Chapter 6
Ymarferion - Rehearsals
Lucy
The heavens open as soon as Rhys edges the car off the drive and onto the road.
Which is great news because I bought a new raincoat to bring to Wales, after Felicity warned me the country is one of the wettest places to live.
I’m about to tell Rhys this, when I spot how hard he’s concentrating on the road.
He’s frowning at it like the concrete personally wronged him.
So instead, I check Cai’s diary to find out where we’re heading, since Rhys isn’t exactly forthcoming. Fifteen minutes away. Perfect. He and I might have gotten off on the wrong foot, but I have more than enough time to fix it. I’ve never struggled to make friends.
I pivot in my seat, turning my knees towards him. Body language is everything.
‘Do rehearsals always start this early?’ Cai left the house before I arrived. Topaz didn’t get out of bed until at least midday.
Rhys stares ahead. The rhythmic swish swoosh of the windscreen wipers is the only reply.
I try again. ‘How long does he usually rehearse for?’
The leather creaks as he tightens his grip on his steering wheel.
‘Is it a full band rehearsal today, or dance? Just so I know what to expect.’ Cai’s diary tells me exactly what it is – band rehearsal, no choreographer in attendance – but I don’t know what else to probe Rhys with. Cai’s the only thing we have in common, and I have to start somewhere with him.
Rhys grunts at me this time. Progress. His gaze flits to my lap then back to the road. Right. Check your phone, you bint, and stop asking me weird questions.
I watch him drive. He frowns harder. I’m about to ask how many he has on his crew, something my phone can’t tell me, but he indicates left and pulls through a set of rusting red gates.
The car park is empty, but he rolls up to the entrance, stopping the car on the double-yellow lines.
Car into park, key scooped up from the console, and he’s out of the vehicle before I’ve clicked off my seatbelt.
‘Are we allowed to stop here?’ I ask as I climb out of the car, ducking my head against the rain. The last thing I want is for him to get a parking ticket. An umbrella appears, as if from nowhere, accompanied by another grunt, but before I can thank him, he strides away.
I hurry after him towards the yellow-brick community center, avoiding the puddles.
The electric doors open, revealing grey-lined carpet and a receptionist sitting behind a Formica desk.
I give her a quick wave, now-closed umbrella in hand, and trot along the corridor Rhys disappeared down.
It’s rude to not introduce myself, but I don’t have time with his best efforts to lose me.
I’ll have to come and say hi once I’m settled.
Cai’s music grows louder the closer I get to a set of blue battered wooden doors.
Holding rehearsals in a community center is a strange choice.
Most stars own or hire a purpose-built warehouse, usually tucked into an industrial estate, but maybe this is the done thing in Wales.
I’ll ask Gethin later. I pass by posters that tell me about the senior citizen exercises class, the Guide troops that meet here in the evenings, the after school clubs.
Not exactly ideal for discrete practice, or getting Cai in and out of the place without anyone else noticing.
Rhys bursts through the blue doors, and I scuffle in a second after him. The music stops.
‘Lucy?’ Cai’s already lifting his guitar over his head and passing it to a short, blond man. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘She’s the new PA,’ Rhys says as if declaring that Wales has gone to war with England.
‘No fucking way? I’m honoured.’ Cai loops an arm over my shoulder, pulling me into his slightly sweaty warmth, and despite the smell, I can’t stop my smile. ‘Let me show you around.’
Topaz would have made someone else do it, but Cai leads me around the room as if I’m the Queen.
As if I’m the most important person here, not him.
I meet the sound engineers, who lift their hands in a wave while rebalancing Cai’s microphone; Colin, the guitar guy who’s busy retuning Cai’s acoustic to the stand; the tour manager – Hywel (A) – who’s discussing staging with another Hywel (B).
They finish their chat then Hywel A claps his hands together. ‘Okay, back to it everyone.’
‘We’ve got a break soon,’ Cai tells me, leading me to a circle of squishy chairs next to the refreshment table.
It’s already full of staff, including Rhys, but there’s an empty seat for me.
As soon as my left butt cheek hits the cushion, the bodyguard gets to his feet, muttering under his breath as he moves to lean against the furthest wall, head buried in his phone.
‘Grumpy bastard,’ Cai says. ‘Ignore him. Always in a mood. I’ll come chat when we’re on our next break.’
I watch him go then dig my phone out of my bag to film B-roll ready for this week’s reels.
Practice starts again, with Cai strumming the introduction to the next song.
I should be all eyes on him, but with my camera pointing the right way, my gaze drifts to Rhys.
He’s not paying attention to the rehearsal – has probably heard it over and over now – and he’s sucked into his phone.
He is listening, though. His left pointer finger taps in time with the drums. I must stare a little too hard, because he eventually unsticks himself from his phone.
His gaze connects with mine. He scowls and turns his back to me.
No point in offering him a coffee then.
I push his snub away. Bad moods are contagious, and I refuse to catch one. If I stay light, if I stay easy, eventually he’ll have to meet me there.
I channel all my focus onto Cai instead, making notes on his set list, what he needs when he’s performing, and the hour flies by.
Hywel B eventually calls for a break. Rhys pushes off from the wall, taking a step towards Cai, but the pop star makes a beeline for me instead of going to Rhys.
I pass Cai a towel and his refilled bottle, and he treats both like I’ve gifted him gold.
The wooden doors swing shut, and Rhys disappears.
‘Whatya think of the show?’ Cai asks once he’s drained half his bottle and plonked himself down. He ignores his best friend walking out, so I do too.
I settle next to him. ‘It’s so good.’ It’s not a lie; Cai’s my most played artist, and seeing him live is a privilege. ‘It’s going to be amazing in the stadium. I’m excited to watch it, if I get the chance. Concert days are usually super busy—’
‘Doing what?’ he asks, head tilted to the side. ‘If I’m on stage, you’re free to do whatever you want.’
I rarely got a break with Topaz. There were always a million other things to do.
Cai scoffs when I don’t reply. ‘He’s still a slave driver?’
‘He kept us busy, but it’s fine,’ I say. I can think what I want about him, but out loud? I would never. Word might get back to him.
‘Uh-huh. Sure.’ He eyes me for a moment, as if waiting for something to slip. But it doesn’t. I keep a smile on my face and my attention fully on him. I’m here to look after him now, not Topaz. ‘So is there anything you want to ask me while you’ve got me?’
A million questions flood my mouth, but I temper my curiosity a little so I don’t scare him off. Instead, I rack through the long list of what I need to find out, what I want to know about him, to find the most important.
‘My first job is to revive your social media,’ I tell him, ‘and you need a new profile picture. Gethin sent over a load of headshots and I’ve narrowed the choices down to two, but…’
They’re too engineered, too false, but I don’t know Cai well enough to know how to word it. One wrong word and our growing bond could snap.
He takes my mobile and thumbs through the pictures, grimacing. ‘I hate photoshoots. This manufactured magazine-look isn’t me. Here’ — he passes the phone to me then drags his hand through his sweaty dark fringe, fluffing it up — ‘take one now.’
‘Are you sure? You’re not exactly looking your…’ …best? …sexiest? How to tell him without offending. Red blotches cover his face, making him look like he’s got a weird infection, and his lips are dry. I must make sure he gets more water.
‘You can say I’m a sweaty mess, Lucy. You’re not going to hurt my feelings.’
‘Perhaps if you put on some lip balm, brushed your hair a little.’ I start to search in my bag, but he loops his fingers around my wrist to stop me.
‘This is perfect. Do it.’ He strikes a pose.
I take a few snaps, at least trying to get the angle right so the ghastly strip lighting doesn’t wash him out.
He reviews the pictures. ‘You’re a pro. This one will do.’
Well, it’s a lot more natural and that’s what I was looking for.
I upload it to his app then set it as the profile picture.
‘Perfect! I’m going to post some behind-the-scenes footage, and a series of get-to-know-you carousels to ease your account into the madness.
You get to vet anything I post before it goes up. ’
‘Nah. I trust you. I take it Gethin gave you a list of what I’m happy to share?’
‘Yeah. There’s a binder full of information on it.’
‘Then you don’t need me to approve anything.’
I straighten in my seat, beaming. I wasn’t allowed anywhere near Topaz’s accounts, and Cai’s handed me unfettered access to his followers. Of course, I still have to go through Gethin – he set the rules for a reason – but it’s great to get Cai on side so early on.
‘Anything else before I go back?’ he asks, draining his bottle then putting it on the table.
‘I have some ideas for some extra events for you. Gethin’s already booked the usual press conferences, but all that’s in your diary is those and rehearsals. But we can talk about it later.’