I Knew You Were Trouble

Chapter Six

‘Before the show, the boys do a meet-and-greet. I’ve printed off a bunch of consent forms for the ticket holders in Japanese, so whilst you’re filming I can get them signed. They’re providing a couple of translators anyway. The support act goes on at seven.’

Meredith keeps talking. I’m impressed by her level of knowledge and organisition. I watch out of the window of the people carrier, the air hazy. It rained all afternoon, but we all took a nap. We are approaching the Tokyo Dome, where the Rebel Heart show is due to start at eight p.m. I look across at Duncan next to me, who has a faraway look in his eye.

‘Who’s the support again?’ I ask.

‘Tonight, it’s a local Japanese band called Kyoto Smile. All the support acts for the tour will be from the home country.’

‘Thank you, Mer, you’ve been amazing help so far.’

‘I think Ziggy’s only just realised I have a direct line to the people at Silverpix, so he’s going out of his way to be helpful.’

‘Well let’s try and keep it that way.’ I look to Duncan. ‘You okay?’

He gives a shrug and rubs his stubble. ‘We’re filming a boy band. How hard can it be?’

‘Did you bring the spare memory cards?’

He nods.

‘Both gimbals? Panel lights?’

‘Lex. Relax. We’re gonna be fine.’

‘I don’t know why I’m nervous. I’m used to up close and personal. But this subject matter is new to me.’

Duncan reaches across and squeezes my hand, offering me a reassuring smile.

The first time I met Duncan, we’d been set up on a blind date in London’s Soho. At the time, I had no idea he would be about three years younger than me. We worked in the same industry, and my colleagues were keen for me to find a boyfriend, since I’d had very few serious relationships. From the start, I believe he liked me more than I did him. I always worried that this would affect our friendship later on. I suppose I’ve been too scared to ask. I was the one who broke up with him – after just shy of a year of going out – yet I always made it clear I wanted to remain friends.

‘You’ve nothing to worry about,’ he says. ‘They’re lucky to have you, remember, not the other way around. Thank you , I mouth.

In the bowels of the Tokyo Dome stadium, I wait near a line of excitable Japanese girls and their parents, a camera in my hand, three separate luminous lanyards looped around my neck. Together with his own lanyards, Duncan is on the other side of the room wearing his equipment vest, using the more expensive camera with a gimbal and our best-quality indoor microphones. We set up some LED lights at floor level. Duncan looks relaxed, still chewing gum, his usual reliable self, and the tallest man in the room. It doesn’t escape my attention that occasionally his eyes flit across to Meredith, Meredith who has cheerfully zoomed through the consent forms, actively using the translator, ensuring we have consent to film from every individual in the small crowd. Upbeat seems to be Meredith’s only setting. The room is constructed from dull, grey breeze blocks, yet the anticipation in the air is almost electric. I look over the faces of the waiting crowd, all of them with their phones at the ready, a lot of red lipstick, the mothers (and the odd father) in sleek coats. The smiles of the younger girls conceal raging hormones underneath, posters and books of Rebel Heart ready to be signed.

I yawn. It’s been the longest day, and it’s not even close to being over. Whilst we wait, Meredith wanders over to me.

‘Tell me what’s going on with the band,’ I say, trying to keep myself awake. ‘Like what’s on the agenda right now?’

‘Right now? Well, they’re all learning the lyrics for “Gangnam Style”.’

‘Why Gangnam? I mean… it’s kind of cheesy. If they’re going to tackle K-pop, why not perform something more current?’

Meredith breaks out into a grin. ‘Like… Lexi, did you live under a rock for years or something? How have you not seen the video?’

‘What video?’

‘Cal’s viral video. It’s on YouTube. It has, like, a gazillion views.’

I look blank. Meredith laughs again and gives a sigh at my ignorance, like she’s been tasked with explaining basic maths to a reluctant child. ‘When they were filming the final of the reality show in LA, about six years ago, someone in Cal’s family sent a home video to the press. It shows him when he’s about ten years old, wearing only his underwear and a pair of sunglasses, dancing around his living room in Bondi and singing “Gangnam Style” into a hairbrush. But, like, he’d learned all the Korean lyrics. It’s hilarious. At the time, he was really embarrassed, but it made people vote for him. Ever since then, the fans have been trying to get the boys to perform the track. So, the plan is to perform it in Korea, in the Korean language, when no one expects them to actually do it. It’s the opening number for the Seoul shows. But don’t tell anyone; it’s like this big secret.’

I blink at her, wondering if she’s actually telling me the truth. ‘Sounds like Cal is the showman of the group.’

‘Totally. And to think the judges didn’t even want him to make it.’

‘And what about the “Shame About My Face” song? What’s happening with that?’

‘They’ve filmed ninety per cent of the video already. It’s a one-off release, not on any album yet. It’s not really an album kind of a song.’

‘And it’s a song about the infamous tweet? The one the girl in New York wrote about Cal?’

‘It’s not just about Bianca Lawson’s tweet. The boys all wrote it together. It’s about valuing beauty over substance. It’s a great song. But they’re behind on the video, hence they have to shoot the remainder over in Seoul, because the release is due soon, whilst they’re in Australia.’

When the boys enter the room, there is screaming. Meredith warned me about the shrieking that follows Rebel Heart everywhere they go, but to my ears, it’s on quite another level to what I’d anticipated. Duncan and I exchange glances, silently chalking it up as another thing we are going to have to get used to.

I watch the boys carefully, mainly through the viewfinder. Despite the initial screaming, the meet-and-greet is tame, passing without a hitch, the boys all smiles and hugs, signing their names on posters, taking photographs, putting their arms around complete strangers and grinning for the camera. I watch, a little stunned, as Aidan behaves like a gentleman, all smiles and perfect teeth. He wears a backwards cap, jeans and a T-shirt, making him look younger than he did on our walk this morning. The walk that seems like a lifetime ago.

By the time the show is set to begin, together with Duncan, I’ve set myself up underneath the main stage, where, it soon becomes apparent, the boys are set to be raised up through coffin-shaped holes into the centre of the arena.

Underneath the stage is quickly swarmed with unfamiliar faces. When I see Rebel Heart gathered in the far distance, I bring Duncan further towards me, indicating he should gently move back as they approach. In front of me, with raging screams above my head, I watch as they fall into a loose formation, Aidan on one side, Caleb in the centre. Their clothing is identical: black military-style boots, baggy black parachute pants, bare chests with black, open overcoats over the top, wide collars raised up, stage make-up and live vocal mics. When they come to a halt, metres from my camera lens, I’m struck by the singular focus exhibited by all of them. That the deafening screams above their heads seem to bounce off them like rubber bullets, their faces calm, almost impassive. When they huddle together, I indicate to Duncan that he should circle them with the camera. I hope the mic is powerful enough to pick up what’s being said. When the boys finally raise their heads, they fan out, taking positions on raised platforms marked with yellow and black hazard tape on the concrete floor. Ravi comes my way, offering me a grin into my lens. I glance over at Aidan, trying not to notice his sculpted chest, and glorious abs. My lens drops as I catch myself staring. Fortunately, he doesn’t seem to notice, his focus on what is about to take place.

Upstairs, the music has shifted into a kind of rumble. The screams increase in volume, if that’s even possible. I glance over at Meredith, who has paused to push a pair of ear plugs into her ears, like she knows what’s coming. The boys all raise their right arms, a sound man on a walkie-talkie barking orders that their mics are ready to be switched on.

Moments later, I am filming as the boys are raised to the stage, met with screams loud enough to raise the roof. A resounding beat starts up. I look to Duncan, pointing upwards. Inexplicably, I’m eager to get upstairs to watch the show.

The after-party is taking place at a club in central Shibuya, known as ‘Womb’, on the opposite side of the Meiji Shrine to the hotel. I glance across at Duncan as we enter a bar area cordoned off with a velvet rope, on a balcony overlooking the main dance floor below. The stairs are watched over by two security guards whose job it is to check all entrants have the right credentials, everything bathed in neon blue light. Duncan and I are both wearing spy cameras concealed inside our clothing, cameras I’m well-versed in using for my previous documentary projects. My plan had been to use them in sweatshops, not inside a Tokyo nightclub where champagne and fresh sushi circulates on trays held by polished hostesses in mini dresses.

‘I’m not sure why Meredith felt the need to go back and get changed.’ I raise my voice at Duncan over the throb of club beats, after he’s failed to order a beer from a passing waitress and instead helped himself to a couple of salmon maki from a platter. I help myself to a glass of champagne and we linger at the bar, with a wide view of the seating area.

‘Probably wants to impress the band,’ Duncan says with his mouth full. ‘You know, make one of them her boyfriend.’

I screw up my face. ‘She seems a little too strait-laced for that. Don’t you think?’

‘What you asking me for?’

‘Because. As usual, apart from Meredith, you’re pretty much the only person I can talk to on this trip. Plus, I’ve seen you staring at her a few times.’

‘Shut the hell up. You have not.’

In the dim light it’s impossible to tell if he’s blushing. His body language suggests he’s uncomfortable. I tilt my head from side to side, trying to sound encouraging. ‘What? She’s single… you’re single…’

A barman delivers his beer and Duncan downs the first half of the bottle in one swig. ‘You’re a pure goon, man. I haven’t had one single thought about Meredith.’

A wave of awkwardness washes over me. ‘Dunc—’

‘Aye?’

‘You’re not… I mean…’

He looks away, embarrassed. I think I see him wince as he masks it by swallowing more beer. ‘You know I love working with you. But that’s all,’ he says. ‘I mean… if you’d have had me, maybe things would be different. But I know you, Lex. You don’t let any guy get too close.’

Our conversation is cut short by the band’s arrival. There is a commotion to my right. The boys are all freshly showered, hair still damp, and changed out of their concert clothes. Ziggy’s making a fuss of them, shooing away some of the girls I recognise as being the backing dancers from the concert. Miller has grabbed one of the girls by the hand and is already leading her away to a darker corner of the bar area. Cal has settled into one of the sofas with two Japanese girls, one of whom I recognise from the previous evening. While J.B. talks to Ziggy, Ravi stands with the young South-Asian guy from the hotel from earlier. When my gaze drifts to Aidan, I find he’s already looking my way, hands tucked into the front pocket of his hoodie, dark hair falling into his eyes. He offers me a simple nod. I return the nod, without smiling, and wonder if this is the sign of a truce between us.

‘You wanna watch him,’ Duncan says in a low tone.

‘Apparently he’s my nemesis.’

‘You’re not careful, he could mess this up for you. I asked around. Boy’s got influence. Watch your back.’

‘What do you suggest? Try to make peace?’

He takes another drink. ‘Maybe try and keep him on side. That might grease the wheels for us a bit. Wouldn’t wanna give him the wrong idea, mind. Eejit’s probably used to the lassies throwing themselves at him all the time.’

I glance over at Aidan. He’s now bending Ziggy’s ear. ‘Definitely no risk of me doing that. The lassies are all welcome to him.’

Duncan fails to conceal his smile, sipping the last of his bottle of beer.

‘What?’ I ask.

‘Nothing. Just wondering when you’re gonna let a fella pay you some attention.’

‘What’s that got to do with anything? We’re talking about Aidan McArthur here.’

‘It’s funny, that’s all. Trust you to make an enemy of one of the most lusted after fellas on the planet.’

‘I don’t see it.’

‘Aye,’ Duncan sighs, winking at me. ‘You never do.’

I ignore him. ‘Meredith’s here,’ I blurt, seeing Meredith enter the bar, having changed into a low-cut black dress and boots. She definitely looks the part in smoky eye make-up. I tilt my head at Duncan, indicating that he should provide the new arrival with some company. ‘Alright, I’m going,’ Duncan grumbles, getting off his chair. ‘But don’t think it means anything, right?’

Whilst he goes one way, I go the other, pushing through the growing crowd and seeking out Aidan, but ending up in front of Ziggy, who tonight wears a jacket over a different tour T-shirt and is sipping on a bottle of Sapporo beer. The lounge area is now heaving and I’ve lost Duncan altogether.

Ziggy leans towards me. ‘Something you need?’ he asks.

‘I just wanted to say that I’m not here to cause problems,’ I shout back over the din.

‘Then don’t cause any,’ he says. ‘Do what you need to do and don’t disrupt the balance, eh?’

‘I wanted to ask why you think Aidan is so upset that I’m here?’

Ziggy rocks back on his heels, drinking his beer. ‘Overprotective, that one. Keep tryna tell him he can’t control everything. Them lads could have imploded after a few years of this business. But they held fast. Didn’t let it get to their heads. Aidan is a big part of the reason for that.’

He’s waving his bottle around as he speaks. I look around the crowd, attempting to spot any member of Rebel Heart.

I excuse myself, walking back towards Duncan, sitting on a sofa with Meredith, a wide gulf between them, like they’re on a bad date. Meredith’s gaze flits towards Miller, who is sat nearby and deep into kissing the dancer he led away earlier, his hand grazing the girl’s thigh.

Duncan leaps to his feet on seeing me approach. ‘I’m gonna head back to the hotel. Jet lag’s killing me,’ he says. ‘Could do with some kip.’

‘You don’t think you should stay with Meredith?’

‘She’s your assistant, you stay with her. She’s not a wain.’

‘I was going to try and find Aidan.’

‘He’s over there.’

He nods his head towards one corner of the bar. Aidan’s talking to J.B., the latter leaning up against a wall.

‘You’ll be alright?’ Duncan asks.

‘I’ll be fine. You go.’

Duncan bids me goodnight. I look to Meredith, checking she’s alright. She grants me a smile but I sense something is off with her. One of the dancers takes a seat next to her, so I decide to take my chance and work my way around the backs of the sofas to get to Aidan.

J.B. gives me a big grin as I approach. Aidan looks to the floor.

‘You do not have a drink, Lexi,’ J.B. hums at me in his delicious French accent.

I look down at my empty glass of champagne. ‘I drank it,’ I say limply.

‘Let me get you a new one,’ J.B. responds, taking my empty glass from my hand.

When he’s gone, Aidan won’t look at me. He glances over my shoulder, perhaps trying to see how fast he can get away, before working his fingers through his still damp hair.

‘I feel like you and I got off on the wrong foot,’ I say in a raised voice, stepping a fraction closer.

He gives a shrug. ‘I just don’t trust you all that much,’ he replies in a steady tone.

I gape at him. ‘Wow. What exactly have I ever done to you? I’m sorry I wasn’t as honest with you as I might have been. I’ve apologised for that.’

I stare up at him. Okay, so the fangirls have got a point. Up close he’s even more striking. ‘I came to try and make peace with you,’ I add stiffly. ‘Maybe not here, but tomorrow.’

‘Take a walk with me,’ he says, close to my ear.

‘Tomorrow?’ I ask.

‘No, now. I wanna see the Shibuya Crossing.’

I look around me, wondering if I’ve misheard. ‘Are you allowed?’

He gives a smirk. ‘I’m not in school.’

‘But Ziggy—’

‘Nah, he’ll be fine with it. I don’t need permission.’

‘I don’t know—’

‘You ever stood on the Shibuya Crossing?’

‘No.’

‘Then now’s your chance.’

I look around, remembering I’m wearing a concealed camera. ‘But how?’

‘I noticed a hotel downstairs, right next door to this place. I’ll meet you there in the lobby in ten minutes. Come on. You wanna make peace with me, then come on a walk with me.’

He looks down at me with a jaunty smile. My stomach flips over. I glance over at Ziggy. Grease the wheels , I think, and sweat breaks out on my upper lip.

‘Alright,’ I say. ‘Downstairs. Ten minutes.’