‘How’s your throat?’ Jess asks.
I shrug. ‘Still kind of not great,’ I say noncommittally. How long does it need to be before I start fearing for my career, whether because of my throat or the Benji situation?
‘I’ll make you a honey and lemon,’ Jess says, pulling me gently towards her and wrapping an arm around my shoulder. I breathe in her familiar floral scent, the one she has worn since we were kids and refuses to change because it’s her ‘signature’. When her mum started floating ideas of her choosing something different, more sophisticated, Jess took offence. And so she should – this scentisJess. It’s home. And, right now, being enveloped in roses and lavender is exactly what I need. Emotion wells inside me, swirling like a tornado I struggle to get under control.
I don’t know how there are still tears left in me after all these years.
After all the death.
I can’t escape it. My dad, Grampy, Nana… My cousin when he was just sixteen years old. My aunt, when I was eight. My uncle, mere months ago.
The fan who died while I was touringSweethearts Inside at Nightat a venue with a stupid water policy. The other fan, stabbed moments after I finished the final song on his way out of the stadium with his girlfriend. If we hadn’t been locked inside for the whole of 2020, the future of touring threatened, I’m not sure I would have released my next album. Songwriting and recording were an outlet for me during such a scary time and not knowing whether I’d ever be able to perform live again. Well… it took the pressure off.
I pull away, brushing off her arm and affection before I cry. Again. I take a long sip of water from the bottle I took from Kareem’s car.
‘You okay, chicken pie?’ Jess asks.
I dip my chin. Am I okay? I’ve done this enough times to know that I will be. Eventually.
‘Right, we need to go through the game plan for tonight, first,’ Mimi jumps in.
‘I’ve told Eric that he’s not allowed to ask you about the… situation last night, and I’m lobbying Benji’s agent to make a statement or at the very least plant a story from their side in the papers about how Benji isn’t with his wife – and hasn’t been for a while – and there’s nothing wrong with a bit of fun.’ Jess rolls her eyes.
‘It’s about time Benji and Caro finally tell their fans what literally the entire industry knows,’ Mimi comments.
Jess nods furiously. ‘Obviously that would be a statement for his image, not yours. And you’re the woman here…’ She pulls her hair up off her neck. ‘But a statement from him will allow us a bit more freedom with ours.’
‘I can’t– I don’t understand where it’s come from,’ I point out. ‘I thought everyone knew they weren’t together. Theydon’t live together and haven’t been pictured with each other in over a year.’
‘I think because they’ve never said it themselves, people still have hope.’ Mimi shakes her head.
The world has decided I’m the villain as the woman normally is in this industry. That I’ve broken up one of the world’s most beloved celebrity couples, like they didn’t break themselves up all on their own years ago. And Benji is seeing absolutely no such similar reaction.
‘What happened to Xavier?’ Mimi asks gently.
I have to think for a moment, my brain churning to try to work out who she means, before remembering. ‘Oh, we don’t speak anymore.’
‘Oh, I liked him. What happened there?’ Mimi asks.
Jess hands me a cup of honey and lemon tea.
‘He was very…’ I try to look for the right word, blowing on the beverage. Something that isn’t insulting but also gives the entire impression of what Xavier is like. He’s an actor, had his big break starring in a few ITV crime dramas before moving on to a bigger budget Netflix original series. As far as I’m aware, he’s recently been cast in a big Hollywood blockbuster movie that’s tipped to win big at the Oscars – a movie about cancel culture. It’s very… up his street. ‘Intense,’ I finish.
Dennis and Jess titter in the corner of the room.
‘What’s funny?’ I ask, taking a sip of my tea.
‘Xavier wasn’t intense,’ Jess laughs, lifting her foot so she’s standing on one leg again. ‘He was so laid back he might as well have been horizontal.’
‘Sienna needs someone who literally never wants to see her,’ Dennis laughs.
‘Why do you have to keep acting like this, Sienna?’ Mauve questions.
‘I should be able to do what I want,’ I say grumpily, and I hate the way it makes me sound like a child.
‘You can, Sie, but you need to understand that people aren’t going to, I guess, forgive you as quickly… as they did when you were younger for this… hedonistic lifestyle.’
Mimi’s words seem to take all the air out of the room. I know she’s right – I’ve seen it in the papers and on my tiny phone screen. Horrible words which hurt because they’re true. I do live the life of a young male bachelor. But maybe my days of living my life album-to-album, tour-to-tour, man-to-man need to come to an end.
