“I do like him,” I whispered. “I like him so much it’s crazy. Insane, right? It doesn’t make any sense. How can I feel like this about a guy I’ve never even seen?”
But there was no answer. Chelsea was already sound asleep.
I was up first, pottering around the kitchen when Chelsea surfaced. She didn’t look so hot, her extensions a matted blonde mess around her face, and streaks of mascara still plastered to her cheeks.
“I feel like death,” she groaned.
I handed her a mug of coffee while she scrolled through her phone. I’d already checked mine. Nothing from Jason. I wished I wasn’t as disappointed as I felt.
Chelsea’s fingers were frantic on her handset, eyes turning to saucers. “Oh my fucking God.”
“What?”
She shoved the phone at me. “Claudia Lancett’s been pinging me all fucking morning.”
“And?” I quizzed, trying to make sense of the image in front of me.
“And, that’s me on that photo.”
I could see her blonde extensions, her pink dress, the same one she was wearing right now. “In Kings?”
“Yes!”
I took a closer look. She had her arms wrapped around someone, his hands on her shoulders as she practically chewed his face off. It looked intense. “That’s him, then?” He was blurry, but I guessed it was obvious if you knew who you were looking for. “Timely snap. You look cosy.”
“They’re all talking about me, all of them. Claudia, and Melanie and that bitch Anthea Reynolds who models for Diva.”
“Let them talk,” I groaned. “Who cares.”
“I care,” she said, and she was smiling. “They all want to know how I pulled Jason Redfern. Little nobody Chelsea, pulling the superstar Singers’ defender. Jesus, Gemma, I’m the talk of London. The picture’s trending on Twitter.” She downed her coffee and grabbed her things, smoothing her extensions in the mirror and slapping on a fresh layer of foundation. “Gotta go.”
“What’s put a rocket up your ass?” I laughed. “You haven’t even put your lipstick on.”
“Meeting up with the girls for lunch.”
The girls. The same girls she’d been crying over the night before, bemoaning how spiteful and nasty and snidey they were with her at auditions.
“Really? You want to hang around with those bitches?”
“They aren’t bitches.” She rolled her eyes. “I was just drunk.”
I rolled mine right back. “Sure you were.”
“I was.”
“Whatever you say,” I smiled. “At least stay for toast or something.”
“Nah, I’ll catch you later. Thanks for last night, you’re the best.”
Clearly not. Clearly Claudia Lancett and her gaggle of witches are the best. I bit my tongue.
Turns out I’d be biting it a whole lot longer.
Jason
“What the holy fuck is this, Jason? You stupid fucking asshole!”
April launched herself on the bed at me, slapping at my face as I jolted to consciousness. I grabbed her wrists, pulling her tight to me, close enough to wrench the phone from her fingers. “What the fuck are you doing?! What the fuck are you talking about?!”
I scrolled through the news article, some fucking shitty tabloid spouting shit, but then there was me, a blurry picture of me as Gemma’s silly blonde friend attempted to snog my face off. Pissing hell.
“This isn’t how it looks.”
“It never is!” she spat. “Who the fuck is she?”
“Just some girl. I pushed her away. Seriously, April, I was home before two. Alone. She was just some girl I helped out in the queue.”
“And she helped herself in return, did she? I’m not fucking stupid, Jason.”
“She thought I was interested, that’s all. Whole thing was a fucking embarrassment.”
“You’re the fucking embarrassment, Jason. You’ve made a fool out of me yet again!”
I groaned and pulled a pillow over my face. “This is bullshit. Another fucking tabloid piece of bullshit.”
“You’re fucking kissing her!”
“She’s kissing me. I was pushing her away.”
“Doesn’t fucking look like it!”
“Never fucking does.”
“Why did you help the silly bitch?”
I sighed. “Bouncers turned her away.”
“Why?!”
My heart pounded. “She had a friend with her, who didn’t meet their stupid fucking dress code. I was helping them out, and the blonde took it the wrong way. I pushed her away and came home. End of drama.”
April chewed her manicured nails, which is never a good sign. “This is going to fucking ruin us, Jason. We’ll be a fucking laughing stock. You’re a stupid, selfish sonofabitch, you know that? A weasily piece of fucking shit. Helping out some stupid little slags in a fucking club somewhere, and look where it’s got you, asshole. You’re so fucking stupid!”