I’m always excited for the PAAs because they’re fan-voted, but nervous because of the pressure. I was asked to perform this year, but with the tour schedule, I didn’t know whether I’d be able to make it. I’m so glad I didn’t say yes after all the issues with my voice and Rory’s accident.
I was so close to not coming. But Rory told me I had to go.
And Mimi’s orders were clear: be seen with Luc as much and as publicly as you can. So here we are… flying to New York.
The doors open and we climb down the stairs into the oppressive New Jersey heat.
The airfield is empty, except for someone who works here unloading the belly of the plane, piling our luggage ontrolleys to push through the airport to the rental cars. Luc pushes our trolley for me through the small passport control station. We all show our ESTAs and tell the police officers what we’re here for, and why we’ve used a private airfield.
Kareem drives the large car – maybe it would actually count as a minibus? I’m exhausted and kind of hungry, but also kind of not. My appetite completely fails me whenever I cross time zones, and I never know when to eat.
I want to lay down on the bed with a cold bottle of water and have a quick nap before I get ready. I’m salivating at the thought of a fluffy pillow and plush duvet, with the air conditioning as cold as it will go.
The car is silent, everyone disassociating after eight hours of being sat in the same spot. I shut my eyes, knowing I won’t sleep in an unfamiliar car. At least it blocks out the journey through the Lincoln Tunnel and into the busy, blazing hot city.
When we pull up outside the hotel, Dennis gets out the car first before opening the back door. I climb out to screams and flashing cameras, pulling my hat down and pushing my sunglasses up. My legs feel weak from such little use. Luc climbs over the seats in the back of the car and gets out after me, his hand landing on the bottom of my back, guiding me through the screaming crowds, the flashing lights, into the hotel lobby. Kareem drives off to find a parking space.
Our luggage is loaded onto one of the trolleys, and a worker follows us up in the lift. I always stay in this hotel – I know their security is good and I like their room service. They always give Dennis the room next door, and I hope Jess won’t be too far away. James and Dina are also staying after flying out earlier this week to make it into a bit of a holiday – I didn’t need them while I was so busy with tour rehearsals.
Our lift keeps going up, skipping past some of the middle floors before landing on the forty-second. Luc and I aredropped off at our suite first, and Luc takes our luggage off the trolley.
As soon as we open the door with the keycard, Luc’s mouth drops. ‘This is the biggest hotel room I’ve ever seen.’
The room is huge, he’s right. When we walk in, we’re in the main living area – a small kitchenette, and a large sofa in front of a flat-screen tele. I follow Luc around the suite as his mouth gapes. The bedroom has a super-sized king bed with a huge wardrobe and a vanity table. In the bathroom, there’s a shower, as well as a bath which doubles up as a hot tub and his and hers sinks.
I sink into the feather-down duvet on the bed, still fully clothed, my shoes still on my feet, but hanging off the edge. Luc takes his shoes off before he sinks down next to me.
‘Nap,’ I grumble. ‘Now.’
The tiredness from the journey overcomes me. It’s already five o’clock. I know I need to eat but I also need to get ready. I know a nap isn’t a good idea, but if I don’t, I will need pins to keep my eyes open for the rest of the night.
The red carpet pre-show starts at six o’clock. I think I’m currently scheduled to arrive at quarter to eight. The show is only a few blocks away, so I don’t need to leave until, maybe, half-past seven?
‘I think you can probably take a twenty-minute power nap before Dina and James arrive.’ Luc pauses. ‘You probably need to eat though.’
I groan louder, trying to pull myself up off the bed.
‘It’s okay.’ Luc hesitates for a few seconds before leaning in and brushing a kiss on my lips. That rule is way out the window now. ‘I’ll go and find you some food while you sleep.’
He must be exhausted.
My eyes flutter open what must be twenty minutes later to Luc standing in the doorway to the bedroom, a huge box of pizza hanging off the end of his arm.
‘I went for a margarita,’ he tells me. ‘I’ve always wanted a New York pizza.’
I pull my head off the pillow.
Luc points to the living room. ‘Did I see there was a full-sized fridge in the living room?’
‘You went outside.’
‘I did. I’ve never been to New York – wanted to see at least some of it before we have to leave.’
‘We’ll come back.’ I say it without thinking. Without forcing myself to remember this arrangement between us ends in a matter of weeks, which simultaneously makes my heart sink, and my brain rejoice.
A knock on the door. I find myself surprisingly refreshed after only twenty minutes, rather than worse, like I normally do after a nap. A second knock comes, and Luc opens it for me. Dina and James trail in.
James is carrying my outfit for the night, which was flown over in the jet, on its own chair. The brief I gave the designer was simply a colour palette: the pinks and oranges of theYour Email Didn’t Find Me Wellalbum.
