by Zoe Sugg
“Now, she’s a little bit shy, so she’s going to stay out of sight for now, but, Penny, baby, this one is for you.”
He strums the first few chords of “Autumn Girl” and I’m taken straight back to the time I first heard it, on my bed, listening to the recording that he made me. I want to tell Sadie Lee how amazing this is, when I realize that in all the emotion I’ve let the phone drift down; Sadie Lee and Bella are now facing the black box I’m sitting on. Not a good view at all! I whip the phone back up so it’s pointing at Noah and whisper an apology to them both.
Noah finishes the song to thunderous applause, then he jogs offstage and straight into my arms. We head back to the dressing room arm in arm, the noise from the crowd following us like a wave of love and support.
“You were incredible!” I say. “The best. I’m so proud of you.”
“That was excellent!” He can’t wipe the grin off his face, and I know my expression mirrors his.
If only TheRealTruth could see us now, they’d know their threats were pointless. Maybe there is something to this rock-star life after all.
“G-ma, Bella, what did you think?”
On the screen, Sadie Lee is wiping tears from her cheeks. “Noah, I have no words. You light up that stage.”
“Thanks, G-ma. You’re the best.”
“You kids go have fun now. It’s going to take me at least another hour to get this one to calm down after that.” Bella is running around on the screen, singing Noah’s songs at the top of her lungs.
“Goodnight!” Noah and I both say in sync, waving to the phone. I go to turn it off, and the battery flashes red.
“Oh no, I need a charger . . .”
I scan the room, desperate for a glimpse of my lost cable. But, instead, the rest of Noah’s band literally bounces into the room, and even Blake has a huge smile on his face. He smiles at me and I smile back. Maybe I did misjudge him.
“That was awesome,” Blake says to me as he passes. “Are you coming back to the hotel with us, Penny?”
“No, man. I have something planned for us,” says Noah, interrupting. He drops off his guitar with one of the technicians and sheds his leather jacket, then begins rooting through his duffel bag.
“Oh, cool.” With a couple of bounding leaps, Blake jumps on Ryan’s back, one fist pumping in the air. I laugh, watching them.
“Where are we going?” I raise one eyebrow at Noah.
He tosses a red beanie my way, then pulls a grey beanie down over his own hair. “I thought it would go well with your hair.”
“If you insist,” I say, putting on the hat.
“Now these.” He passes me a pair of glasses. They’re just frames, really—they don’t even have any glass in them. Noah puts on a pair too, but they go a bit crooked.
I reach up and straighten them on his face. I smile. If this is meant to be some sort of disguise, it’s not going to work. “You still look gorgeous—you can’t hide that!” I say to him.
“We don’t need a total disguise, just something to throw people off a little. Besides, where we’re going, no one will expect it to be me, so I need to play to that.” He pulls at my hand, and I follow him.
“But where are we going?”
“Why, we’re going to watch the world’s hottest boy band, of course.”
My face drains of colour, and I stop moving. He turns round as my hand slips out of his. “Penny? What’s wrong?”
I swallow and close my eyes. I can’t believe he’s asking me this. “Do you mean out there?” I say, really hoping that’s not what he means.
“Well, sure. You didn’t get to see their show last time—you left before you could. They’re amazing. Plus”—he takes a step forward and gathers my hand up in his—“I’ll be there with you this time. The whole time.”
He must be able to read the dubious look on my face, because all of a sudden he gets down on one knee and says, “I swear to you, Penny Porter, I won’t leave your side for a single moment!”
“Stop that!” I shriek, convinced that someone is going to take a photo of him and think that he’s proposing—now that would be another scandal. “OK, I’ll go with you,” I say, and I can feel a blush rising up my neck, prickling the skin on my cheeks.
He grins and stands up. “Good. And, if you don’t enjoy it at any time, just tell me.”
“Oh, what about my camera?” I ask.
“Take it—you might capture something cool from the audience.” He gives my hand a squeeze and pulls me out through a side door, down a few hallways, and out into the crowd.
Chapter Nineteen
I can feel my heart beating in my throat as the darkness of the audience surrounds us. It’s also quiet, even though there are thousands of people all around us—I can feel the anticipation of the crowd growing, as they anxiously wait for The Sketch’s arrival. I cling on to Noah so tightly I wonder if I’m going to cut off the circulation in his hand. He doesn’t seem to mind, though. He takes me a few people deep into the crowd, and he was right: no one expects to see him, so no one takes any notice of us, except to gripe about us pushing through.
He comes to a stop in front of the stage, but several rows of people back. The way everyone around us is jostling our arms and stepping on our toes reminds me of the Brighton concert, but this time I have Noah’s hands reassuringly on my shoulders.
Then the lights snap on, and The Sketch bound onto the stage. The screaming starts immediately and, caught up in the excitement of the crowd, I scream just as loudly. Even Noah lets out a loud whoop.
They play with frenetic energy, pounding through hit after hit. It’s not just that their songs are catchy—and there’s no doubt that they are—but they are also such great musicians, playing riffs on their guitars that you never hear on their radio tracks and hitting every note.
When Leah Brown appears, the screaming gets even louder—if that was possible. She enters in one of the most dramatic ways possible—from a harness suspended from the ceiling—and sings a feature chorus in one of The Sketch’s most energetic songs. Her transformation from when I saw her earlier today is amazing: she’s wearing a sparkling silver minidress, and her hair is blown out behind her like it travels with its own fan. On anyone else, her ensemble would look ridiculous, but on Leah it just works. As the song progresses, she’s slowly lowered down onto the stage, and I even manage to snap pictures the whole time.
When she reaches the stage, the whole tempo of the performance changes. The bright lights go out completely, plunging us all into darkness. It feels like everyone in the arena is holding their breath. Slowly, tiny points of light appear in the ceiling, until it feels like we’re standing beneath a canopy of stars. It’s breathtakingly beautiful, and instinctively Noah draws me close, wrapping his arms round me. I lean into him.
Two beams of light appear on the stage, illuminating Leah and Hayden—the lead singer of The Sketch—who are now sitting on stools. Leah has changed into a black dress, sequinned to catch the light, and her hair lies flat, framing her face like a curtain.
“Hi, Berlin,” says Hayden. “We have something a bit different for you guys now. Something no one has heard before. We hope you like it.”
He starts to sing a cappella, and without any backing music his voice is strong and clear. Leah picks up her lines, and together they sing a beautiful, haunting duet about lovers who are kept apart.
I feel tears prick my eyes and, even though no one here has heard this before, I know I’m not the only one. Emotion floods the crowd. It’s like we’re all connected through the music. This is a taste of the passion I know Noah feels when he writes his songs. This is what he wants to create: a chain of notes and words that can make a crowd of thousands move and feel as one.
“I love you, Penny,” Noah whispers in my ear.
I squeeze his arms round me.
There’s a roar from the audience when the song ends—it looks like Leah and The Sketch have another hit on their hands. The spell is broken—or, r
ather, the spell has been cast. The audience is completely with The Sketch now, and would clearly follow them to the ends of the earth. The lights come back on, bright and blazing in our eyes, and the beat picks up into a fast tempo.
Noah and I are no different from everyone else around us. We dance like wild people and sing at the tops of our voices, getting sweaty and silly and not caring for even a moment. By the time the band plays their final encore, I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy.
Chapter Twenty
Still reeling from such an amazing night, Noah and I skip along the hotel corridor and back up to my room (I’m not even worrying if my deodorant has stood up to the task of all that dancing). We continue singing The Sketch’s songs right up until we get to the door.
“I’ll leave you here, Pen, as a proper gentleman would.” Noah opens the door and gestures with his arm into the room like a bellboy, almost bowing as he does so. His hair is a lot messier and curlier than usual when he releases it from underneath the beanie, which he unceremoniously dumps on the floor. He looks at me with a twinkle in his eye and a cheeky smirk on his face, his dimples appearing as if by magic. I completely melt on the spot. I don’t think I have ever been more in love with Noah Flynn than I am right now.
“Don’t you have time to come in for a bit? Tonight was amazing, but we’ve not had much of a chance to chill out, just the two of us, yet.” I try out what I hope is an endearing smile.
Noah chuckles. “Sorry, Autumn Girl—I’ve got to go back to the venue and make sure everything’s set up for tomorrow. Dean loves a good debrief.” I must not be doing a very good job of hiding the disappointment on my face, because he’s right up close to me, his face soft with a smile. “We’ve got Magical Mystery Day tomorrow, Penny—a whole day, just you and me. I promise it will be amazing and completely cake-fuelled.” He kisses me on the lips before I can reply.
“How could I forget?” I say, when I’m able to take a breath. How can any human being be this charming and desirable? It’s going to end up killing me.
Then, against my wishes, my mouth opens into a yawn so big I could almost swallow Noah’s head, messy hair and all. I’m embarrassed, but Noah just pulls me tight into his chest—which is shaking with laughter.
“You look as tired as I feel,” he says. “You have no idea how much I want to just stay here with you, but you should get some rest . . . you’re going to need it for tomorrow.”
I feel my heart flutter at a million miles an hour as he turns to head back down the corridor.
“Goodnight, gorgeous!” he yells as he skips off and disappears round the corner.
I collapse in a giggly heap on my bed. The biggest smile creeps across my face and I feel myself almost well up with happiness. I let out a huge sigh and roll over onto my stomach and kick off my Converses. I grab my laptop from the bedside table and open up my emails. I start typing an email to Elliot.
From: Penny Porter
To: Elliot Wentworth
Subject: RE: Re: Re: Re: THE ELLIOT REPORT
Wiki, Wiki, Wa-Wa-West,
I think I’m on cloud nine and I can never imagine myself ever coming down. I’ve just had the best night with Noah. I watched him perform, he was amazing (as always), and then he dragged me out into the crowd to watch The Sketch perform with Leah Brown. She was actually pretty amazing. Noah and I danced and held hands and sang as loud as we could right up until the end, and I DID NOT PANIC! Amazing, right?
I’ve had one of those pinch-me moments about how perfect Noah is and how lucky I am to be here with him, supporting him and watching his success grow before my eyes, and that I’m the one he chooses to share this with. I can imagine you retching at the screen as you read this, but I really am SO happy right now. You’ll also be pleased to know that I’m exploring Berlin tomorrow with Noah for MMD!
Will of course fill you in once I’m back.
Missing you a lot, but also having the best time!
Pen xxx
26 June
How to Survive Life on a Massive European Pop Tour
So, I know you’re all dying to know the details, and guess what? I’ve survived my first day of life on tour! Not only that . . . I actually enjoyed it. After he’d finished his set, Brooklyn Boy took me out into the crowd to watch the headline act, and we danced all night until we were sweaty and gross. But it was wonderful.
I feel like I’ve learned so much already, even though I’ve only been on tour for a day! Here are my top tips so far.
1. Snacks are your best friend.
There’s almost no time to have a proper meal when you’re jetting from bus to hotel to venue and back again. I’m going to line my pockets with muesli bars in case I get peckish.
2. There are people EVERYWHERE backstage.
Who knew so many people were needed to run a tour? There’s not just Brooklyn Boy’s manager and band, but also his security guard, publicist, photographers, makeup artists, hair stylists, stage manager, his manager’s assistant, his manager’s assistant’s assistant, and about a million roadies who all seem to know exactly what to do.
3. Sleep when and wherever you can.
Everyone seems to. Today I saw somebody fall asleep on top of a speaker that was blaring music from the stage! I feel like it’s a warning of the lack of sleep that is to come . . .
4. Don’t expect to fit in much sightseeing.
Even though tomorrow Brooklyn Boy and I are going to see as much as we can of Berlin, his schedule is so jam-packed that I can’t even imagine how he’s been able to carve out any time for me!
It’s all so exciting and scary! But I’ll try to remember to keep the blog up to date.
Girl Offline . . . never going online xxx
Chapter Twenty-One
The next morning my alarm goes off at 8 a.m. and I scramble around for an outfit that is comfortable yet cool and chic. I settle on a loose white T-shirt tucked into a pleated black skirt, and I make sure to wear my delicate gold-chain necklace with the words AUTUMN GIRL written in cursive on the pendant. It was my Valentine’s Day present from Noah this year, and it’s my favourite thing to wear. Noah texted me soon after he left last night and told me to meet him downstairs for breakfast at nine this morning to start Magical Mystery Day off properly.
I grab my camera and head down in the lift to reception. The lobby is what Elliot would describe as uber-modern—all glossy black countertops and white walls, with a bright, bold graffiti print hanging behind the reception desk. It’s packed, and I walk past the long queue of people checking in, most of whom are trailing big suitcases. I start wondering what kind of adventures these people are on, or what adventures they’ve had. Are they here alone? Have they been on a romantic European city break?
I take a seat on a plush velvet sofa in the reception lobby and a beautiful spray of orchids catches my eye. I can’t help myself—I lift my camera and start snapping away. Orchids are one of my favourite flowers, particularly white ones. Elliot once bought me an orchid for my birthday and it sat proudly on my dressing table, looking elegant and fresh. Unfortunately, its beauty was short-lived—I quickly realized how difficult it is to look after them, as I overwatered it and it died. The year after that he bought me a cute succulent in a miniature hanging pot and told me if I managed to kill that then I could never own another plant again! Thankfully, it’s still hanging in the corner of my room, holding up despite the fact that I don’t pay it any attention. That’s about the level of care I can handle, and Elliot knows it.
I look down at my phone—it’s 9:20 a.m. I look back up and scan the reception lobby for any sign of Noah. Nothing. Just the hustle and bustle of a busy Berlin hotel, but no sign of my boyfriend’s trademark scuffed jeans and sparkling white smile. He must still be getting ready, I convince myself. Or maybe he has something up his sleeve that involves a bit of planning? I recline onto the sofa and wait a further ten minutes, watching people start their day.
“Oh, hey, Penny?”
The voic
e startles me out of my people-watching. I crane my head over the sofa and see a rather sorry-looking Dean, bloodshot eyes peering at me over the top of his gold-rimmed Ray-Bans. “Why are you hanging around in reception? Have you had breakfast yet? I think they stop serving at ten, so you should get in there quick if you want a croissant. They get snapped up pretty quick.” His husky laugh turns into a cough. He really does look rough.
“No, I’m waiting for Noah. We’re having breakfast together, then heading out to explore the city.”
Dean cackles so loudly that it echoes throughout the lobby and a few people turn and stare at him with bemused looks on their faces. When he finally recovers, he says, “You won’t be seeing him until at least midday. The boys were out until about four a.m. last night. It could’ve been later—I gave up at three thirty.” He slumps down onto the sofa next to me. “It got really crazy, to be honest, hence the sunglasses. Man, I need a coffee. And I wouldn’t say no to a bacon sandwich.”
My heart sinks. I try to maintain a smiley demeanour while Dean is still beside me.
“Oh, of course. Silly me, I completely forgot. Noah did mention something about it changing to midday.” I stumble on my words as I struggle to think of anything to say that will make me seem less of an idiot.
“Do you want to grab a bite with me instead? I mean, I’m nowhere near as good-looking, but I can play a few chords on the guitar.” Dean stands up and tries to usher me over to the dining area but I shake my head.
“Actually I think I’m going to head back up to my room. I just realized I have to call my parents and let them know I’m still alive. You know what parents can be like . . . they forget you aren’t ten anymore, and if they don’t hear from me they might send the police, or the army . . . or at least my brother, Tom. But you enjoy your hangover cure. I’ll see you later.”