Starstruck (32 page)

‘I
don’t know, she’s pretty famous for her sex tape.’ He flashes me a grin.

‘Don’t
you be getting any ideas. I mean it though, I want it all, right down to the
tiny little doggy.’

‘You
want a tiny little doggy?’ he laughs.

‘I
do, I want a tiny little doggy. A Chihuahua - preferably one that will fit
inside a handbag.’

‘Oh,
that would be classic.’ He laughs. ‘You know what though, it would suit you.’

‘I
know, right?’ I joke.

‘Well
you could always marry Dylan now his current marriage has gone tits up. He’s
got more than enough money to give you a Paris Hilton lifestyle.’

‘Don’t
even joke about it, I am sorting this out as soon as possible. Actually, I’d
better start making calls.’ I pull out my hand from under his and it feels
really sudden and forceful, I hadn’t meant it that way.

I
wander back inside a grab my phone from my bag.

‘I’ll
give you a bit of privacy, can I get you a drink?’

‘Sure,
surprise me!’

He
laughs and heads for the kitchen, and I begin the impossible task of trying to
get hold of Dylan King.

For
as long as I have known Mikey King he has always been exceptionally nice to me.
When I first started hanging around with Dylan I felt a little intimidated by
it all. We’d be at parties and Dylan would wander off and leave me on my own,
and back then I didn’t really know anyone or how to behave, but Mikey would
always look out for me. If he saw me standing on my own, he’d be over in a
flash. I’ve always felt he gets over shadowed by his big brother. Dylan is the
front-man with the just above average voice, but all the charm and sex appeal
to get away with anything, whereas Mikey is the genuinely talented guitarist
who, despite being good looking, doesn’t have quite as much confidence as his
brother. He definitely makes the most of his rock and roll lifestyle though,
just like his brother – sorry, just like his brother used to. His brother who currently
has his phone turned on, but seems to be ignoring my calls. I tried him a few
times and he didn’t pick up, then I tried him again and he reject my call.
That’s when I called Mikey. He was so sweet to me, there were no questions
about what went on, he didn’t even need to ask, he knows us both well enough to
know that nothing would ever happen and I think he must have felt a bit sorry
for me because he agreed to help me – behind his brothers back.

Dylan
is hiding from the press in his massive house, and Mikey is staying with him, being
Dylan’s Jake I guess. In the morning I am going to Dylan’s house and meeting
Mikey at the back entrance. He’s going to smuggle me inside so that I can talk
to Dill. He’s making his statement in the afternoon, maybe I can be there with
him, help back up his story. I think he’s avoiding me because he’s worried
about being in contact with me, but we can put that right.

‘So
you’re doorstopping him?’ Luke asks.

‘You
mean doorstepping.’ I laugh. ‘And no, I’m not. I’m invited, well, technically
invited.’

‘You
journalists love to twist shit don’t you?’ he teases, melting my heart with his
cheeky smile.

‘Hey,
I am a victim of shit-twisting.’

‘I
know, I know. Shall I get us some dinner?’ he asks, changing the subject.

‘Sure.
Do you need a hand?’ I ask, knowing full well that I can’t cook. To be honest,
I just want to play in his kitchen, it looks fun. He has gadgets that I didn’t
even know existed.

‘I’m
sure I can handle it, dinner is just one quick phone call away.’

Running
my hand across the worktop, I examine the kitchen. It looks like it’s been used
even less than mine.

‘Don’t
you cook?’ I ask, surprised. He’s a few years older than I am, I assumed he was
a proper adult.

‘No,’
he says with a laugh. ‘Why, do you?’

I
shake my head. It’s amazing I manage to survive on my own.

Luke
drops a pile of take-away menus in front of me. ‘I’ll let the lady choose.’

I
am stuffed full of pizza and more than a little bit drunk. Luke has enough
alcohol in his apartment to seriously consider supplying one or two of the
fancy bars that are in the area and we’re currently working our way through
some of it. However much I’ve had to drink, Luke has easily had double that.

‘Would
your Chihuahua wear clothes then?’ Luke asks me.

‘Of
course! Dogs deserve clothes too. You can even buy shoes for them.’

‘What?
Shoes for dogs?’ He laughs manically. ‘Lies!’

‘I’m
not lying. One day I will have my tiny dog, and he’ll be wearing tiny shoes,
and you’ll owe me an apology.’

‘We’ll
see, Wilde.’

I
let out a huge sigh and rest my head on Luke’s shoulder. ‘Have I made a mess of
my life, Luke?’

‘Most
girls would kill for your life.’ He strokes my cheek.

‘Maybe
I should have got a proper job, a proper boyfriend – do you know how many of my
school friends are married or have kids?’

‘Married
or
have kids?’ he asks, confused.

‘Yeah,
one or the other, never both.’

 We
both laugh.

‘Don’t
say things like that,’ he demands. ‘I don’t have a proper job, or a proper
girlfriend. My life is as bullshit as yours.’

‘We
live bullshit lives, Luke.’ I poor the remainder of my drink down my throat,
and the questionable cranberry:vodka ratio catches my throat. ‘That’s what I
need, another drink. I’m going to numb the pain away, sort the Dylan crap
tomorrow, and worry about the rest after.’

 ‘You
know, if you want to forget your troubles, I have something a bit better for us
to take,’ Luke tells me.

‘Oh
aye?’ I ask, no idea what he’s on about.

‘Aye,
farm girl,’ he teases. ‘You up for it?’

‘Up
for what?’ I smile.

‘A
bit of coke.’

‘Coke?
Oh.’ I suddenly realise he doesn’t mean the kind you drink.

‘It
helps, Nic.’

‘You
shouldn’t take drugs, they’re bad for you.’

‘Ha!’
he laughs. ‘Says the girl with the triple vodka. Everything is bad for you
these days.’

Does
he really think that taking drugs will solve all my problems? Is that what he
does? Is that why he looks like shit? I knew he’d done a bit on tour, but I
thought that was just a tour thing.

‘How
often do you do this?’

‘Now
and then. It’s alright, Nic.’ He drags himself to his feet and offers me his
hand. I let him pull me up and he leads me into his bedroom.

‘Sit
there,’ he instructs me, nudging me towards his bed. ‘Just watch me do it
first, it’s fine, honestly.’

‘What?
No! Please don’t do this shit in front of me,’ I demand.

‘Nic,
it’s fine.’

 ‘It’s
not fine,’ I insist, panic in my voice. Luke sits down next to me and I look
into his eyes. I’d always thought his eyes were so beautiful, before they
started looking all sore and puffy. I place my hand on his face and despite his
tired eyes and bad skin, I can still see his kind face and his lovely smile.

‘Oh
Luke,’ I sob.

‘Shit.
Don’t cry, Nic.’ He holds my face gently in his hands.

‘Promise
me you won’t take anything,’ I whisper.

‘I
want to,’ he runs his hands through his hair. ‘My God, I really want to. But I
won’t, ok?’

I
nod, and before I realise what I’m doing I lean forwards and kiss him softly.
Tears still streaming down my face, I stop kissing him and wipe my eyes.

‘I
wasn’t expecting that to happen,’ he tells me with a confused smile.

‘I
think I just wanted to shut you up,’ I say with a laugh. I know we were trying
to be friends, but from the moment I laid eyes on him earlier today all the old
feelings came flooding back.

‘I
think we should get to bed.’ Luke stands up.

‘Oh.
Ok. Where am I sleeping?’ I feel so awkward - why did I kiss him?

‘There’s
a bed in the spare room, but I think you should come in with me tonight, keep
an eye on me, you know?’ he pulls off his t-shirt and unbuttons his jeans.

‘Ok.’
I stand up, not entirely sure if I’m reading the signals right.

Luke
places a hand on the back of my neck and feels for the zip of my dress before
pulling it down and letting my dress fall to the floor. He’s so close I can
smell the beer on his breath, but I really don’t care.

‘Bedtime
I think, Wilde.’

‘I’m
sorry about last night.’

Waking
up in Luke’s bed with him, that is the last thing I expected him to say.

‘Don’t
apologise, you weren’t that bad,’ I tease, snuggling closer and resting my head
on his chest.

‘You
know what I mean, and I’m sorry. I never should have tried to pressure you into
doing... that. I won’t ever suggest it again, and you won’t ever see me do it
again.’

I
don’t know whether that means he’s going to stop doing it, or he’s just not
going to do it in front of me, but it’s progress for now.

‘I
know, babe,’ I say, sitting up to check the time on my phone. ‘I’d better go, I’ll
be late to meet Mikey.’

‘You’ve
got ages,’ Luke says after checking his watch and realising that I’m not
actually meeting Mikey for a few hours.

‘Yes,
but I have to get ready and I have to get there.’

‘How
are you getting there?’ he asks.

‘Taxi,’
I tell him, knowing exactly what his reply will be.

‘A
taxi? In London? That will be expensive you know.’

‘Why
do people who live in London always say that? Do you think they’re free up
north or something?’

‘Something
like that,’ he laughs. ‘It’s your money darling. If it were me I’d-’

‘...get
the tube,’ I say in unison with him, mocking his accent slightly.

‘Ok,
fine. Do you want me to come with you?’ he asks.

‘No,
stay in bed. You look tired. I’ll come back straight afterwards and we’ll go
out to celebrate, yeah?’

He
nods and flashes me that smile. God, I love it when he smiles. I grab my toilet
bag and walk towards the bathroom, pausing the in the doorway.

‘You
won’t do anything silly while I’m out will you?’ I ask.

He
laughs. ‘You worry too much, Nic. Go get ready.’

I
feel like a spy or something. I am currently hiding in the bushes at the bottom
of Dylan’s massive back garden.

Right
in the middle of the 8ft tall fence there is a secret gate that only opens from
the inside. I know that Dylan uses it to sneak in and out of his house
sometimes, but this is the first time I’ve seen it. So here I am, standing in
the mud, waiting for Mikey to come and let me in.

‘Everything
is going to work out ok,’ I reassure myself out loud. Everything has to work
out ok because nothing happened. That’s the truth. If I had slept with Dylan
then we’d have something to hide and people would find out that we were lying,
but if we’re telling the truth then who can catch us out?

‘Good
morning.’ I smile as Mikey opens the gate, but then I catch the worried look on
his face.

‘What’s
happened?’ I ask instantly.

‘Quick,
come in. I told Dylan you were coming about five minutes ago. He’s worried
about you being seen here, but there’s only one pap out front. Podgy git, you
could have come in the front door, he wouldn’t take much outrunning.’

His
joke calms me down a bit, but the idea of Dylan not wanting to see me, no
matter what the circumstances are, makes me feel physically sick.

Once
inside Dylan’s massive house we make our way to the living room where Dylan is
sitting in his boxer shorts. I don’t realise this until Mikey flicks the lights
on.

‘Mate,
leave the lights on or I’m opening the curtains,’ Mikey insists.

Dylan
ignores him and cranks up his music. He’s listening to She Hates Me by Puddle
of Mudd – on repeat I’d imagine.

‘Hello,’
I say, approaching him with caution, like he’s a bomb that could go off at any
moment. ‘Great song choice. I have Eric Carmen’s All By Myself on my iPod if
you’d prefer it.’

I
gesture at Mikey to turn the music down, and sit myself down on the sofa next
to Dylan. For the first time since we met he doesn’t give me a kiss on the
cheek.

‘Alright,’
he says unenthusiastically. I don’t think it’s a question, but I answer anyway.

‘Yep.
How are you?’

‘Oh
yeah, I’m great,’ he mutters sarcastically. ‘Where are you staying?’