in the warmth left over from his body. ‘I’ve got you,’ he says, and it’s the way he nods his head, my eyes captured by his, that makes my body move again.
Dennis is already out of the car and standing by the door of the shop. Luc takes my hand and, as I step my heel onto the pavement, I close my eyes and hold my breath, waiting for something to happen. For the world to shift on its axis.
But barely anyone even looks in my direction.
I manage to walk from the car and into the café without a single camera flash. My stomach turns and drops, like the car at the top of Stealth rollercoaster. It’s not public enough for us to make the most of it.
‘Welcome!’ The lady behind the café’s front desk welcomes us in. ‘I’m Leanne.’
There’s cream pottery lining the walls, paint, brushes, palettes on all the tables. Something I’ve always wanted to do but never had the opportunity.
We follow Leanne to a two-person table in the back corner and hardly anyone looks up, oh-so-focused on their own projects to take notice of what’s happening around them.
Only two people look up, one man who gapes slightly, his head following me when I walk past, and a young girl who simply looks up at me and Luc and smiles.
I smile back. Dennis stands against the wall next to our table.
I hang my jacket on the back of my chair and hook the apron Leanne hands to me over my neck.
‘Have either of you been pottery painting before?’ Leanne asks.
‘I haven’t,’ Luc tells her. ‘Not sure if you have, Sie?’
I shake my head. But I’ve always wanted to, I don’t add.
‘No trouble at all. I’ll let you both get settled and then I’ll come back to explain how we work here – all pottery studios are different!’
My eyes dart around the room, trying to spot phones pointing in my direction, but everyone is quietly working on their own thing, chatting to their table-mate.
We’re tucked in a back corner, so I can’t see through the windows.
I hope my location doesn’t leak online so fans come in their troves and queue out the door.
When I first started out, I loved supporting small businesses: boutique clothing, family-run restaurants.
But my life ran away from me, and now it only causes them more trouble.
‘How did you pull this off?’ I ask.
‘I can’t tell you all my secrets.’ Luc faux gasps and gestures towards the rest of the café. ‘We’ve only just started dating.’