I Knew You Were Trouble

Chapter Eleven

The following afternoon, I’m back at the Four Seasons in Seoul, in the same suite we occupied last night, now getting ready for Caleb Whitlock’s interview.

Ziggy is waiting for me.

‘Heard you played a bit of a game with the lads last night,’ he says with a glower, as Meredith helps Duncan set up.

I blush. ‘You heard about that.’

‘Was all they could talk about over brunch. I got the full download.’

‘Did they think I wouldn’t pass the test?’

‘I think Aidan was hoping you’d fail. Rest of ’em seem happy you’re staying.’

‘And what does Aidan McArthur say about me now?’

Ziggy gave a shrug. ‘Wouldn’t say he’s over the moon about it but he’s promised to try and keep the peace.’

‘Good.’

His expression alters. ‘And what if you’d fucked it all up?’

I shift my position. ‘Then I would have fallen on my sword.’

Ziggy doesn’t look impressed. ‘That sword belongs to Silverpix, love. And I would have been left without yet another director. You pull a stunt like that again, you be sure to run it past me first. I don’t need any more drama on my tour. Just film them and stay out of the way.’

I exchange a look with Duncan.

‘Sorry,’ I mutter. ‘Won’t happen again.’

My mind goes back to last night, when Aidan had occupied my thoughts in a different way. I’ve told myself that that won’t happen again either.

Ziggy waits for Cal to arrive, then departs. I’m thrilled that Cal’s here willingly, that I didn’t have to cojole him into having an interview. He lets Meredith fuss around him, applying his make-up, whilst Duncan and I check we’re content with the lighting set-up. Alone with him in the room, Cal’s answered every one of my questions for the last hour, regaling me with hilarious stories about the band and making me laugh. With the amount of material he’s giving me, I could make a documentary based on this interview alone.

Yet there’s one topic he’s avoided completely.

‘Can we talk about Bianca Lawson?’

When I ask the crunch question, I watch his reaction in the monitor, having set up one camera with a close-up of Cal’s face purely for that reason. His eyes go to the floor, and he winces at the mere mention of her name.

‘I mean, sure, we can,’ he says after a moment, with a shrug. ‘Sort of a waste of oxygen though, if you ask me.’

‘Did you know Bianca’s had death threats in the last two years?’

If he did know, I note, he isn’t giving anything away. He sucks in his cheeks. ‘Yeah, well, she should have thought about that before she started tweeting about me.’

‘You’re saying you think Bianca knew she would get death threats when she said what she said?’

‘I’m sure she didn’t think that, no. But even I could have told her that tweeting something like that was gonna be a dumbass move. Not with our fan base, mate. They’re like pretty little Rottweilers.’

‘Two years ago, she had to delete all of her social media accounts.’

He runs his fingers through mounds of curly hair. ‘Maybe she didn’t have anything decent to say.’

‘Perhaps you could talk me through what happened? The night before Bianca sent the tweet? Why do you think she said what she said?’

He shifts in his chair. ‘Lex, I don’t want the girl featuring in the doc, alright? We can get it done without her name being mentioned.’

‘Cal, your name is synonymous with that tweet, and the resulting song, which releases very soon to massive amounts of buzz. The fans want to know your reaction. We can’t pretend that this is just like any other song. That it came out of nowhere. I promise it will be a small mention. We don’t have to dwell on the issue. Alright?’

I realise, for once in his life, Cal doesn’t have an immediate response. ‘Fine,’ he mumbles eventually.

‘So will you talk me through what happened?’

‘Nothing happened. I mean… the gig was at Madison Square Garden. It was an after-party. She walked in, we talked for a bit, we kissed a few times before she racked off home. The next day our picture’s in the paper and bam, her tweet’s gone viral. End of story.’

‘Did you approach her that night, or did she come up to you?’

‘I don’t remember.’

‘Try to think back, Cal.’

He’s quiet for a moment. ‘I think I went over to her. She was with her mates; I offered to get ’em all drinks.’

‘But what made you single her out? Did you find her attractive?’

He goes quiet for a moment. ‘I mean, I’d watched her show. Knew who she was. Thought she was hot. And not just everyday hot, you know, like… a knockout. On another level gorgeous. Like, the kind of girl you’d walk over hot coals just to get to know properly.’

‘And do you think she felt the same way about you?’

‘You read the tweet, didn’t ya? I mean, obviously not.’

‘But you think she kissed you willingly?’

‘I’m a member of Rebel Heart, love, most girls kiss me willingly.’

‘So what made her different to the other girls you’ve kissed?’

He falters, shifting in his seat. ‘I dunno, we talked about shit. Seemed like we had a lot in common. Which is weird, you know, ’cause I’m this bogan from Bondi and she’s a hot New York princess, but somehow, we had a connection. I could feel it.’

‘Then why do you think she left without saying goodbye?’

‘How should I know? Said she felt guilty for not hanging out with her mates. I couldn’t find her. Next thing I know, we’re on the front page of the bloody New York Post .’

‘What was your reaction? To the tweet, when you read it?’

He runs one hand around the back of his neck. ‘Pissed off, you know? Felt like being in the damn playground again when I was a kid, the other kids making fun of my crazy hair’n shit. Okay, so she wasn’t attracted to me, I read the signals all wrong. But she didn’t have to say that, you know. What she said. It was a… a mean thing to say.’

‘What would you say to Bianca Lawson if you were ever to see her again?’

He’s quiet for another moment. ‘I wouldn’t say anything to that bitch. I wouldn’t even talk to her.’

‘Do you ever think about Bianca, Cal?’

His raises his head, his eyes flashing, as if I’ve overstepped the mark, before he rubs the bridge of his nose, muttering in a low tone, ‘Yeah, a bit. Prolly more than I should.’

When Cal is gone, Meredith, Duncan and I watch the last section of his interview on a laptop.

‘It’s really good,’ Meredith says with a grin, when I hit the pause button. ‘I mean really good. Caleb opening up about Bianca Lawson is… well, it’s unprecedented.’

‘I’d like to talk to her. Get her side of the story. Do you think you could try and get in touch with her, or her people?’

‘Oh my god. Do you wanna interview her?!’

‘If she’d agree to it. Maybe when the tour hits New York?’

‘I can definitely reach out.’

‘Just don’t tell anyone. And if she agrees, Caleb can never know.’

Meredith gives a single nod and is already tapping on her phone. ‘I’m gonna find out who her agent is.’

Meredith leaves the suite. Duncan is packing up the lights.

‘You okay?’ I ask.

‘Aye. Wanna get food later? All I seen o’ Seoul is the inside of a couple hotels.’

‘Definitely. We can either celebrate or commiserate that we’re still here.’

A smile tugs at his lips. ‘I dunno, Lex. I think secretly you’re kinda relishing this.’

I raise my eyebrows, surprised by his statement. ‘In a personal or professional capacity?’

He straightens, having secured one of the black Peli cases. ‘Maybe a wee bit of both.’

Though it’s a concert night, Duncan and I excuse ourselves from filming and take a walk from our hotel to a Korean barbeque restaurant. Duncan pushes his hands into his pockets and I hook my hand over his lower arm. Meredith decided she wanted to go and watch Rebel Heart perform at the Sky Dome for a second night in a row.

We order cold beers, gyoza and black ceramic bowls of bibimbap, which comes sizzling with a fried egg on top.

‘So come on, honest opinion,’ Duncan says, digging hungrily into his food. ‘Are you enjoying this or what?’

I swallow a mouthful of beer and stifle a laugh. ‘Do I look like I’m enjoying this?’

‘I’m serious. Last night… when you were being questioned by the lads. It’s the first time in a while I’ve seen you have any fun.’

A memory flits through my mind. Me giving myself an orgasm because I looked at a few pictures of Aidan McArthur with his shirt off.

‘I’d just gambled my career on answering questions about a boy band. Where’s the fun in that?’

‘What I mean is, you were relaxed. And they accepted you.’

‘Not all of them.’

‘Ach, Lexi, I’ve never seen you let a fella stand in the way of you getting where you needed to go.’

It takes me a moment to answer him because my mouth is so stuffed with food. ‘Aidan McArthur doesn’t bother me.’

‘I think he does though. Bother you. Maybe just a wee bit.’

I’m frowning as he finishes his beer. ‘What does that mean?’

‘Come on, Lex. When did you at least try to like a fella? Actually take an interest in one? I know plenty who’ve been interested in you. I include myself in that bracket.’

‘Aidan McArthur is five years younger than me.’

‘So? I’m three years younger than you and I was your fella. Even if you didn’t want me in the end.’

I cock my head to one side and give him a sympathetic look. ‘We said it ourselves. We would never have lasted.’

‘I know that. But how many guys have you been with, eh? In the last two years since me?’

I shrug, embarrassed. ‘One or two.’

‘That last one. The poet, was it?’

‘Oh god, he was awful.’

‘Aye, was mad keen on you though. Look all I’m sayin’ is… one day you’re gonna have to let somebody in.’

I swallow my drink and look him in the eye.

He knows I hate it when he’s right.

I’m back in my room rewatching Cal’s interview when I hear a knock at the door. I check the spy hole. It’s Meredith.

‘Hey,’ I say with a smile, opening the door wide. ‘How’d the concert go?’

She follows me inside. ‘Awesome. The crowd were chanting for more Gangnam, so the boys performed it again at the end. You would know that already if you looked at social media.’

I wave my hand dismissively. ‘I was working. Listen, who do you think I should target next? For an interview?’

‘Maybe J.B.? I don’t know. I came to say I heard back from Bianca Lawson’s publicist.’

I stiffen, my eyes widening. ‘That was quick. And?’

Meredith gets out her phone, reading from an email. ‘And I quote… “ Ms. Lawson would rather die than have to speak about Caleb Whitlock ever again. ”’