I Knew You Were Trouble

Chapter Thirteen

‘Who are all these people?’ I say to Meredith as we enter the observatory bar, decked out in the style of a gentleman’s club. The room is wall-to-wall suits, Rebel Heart band members amongst them. The boys have dressed – or have been made to dress – for the occasion.

‘Industry types,’ Meredith says. ‘The great and good of the Aussie music scene. Some journalists. Some of the local tour organisers, I think.’

‘And who are they ?’ Duncan asks on the other side of me.

Meredith giggles. ‘That’s the support act for the shows. Local Aussie girl band called Haven.’

My stare follows the direction of Duncan’s gaze, my jaw dropping for a moment. Three girls are drinking and giggling together, dressed in matching bodycon dresses, suspenders, thigh-high boots, bodices and bunny ears. One is a brunette, one a blonde, and one a redhead, though it really seems that that is their only distinguishable feature. It occurs to me that none of the three is above the age of twenty-two or twenty-three.

‘Can we interview them for the documentary?’ Duncan says, gawping.

I watch Meredith conceal a smile. ‘Why don’t you go and talk to them?’ I say. ‘You don’t need my help.’

Duncan looks nervous. ‘I’ll grab a wee dram first.’

‘He’s adorable,’ Meredith says when he’s gone. ‘That deep voice can melt hearts.’

‘Are you talking about yours or more generally?’

Meredith’s cheeks flush. ‘Oh, I didn’t mean mine… my heart. What I meant was… he’s cute. I don’t think he’d be into a girl like me. You know… short, saccharine American.’

I raise an eyebrow. ‘You might be surprised. And you might be small, but you, Meredith, are perfectly formed.’

A server passes us by with drinks on a tray. I grab two glasses, handing one to Meredith. I take a long sip. When I look back over the rim of my glass, Aidan McArthur’s eyes are on mine and I try not to choke on my drink.

He’s wearing shiny black shoes, a pair of charcoal-coloured suit trousers with a matching fitted waistcoat, a subtle check pattern on them, and a white shirt underneath with an open collar and the sleeves rolled up. The whole package makes him look devastatingly handsome. He’s had a haircut too. His own glass is empty. I lower my drink and feel a jolt go through me as his gaze moves unambiguously down my figure in my dress. I stare back at him, as though the room has somehow emptied out and we are the only two left.

The sight of him makes my stomach roll over.

‘Lexi? Are you okay?’ Meredith asks.

‘I’m going to go and join Duncan at the bar,’ I mumble, my concentration shot to hell, as from the corner of my eye, I watch all three members of Haven saunter over to Aidan.

The squelching in my stomach feels oddly like jealousy, and I’m not sure I know how to handle it. Jealousy is not in my DNA. At least I didn’t think it was.

After a drink at the bar, I manage to persuade Duncan to go over and talk to Haven. I work the room, shaking hands and making conversation, my high-heeled shoes pinching my toes. I keep one eye on Aidan. He’s extricated himself from the Haven girls and is similarly working the room. Except everyone wants a piece of the band members, so I’m left with the guests who are only here for the free booze.

‘Hello, young lady,’ a man in a brown suit jacket says as he thrusts out his hand in my direction. His Australian accent is coarse and grating, the skin on his hands leathery. I can smell the alcohol on his breath. He’s short on hair, his ruddy cheeks peppered with acne scars. ‘What you here for, love?’

‘I, uh , I’m making a documentary about Rebel Heart.’

He frowns at me. ‘Hang on… I know you. Yeah. You’re ol’ Pat’s daughter, ain’t ya?’

My skin crawls. He’s got yellow teeth. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘Yeah, thought you looked familiar! Pat Hart is your old man, ain’t that right?’

I swallow, my eyes flitting around the room to see if I can spot Duncan, or even Meredith. At the mention of my father, my pulse has started to race. ‘He—’ I begin. ‘Yes,’ I concede. ‘Yes, he is.’

Ordinarily, I would end the conversation there. I don’t like talking about my father, the trauma of him abandoning me and my mother put to bed a long time ago. Or, rather, I have buried those feelings, deep inside me. And I’ll admit I’ve never quite dealt with them. I avoid them at all costs.

The man is still talking. He seems to have no perception of personal space because he’s backed me right into the corner beside the bookcase. I’ve found myself trapped in one corner of the room. The camera in my butterfly broach will be picking up everything.

‘…Yeah, I did a stint in LA once when I was younger. Went to film school with your old man. I knew right there he had a boatload of talent. Made me realise I was better off sticking to the writing, ya know?’

For every inch I move back, he shifts forward, so that I can feel his breath against my face. My hands have started to shake. I can’t find the words to interrupt him.

‘…We had a lotta fun though… chased the starlets all around Hollywood, if you know what I mean, eh? We’d try and get into all these exclusive parties up in the Hills. Your dad was a right flirt. Had this roguish charm about him, a cracking smile. He had them falling at his feet…’

I swallow hard, sweat breaking out on my upper lip. A moment later, I hear a deep voice from my left. ‘Excuse me,’ it says, in an authoritative tone. ‘I need to borrow Lexi for a minute.’

I glance up to find Aidan is looking down at me. With his right hand, he reaches for my left. He guides me forward, his other hand going to the journalist’s shoulder, making a point of moving him further out of the way.

‘Sorry, mate,’ the man mutters, but I barely hear him. I feel Aidan’s arm curl protectively around me, his hand coming to rest in the small of my back. He walks me through the crowd, and helplessly I lean into him on jelly legs.

‘You looked like you were drowning there,’ he whispers to me. ‘Are you alright?’

I nod, because I can’t find the words. Tears gather, but I swallow them down. He walks me to the far side of the bar, where there are less people, and lets me go.

‘Are you sure you’re alright?’ he asks softly. ‘You’ve gone pale.’

‘He—’ I begin, and I realise that Aidan’s now sliding both his hands into mine, and if it wasn’t for all the emotions rushing through my chest, I would revel in how amazing it feels.

I shake my head. ‘H-He knew my dad. He was saying… and sometimes I… sometimes I just shut down when people start talking about him.’

‘Do you want me to get you some water?’

‘Please.’

‘Wait here. Don’t move.’

He lets me go and I stand there, trying to calm myself. I watch him go to the bar and he comes back with a glass of iced water.

‘Are you alright to stay?’ he asks.

I drink. I look to the crowd then back up at him. His hair falls into his eyes. My heart beats faster, not because of what just happened, but because of my proximity to him.

‘I… I might go back to my room,’ I say, still flustered.

‘You want me to walk you there?’

I keep drinking water. I want to say yes but everything feels unfamiliar. The sight of him does things to my insides that I can’t explain. I know there’s another party happening later – one that Ziggy has technically banned – but suddenly I don’t want to go to it.

‘I can go alone; I’ll be alright. I think I’m a bit tired.’

‘It’s alright. That guy won’t bother you again.’

‘Thank you for saving me.’

‘Anytime. You’re sure I can’t walk you back?’

I get it now, I think. I get why the girls all go to mush around him. He’s more considerate than I’d given him credit for.

‘Thank you, I’m fine. Can you tell Meredith and Duncan that I’ve gone?’

‘I will. Of course.’

I linger for a moment. It’s hard not to be drawn to him.

And then I go.

I’m walking back along the corridor in my dress on shaky legs, having taken my shoes off. The pair of strappy high heels hangs from my fingertips.

I walk slowly, as if in a dream.

I’ve barely had a drop to drink, so I’m not drunk.

But I feel a little drunk.

I can’t keep my thoughts under control. My heart is doing odd things. When that journalist was in my face, going on about my father, about how he knew him, my reaction was the same as it’s always been when the topic of my dad comes up in conversation: I panicked. The last time I saw him at the Oscars, I told him I didn’t want to see him anymore.

But, tonight, something else happened.

Aidan McArthur swooped in.

Not that I think anyone else noticed.

But I did.

I stop in the centre of the corridor, room doors all around me. I feel like I’m floating. The past few days he’s occupied my thoughts more than I would care to admit.

The sound of a door opening jolts me from my daydream.

Up ahead, a man I recognise comes out into the corridor. He’s the costumes guy for the tour. He’s laughing at something.

Then, somewhat unexpectedly, Ravi Bala follows out of the door, still wearing his suit. He’s removed his shoes. He’s also laughing but he doesn’t seem to see me.

Before I know it, the two men are locked in a passionate embrace.

I freeze.

Their kiss goes on for some moments. I don’t know where to look or whether to say something. They’re so caught up in an intimate moment, but there’s no way they won’t see me, and right now the camera in my butterfly broach is capturing everything.

Ravi lifts his head. He’s looking into the other man’s eyes.

It’s only then that he glances to his left.

He looks at me wide-eyed. For a moment, nobody moves.

‘Hi, Lexi,’ he says, his voice strangled.

‘Hi,’ I manage, with a limp wave.

He wipes one hand over his short hair. ‘ Uhhh ,’ he begins shakily, looking to his companion. ‘I guess we might need to talk.’

‘Whose room is this?’ I ask as Ravi ushers me inside the standard suite and away from the corridor.

‘It’s mine,’ the other man tells me. ‘I’m Tun.’

He holds out his hand and I shake it. ‘Nice to meet you properly, Tun,’ I say, recalling that I saw him briefly at the party, which is why he’s also wearing a suit with his tie loosened. He seems to be a similar age to Ravi – about twenty-three – yet taller, with South Asian heritage, his dark hair slicked back.

‘You’re the filmmaker,’ he says. ‘Nice to meet you too.’

‘Lexi. And you do costumes. Are you American?’

‘Burmese American. My mother is from Myanmar but I grew up in Minnesota.’

Whilst we talk, Ravi’s pacing the room, hands in his hair. It’s a moment before he speaks. ‘You weren’t supposed to see that,’ he says.

There’s no sign of his dimples now.

I point between them. ‘You and Tun… you’re… together? Or is this…’

Ravi looks away. ‘Nobody knows we’re an item,’ Tun murmurs, and there’s a hint of frustration in his tone.

‘Not even the other boys?’ I ask.

Ravi hasn’t taken his eyes off the carpet.

‘Miller is the only one who knows that Ravi is… is gay,’ Tun admits.

‘Miller?’ I repeat, in disbelief. ‘Please don’t tell me that’s why the two of you don’t get along? Because he’s homophobic?’

Ravi looks sheepish. ‘Actually, it’s the opposite. Miller’s been trying to persuade me to come out to the band for quite some time. Miller and I get on fine. Someone said we didn’t which is bullshit. But I don’t feel ready to tell the other guys. Not yet. And they don’t know about Tun, no.’

‘How long have you been together?’

Ravi’s expression softens. Tun takes him by the hand and his resulting grin means his dimples are fully on show. ‘Three months. Since before the start of the tour.’

I move my finger between them, a smile tugging at my lips. I might be stunned, but I’m pleased for them. ‘And does Miller know about the two of you?’

‘Nobody knows,’ Tun breathes. ‘Except you now.’

‘I’m in a boy band for god’s sake,’ Ravi snaps, pacing again. ‘I can’t come out.’

‘Ravi, everyone would understand if you’re scared,’ I say.

‘It’s not the guys I’m afraid of. I know they would be cool with it. It’s my parents. The rest of the world. I don’t wanna be the subject of a thousand TikTok videos shared online. Not when it’s me on my own and nothing to do with the band. This could ruin everything for Rebel Heart.’

‘So, in the meantime, I gotta wait,’ Tun sighs.

I think of the butterfly broach, still recording, and guilt knaws at my stomach.

‘What about the party later? Are you both going?’

‘Ravi ignores me in public,’ Tun states with a shrug. ‘But sure, we’ll both be there.’

Ravi goes over to his boyfriend, his hands in a prayer position. The two men lock eyes. ‘One day, I promise you,’ Ravi whispers and they embrace.

Without warning, Ravi then shifts and wraps me in a hug instead. I hope he can’t feel the battery pack, tucked inside the fabric of my dress.

He pulls back, locks eyes with me, his expression pleading. ‘Will you keep this a secret for us, Lexi? Please? For now?’

I’m losing track of my secrets.

‘Of course,’ I promise him in earnest. ‘I won’t tell a soul.’