CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-ONE
Do you think in every world we’re dancing like this, laughing like this, do you think in every universe I found you like this? Do you think there’s a you and a me out there, not speaking, not talking because I broke your heart?
– from ‘Hello Alternative You’, by These Exiles
‘SMILE! SMILE, PATRICK!’
‘Over here – no, over here!’
‘Back a bit, left a bit, no right, my right – yeah, that’s great, smile!’
Smile.
They wanted me to smile.
My life was falling apart, I hadn’t eaten all day because every time I tried to take a bite of food it just tasted like cardboard … and they wanted me to smile.
Thankfully, Derek had been clear with me when he was hovering around as I was being pinned into this damned suit. ‘Don’t smile, Patrick.’
I’d glared at our publicist as I glanced up from my phone. I’d been typing out a lyric idea.
Call me quick, lest you slip, through my fingers
‘I’m not smiling.’
‘Not now – I mean tonight,’ said Derek, tapping away at his own phone. ‘On the red carpet.’
‘And I’m not supposed to be smiling, because –’
‘Because you are a dark and mysterious singer.’ He glanced up and took a long look at me. ‘And because we don’t want any questions about you and Jessy. If you smile, the journos will think they can get a scoop from you. Channel your best pissed-off energy.’
My snort echoed around the hotel room Derek had booked for me and the stylist. Channelling my best pissed-off look? That wouldn’t be hard. I’d been in a constant state of being pissed off recently.
‘Yes, something like that.’ Derek pointed at my face before looking back down at his phone and taking a seat in the armchair behind the mirror I had been instructed to stand by. ‘Look, you’re all over the news and the socials, and that’s good. You know, all PR is good PR.’
Good? The woman I’d thought I loved was cheating on me, and that was good?
‘But we don’t want to be answering questions about Jessy, not this close to the Songwriter Awards. Everything from here on out has to be about you and the boys.’
‘I understand,’ I said in a monotone voice. And I really did. It wasn’t like I wanted to talk about Jessy, anyway. Not to anyone, but least of all the media.
Derek must have sensed something in my tone, because I looked up to see him staring at me, concern on his face. ‘You OK, man?’
‘I’m fine,’ I tried to reassure him, but I knew I wasn’t convincing anyone.
‘It’s just, you seem –’
‘Seriously, Derek. I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me.’ I didn’t sound fine. Anyone who knew me would be able to tell I wasn’t fine.
I’d blocked Jessy after I’d stormed out of her house, and even gone as far as to delete Butterflies as soon as I got back to my flat. I just wanted to forget that she even existed.
Turned out that was easier said than done.
I looked away from Derek’s eyes, not wanting to see the truth in them. That I was the furthest thing from being OK.
He finally got the hint. ‘All right, if you say so.’ And he left it at that.
I stared at my reflection, unable to meet my own eye, and pulled my phone from my pocket to check the group chat with the boys.
Matt
I never saw it coming – you OK, Patrick?
Wes
We’ll grab drinks when we’re all back, you’re not alone in this
Ben
Fuck her
The flicker of a smile flitted across my lips. No matter what happened, I could always count on my friends to be on my side. It would be so good to have them back here.
That was an hour ago. Now I was standing here on the red carpet of a film premiere, hating every second of it, blinded by all the cameras.
‘Patrick, have you spoken to Jessy?’
‘Has Jessy given you an explanation for what she was doing with –’
‘Patrick, is it true you and your mother –’
I couldn’t do this. I didn’t remember it being this bad when Celine had cheated on me, but maybe that had been because she’d given her own little interviews. I gritted my teeth and focused hard on not smiling, which, unsurprisingly, was pretty easy.
Part of me felt as though I was never going to smile again.
More flashes of light went off and I tried not to blink, eyes watering. Were there seriously people who enjoyed this?
I couldn’t think of anything worse.
‘Move along now, thank you,’ one of the ushers muttered, pulling me aside to stand on another marker, where a whole new set of photographers and journalists was waiting for me.
Great.
‘Patrick! Over here!’
‘Look here, Patrick – smile!’
I was going to kill Derek. All I had wanted to do was hide away in my flat and wait for the guys to come back. Without them here, I was so damned … exposed.
Vulnerable.
Naked.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had to do a red carpet, or any proper event, without them. Wes, Ben, Matt – they were always beside me, a buffer between me and the paparazzi who were determined to ‘get something’.
On my own, this whole thing was a nightmare. My chest felt tight, and I couldn’t take anything but quick, shallow breaths. My fingers were tingling as they hung awkwardly by my sides, and there was a lump the size of a fist in my throat that made swallowing difficult.
‘Where’s Jessy?’ yelled a journalist who I recognized. I was pretty sure we’d done an interview with her last year, before our last album dropped. ‘Where’s your girlfriend, Patrick?’
Great question.
A part of me, and I hated that it even existed, had hoped …
well, that she’d be here. It was impossible.
Derek would never have allowed it. But we’d talked about attending this premiere together what felt like years ago.
Back then, I had been looking forward to having her on my arm. Of flaunting her in front of the world.
That was when I’d believed there was something real between us.
Now … now I knew what she really was.
I turned my back on the media without a word. If they wanted to know where Jessy was, they should go hound her. Besides, it wasn’t like I had a clue.
‘And if you’d just wait over here, Mr Tetlow.’ The usher was pointing to a covered area just around the corner that was, thankfully, away from the cameras.
I walked away from the yelling photographers, journalists, influencers – the whole bear pit of them – and reached my sanctuary. It appeared to be some sort of waiting zone, and I recognized a few of the faces hanging around.
I nodded politely at the ones I knew and walked past the ones I didn’t, before finding myself a solitary spot to stand in. I had walked the red carpet just like I’d been told. As far as I was concerned, my job here was done.
Slipping my phone out of my pocket, I dialled the last number in my call log.
Derek picked up immediately. ‘I was watching you live, you looked great!’
‘Thanks,’ I replied, half-heartedly.
‘No smiling, excellent job.’
‘Yeah, thanks.’ I took in a deep breath. ‘Can I go home now?’
I’d known what the answer would be before I even asked, but there was still a flash of disappointment as I heard our PR manager’s answer.
‘Absolutely not – they’re going to want your reaction after the film,’ he said resolutely.
I groaned, loud enough for some of the models standing near me to look over. I turned away quickly.
Fuck. I don’t want to be here. ‘I’m serious, Derek, I’d rather just leave –’
‘And I’d rather just have clients who do what they’re told.
’ Even through the phone, I could hear the acerbic grin on his face.
‘Look, this is important. Until Wes finishes at the UN and Ben … well, the less said about Ben, the better. Until the gang is back together for the Songwriter Awards, this is the last public appearance for These Exiles.’
I looked down at the ridiculous green suit the stylist had put me in. ‘I’m only one quarter of These Exiles.’
‘So perhaps I should make you stay four times the –’
‘Yeah, good luck with that.’ There was no chance I was going to stay a second longer than I needed to.
‘Look, Patrick,’ Derek said, ‘it’s the last public event before the awards show, and I just need you to put your best foot forward. It’s only for one more night. You’ll have the boys back soon.’ He paused. ‘Have you spoken to Jessy yet?’
That familiar pain lanced through me.
‘You know I haven’t. I told you I’d blocked her. Besides, why do you even want me to speak to her?’
Derek sighed down the phone. ‘Look, I’m not saying you should trust her blindly, or even that what was reported wasn’t true.
But I’m not convinced everything in that article was accurate.
You know these gossip sites like to make things more …
salacious.’ He took a breath before he continued.
‘I didn’t send those links to you because I thought Jessy was actually cheating on you.
I sent them because the optics were bad, and I wanted you to know what had happened before you were ambushed by it.
I … I never expected it to spiral into this. ’
The this in question was the Cold War approach I had adopted. I hadn’t had any contact with Jessy since our argument. I’d had Derek’s assistant deliver Jessy’s things to her apartment. I had done everything humanly possible to avoid her.
Since her betrayal.
‘It doesn’t matter, Derek, because it’s over.
’ Too much had happened. Cassie, Ross, the other men.
It was all too much. ‘It’s over.’ I repeated, voice unsteady.
If nothing else, I had learnt Jessy couldn’t handle fame.
Couldn’t handle the pressure and the expectations that came with it.
That came with being in a relationship with me.
‘Your call, Patrick. Let me know when you’re out of the premiere and we can talk strategy for –’
‘Yeah, fine,’ I muttered.
As I wrapped up the phone call with Derek, I saw someone approach me from the corner of my eye. I hoped that if I kept my head down they would get the message. But a moment later, I felt a tap on my shoulder.
‘Hey, Patrick! It’s Patrick, right?’
I grimaced and replied without looking up. ‘Yeah, that’s me.’