Four days a week, I was up at the crack of dawn with OJ, my new personal trainer, a former weightlifting champion with a lilting Kiwi accent. She had a gentle smile that came out when she spoke about her wife – and whenever she mentioned the many failings of my muscular structure, which she called ‘skinny-fat’.
‘You look skinny, but it’s misleading because you have no muscle tone,’ she said. No-one else would have got away with that, but she softened the blow with a reassuring pat on my shoulder. ‘We’re gonna make you strong.’
I’d never been one for sport, but I liked being up early, the way the morning felt like a secret. Sam came with me some days, but Carter and Richie were out too late every night to get up in time to join us. Sometimes, when we got back to the flat after training, I’d catch a bleary-eyed girl hobbling out of the house in last night’s heels, and hope she was Richie’s.
The day the single came out, Sam and I were in the kitchen, drinking our post-workout coffee and nervously waiting for Amir’s call. When it came through, I exhaled slowly before I answered.
‘Lily!’ His voice was ecstatic. ‘You bloody did it!’
Sam looked at me from the corner of his eye. ‘She did?’
‘You all did,’ said Amir, clearly realising he was on speaker. ‘Number one! For a debut! It’s virtually unheard of, especially in this day and age. Jen is actually smiling, can you believe it?’
She wasn’t the only one. My own incredulous grin was mirrored in Sam’s as he hugged me. My mind flashed to an image of the four of us onstage at the Supernova awards, thanking our friends and family, before I stopped myself from even daring to dream of it. ‘Oh, wow,’ I got out.
‘This is it, Lily. This is what we’ve been banking on! It’s what we needed to prove to Jen you’re worth a second single. An album! A tour! It’s only upwards from here. Onwards, and upwards!’
My heart was still singing as I went into Carter’s room and leapt onto the bed, oblivious to the stagnant smell of beer and sweat. He was awake, but barely. ‘What ...?’ He smiled when he saw me, his face inches from mine, misinterpreting the hell out of this. ‘Hello.’
Oh, god. I clambered off him and hovered awkwardly beside the bed. He lay back against the pillows, apparently not worried that he was nearly naked. I tried to ignore the warmth coming off his smooth chest. ‘The single, Carter. “King Cutie”. It’s number one!’
He yawned. ‘Oh, Jimi, of course it is.’ But then it sank in and he grinned at me. ‘Of course it bloody is!’
I called Dad with the news. Ever since he’d allowed me to stay in England, our weekly calls were cagey and I knew he still hadn’t forgiven me for missing my flight, but he let all that slide when I told him about the song. He’d given me six months to make it, and I’d done it in much less time – we all had. When the single came on the radio in Sydney, Phoenix sent me a video of their victory dance around their bedroom, and my thoughts went to Ellie – if it was getting airplay back home, what would she think of it?
•
It might have been a rainy evening outside, but inside the Full English studios it was always mid-morning. Bright lights cast everything in sterile high-def. After nailing the song on national TV, the four of us squashed onto a couch shaped like a pursed mouth.
‘I gotta tell you,’ said the orange-haired presenter, waving his freckled hands around, ‘that song is everywhere right now. Can you tell us a bit about the inspiration behind it?’
Amir had given us a list of questions yesterday that had seemed pretty straightforward, but now that we were lit up like a window display in front of a live audience, it wasn’t so easy to answer them. Carter was right next to me, his thigh pressed against mine. I forced myself to look away from him, which unfortunately meant looking out at the audience as they waited for my answer. My lips tasted of inch-deep lipstick, and I smoothed a crease in a rose-print skirt I would never have chosen for myself.
Sam answered, rescuing me from the world’s longest pause, and I tried to throw him a grateful smile, but my hair flopped over my face.
‘And so, Lily ... I’m assuming this was written about a specific person?’ asked the presenter, fingering one of his rings. What was his name again? Chris, or Clive, or something. ‘Has he heard the track?’
Maybe-Clive was watching me so closely that I had to look away. I picked at a stray thread on my skirt, the material bunching slightly as I pulled it, and wished the confidence I’d felt playing the song had carried over to the couch. ‘Yes, he’s heard it,’ I squeaked. ‘But I don’t think he knows it’s about him.’
The audience laughed like I’d really been making a joke and I slid back against the couch. Behind the nearest cameraman, Amir looked alarmed.
‘And I mean, it’s so catchy, and it sounds so fresh – did you have any idea it was going to be a hit when you wrote it?’ the presenter asked.
What kind of a question was that? My hair fell forwards like a curtain.
‘Well, yeah, actually. When Lily first showed up with the beginnings of it, we knew it was good,’ said Carter, poking me in the ribs.
‘We had no idea it was going to be our first single, though,’ Sam added. ‘I mean, we just can’t believe we’re here.’ He smiled at the audience. I could feel his generosity reflected back at him, but I still couldn’t look at all the people.
‘Is that how you guys write your songs?’ Clive asked. ‘Lily, are you the main writer and then the other three add their input?’
Carter was staring at the cameraman as though daring him to zoom in on me. I couldn’t think of a graceful way to both tell the truth and appease Carter. The question fell into an awkward silence, with Richie openly glaring at me and Clive waiting impatiently. He sounded exasperated when he asked the next question.
‘So, Lily, our viewers want to know – are you single?’
I blushed again, hyper-aware of the sizeable audience, the cameras, and Carter’s raised eyebrow. There had been nothing in Amir’s coaching about how to deflect questions like that. I thought about Ellie, how lonely I’d been after our break-up. ‘Erm. That’s a little … forward,’ I mumbled.
‘What?’ he said, leaning in to hear me better. The audience laughed again – this time, they were laughing at me.
‘Sammy’s the monogamous one,’ Carter interrupted. ‘The rest of us … we’re more …’ He winked out at the audience. ‘Fluid.’
Speak for yourself, I wanted to say, but it would only draw attention to me – or worse, the audience might laugh again.
Luckily, Clive finally seemed to realise he wasn’t going to get much out of me, and turned to the others. ‘So, Sam, what does your girlfriend think of all this?’
‘Oh, she’s our biggest fan,’ he said. ‘We wouldn’t be here without her. She suggested we put our videos online, and that’s how we got discovered, so ...’ Offstage, Amir was frantically gesturing for him to stop speaking. ‘I mean, all our families, our friends, they’ve all been so supportive,’ he finished vaguely.
Supportive wasn’t exactly the right word for everyone. Jack had been thrilled for me, and Phoenix was my own personal cheer squad, but there had been radio silence from Ellie. I wanted to give her some space, hoping that in time she’d forgive me and we could be friends again, so I hadn’t contacted her, either. Sometimes the silence was deafening.
•
‘What happened in there?’ Amir was pacing around the make-up room. ‘Lily, you totally clammed up. You’re such a confident girl onstage, but put you in front of a studio audience and you’re a tortoise with its head in its shell.’
‘I just wasn’t expecting it to be so weird.’
Carter started taking off his make-up, glaring at his reflection. I reached for the wet wipes, but Saskia batted my hand away.
‘Keep yours on,’ she said. ‘Someone might want to snap a photo.’
‘Who’d want a photo of me?’
Richie sniggered his agreement.
‘Especially after that little routine,’ said Amir snarkily, and my shame burned.
‘The song was good,’ said Saskia, shooting him a look.
‘Yes, you guys have that down,’ Amir agreed, calming down a bit. ‘The performance was great.’
Sam rolled his eyes. ‘That wasn’t a performance. When are we going to play a real show?’
Amir patted his shoulder. ‘All in the fullness of time. At least we know when you do play a full show, you’ll nail it.’
Carter was still pouting at the mirror.
‘And what’s the matter with you?’ said Sam. He was really wound up, despite his excellent interview technique. ‘It’s almost like you don’t have a hit single out.’
‘Does everyone think Lady Stardust is Liliana’s stage name and we’re just her backup band?’ asked Carter.
‘Don’t be stupid,’ I said. His skin was glowing with moisture from the wipe. I wanted to touch his arm, but I was too much of a coward. ‘No-one thinks that.’
‘Chris Ferguson thinks that,’ he retorted. ‘The whole studio audience of Full English thinks that.’
So it was Chris after all. I tried to remember if I had accidentally called him Clive.
‘People need a focal point to identify with the band,’ said Amir. ‘Lily is that focal point right now, but it’s just while we’re establishing you. You mustn’t worry too much about it.’ He moved smoothly on. ‘Now, we need to talk about your personal lives. No mentioning girlfriends in interviews, please.’ He knocked Carter’s arm in a faux-jokey move. ‘I know that’s not likely to be a problem for you.’
‘Why can’t I mention Tish?’ said Sam. ‘We’re not supposed to tell the truth now?’
‘It’s more about … smoothing over the details. We don’t want anyone to be disappointed.’
‘Who’d be disappointed that Sam has a girlfriend?’ I said.
Sam shoved me. ‘Charming.’
‘No – I mean … it’s not like they’d have a chance with you anyway, even if you were single,’ I said. ‘You’re not going to date someone in that audience.’
‘This is the business of selling dreams,’ said Amir. ‘Reality doesn’t really come into it.’