Before He Was Famous: HotFlush Book 1

by Becky Wicks

  What? 'Madeline, you've got it all wrong...' I'm shifting in my seat now. Can I just go to bed? I don't want to hear this.

  'Listen.' She puts her mug down, just as Noah's footsteps in the hall make her lower her voice. She leans into me over the table. 'You love him. I see it in your eyes.'

  'No I don't.'

  'Yes you do. But he's a man, Chloe, he needs to be told! He's one of the good guys. He doesn't want to mess this up, so he'll wait until you make the move.'

  I shake my head. 'We're just friends, we've always been friends, Madeline...'

  'And love is just friendship with wings, isn't that what they say?' she cuts in, reaching out to tap the Tinker-Bell around my neck. 'You never used to bicker. You never used to fight. You're holding too much of this... this passion inside you! You're not children anymore. Why don't you just explore it? Or have you already?' She raises a white eyebrow and I look away, feeling my cheeks turn a shade of lobster.

  'Mads, with all due respect, things are different now. Plus, he's a frickin' celebrity...'

  'Excuses, excuses,' she tuts. 'I've played that game; fame makes you no less human, Chloe. Fame chases old friends away at the same time as it sends total strangers flocking towards you. He needs you to be you; to love him like you always have.'

  'I don't know if I can,' I admit, defeated. I can feel the lump forming in my throat, the stinging in my eyes.

  'Of course you can. My darling, this life is for living. Look at me, look how old I am, how many years do I have left? God only knows! If I could go back I'd have never walked away from love...' She retracts her hand from mine, leans back in her chair.

  'What happened?' I ask, composing myself. I realize I'm shaking with adrenaline. I think I just admitted something I've never admitted to anyone. 'You've been in love? Really, madly in love?'

  'My child, I've had many mad loves,’ she replies. ‘Mine were all sparks and firecrackers... except one,' she pauses. 'There was a slow one; the one that crept into my corners and just plain refused to wash away.'

  Madeline gazes into nothing across the table and takes off her glasses to rub her eyes.

  'He fought for me for almost two years. Can you believe that?' She slaps the table with her palm. 'I pushed him away but my goodness, he was crazy... he was so insistent, like the ocean waves on the beach! He just kept coming back, and coming back, and coming back.'

  'What happened?'

  'I pushed him away too many times,' she says. 'He wanted to marry me and I got scared. I got scared I'd be trapped, that I'd have to settle down and have his children and be a good wife, you know? I was too wild, Chloe. Too free!' She gestures around at the photos on the walls of herself on yachts and camels and horses, hugging James Dean in her sequined Rockette's dress and silver high heels.

  'So maybe you were right to let him go?' I say.

  'No. Goodness, no. He married someone else and I was broken! You should've seen me. I went to him, told him how sorry I was. I begged for forgiveness but it was too late. His wife was pregnant. He was too good a man to leave her and I never loved anyone the way I loved him.'

  She places her glasses back on her nose, studying me seriously. 'I see it in Noah, the way he looks at you. Chloe, I've seen that look in a man's eyes. It's more than desire for your body. It's the secret world you've built together in spite of all of this - that's what he can't lose. You're his normality. You're a part of him, and he is a part of you. That's what makes this frightening, but that's what makes it right.'

  I can't help it now, I'm biting my cheeks, holding my breath to stop from crying. She hit a nerve. Actually, she pretty much battered it black and blue. I feel my chin wobble and I cover my face as Madeline walks over, places a hand on my shoulder, brushes back my bangs. 'I'm sorry,' she says, but I shake my head, squeeze her hand.

  No one's ever sat me down and hammered this into me before. No one's ever laid it all bare, exactly what I could lose, because no one knows what we did. But he's my best friend. I sent him away four years ago to keep us safe, not just because I felt guilty.

  That night my dad died I sobbed and sobbed as he did the same into my hair, my skin, my mouth and that was the first time in my life I think I really ever, truly appreciated Noah; not just as my friend and a guy I'd just made crazy, passionate love to, but as a necessity in my world. In that moment he was everything I had and could never lose; my sun, my moon, my star, a rock, a chest in which I could store every single secret and trust implicitly with the key.

  'I can't lose him,' I say.

  'Chloe, my darling girl, how can you lose what you've never had?' she replies.

  'Is everything OK?'

  I spring up, swipe at my face where the tears have broken free. The sound of his voice makes my heart shift into top gear but when I see him, I just see him and Courtney. I see them pressed together in the club and it burns. I already lost him anyway, didn't I? The decision's already been made.

  'Are you crying?' Noah asks.

  'I'm fine,' I say, standing up, pulling down the shirt. 'It's just... those notes you know? I need to sleep.'

  'Can I do anything?'

  'You have to be the ocean, Noah,' I hear Madeline tell him sternly as I walk barefoot to the door. 'You have to fight to stay on the shore, no matter how many times it pushes you away.'

  34

  Noah

  It's five a.m. Chloe's cell won't stop making noises. I didn't even know she'd turned it back on. She's lying next to me, face to the wall in the big old bed that used to seem way bigger than it does now. We both fell asleep without speaking, till now.

  Sleeping next to her makes the night feel like fucking purgatory. I see her spinning in the rain, laughing and then yelling at me, bitching about me to Madeline. I see her with Zayne and I see how I can't even touch her.

  The iPhone beeps again. Annoyed I climb out of bed and pick it up. Nine missed calls from the Commander and four from Jack. Plus a few from Denzel. My stomach lurches. I fish for my own cell in my pocket, turn it on quickly. Fourteen missed calls from Denzel, eight from Jack and seven from the Commander.

  What the fuck?

  I walk out of the bedroom, creep down to the kitchen and close the door behind me. I don't even bother with my voicemail messages; I just call Jack.

  'What's wrong?' I say as soon as he picks up.

  'Noah, where the hell have you been, man, everyone’s looking for you!'

  'Jack, I've only had my phone off for...'

  'Listen. There was some fucked up shit sent to Chloe's house tonight. The cops are on the case but the Commander's been freaking out. Is she with you?'

  I sit down heavily on a chair. 'What happened?'

  'Noah, is Chloe with you? Is she OK?'

  'She's with me, she's fine, yes. What's going on?' My throat is dry. I get up, run the tap, fill a glass and knock it back.

  'There were more notes, bro. One was sent to HotFlush with some kind of screwed up voodoo doll thing. Some intern opened it - he said it looked weird. It said Chloe Campbell, you will die.'

  'You're kidding me!'

  'The Commander got another one at the house! Another doll with some chick's actual hair stuck onto the head! How creepy is that? She lost her shit -- she called the cops and someone else told the press! She didn't know about the others?'

  'No!' I say. 'Course she didn't know, you know she would've wanted Chloe home if she knew that! Dammit, Jack!'

  'Well, she does want her home! And Twitter's gone crazy with all the psycho stalker shit. People are saying you've gone AWOL 'cause neither you or Chloe have responded! One blog is saying you've been abducted.'

  'Jack, it's been, like, a matter of hours!'

  'Sophia called Denzel and they're sending Chloe back here, did you get the message?'

  'They can't do that!' I tell him too loudly, clutching the cool glass so hard I think for a second it might smash. I slam it down. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  'Denzel's worried she won't be safe on the tour anymore. We
all are. Man, you really need to keep your cellphone on. You're a fucking celebrity; people lose their shit if they don't know where you are, especially with all this...'

  'OK, OK. Sorry, I'm sorry,' I say. My palms are sweating. 'Look, I gotta go, I think Denzel's calling me.'

  'Look after Chloe,' he replies bluntly and hangs up. My heart is thumping in my ears as I answer to Denzel.

  'Where the sodding hell have you been, Lockton?' he fumes in my ear. 'Listen, there's been some...'

  'I know about the dolls,' I say, trying to keep my voice down. 'And the fucking hair... Jesus. Why’re you flying Chloe back to Colorado?'

  'Her mom booked the flight, not me. It's probably the best thing for now - we don't want any more crazy shit going down on this tour. This is hard enough to keep quiet as it is. It's all over the fucking place! Now, listen...'

  'I thought all publicity was good publicity?' I cut in, clenching my fist into my hair. 'Isn't that what you said?'

  'Believe it or not, I want Chloe safe,' he snaps back. 'And you have to focus. I don't know what the hell's been going on with you two but disappearing and ignoring your calls -- not cool. You have responsibilities, Lockton. People are investing in you, you're a fucking star, you have an image to maintain. There's a photo up on TMZ - you and Chloe snuggling up in Central Park a day after you were seen with Courtney. What do you think you're doing?'

  I can't respond. I'm chewing on the inside of my mouth, wanting to punch something the more he talks. He doesn't give a shit about Chloe, or me, no matter what he says. He's got dollar signs in his eyes and I'm a fucking ATM.

  'You can't be seen with two girls, Lockton...'

  'I thought you said I could see as many as I wanted!'

  'Look. Courtney's on your label! The more time you spend with her right now the more they're gonna invest in you. I thought we had this clear. You both need it, you like each other, don't you? It's win-win. You need to stay in the headlines for the good shit now anyway, none of this stalker bollocks. Your fans will support you both...'

  'This is stupid, Denzel.'

  'This is business. You started it with your little stunt in Mangroves, mate. I don't know what you're complaining about.'

  I'm gripping my cell so hard but I inhale, count to five in my head. If I say what's really going through my head right now, I'll regret it.

  'Noah...'

  Fight it. Just fight it.

  'I'm sorry, you're right,' I force myself to reply. 'Chloe should go home. It's the best thing for all of us.'

  'Good,' he snaps. 'Don't be a fuck up, Lockton. And it is the best thing. Tampa got back about the freak in the stadium seat. That seat was allocated to a media comp... it was a freebie for a staff member at Shimmer who never went, some bloke called Aaron?'

  'Aaron?' I say, wracking my brains. 'Wasn't that Chloe's photographer guy?'

  'Never heard of him. But he wasn't there anyway -- we invite Shimmer to every gig 'cause of the blog but they always give their tickets away to their mates, or sell them, fuck knows, you know what the media's like. The chick you saw must have got hold of his somehow. Anyway, the Old Bill are doing their bit and we have to do ours. If Chloe's home, her family can watch out for her, which is more than we can do filling stadiums every night with strangers.'

  'I appreciate that, but...'

  'Forget it. You have a tour to do, Lockton. Focus. Don't say a word to anyone, except Courtney, for fuck's sake. I need a couple of hours' kip, you're killing me. I'll see you soon.'

  He ends the call and I lean against the counter on my palms, breathing in and out slowly. He never listens; no one does in this business. I'm surrounded by people screaming at me every second of every day but I swear to God, I've never felt so ignored in my damn life.

  Dawn is breaking through the window. Madeline's mug is still on the table and her words come back to me about having to be the ocean. I have no clue what the hell that meant but I definitely feel like I could drown. I make my way back up the stairs. When I walk back into the spare room Chloe stirs.

  'Noah?'

  I climb back under the patchwork quilt, lie on my back, try not to roll into the heat of her. It's so damn hard not to wrap my entire body around her and never let go. But I have to let her go, don't I? Not just because of the whole Courtney thing, but because I'm totally screwing up her life. I can't have Chloe and all of this. The two don't mix, it's obvious; our relationship, my fame. It doesn't matter how I feel - I can't keep pretending we're the same. It's the most selfish thing I could possibly do. We're like two landmasses floating in opposite directions and we probably have been since that night; that night she doesn't ever want to fucking talk about.

  'We can't do this anymore, Pan.' I say, hearing my own voice crack.

  'What do you mean?' She sits up slowly, frowning at me with sleepy eyes.

  'Your mom had another death note at your house; some sick package with a doll... I don't know. She told the press, she booked a flight for you to Denver...'

  'What?' She's shaking her head at me in disbelief, flying off the bed in her shirt, long hair flailing, grabbing for her cell. She stands there looking from the missed calls to me. 'What the...'

  'Chloe, it's best if you go home,' I say.

  'No, Noah, don't be ridiculous, I'm not going home!'

  'Your flight's booked for tomorrow.'

  'Then I'll un-book it!'

  'Ssssh,' I hiss, motioning around the room, 'you'll wake Madeline. It's safer for you there, Chloe. It's just for a few weeks.'

  She's clutching Tinker-Bell so hard you'd think she was going to fly away. I can see her jaw pulsing. 'I don't want safe,' she says, slamming her cell back down and walking to my side of the bed. 'I don't want just a few weeks anywhere. I don't want anyone to baby me! What the hell gives you all the right to make decisions for me? I'm not a child!'

  'Chloe, there's a fucking psycho out there...'

  'This whole industry is full of psychos! I've let everyone control everything I've done since you won that competition! You asked me to come with you and like an idiot I did it! I've been running around like your own private fucking note taker this whole time, and now you just want me to go? Is this how you treat your friends, now? Now that you're the famous Noah Lockton?'

  'It's not my decision, Chloe. Your mom booked your flight and Denzel...'

  'Screw Denzel! You go along with everything he says!'

  'He's my manager!'

  'So what? I don't give a crap if he's Jesus Christ, you never do anything for yourself anymore! You obey every fucking rule they make, Noah. You're as bad as all of them! You're turning into a fame whore.'

  'That's not fair, Chloe...' I start, but I stop. I have to stop. I have to let her go. If I don't let her go something worse might happen to her, to us. 'The Commander's scared for you.' I say instead.

  'Of course she is, Noah, but this isn't about my mom, is it?' Her eyes are raging as she bunches and un-bunches the bottom of her shirt, blinking back tears. 'I should've known this would happen. I'm such an idiot. You are an asshole.'

  Her words hit me like bombs. She walks round towards the door just as Madeline opens it, looking stunned in her nightgown. 'What on earth is happening to you two?' she cries.

  'No man is an ocean,' Chloe replies vehemently. 'Trust me Madeline, none of them. And why would you want one to be anyway? The only the thing the ocean does is sweep you up and spit you out.'

  35

  Chloe

  Four weeks later...

  'Is this the one the Commander wasn't supposed to see?' Jack says, grinning at a photo of him and Noah completely trashed, sprawled outside a tent at a campsite in the mountains. They're surrounded by beer cans.

  'Oh my God, was that the magic mushroom night?' Alyssa laughs, taking it off him.

  'That was the everything night,' I reply. 'Jack, didn't you have an hour-long conversation with a log?'

  'Can you think of any that aren't here?' he asks, changing the subject. We're at his h
ouse, just down the street from our parents'. He kept the box I asked him to fetch from my bedroom and the photos are slowly getting spread out across his living room floor.

  'There are so many,' I say, frowning. 'I think Cooper probably was just looking for the one photo, you know. At least he wasn't lying about that.'

  'Speaking of your asshole ex, I saw him the other day,' Alyssa says, taking out another handful of photos. She grins as she holds one up of me and Noah buried in snow with only our faces showing. I remember it. It was before he crashed the sled. I see the scar on his bare shoulder in my mind's eye and turn the photo face down on the carpet.

  'I saw him in the library,' Alyssa follows.

  'Cooper? Does he even know what a library is? He's brain's so warped from all the weed I'm actually shocked he even knows his own name.'

  She snorts but the second the words come out I feel guilty all over again. I cheated on him and he never said a word. He still hasn't. I've seen him too, in Whole Foods. I made sure he didn't see me. I don't particularly want a run-in if I can help it; especially not when my mom's with me.

  'Aaaw, come on Chlo, you were totally in love with the guy once!' Jack says. 'So he fucked up with the photo thing, yes, but he's not that bad, is he?'

  I shoot Alyssa a look. She raises her eyebrows. Jack doesn't know about the drug deal in Chicago but he's right, Cooper's not that bad, I guess. I was the idiot who stayed with him for so long when I should've been stronger. It was me I was mad at most of the time.

  I manage to screw everything up, somehow.

  Jack passes me a photo. 'Peter Pan night,' he says, smiling. 'Remember those tights? I'm tempted to give this one to the paper myself! What d'you think?'

  I can't help but laugh as we all look at the shot. Noah's got his hands on his hips and he's looking sideways at me, while I gaze straight at the camera. I remember how hot I was in that long, white dress; how funny Noah looked jumping about in the green tights. I remember how we kissed on stage, the tiniest peck on the lips, the biggest jolt of my heart.