Chapter 10
Sunday
The prolonged delay as Rob struggles to open the door of Alexander’s hotel suite does nothing to stop the swirling mix of fear and guilt rising in my chest. My nails dig into my palms.
It’s the right thing to do.
It’s the right thing to do.
Alexander rolls his eyes at Rob’s ineptitude as I force two deep exhales out of my chest, slowing my heart rate and frustration.
“Here, let me.” Alexander pushes Rob aside, whipping out his room card.
A maid looks over at us from over her cleaning trolley, unimpressed.
The green light appears on Alex’s first tap and I feel my legs freeze at the prospect of what lies on the other side. Rob edges me forward as Alexander opens the door and enters, and I take a deep breath and walk in. Rob comes in behind me, closing the door and staying put.
“Mom? Dad? What are you doing here?”
Carla and Bruce stride toward us, Carla’s arms opening wide to squeeze Alexander tightly. She whispers something inaudible in his ear. Behind them, the rest of his team, Paul, Connie, Lucy, and the A&R guy from the record label, Nathan, all sit in the lounge.
“No, No! I’m not doing this!” Alexander turns back toward Rob and me. His eyes widen, and he pushes me aside as he confronts Rob. I stumble up against the black marble table in the entrance alcove, a shooting pain flaring up my spine.
“Let me out now!” Alexander shoves Rob, but he barely moves.
“Not this time, Alex.” Rob blocks the door to the suite.
“Move!” His face reddens when Rob stands steadfast.
“Did you know about this?” Alexander turns toward me. We stand toe-to-toe, his breath coming hot on my cheek.
My pulse quickens and I force myself back upright as I fumble for what to say.
“Did you?” Droplets of spit hit my face. Rage pours from his eyes.
Carla takes two cautious steps toward us both, laying a hand on his arm.
“Don’t take it out on Christopher, son. He’s worried about you. We all are.”
“Get off me.” He pushes her away from him.
This side of Alexander scares me. I’ve worked so hard to temper my own anger that the reminder of it in someone else makes my body recoil.
I quickly slide past his mother into the lounge, ignoring everyone else gathered on the pink suede couches and armchairs, and head over to the corner of the room. A telescope standing by the window, looking out onto Central Park, gives me something to lean on and steady myself.
“You can’t do this to me.” Alexander’s anger is turning into a plea.
His mum holds her arm tightly round Alexander as she guides him into the lounge. Paul and Connie get up from the couch, removing the zebra cushions so he and Carla can sit down. The two of them head over to my corner to grab the two remaining chairs.
“You should join us,” Paul whispers.
“I’d prefer to stay out of it.” My voice carries and Alexander turns to face me.
“I bet you would, Judas.” The words hit my chest like a forklift truck.
I want to move out onto the terrace through the glass doors as Connie and Paul rejoin everyone else, wanting to avoid being caught up in this mess. But my feet won’t cooperate. They’re frozen, stuck to the floor.
Yes, I’d gotten swept up in a scorching hot one-week stand, and sure, I’d agreed to the relationship. But nowhere in the terms and conditions did I recall this being part of any agreement. Yet here I am, still dealing with the consequences of banging a popstar.
“You need help.” Bruce leans toward Alexander.
“What I need is for all of you to leave me alone.” Alexander scans the room, no doubt trying to work out if there is any way for him to escape. I avert my gaze, looking away from his line of sight.
“You can cry, scream, even break shit if you want, but you cannot go on living like this,” Bruce continues, getting up from his armchair to sit on the table in front of Alexander. Alexander’s eyelids droop as his forehead wrinkles.
“Alex.” Carla’s hand rubs his back, soothing him as if he were an infant, in a way I could only wish my own mum would have done.
The navy-blue-and-white pinstripes on her blouse move up and down, almost sending me into a trance-like state.
“These past few months have been tough on you, no one here denies that, least of all me. But we’re concerned about the way you’ve been handling it. ”
Alexander’s head and shoulders drop. A long sniff comes from him.
“The drinking. The drug use.” Carla’s hand lifts his chin. “They’re a Band-Aid on a bullet wound.”
“They’re the only things that help.” Alexander wipes a tear from his cheek.
“But they’re not actually helping, Alex.” She moves her hand from his back to his leg. “They’re just numbing your feelings, then making things worse.”
Something in him snaps, and he rises to his feet.
“Making things worse?” he snorts. “I’ll tell you what’s making things worse.”
He points at Paul. “You micromanaging everything I do. Forcing me to keep doing stuff when I’ve said I needed a break.”
“You forcing me to stay in the closet,” he says, looking at Connie, who remains stoic, then at Lucy.
“You for thinking you can replace Samuel.” Lucy quivers in the armchair.
“And you,” he says, his gaze landing on his dad. “For forcing me to stay with David Rushton, when I pleaded with you, begged you, to not have him teach me.”
The chill in his tone sends a shiver down my spine. I’m grateful not to be part of the venom pouring from him, but I’m worried by the devolving nature of this intervention.
Nathan shoots me a look from the couch. Can you believe these people?
Sadly, I can.
“What does David have to do with all of this?” Bruce’s back is stiff.
“What does David have to do with this.” Alexander stifles a laugh.
“I’ll tell you what David has to do with all of this.
” Alexander bends down, getting right up in Bruce’s face.
“He molested me. For eighteen months. Groomed me and forced himself on me. Repeatedly. While you all let him in.” His voice cracks as he stands back up.
The room is deadly silent apart from the sound of the air conditioner coming from the vents in the wall. Stunned looks are all over everyone’s face.
“And you.” He points his finger at me. “For making me trust you. For making me open up to you.” Alexander collapses back down onto the marble table, the remote and a glass vase holding roses tumble onto the carpet as he starts to sob uncontrollably, his body convulsing.
Wait. What?
What do I have to do with David Rushton? He never told me about that.
Anger burns the back of my throat.
“You knew about David and you didn’t say anything?” Bruce’s eyes are locked on me, his face turning red, as Carla pushes the artbook off of the table and sits next to Alexander, wrapping her arm round him.
Everyone turns toward me.
I desperately long for the feel of the stress ball in my hands, which is back at the hotel room, as I struggle to contain my anger. It’s one thing to rope me into all of this, quite another to place blame at my feet.
“Whoa, hold on a minute.” I move away from the telescope toward them all.
“This is the first I’m hearing about this David guy.
Yes, Alexander may have confided in me about certain things, but I wasn’t there when all this happened.
You all were. You were the ones who let this continue.
Not me, you.” Indignation lines my lips.
I don’t know why I’m doubling down on Alexander’s point when he just attacked me, but I won’t let his dad shift the blame onto me. To make me the scapegoat even though this intervention would still be happening whether I was in the suite or not.
Alexander slowly lifts his head, and warmth returns to his eyes as they meet mine. He wipes away tears with the back of his hand.
“How dare…” Bruce starts.
“Shut up, Dad.” Alexander looks directly at me.
“Alex, I’m sorry about what David did to you,” I say. “That no one was there to help you when you needed help. But they’re all here now.” I’m unsure if I’m overplaying my hand, but no one stops me, so I continue. “They just want what’s best for you. To help you.”
“That’s why we’ve brought everyone here, including Nathan and Alfonso. To navigate this, along with your work commitments, to get you the help you need,” Paul cuts in, his eyes narrowing at me before he returns his gaze to Alexander. I’ve got it from here, he seems to be saying.
Typical, coming in only when things have simmered down.
I won’t lose any sleep if I never see him again.
“Clearly having a sponsor doesn’t work. That’s why we want you to go out to the Meadows in Arizona for a while. Get out of the spotlight, be able to work on yourself. Unpacking all of this will do you a world of good.” Paul grabs a brochure out of his pocket and slides it toward Alexander.
“But the film?”
“I’ve already spoken to Alfonso. They’ve banked most of your scenes and there’s an additional budget for pickup shoots, so we’ll do those once you get out.”
My heart rate slows as my body recognizes it’s no longer under threat. The mood in the room seems to be shifting from one of conflict to support.
“And how will we navigate all of this?” Alexander turns to Connie.
“We’ll put out a press release saying you’re taking a break to focus on your mental health.” Connie hands a sheet of paper over for Alexander to study.
“After the VMAs though, right?” A cloud of smoke leaves Nathan’s mouth as he pulls his vape pen away.
“You’re joking?” Carla swings round to face Nathan. The coldness of her tone matches the ocean-blue eyes Alexander gets from her.
Oh shit.
If things are as bad as Paul says they are, and they seem to be, surely he should be going today. Not after the VMAs on Tuesday.
Nathan, startled, looks at Paul.
“The VMAs are a great opportunity to shore up votes ahead of the Grammy nominations in November. You want to finally get your hands on one of those gramophones, don’t you?” Paul’s eyes are expectant.
“You asshole,” Carla says, helping Alexander up and storming out of the lounge into the bedroom. Bruce follows behind them.