Epilogue
“I’m beyond jealous,” Tiff tells me on the phone. “Urgh, I’m as big a fan as you are. I always have been!”
“Nah, you’re not,” I laugh. “Nighttime Whispers lives in my very soul. You come second place as a mega fan, tops.”
“Bullshit,” she laughs back. “Heath Mason lives in your very soul. Nighttime Whispers is just a bonus. A very fucking big bonus. I can’t wait to check out the pictures later. My fucking God, Ells. You’re going to be a red carpet superstar! I can’t wait to see you onscreen!”
“Neither can I,” I say, trying to hold back the nerves already bubbling away in my stomach.
Nerves rarely hit me these days, because they have no place for me now that I’m accustomed to being a public presence. Not when it comes to hitting red carpets or being seen in public.
But tonight is different.
Very, very different.
For Heath more than any of us.
Ella Edwards may be known for being an A-list London entertainer, with my face plastered all over social media at celebrity events, but this outing will be the first time I’ll ever be associated with Heath in a formal setting, there for the world to see.
It will be both me and Josh alongside him on the red carpet for the last ever season premiere of Nighttime Whispers. It speaks volumes. It screams the depth of our connection for all of the gossips in the world.
Heath Mason will be hand in hand with two notorious characters, both as eccentric and gothed up as he is. And we’re not going to hold back.
It will be extremely obvious where our hearts lie, and as the wonder of the TV show reaches its explosive end, it marks a new era for all of us.
I’m only glad that Heath will be walking the final NT red carpet with us this year, and not alone.
Heath Mason will never be alone again.
The final boxes from Belgravia arrived at Heath’s place this morning.
Sorry, our place.
The final boxes from Belgravia arrived at our place this morning.
Heath looks like the best celebrity in creation as he steps into room, fresh from makeup. They’ve styled him up as the Count for his final appearance, complete with his vampiric teeth. Boy oh boy, how I’m going to have fun with them later.
Call it a filthy goodbye to the character I binge watched for years. I’ve already told him he’d better keep some spare sets handy, for when I call on some Nighttime Whispers fun.
“Ready?” he says, and Josh and I get to our feet.
I’m in a designer mermaid tail gown covered in lace and sequins, and lashes fit for a queen. Josh is in a suit that has been tailored to perfection, and a boutique chequered bow tie in his trademark purple, matching his freshly dyed hair. He’s had a few more streaks of purple these past few months.
Call it the double goth influence of both me and Heath, I guess, but it’s working great.
“Screw whether we’re ready,” I say to our lover. “Are you ready? It’s not too late to back out of the grand reveal, you know. Just say the word and we’ll watch from the sidelines. No big deal.”
I’m lying. It would be a huge deal. But putting Heath’s emotions at the top of the tree puts that huge deal of mine to shame.
His emotions are all that matter right now. The mysterious introvert about to go public.
He looks from me to Josh and back again, and his face lights up in a vampiric smile.
“I’ve never been more ready. Fuck hiding in the shadows any longer, those days are gone. Let’s step into the spotlight where we belong.”
“Cheers to that,” Josh replies, and holds up his glass of champagne. Our first beverage of the evening.
There’s going to be a lot more to come.
Some of them warmer than others.
The knock at the door comes while we’re still on the first bottle. My pulse races at the reality of what is coming as Heath’s PA announces the driver is ready and waiting outside.
The insane number of fans and paps and photographers at the side of the red carpet will be waiting, too.
The internet will be blowing up, going wild in just a few minutes’ time.
It’s time.
Now, after months of developing our loving polyamorous lifestyle, it’s time to unveil it on the global stage.
Heath slides into the back seat of the Merc after me and Josh, and I’m sandwiched between them, warm and cosy. I squeeze Heath’s knee as the butterflies ramp up, because I can’t even imagine how things are ramping up for him. This is so at odds with the actor he’s been for over a decade.
It must be insane to be in his shoes, coming out at such a prestigious event
Heath Mason. Bisexual. Polyamorous. And in love with two notorious celebrity hookers.
What a climax to end Nighttime Whispers on.
The cameras flash like a mass of fireworks in our faces from the very moment we step out of the Merc at the glorious venue in Mayfair, but I’m not scared of them.
People shout questions, but we ignore the vast majority, standing close together as we all share a kiss for the cameras.
Heath holds both our hands in his as he ascends the stairs.
What a contrast to how life used to be.
I’m anything but a hiding, terrified girl in an Airbnb, quaking on a sofa and gorging on pizza, convinced the world would hate me for all time.
I’m proud.
I’m me.
I’m in love with the greatest men there could be, and happy to declare it to the whole goddamn universe.
Being Holly, the entertainer, living out The Naughty List, was the accomplishment that crowned me a hardcorer. But being Ella Edwards, the celebrity entertainer, proud and unashamed as the world looks on, tops the very heights of The Naughtiest List.
Right where I belong.
THE END