‘Don’t worry. I’ll mind it for you. I’ll even wipe down these gorgeous leather seats if Cindy agrees to have sex in it later.’ Clearly, he’s nowhere near done winding me up yet.
Sex is at the forefront of my mind since I’ve been reunited with Sasha Sexton. During the day, I manage to focus on the emotion, on the songs. At night, all I can focus on is the fact she’s metres away from me, possibly naked.
Jayden mistakes my groan of frustration for irritation.
‘Hey, bro, you know I’m only joking. Besides, Cindy and I aren’t having sex at the moment. She’s still punishing me for not going to her parents’ beach house. I think it’s over, but I haven’t got round to having the conversation yet. Hey, maybe she’ll give me one for old times’ sake. You know the “I really hate you and I’m totally glad we’re separating, but let’s have one final dirty goodbye shag to make sure”.’
‘For fuck’s sake, Jay.’ I shake my head again, open the sliding doors and step out into the crisp November night. The castle’s Christmas lights are as spectacular as ever; Sasha’s really outdone herself with this display. It’s far more extravagant than I remember her parents ever executing; the purely white and silver lights add a rich touch of class. It’s a far cry from the tacky flashing Christmas trees of my childhood. And of LA.
‘So, how’s it going in the Emerald Isle?’ he says before swearing and beeping his horn – my horn. I wince and try not to think about it.
‘It’s going well.’ Apart from the swift, harsh emotional awakening and my Sasha-induced blue balls, but he doesn’t need to know that.
‘Manage to write anything yet?’ He sounds about as optimistic as a pig en route to the abattoir.
‘Actually, yes.’ I send up a silent thank you to the clear midnight sky above.
‘Seriously?’
‘Yep. Check your email. I’ve sent you a couple of videos, for your eyes only, of course.’
I imagine him rolling his eyes heavenwards. He might be an arrogant, Ferrari-stealing douche, but he’s my brother and I trust him with my life. Besides, his career’s riding on this as much as mine. A leak would deem my work financially worthless.
‘How many are we talking?’ He’s yet to shake the scepticism from his tone.
‘Eight, so far. I’m working on another right now, but I needed a break.’
A couple below stroll hand in hand through the manicured lawn, admiring the lights and sights. A ripple of envy whips through me. I haven’t had a girlfriend since Sasha, not a proper one anyway. There were a few staged efforts in the early years to up my profile but never anything meaningful. It never occurred to me to care, until now.
‘Eight? Holy fucking shit, man!’ He beeps the horn again but this time it sounds three times in a triumphant symphony. ‘At this rate, you’ll be home by next week.’
Home. The word is so subjective.
Though I love the climate in LA this time of year, I’ve never felt truly at home there. And especially not at Christmas. Christmases are meant to be cold. Spent snuggling with loved ones round a roaring fire, not tucked between two models I don’t know or care about.
Which is probably why I’m the songwriter and Jay is the agent. Underneath the hard exterior, I’m a soft shite, whereas Jay’s arrogant assertiveness is likely his true personality. If he has a softer side, he’s yet to show it to the world.
‘You know, this still kind of feels like home.’ I run my fingers across the top of the glass balustrade, swiping the silvery frost and pinching it between my index finger and thumb. Its damp chill is sharp on my skin but it makes me feel alive. Being here makes me feel alive.
‘You know I’m Irish, through and through, but would I swap my life in the sun for the damp dreary mist and rain of our motherland? Not in a million fucking years.’
‘I quite like it.’
‘Oh oh. Does this have something to do with that girl you used to fuck?’
‘Oh come on, Jay, have a bit of respect!’
‘Ha! I knew it! Tell me, are you fucking her again? You are! Course you are! What woman in their right mind would turn down Hollywood’s hottest bachelor? You did see you’re on the front cover ofGQthis month ahead of the Vegas concerts?’
‘No, I’m not fucking her. Do you have to be so obscene, man?’ My own mind is perfectly capable of being obscene enough without Jayden adding fuel to the fire. ‘And no, I didn’t see it. You know I hate the media.’
‘So, what’s the deal then?’
‘There is no deal. I’ve barely got near her.’ A sigh of frustration disappears into the night with the steam from my breath. Yesterday I thought she might… I thought we might… I almost kissed her but then she bolted.
‘You know what you need, brother?’ Jayden voice drops, like he’s about to let me in on some worldly secret.
I do know what I need – she’s about five-foot-six, with an ass to die for and about as much love for me as a soggy shit stuck to her shoe, but I don’t tell him that. ‘Go on, enlighten me.’
