Chapter 2
NEVER THOUGHT OF THAT
Mimi, my manager, and Jess are already in the dressing room by the time Dennis, Luc and I arrive.
Mimi is on the sofa while Jess is on the other side of the room, leaning against the wall.
Each has a cup of tea clutched in their hands.
There are notebooks strewn across the table in the middle, pieces of paper charting our game plan for tonight and going forward.
Crisis talks.
Great.
‘You’re late.’
I thought Mimi would be angry, but from her face she simply looks shocked, if slightly bemused.
‘Oh, it’s fine. Only by about ten minutes,’ Luc says.
‘She’s never late. She’s usually here before I am!’ Mimi shakes her head, but she’s still smiling. ‘Hello again, Luc. It’s lovely to see you. Where did you come from?’
‘Hello, Mimi. Runner’s off sick. I was already in the lobby so I offered to bring her up.’ He gives Mimi a smile, but he still doesn’t look at me. Not properly.
Luc shakes Dennis’s hand one more time before he disappears and I hear the main corridor door shut behind him.
‘Why are you standing on one leg?’ I frown at Jess, who has her right foot pressed against her left inner thigh.
Mauve walks in the room and drops herself down on the sofa with a dramatic flourish.
Jess drops her leg and flushes. ‘You know me.’
Mauve tuts, shaking her head. ‘I knew it was a bad idea hiring your best friend.’
Actually, it was the best idea I’ve ever had.
‘How’s your throat?’ Jess asks.
I shrug. ‘Still kind of not great,’ I say noncommittally. How long does it need to be before I start fearing for my career, whether because of my throat or the Benji situation?
‘I’ll make you a honey and lemon,’ Jess says, pulling me gently towards her and wrapping an arm around my shoulder.
I breathe in her familiar floral scent, the one she has worn since we were kids and refuses to change because it’s her ‘signature’.
When her mum started floating ideas of her choosing something different, more sophisticated, Jess took offence.
And so she should – this scent is Jess. It’s home.
And, right now, being enveloped in roses and lavender is exactly what I need.
Emotion wells inside me, swirling like a tornado I struggle to get under control.
I don’t know how there are still tears left in me after all these years.
After all the death.
I can’t escape it. My dad, Grampy, Nana… My cousin when he was just sixteen years old. My aunt, when I was eight. My uncle, mere months ago.
The fan who died while I was touring Sweethearts Inside at Night at a venue with a stupid water policy.
The other fan, stabbed moments after I finished the final song on his way out of the stadium with his girlfriend.
If we hadn’t been locked inside for the whole of 2020, the future of touring threatened, I’m not sure I would have released my next album.
Songwriting and recording were an outlet for me during such a scary time and not knowing whether I’d ever be able to perform live again. Well… it took the pressure off.
I pull away, brushing off her arm and affection before I cry. Again. I take a long sip of water from the bottle I took from Kareem’s car.
‘You okay, chicken pie?’ Jess asks.
I dip my chin. Am I okay? I’ve done this enough times to know that I will be. Eventually.
‘Right, we need to go through the game plan for tonight, first,’ Mimi jumps in.
‘I’ve told Eric that he’s not allowed to ask you about the…
situation last night, and I’m lobbying Benji’s agent to make a statement or at the very least plant a story from their side in the papers about how Benji isn’t with his wife – and hasn’t been for a while – and there’s nothing wrong with a bit of fun. ’ Jess rolls her eyes.
‘It’s about time Benji and Caro finally tell their fans what literally the entire industry knows,’ Mimi comments.
Jess nods furiously. ‘Obviously that would be a statement for his image, not yours. And you’re the woman here…’ She pulls her hair up off her neck. ‘But a statement from him will allow us a bit more freedom with ours.’
‘I can’t– I don’t understand where it’s come from,’ I point out. ‘I thought everyone knew they weren’t together. They don’t live together and haven’t been pictured with each other in over a year.’
‘I think because they’ve never said it themselves, people still have hope.’ Mimi shakes her head.
The world has decided I’m the villain as the woman normally is in this industry. That I’ve broken up one of the world’s most beloved celebrity couples, like they didn’t break themselves up all on their own years ago. And Benji is seeing absolutely no such similar reaction.
‘What happened to Xavier?’ Mimi asks gently.
I have to think for a moment, my brain churning to try to work out who she means, before remembering. ‘Oh, we don’t speak anymore.’
‘Oh, I liked him. What happened there?’ Mimi asks.
Jess hands me a cup of honey and lemon tea.
‘He was very…’ I try to look for the right word, blowing on the beverage.
Something that isn’t insulting but also gives the entire impression of what Xavier is like.
He’s an actor, had his big break starring in a few ITV crime dramas before moving on to a bigger budget Netflix original series.
As far as I’m aware, he’s recently been cast in a big Hollywood blockbuster movie that’s tipped to win big at the Oscars – a movie about cancel culture.
It’s very… up his street. ‘Intense,’ I finish.
Dennis and Jess titter in the corner of the room.
‘What’s funny?’ I ask, taking a sip of my tea.
‘Xavier wasn’t intense,’ Jess laughs, lifting her foot so she’s standing on one leg again. ‘He was so laid back he might as well have been horizontal.’
‘Sienna needs someone who literally never wants to see her,’ Dennis laughs.
‘Why do you have to keep acting like this, Sienna?’ Mauve questions.
‘I should be able to do what I want,’ I say grumpily, and I hate the way it makes me sound like a child.
‘You can, Sie, but you need to understand that people aren’t going to, I guess, forgive you as quickly… as they did when you were younger for this… hedonistic lifestyle.’
Mimi’s words seem to take all the air out of the room.
I know she’s right – I’ve seen it in the papers and on my tiny phone screen.
Horrible words which hurt because they’re true.
I do live the life of a young male bachelor.
But maybe my days of living my life album-to-album, tour-to-tour, man-to-man need to come to an end.
I need to find my anchor.
The images of Luc calling and me not answering time and time again from ten years ago take up whatever small amount of space is left in my brain. He’s the only person in my life who isn’t my family or on my team. Someone I can’t seem to let go of no matter how hard I try.
‘We’ll figure this out, Sienna,’ Mimi reassures.
My full name. A name that over the years has come to feel like a stage name, like a persona and less like who I really am.
When I released my first album, I was asked whether I wanted to use a stage name, but I didn’t understand why I would.
I thought they were for people who didn’t like their name, or who didn’t think their name was catchy enough.
Or there was someone releasing music or films under a similar, if not the same, name.
But, really, it gives you separation. A day off from it all.
A day where someone like Lucie Louise can be Lucille Adkins again.
It’s the music industry equivalent of taking your uniform off after a long day.
It always seemed pointless to me, anyway. Their government name always lands on Wikipedia faster than the release of their second single.
I have a deep urge to tether myself, to sit on the dressing room floor, but can’t risk dust transferring onto the Versace.
‘Sienna!’ Mauve is loud, desperate, like she’s running out of air. She shouts like she’s trying to make her voice reach the other side of London, rather than five feet across the room. Even Mimi flinches. ‘We need to finish the plan.’
Like it’s her job.
‘So, my plan is basically to avoid any questions about my love life tonight?’
‘Firstly, you don’t have a love life,’ Mimi points out, which is harsh…
but fair. ‘And, secondly, Eric is banned from asking you about anything other than the album and he’s normally pretty good so you should be fine to just be yourself…
But please ham up the “I’m so innocent, I’ve been in the public eye for most of my life” act. ’
An interview where I don’t get asked about the men I’m dating? That’ll be a first.
It’s only half an hour later when I’m brought back into the studio. I’m told to stand outside a door with Dennis, ready for when Eric introduces me as the final guest.
Dennis gestures for me to spin around and then brushes off any dust leaning on the wall has left on the back of my dress.
The audience are all in the studio, enjoying Zara’s first interview after her second album broke the internet the minute it came out.
The first time I was on Eric’s show, I was standing here trying to guess what the audience would think when I walked out.
I thought they’d wonder who I was or why I deserved to be interviewed by Eric Lancaster when I hadn’t won any Grammys or Brit Awards, even though I’d never think that about someone else.
The imposter syndrome of being a woman in the industry, let alone a woman from a council estate.
Of needing to prove yourself to everyone you ever meet, and even those you don’t.