‘There’s a bloody paparazzi out there harassing Ella.’ He gave Amelie a kiss on the cheek and flicked the kettle on.
‘I think Mum might be harassing him.’
‘I mean, I have no idea what’s going on here, but I could strangle that idiot. I didn’t even see you two speaking? I mean it, I’m furious. What happened, Amelie?’
‘Well, he was quite pushy, but I don’t know why I … Oh, Dad, I’m so stupid, he asked for my Twitter name. I didn’t think he’d find me online or even mention me – let alone allude to some kind of thing between us.’
Her dad sighed. ‘This is what they do, I’m afraid. They’re not responsible with the fans online – they’re notorious for it. I could wring his bloody neck.’
Amelie sunk her head into her hands. ‘Why couldn’t it have been someone cool?’ she moaned.
‘I’ll fix this,’ her dad said gently, seeing that his daughter looked exhausted and vulnerable. ‘Honestly, I could throttle the little prick.’
‘Michael! Language!’ Ella said in her poshest English accent.
She was looking rather smug, stuffing the nice young paparazzi’s phone number into her pocket as she fussed over the warming and comforting Boeuf Bourguignon she was heating up for lunch.
‘Sorry, Ella,’ Amelie’s dad said, giving her mum a quick kiss on the cheek. ‘How are you doing?’
‘Oh, I’m fine,’ she smiled. ‘These kids though! Always a drama.’
‘Let me call Geoff now. Bloody idiot.’
‘Guys, come on,’ Ella said, forever the care-free optimist. ‘It’s really going to pass. Mike, you know what it’s like, this stuff happened to you ALL the time way back when. And to be fair,’ she nodded towards the window, ‘it was more than just one – rather handsome – photographer camped outside your door.’
Amelie’s dad raised his eyebrows.
‘It’s different now, Ella. With the internet, the attention is so much more personal and intense. All I ever had to put up with was a photo as I was leaving The Ivy or some bar or whatever.’
‘Which was every other week,’ Ella reminded him.
‘Trust me, it’s different.’
He pulled out his phone and began searching.
‘Damn it, I don’t have the bloody number. I was sure. Ah, maybe on the call sheet.’
Amelie tried to breathe deeply and quash the anxiety that radiated through her, and the nausea in her belly. She looked across the lounge at her guitar, sitting on the floor, and felt her resentment begin to rise. Was all this really what she wanted? If she was going to be a musician, a performer, an artist, was this what would become normal to her?
‘It’s not always like this, Amelie,’ her dad said.
‘I’ll just make that nice chap a hot chocolate. Anyone else?’ Her mum was still going on about the handsome but apparently perilously cold photographer outside.
‘Hey, Mel, if you get this message, I need to talk to Geoff urgently. Can you have him call me?’
They waited for a few moments in silence. Amelie’s mum put her hand on her daughter’s shoulder and said gently, ‘I know it feels like you’re the centre of the universe right now, but this attention is not real. It will pass. You should just try to disengage with it, darling. People love a rumour and a gossip, but those people are fickle and easily distracted. It will be something else soon.’ Ella looked at Mike and for a moment Amelie thought she could see something unspoken between them.
‘She’s right,’ said her father, looking a little uncomfortable. His phone vibrated and, quick as a flash, he picked up.
‘Hi, Geoff! Thanks for calling me back, mate. No. I didn’t hear? No not about that, I was calling about something else. No, I’m sorry to hear that – but the answer is still a no. Yeah, it’s about my daughter actually. Well, she’s getting a lot of attention because one of your boys has said some things online that have led the press to believe they are dating or something. Yeah. Charlie? That’s the little sleazebag. It’s in the papers today. The fucking Sun actually. Well, my daughter is struggling, to be honest. There’s paps outside her front door. It’s too much. She’s only just seventeen, mate.’
At this, he walked out of the living room and into the bathroom, where he shut the door and kept on with his conversation.
‘What will happen, Mum?’
‘I guess they will decide how to deal with it. It’s pretty naughty of this boy, I mean, he must know what he’s doing.’
‘I think he thinks he’s doing me some kind of favour.’ She winced. ‘I mean most girls would love it, to be honest.’
When Mike came back into the room he looked pleased, albeit a little grim. ‘I think it’s sorted. I mean, Geoff has promised to get their publicist to deal with it – I’m not sure how, but Amelie, they know what they’re doing. He’s a tough negotiator though. I’ve agreed to do the last few tour dates with them.’
‘Oh, Dad.’ Amelie felt terrible. ‘Really?’
‘Don’t worry about it, love. They’re paying me for it.’
‘But you HATE it!’
‘Well, it’s okay. I like Geoff a lot, and their sound guy Bill is very sick – he’s in hospital actually – and they’re really struggling to plug some of the dates. I don’t mind, I need to finish a couple of things at the studio but after that I’m not too busy. And it hopefully gives me a chance to kick-start my next project.’
‘Are you sure, Dad?’ Amelie was unconvinced.
‘Yeah. I’m sure.’
‘How will it help, though?’
‘With what?’
‘Your next project. I mean, being away from the studio?’
Her dad looked at her for a moment, like he was weighing something up.
‘Oh, well. I guess I can tell you after everything that’s happened. But Amelie – you have to keep this to yourself. I know you will.’ He raised his hand. ‘But I need you to promise.’ He watched with amusement as her eyes showed a faint sparkle.
‘What? Are you doing their album? You’re not, are you?’
‘No,’ he curled his nose up. ‘But I am – might be – working with one of the boys, but as you can imagine this is quite sensitive information.’
‘Wow! Really? Not Charlie though – so who? Which one?’ She gasped suddenly. ‘Oh! Maxx?’
‘Yes, but it’s complicated.’ He smiled. ‘Even super-famous people doubt themselves, Amelie.’
‘But he’s not a musician?’
‘He is, actually. A very skilled one as it happens. You should take a look at him on American Stars? Check out his audition – he went on with just his guitar and sang a song he wrote himself – but they made him join The Keep. I don’t know much more than that really, but I’ve seen the audition. It was pretty neat.’
Amelie remembered the story, and was utterly fascinated to hear that her dad would be working with him. That was clearly what they had been discussing at the after party, and considering her dad’s taste in music and impeccable standards in who he agreed to work with, she was intrigued.
‘Which one is he?’ Amelie’s mum interrupted, holding up the newspaper with a photo of the band arriving at the Apollo.
‘That one,’ Amelie pointed at Maxx. ‘The moody, bored-looking one.’
‘He’s a good kid, actually,’ Mike said. ‘Got his feet on the ground. I think, well, I think he probably made a big mistake joining the band, that kind of music, it’s not in his blood. No, really. I like him.’
Amelie stood up and hugged her dad.
‘I should be more kind. Thank you so much for sorting this out.’
‘It’s not sorted yet, but Geoff assures me it will be right away. I’m just sorry this happened. Well, I guess we will know for next time!’
‘Mike, thank you.’ Her mum touched his arm. ‘Really.’
‘It’s okay. I’m sorry again. Have a nice lunch – smells incredible as usual!’
Amelie decided to run herself a hot bath after her father left. Hopefully this entire misunde
rstanding would be sorted soon and she could forget Charlie and Maxx and The Keep and the whole sordid affair. She had an audition to prepare for, and laying low would give her the perfect excuse to get stuck in and get herself ready.
Her mum knocked gently on the door as she sunk deeply into the mass of rose bubbles.
‘Amelie, darling. That was the school. They want to know if you are coming back in tomorrow, and I told them yes – is that okay?’
‘Yeah, Mum. There’s only three days left before we break for the summer. I can face it.’
CHAPTER 12
I Think I Smell a Rat
Geoff called Charlie off stage during the full dress rehearsal and soundcheck for the Copenhagen show. He was furious after ending the call with Mike, and came stomping across the hall with his face red and his temples throbbing.
‘Can’t it wait? We’re nearly done!’ Charlie replied as they worked out the final moves to ‘You’re My Little Baby’, a number that necessitated dancing with huge oversized toddler toys.
‘Get down here, you miserable little worm.’
The Berlin shows had not been great. The sound was dreadful – after Bill had pulled out at the eleventh hour they’d had to improvise. That had worked fine in London with Mike, but in Berlin they’d had to rope in someone they didn’t know. Someone who came on the recommendation of the venue manager, but who turned out to be the ex-husband of a friend of his aunt and had never tackled a gig of that magnitude before. The microphones constantly dropped out; for an entire song you couldn’t hear the bass drum; and the vocal harmonies were mixed all wrong so on some songs you could actually hear Charlie.
From the perspective of the tour, the call from Mike had been extremely fortuitous. He couldn’t join them for a few days but then he’d be with them until the final night in Paris, and all Geoff had to do was shout at Charlie for his inappropriate behaviour with a girl. Or shout at all of them because it was fun. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t angry.
‘Actually can I have all of you down here?’
The boys looked at each other. It wasn’t often that Geoff was really, properly annoyed – and he seemed furious.
‘I know you all sit around at home masturbating over your own reflections, but just a reminder – you’re on the slide. You can’t afford mistakes any more or you’re out of the game. You’ll be catapulted back into your pointless previous existences, grasping for something to fill the void. Maybe you’ll find an addiction, swim the Atlantic for charity, or end up on Dancing With the Has-Been Stars. I don’t give a shit.’
Charlie rolled his eyes. ‘Yes. We have to be careful. What have I done now?’
‘Can you guys all please remember what we taught you about tweeting people – especially your younger female fans – individually? It seems the Sun newspaper, TMZ, The Buzz and a host of other equally highbrow publications all think you are dating Mike Church’s daughter, Charlie. Because of some tweets you’ve posted.’
Lee burst out laughing. ‘Jeez, you’re a fucking dick.’
Maxx felt a pang of irritation and wished he’d spoken up when Charlie had been bragging about her in London, or when he’d alluded to her again in Berlin. He put his hands in his pockets and looked at the ground, trying to disengage himself from the conversation.
‘It isn’t funny. Charlie, we’re going to make a statement of some kind, Mel is talking to publicity now. I don’t care if you two are dating, or want to date or whatever is going on, you need to put an end to it. Publicly at least.’
Then, at last, Charlie seemed to realise it was serious. ‘Is she pissed?’
‘She’s upset about the attention, of course. She hasn’t been to school or something. Regardless, her father – your new sound engineer – is VERY pissed.’
‘I don’t want to make a statement,’ Charlie sulked. ‘What are you going to say?’
‘We don’t know yet, but we have to protect her. I promised so that Mike would do the last few dates on the tour.’
‘Mike’s joining the tour?’ Maxx asked, trying to move the conversation away from Charlie.
‘Yep. So, Charlie, you’d better organise your apology,’ Geoff warned. ‘Guys, we have to take this stuff seriously.’
Maxx was looking forward to speaking with Mike again, and filling him in on the duet idea with Dee. He’d already started writing, getting himself off to his room and plucking away on his new guitar.
It was easily the best one he’d ever owned, a beautiful vintage – the only one he could find that he loved in the little store in Berlin. There was something about the body and old school elevation of the neck that he liked – made him feel like he had to work for each note, each chord. The inspiration was beginning to come back already, and he would seek out every moment between photo shoots, record store appearances and TV interviews to sneak off and write.
‘The statement will be out by the end of the week. In the meantime, can you all try to stay off Twanker and Prickbook or wherever you go to troll underage girls?’
‘No problem for me. I try to limit my screen time,’ Art said smugly.
‘Jesus, you’re not a fucking toddler,’ Geoff snapped at him, his anger causing his neck to turn deep red as he started to mutter wildly to himself. ‘I try to limit my fucking screen time? Jesus Christ. Kill me now. I hate my life.’
‘Everyone got it?’ Mel jumped in quickly.
‘Sure,’ Maxx said, while Art, Kyle and Lee all nodded in agreement. He glanced over at Charlie, who was still sulking like an insolent child.
Maxx was starting to really dislike him.
‘Great.’ Geoff turned and marched off with Mel by his side. Cursing and waving his arms as he went.
‘So, is something going on with you two?’ Maxx asked Charlie when Geoff and Mel were out of earshot.
‘Why?’
‘I just wondered. Well, why, really? What do you gain from it? If something is going on, why would you want the fans to know? We’re supposed to keep these things quiet.’
‘Like you and Dee did?’ Charlie scoffed.
‘Um, well I think that’s a bit different, don’t you? Besides, we kept it secret for a long time.’
‘What’s it to you, anyway?’ Charlie glared at Maxx.
‘Woah!’ Kyle intervened. ‘Guys. Let’s just chill.’
‘Why don’t we take a break and go see an exhibition?’ Art suggested.
‘Do you just do it for the thrill of it?’ Maxx persisted. ‘I’m just wondering?’
Maybe it was because of his intention to work with Mike, maybe it was just that he hated to see people upset, maybe he just disliked Charlie’s attitude – but Maxx had not a care in the world for the consequences of his actions. He wasn’t sure why he was so irritated, or why he was sticking up for a girl he didn’t know, but he couldn’t stop himself.
‘It’s really none of your business, dude,’ Charlie said, eyeing his band mate with suspicion. Then suddenly his face changed and a sly smile creeped across it.
‘Oh, interesting.’
‘What?’
‘Well, well,’ Charlie continued. ‘Like her, do you?’
‘Guys, can we move on now?’ Lee faked a yawn. ‘This is getting boring.’
‘I don’t know her.’ Maxx was suddenly on the defensive.
Charlie took a swig of his water bottle and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He turned to the band and singers on stage. ‘Well, it’s not my fault she wants me.’
Maxx smirked in disbelief. ‘Sure, Charlie.’
‘Well, don’t blame me.’ He shrugged. ‘That’s all I’m saying, bro.’
Maxx had had enough. He pulled himself back up onto the stage, picked up his stupid oversized toddler props and marched off stage, tossing them into the prop bin on his way out.
‘What’s going on?’ Dee sounded concerned, staring over at Charlie as Maxx picked up his sunglasses and wallet from the side of the stage.
‘Charlie. He really pisses me off, is what.’ Maxx
was fuming, but he also felt foolish. It hadn’t occurred to him that Amelie would have been interested in Charlie, but of course that made the most sense. They had been having a flirtation and the fandom had gotten wind of it and made Amelie’s life hell. It happened all the time.
Lee’s girlfriend Jessica nearly broke up with him over a couple of misinterpreted tweets from over-enthusiastic fans. He felt like an idiot for making such a scene over nothing.
Dee put her hand on his shoulder and whispered, ‘What’s happened? Did he say something?’
‘No.’ There was nothing Maxx could say without sounding like even more of a dick. He shook his head. ‘I don’t want to talk about it. I have no right to be annoyed. It’s stupid. He’s free to date whomever he wants. It’s cool, Dee, honestly.’
Dee looked relieved. ‘Oh really?’ She looked back at Charlie again. ‘Is he dating someone …?’ her voice trailed off nervously.
‘What? Look, it’s cool,’ Maxx said putting his sunglasses on. ‘I’m over it. I need to move on from all of this.’ He was referring to the band, to Dee, to this whole bullshit life he was living. Dee smiled timidly at him.
I need to get back to London as soon as possible, with Mike, he thought as he headed out into the cool air.
CHAPTER 13
Consequence of Sounds
‘Dad, can I drop by?’ Amelie shouted down the phone, pulling off her PJs and tossing them across the room so they landed in the vicinity of the clothes basket, which was currently housing her neglected saxophone.
‘PLEEEEEASE!’ she begged, pulling on her jeans, which conveniently and finally tore authentically at the knee. She stopped for a moment to admire the perfect fraying.
‘What?’ her dad said. ‘No, no, no! Not today, darling. I have a production meeting about a new session this morning and then I’m flying out for the last few tour dates with—’
‘The boyband. I know.’ Amelie smirked to herself. ‘I’ll be quick, I’ve got to get home anyway and practise.’
She hung up quickly, before he had a chance to argue further, and grabbed her guitar. ‘Mum, I’m going to see Dad!’ Amelie called, slamming the door behind her.
This Beats Perfect Page 8