I Knew You Were Trouble

Chapter Nine

In my hotel room, I’m pacing. My fourth call to Ziggy has gone unanswered.

When he finally calls me back, I find it hard to keep my frustration in check.

‘Where is everyone?’ I demand. ‘How can I be expected to film if I don’t even know where you are?’

‘We’re finishing the “Shame About My Face” video,’ he informs me. ‘We’re somewhere north-west of Seoul. You don’t need to film this. I didn’t mention we were doing it today because it ain’t part of the tour. It’s the last segment of their video that we’re scrambling to get finished on time. There’re too many people up here as it is.’

I look to the ceiling, the picture in my mind of Vaughn Hererra’s angry face. I remember now that Ziggy told me about this, back in Japan, and I should have paid more attention. ‘Ziggy, I don’t mean to sound rude, but it’s not up to you what I choose, or not choose to film. A little variety will give colour to the documentary. It’s a snapshot of a specific time. Non-stop footage of the boys rehearsing and performing is only entertaining for so long.’

There is a crash in the background. Ziggy shouts at someone. Moments later, his voice is back on the line. ‘Look, the lads are all knackered, the director’s not happy, it’s not goin’ to plan,’ he continues. ‘Miller’s already fallen off a car… Aidan’s got a busted shoulder… We’re gonna be here longer than expected. You cannot film anything today.’

The next thing I hear out of the loudspeaker is, ‘Playback!’ Then, from a separate set of speakers somewhere, the audio version of the track blasts out.

‘And… action!’

I press my fingers to the bridge of my nose. ‘I’m not afraid to call Silverpix if we can’t reach an agreement.’

There’s some rustling. He seems to be walking, the sound in the background moving further away. ‘Look,’ Ziggy hisses at me. ‘The single’s scheduled to release in Sydney next week. Record company’s already been jumping up and down that the video edit’s not been finalised yet. I mean, how that’s my problem, I don’t know, but they’re the ones refusing to delay the release. I’ve got two editors waiting in New York as we speak to receive all the footage from today, so they can slot it all into the existing edit. Nine hours today probably reduced to about twenty seconds. All because of some product placement. Bloody ridiculous. I’m sorry, Lexi, but I can’t handle you being here as well right now.’

I don’t see any member of Rebel Heart again until the following night, at Seoul’s Gocheok Sky Dome, the stadium where they are playing their gig: the first of three performances. I’ve passed word to Ziggy, requesting that I be permitted to film the boys’ huddle in the moments before they go on stage, but with Duncan lying down with a camera and filming upwards. Word comes back to me that the boys have allowed it.

With the usual screams from the crowd cutting through the air and reverberating in my ears, I stand beside Meredith with my own camera at my side, in the space below the main stage. There is a flurry of activity all around us, radio messages being passed, between the various departments. We’re waiting for a glimpse of the boys executing their pre-show huddle. I’m not sure what I’m hoping for. In the end, the moment lasts no more than a few seconds, before the boys take up their positions, ready to be launched upwards into the arena. Meredith grabs my hand and together we race up to the access doors that lead to the arena floor, readying myself to film the opening number: the boys’ cover of the breakout K-pop track, “Gangnam Style”.

Before the show starts, standing beside the base of the stage, Meredith nudges me in my side.

‘Better turn on your camera,’ she says to me over the din. ‘This is gonna be iconic . The stans have been waiting for this moment for years . Literally.’

I raise my eyebrows, my finger finding the power button on my camera. Suddenly I’m anxious; I want Duncan here. When he arrives, I make sure he has a good view of the stage. I want to capture the audience reaction in the Korean capital.

I note Meredith has her phone out, and is already readying herself to capture this whole moment.

My heart begins to hammer. I had no idea this was such a big deal.

The stadium goes black. The resulting screams burst my ear drums. All that is visible is an ocean of lit up phone screens raised in the air. Hovering. Waiting.

‘The moment they perform this, social media will blow up, I guarantee you,’ Meredith shouts to me. ‘Just watch.’

In the darkness, a record scratches. There sounds out a posh British voice over the speakers. ‘We interrupt our regularly scheduled programming to bring you the following messages,’ it announces, and the tension amongst the crowd ramps up, the atmosphere in the stadium wholly electric. I’ve not been to many live gigs – mostly small, intimate ones performed by grungy guitar bands where the beer is warm and the ceilings are low – but already I know that this performance is going to be sensational.

When the lights go up, and the opening beats to “Gangnam Style” begin, it almost takes the crowd a moment to realise what’s happening. Cal is alone on stage wearing only a pair of white boxer briefs and miltary boots. He wears sunglasses, in a direct recreation of his viral video as a ten-year-old boy. The scream from the crowd, when it happens, brings tears to my eyes. Pyrotechnics shoot up from either side of him. When he performs in fluent Korean, I’m able to capture the looks of pure elation on the fans’ faces. When the rest of Rebel Heart join in – also in fluent Korean – there is a huge, inexplicably big grin on my face.

When the opening number is over, and the noise from the crowd has dipped a notch, Meredith’s thumbs are skimming across her phone screen. She is wildly concentrated, a look in her eye that I don’t recognise. When she sees me watching her, somewhat oddly, she turns her back to me.

‘Well, that was something,’ Duncan says, raising his voice over the din.

‘Did you get it all?’

‘Aye, think so. Got Cal in his kecks at least. And the rest.’

‘And what about downstairs? In the huddle. Did they say anything profound?’

‘Not sure you’d call it profound,’ Duncan responds in a shout, holding up his right hand in demonstration. ‘But they did all give you a one-finger salute.’

In a toilet at the ground floor of the stadium, I help Duncan fix a hidden body camera into place in his black jacket.

I heard from other crew members that Ziggy banned any kind of after-show party, instructing the boys to take it easy and get some rest. He’s banished the dancers to our hotel.

‘No filming, okay?’ Ziggy ordered me when I managed to catch him after the show had come to an end. I was still irritated that I’d been granted a middle finger. Or five individual middle fingers, to be precise. ‘You can come to the Four Seasons, but for a single drink. No cameras.’

‘You sure this is a good idea?’ Duncan asks, locked with me inside a cubicle.

‘I’m being pushed into this,’ I grumble. ‘I refuse to make a documentary that has no value or meaning. If Ziggy won’t let me film, I need to get creative.’

‘Lex. You can shout it from the rooftops that you were pushed into this thing. No one’s expecting you to make an insightful documentary about a boy band. Why don’t you give the creatives at Silverpix what they’re asking for?’

I shoot him a look. ‘Which is what exactly? They have the highest expectations of me, but right now, creatively, thanks to Aidan McArthur, I am a sitting duck . I refuse to produce ninety minutes of banal, trivial material only to see my reputation being flushed down the toilet.’

Duncan rolls his eyes. ‘Look. I know you’re raging. But I don’t think you need to take it all so seriously.’

‘You know me,’ I hum, finishing up, patting the lapel of his jacket in which a tiny camera is concealed. ‘Remember… I have no sense of humour. Now, please, come to the Four Seasons for a casual drink.’

I feel his hand at my elbow when I go for the lock. ‘Why are you pushing this?’

I turn back, grind my teeth. ‘I want authentic. I can’t bear some pre-rehearsed PR stunt. That’s not how my mother raised me.’

‘Lex,’ Duncan sighs. ‘One day you’re gonna have to let it go.’

‘Let what go?’

He looks pained, like he doesn’t want to say it. ‘Some of that emotional baggage you’re carrying around.’

I stare at him, tears pricking me eyes. Sometimes I hate that he knows me as well as he does. I yank my elbow away. ‘We need to go,’ I mutter.

‘Fellas! We officially broke the internet!’ Caleb Whitlock announces, standing on a chair and holding his phone aloft.

At the Four Seasons suite, the mood is buoyant. The band and some limited members of the crew have gathered on sofas in the centre of the suite. Each one of them is looking at their phones, watching grainy concert footage of their performances, ignoring the impressive spread of food in front of them. The performance of “Gangnam Style” went viral before their concert even came to a close.

I linger at a sensible distance with Duncan and Meredith, a drink in my hand. I feel like an imposter, because deep down I know I haven’t built their trust, and none of them want us here. Duncan and I are now both hooked up with hidden cameras, as it’s the only way I can capture footage right now. I feel guilty about it, because looking at the boys’ mood tonight, it feels like I’m invading their private moment. Meredith, on the other hand, seems distracted. Like the boys, she also seems lost in her phone. These past few days, my new assistant has been less talkative than usual.

‘ #RebelHeartGangnam is currently the top trend on Twitter,’ Cal then adds with glee.

‘The stans are losing it,’ Ravi grins. ‘You seen Heartlife’s page? “ This performance will live rent free in my mind til the day I die. ”’

‘Show me,’ J.B. says as he leans over. Whatever Ravi shows him has him cackling.

‘You watched the Rebelles’ official TikTok?’ Miller says with a grin. ‘Holy fucking insanity. They are losing it. “ Never doubted ’em, my captains fucking nailed it tonight. ”’

‘Listen to this one,’ Aidan chimes in, quoting from social media. ‘“ I’ve always hated Rebel Heart, I’m literally converted after seeing them perform Gangnam Style in Seoul tonight, in Korean. ”’

‘“ Didn’t know I needed a Frenchman rapping in Korean with his shirt off in my life ”,’ J.B. quotes with a wry chuckle, giving his phone a little shimmy.

‘“ This is the best live performance ever ,”’ Miller laughs, quoting from his screen. ‘“ Hope the boys perform this track in New York in January. ” Fuck, I hope not.’

‘“ Rebel Heart just confirmed the greatest comeback ever ,”’ Ravi quotes.

‘We’ve got memes already,’ Aidan carries on.

I watch him. He is relaxed into the sofa contours, one arm thrown above his head, an unopened bottle of water in his lap. The reading and shouting out of quotes on social media goes on for some time. Meredith fetches us more drinks. When she comes back, I sip a bottle of beer. Ziggy arrives, this time looking delighted. I move to where he’s standing.

‘Sounds like the show went down a storm,’ I say to him.

‘Always good when a performance goes viral,’ Ziggy confirms. ‘Does wonders for the credibility.’

‘You think they aren’t seen as credible?’

‘They’re a manufactured boy band. Jesus, I wouldn’t listen to their music. But on a night like this, when they’ve done something special… people start to forget that for a while. People realise that they’re actually very versatile… and talented.’

‘You’ve got to let me start filming again, Ziggy. Their reactions to tonight, I’ve missed all of that.’

He holds up his hands, as though admitting a mistake, even though I’m filming this conversation. ‘Alright, alright. Once we get to Sydney. You can get heaps of footage in Sydney.’

‘And more interview time?’

‘And more interview time. How did it go with Ravi the other day?’

‘It was excellent.’

‘He can be a shy fella but he’s got a heart of gold that one. Let’s try and set you up with another very soon.’

‘Hey, Lexi! Sexy Lexi, get over here!’

I look up to find Cal yelling my name, beckoning me to come closer to the group. My chest tightens. I’m reluctant to join in the celebrations. I edge nearer to them.

‘You get our message, Lex?’ Cal asks with a jaunty smile. None of the other boys will look at me.

I force a half-smile in return, swallowing the lump in my throat. ‘Yes, I got each individual message, thank you.’

‘I mean, Aidey was seriously gutted you weren’t the one underneath with the camera. Duncan’s a cute guy, but… if it’d been you, I’m sure he would have blown you a kiss.’

‘Guess I’ll know for next time.’

Aidan gives Cal a murderous look.

‘Relax, Lexi. I’m fucking with ya. Siddown. Join the party.’

‘Thanks,’ I say quietly.

I look over to Duncan who gives me a reassuring nod. Build trust , I remind myself.

Sweetly, Ravi moves up and pats the seat next to him.

‘Are there a lot of fan accounts?’ I ask him, almost as a rhetorical question, because I’ve trawled through some of them.

‘I mean, we know the big ones,’ Ravi replies. ‘New ones crop up all the time.’

‘All you have to do is look ,’ Aidan says, levelling his gaze on mine. ‘It’s called research.’

‘Which I’ve now had plenty of time to do,’ I clap back at him, my tone more aggressive than I intended.

‘Pipe down, you two,’ Cal says.

‘I agree with Aidey,’ Miller says and I bristle.

‘She’s here, mate, you may as well give her a chance,’ Cal adds.

‘Why?’ Aidan snaps at Cal. ‘Why should we? You heard her, she literally knows nothing about us.’

‘That’s not true,’ I argue, this time keeping my tone even.

Ravi looks uncomfortable. J.B. scrolls through his phone.

‘Chill, Aid. She’s not here to infiltrate the band. She’s not trying to break us up. Now can we please raise a drink to Rebel Heart learning bloody Korean!’ Cal shouts.

The tension dissipates for a moment as they toast the band’s success. I raise my glass. Ravi gets up to speak to the South-Asian guy, the same man who’d been carrying costumes on the first day I met the group in Tokyo.

Sitting there, I feel like a buzzkill, but I remember my hidden body camera and try to remain still.

Opposite, Miller is staring at me. ‘So, you got a boyfriend at home, Lexi?’ he asks.

I feel heat spread up my neck and onto my cheeks. It’s a simple enough question. Duncan is nearby, watching me.

‘No, I’m single.’

‘Welcome to the club.’

‘Would you like a girlfriend?’ I ask him.

He produces a wolfish smile. ‘You offering?’

‘That’s not what I meant.’

‘Come on then. If you’ve done your research, what do you know about the Rebel Heart girlfriend situation?’

‘I know you’re all single right now.’

‘J.B. wishes he wasn’t,’ Miller says. ‘Royally messed things up with Audrey.’

J.B. hisses something at Miller in French, shaking his head, running his hands over his scalp.

‘And Cal wishes he’d slept with Bianca Lawson.’

‘I fucking hate Bianca Lawson,’ Cal says.

‘I’ve never known a guy talk so much about a girl he supposedly hates,’ Miller argues.

‘Yeah, well, in Sydney, when our track comes out, she’s got it fucking coming.’ Cal helps himself to some food and lapses into a sulk.

‘And Aidan…’ Miller teases.

‘I swear to god, Mill,’ Aidan says in a low tone.

‘What do you know about Aidey’s dating history?’ Miller asks me.

I swallow the lump that has inexplicably appeared in my throat. ‘I’ve read a few things.’

There’s a lot on the internet. A lot. But I did look up their history of girlfriends. It would seem Aidan’s most significant other was a woman called Samara Al-Noori, daughter of a British-Emirati entrepreneur based in Dubai.

Aidan’s still scrolling through his phone. A muscle pulsates at the base of his jaw.

‘Aidey doesn’t sleep around,’ Miller continues. ‘He held out on Samara for weeks. You should ask him about it in his interview, Lexi. I mean, if he actually agrees to one.’

‘Or you could ask Miller about why he never sleeps with the same girl twice,’ Cal interjects.

Aidan gets to his feet. ‘I’m going to bed,’ he grumbles.

‘Mate, siddown. We’re celebrating, remember?’ Cal says.

Aidan looks pointedly in my direction. ‘Yeah, well, I’m no longer in the mood to celebrate.’

With that, he walks out, fist-bumping J.B. as he goes.

‘Nice work, Cal,’ Miller spits.

‘Mate, you were the one who brought up fucking Samara. You know he gets weird when her name comes up.’

Frustration balloons in my chest. I want to know why Aidan has left. Was it Miller bringing up his ex-girlfriends, or was it because I took a seat at the table?

After a moment, I get to my feet, saying nothing, exchanging glances with Duncan. He offers me a shrug.

I can’t work like this.

‘Aidan.’

At the other end of the corridor, he stops in his tracks. I fast-walk along the plush carpet to catch up.

‘What do you want?’ he asks.

It’s a good question. I haven’t thought through how this conversation might go, but my gut tells me to take a diplomatic approach. ‘I didn’t mean to make things awkward back there. What I’m trying to say is—’

‘You felt awkward, that’s your problem, not mine.’

I stare at him. His arrogance means that diplomacy hangs by a very thin thread. ‘I still don’t understand what I’ve done to make you dislike me so much.’

He stands his ground. ‘You’re an outsider. Plain and simple. I don’t like outsiders. I don’t trust them.’

‘So maybe get to know me? You care about this band; I can see that. Tell me how I gain your trust.’

‘You could leave? Then Silverpix would be without a second director and we might be able to bury this documentary for good.’

Something snaps inside me. ‘That’s ridiculous. You’re living in a dreamworld! You act like I’ve come here to destroy you!’

It’s only afterwards I realise how much I’ve raised my voice. He’s looking at me furiously.

When he opens his mouth to speak, Aidan McArthur doesn’t hold back. I feel the full force of his outburst. ‘No, you’re living in a dreamworld if you think you can walk in here and film whatever you like! We’ve worked too hard to open ourselves up to that level of scrutiny. People can’t wait to see our downfall. They can’t wait to see us fail! All Silverpix cares about is money. How many new accounts they can cram into people’s living rooms across the world. That’s their only agenda! And you’re too blind to see it.’

‘Silverpix is the biggest sponsor of your tour!’ I exclaim.

‘And that’s all they are. A sponsor. The revenue comes from ticket sales. Silverpix doesn’t pay for my career!’

At his words, my mouth falls open, eyes wide. I’m shocked he’d stoop so low, yet I’m furious with him too.

‘You are such an intolerant arsehole!’ I blurt.

‘Errr, guys?’ I hear a voice say behind me. It’s Ravi. I turn my head. Cal, J.B. and Miller are standing with him in the corridor, staring at us. Further back, Duncan and Meredith have followed them out. I feel my cheeks burn.

‘Think the entire hotel got the message, guys,’ Cal says.

I shake my head, feeling the urge to flee. ‘I can’t do this,’ I say, my voice trembling, cradling my forehead in my palms.

‘So don’t,’ Aidan snaps.

‘Will you stop ?’ I plead with him.

‘You know, this would go a lot smoother if we all just tried to get along,’ Ravi says with a hopeful smile.

‘I’ll play nice when they can send someone who has a genuine interest in us, Rav, instead of wasting our time,’ Aidan argues.

‘You see, that’s where you’re wrong,’ I say, folding my arms across my chest, a tremor in my voice. ‘I am not here to waste anyone’s time. But you won’t let me film anything. And I’m interested. I’ve sat around all day and learned everything there is to know about all of you.’

‘I know a way we can fix this!’ Ravi exclaims, clapping his hands together like a seal. ‘We design a quiz. If Lexi gets all our questions right, she can film us. If she doesn’t, she doesn’t get to film.’

‘No, no, I’ve got a better idea,’ Aidan says and I swear I’ve never seen him more wolfish. ‘If Lexi gets all our questions right, she can stay. If she doesn’t … she has to leave and the documentary dies with her.’

I snort. ‘That’s ridiculous. I’m not agreeing to that.’

‘You said yourself, you’ve done your research now.’ Ravi grins. ‘So, let’s see what you know.’

Duncan and Meredith have moved closer. I’m quiet for a moment. An idea floats through my brain, one that involves serious self-sabotage. I’d have to go to Vaughn to say I’d been forced from filming due to irreconcilable differences. That it was physically impossible to do my job with the amount of resistance I’d encountered from the Rebel Heart band members. I could turn it around and blame it all on them. I could be released from my current contract.

I’ve got an Oscar. I can find other funding. I can go back to my original plan and kiss all things Rebel Heart goodbye.

I raise my chin a fraction. ‘Fine. Questions can only be based on what’s available on the internet. I don’t know what brand of underwear any of you wear and I don’t know what kind of car any of you drive. They can only be based on what’s out there in open media.’

Ravi’s grin widens. Behind him, Meredith’s eyes are like saucers, and not in a good way. ‘Ten questions in total. Two on each band member. You have to get at least… seven out of ten.’

‘Nine,’ Aidan states flatly.

‘Six,’ I say.

‘Eight,’ Cal, J.B. and Miller all stay together.

‘And Aidan can’t set any of the questions, because he’ll make them impossible for me to answer,’ I add.

‘Deal,’ Ravi says before Aidan has time to object. ‘Do we shake on it?’

‘Hold up,’ says Aidan, before I shake. ‘Are we saying if Lexi doesn’t get eight out of ten questions right, she has to leave? As in go?’

‘I believe that’s what we’re saying, yes,’ Ravi says cheerfully.

Aidan nods, a smile curling onto his lips. He pushes the hair from his face. ‘Then I’m all in.’

I stare at them all. My heart’s racing. If I lose, Vaughn Herrera will have my head.

‘Then let’s do this,’ Ravi says, and I wonder if I can blame temporary insanity on what I’m about to do.

Yes, I’m about to do a quiz to find out if I get to keep my job.

The boundaries of professionalism are looking shakier by the minute.