I Knew You Were Trouble

Chapter Thirty-Five

Disappointment surges in my veins. When the back of the van opens, Miller gets out. He’s wearing blue jeans, a black and blue plaid shirt, brown boots and a cap pulled down over his face, hands thrust in his pockets. Keeping his head down, he walks directly into my building without looking my way. I resist the urge to roll my eyes, or remind him that there isn’t a single paparazzi camera present, so he doesn’t have to lurk around like some uber-famous pop star.

‘Are you coming in too?’ I ask Bodhi.

‘Nah, that’s okay, I’ll wait down here.’

I close the door, my mind reeling as I climb the stairs. Miller follows me to my flat.

‘Hi, Miller,’ I say stiffly, when the door is closed and we’re alone. ‘How are you?’

He reaches up, removing his hat. When he turns, I gasp at the gash in his lip, his right eye swollen with a bruise the shade of deep purple.

‘Oh god,’ I breathe. ‘What happened to you?’

‘Oh, believe me, it’s better than it was,’ he says, trying to sound cheerful, but it comes off as awkward.

‘Would you like an ice pack?’ I ask.

‘I’m okay,’ he says. ‘Got any cola?’

‘Sure,’ I say, walking over to the fridge. ‘Sit down if you like.’

‘It’s okay. I have to say some stuff, so I’m prolly better standing.’

I pull out a can of Coke from the fridge, handing it to him, knowing from experience he won’t take a glass.

‘What kind of stuff?’ I ask.

He takes the can and shoves his cap into his back pocket. He taps the top of the can then tugs the ring pull. Then from his other pocket he pulls out a piece of paper.

‘I brought a list,’ he states.

I’m still baffled by the fact that Danny Miller from Rebel Heart is standing in my flat, looking distinctly out of place.

Miller reads his own handwriting. ‘Okay, number one. I’m a jerk. I behaved terribly to you, especially when you interviewed me. I—’

He shakes his head then screws up the piece of paper.

‘Are you alright?’ I ask.

He takes a gulp of drink, wiping his fingers through his hair, which because of the hat, is rendered almost normal-looking, not seeped in copious amounts of product. It gives him a weird kind of vulnerability.

‘Danny. Please sit down.’

He slumps down on my sofa. I take a seat next to him.

‘Just say what’s on your mind,’ I say. ‘Doesn’t matter if it comes out all jumbled.’

He looks at me. I wince at the bruising, which looks painful. It takes him a few moments to gather his thoughts.

He looks to the floor. ‘Look… I never had an influential female figure in my life,’ he begins. ‘My mom left when I was six. My dad wasn’t much of a talker so I followed my older brother’s lead. When I was eleven, I used to fall asleep to the sounds of him having sex in the next-door room. Different girls would come and go. And I thought that was normal.

‘When you came with us on tour, I think we all saw you as, like, this mom figure. I mean, everyone except Aidey, obviously. Felt like you were there to look after us in some way. Then when I realised how Aidan was with you, how he felt about you… I think I got a little jealous.’

I nod in understanding.

‘Aidey’s the member of the band I most look up to,’ Miller says. ‘The one I most wanna be like. But whilst he was brought up, I got dragged up. I know I’ll never be like him. You can see that from what happened with Meredith. I didn’t… take care of her. I followed my junk, like I always do. I called her up, by the way. Apologised. After the night in Vegas.’

I smile. ‘That was good of you.’

I’ve tried not to think about the last night I spent on the tour, the look in Aidan’s eyes when he realised I wasn’t the person he’d thought I was.

‘Aidey was pretty cut up after that night,’ Miller says. ‘I mean, he was already beating himself up because of the Taylor thing. I think he was more annoyed at himself that he’d gotten with Taylor in the first place, when we were in Sydney. He takes a lot of responsibility on his shoulders. Goes over things in his head. But after that night, he was mad at you.’

It still stings, hearing it out loud. ‘It was my fault. I never should have filmed you all without your knowledge. It wasn’t appropriate. I should have owned up to what I was doing. Paige told me what happened with Lucy, and the turmoil he was left in after that experience.’

‘He was reminded of it, for sure. Cal was tryna persuade him to forget about it and call you, whilst I tried to advise him on how to channel his anger. We got some freaky tattoos in Miami. But then, after that, the anger just turned into pain. I never saw a guy hurt that much over a woman before. He missed you like crazy. Thought he’d blown it with you. Again.’

I look to the floor, a stab of pain hitting my chest. I want to tell him that Aidan hasn’t blown it with me. Instead, I say, ‘I’ve accepted it’s over with Aidan, Miller. Filming you, in that way, I messed it up completely.’

‘No, no, Lex, we get it now. The documentary… it’s brilliant.’

My face lights up. ‘You’ve watched it?’

He grins. ‘Hell, yeah. We’ve all seen it. Personally, I’ve watched it, like, seven or eight times on a loop. Paige told us about the copy you gave to her. So when we arrived in London, we all shipped out to Aidey’s parents’ place and watched it together.’

‘When was this?’

‘Like, four nights ago. Then we spent the whole of the next day watching it over again.’

I’m grinning now too. ‘So… you liked it? You weren’t annoyed about the hidden cameras?’

‘Of course not. It all works. You did it for a reason, we get that now.’

I bite my lip, feeling a fraction vindicated.

‘I was still watching it the next day for like the fifth time. I was on the couch, sitting next to Rav before I hear this big crash and the door slams. Aidey comes into the house and screams my name. When I saw his face, it was like Vegas all over again, his eyes were full of rage. That’s when I picked this up, when he launched himself at me.’

Miller points to the wounds on his face.

‘Wait. Aidan was the one who hurt you?’ I breathe.

Miller shrugs. ‘Looks worse than it is. He said if I ever spoke to you like that again, he would end me. I believed him. He’s still pissed at me.’

‘Oh,’ I mumble, because I don’t know what else to say.

‘I’m sorry for what I said to you during my interview. I was an asshole and way outta line.’

I nod in acceptance of his apology.

‘But you don’t have to worry. He’s gonna straighten everything out.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean all that bullshit the management and record company spewed out. Aidey flew out to California with Ziggy yesterday. They’ve got some meetings lined up.’

‘What?’ I stare at him, my jaw working, yet no sound forthcoming. ‘What? I thought he had some kind of family emergency.’

Miller pulls a face. ‘Nah, that’s what we told those TV producers. And I can hardly go live with this face. ’Til it heals, Ziggy’s got me benched.’

I shoot to my feet, reeling. ‘You mean… I don’t… what? What? Aidan’s in California? Defending my documentary?’

Miller nods, like it’s nothing at all. ‘And Lexi?’

I can’t even form a response. Miller pours the last of the Coke into his mouth, crushing the can in one hand. He swallows. ‘Thanks for not making me look like a bad guy. I mean, I still look like the bad guy, but every band needs one, right?’

I start pacing, clasping my hands together. Aidan has gone to Silicon Valley. For me. Yet he’s still not replied to my phone message. He’s said nothing at all to me about the documentary.

‘I should prolly bounce,’ Miller says, getting to his feet. ‘Thanks for the cola. Where do you want this?’

He’s holding out the crushed can. I take it from him, my mind still spinning.

‘So what do I do now?’ I ask.

Miller looks down at my hands. ‘Uh. Recycle it, I guess?’

‘No, not the can. Aidan. California. The film… I… I don’t understand.’

‘What’s there to understand? He’ll straighten it all out. He’s good at that stuff.’

I stare at his face, at his purplish swelling and cut lip. Miller stood in my flat still feels like some kind of alternative reality.

‘See you around, Lex,’ he says, and heads for my front door.

When Miller is gone, I get on the phone to Simone, still pacing inside my flat.

‘Sim, please tell me what on earth is going on.’

‘I wish I could. There’s a meeting taking place this afternoon in Palo Alto they want me to dial into, but that’s not until later tonight London time. Everybody I ask doesn’t seem to know what’s happening. How have you heard something?’

I don’t want to admit that a member of Rebel Heart gave me the information. ‘Well, will you please call me with an update later? I don’t care how late it is.’

‘Of course, consider it done.’

The call comes when I’m in bed.

‘You, my dear,’ Simone hums, ‘have officially been given the green light. No changes to the documentary required. At all .’

I bolt upright, my hand at my chest. ‘What changed?’

‘Seems the members of Rebel Heart managed to get hold of a copy of your documentary. Do you know how that could have happened?’

I swallow. ‘No idea.’

‘Well, you might think he hates you, but Aidan McArthur got up and sang your praises to the entire room. He read the management company and the record company the riot act. He said that if any changes were going to be made whatsoever to your documentary, then the band would flat out refuse to either endorse or promote it. He said that Ravi Bala was ready to announce his sexuality to the world and had already told those nearest and dearest to him, and was patiently awaiting the documentary’s release. He said that the band fully supported any covert filming completed without their prior knowledge because of its artistic integrity and overall contribution to the raw honesty of the piece. He said it with far more eloquence than I could, but that was the crux of it. He had Vaughn and the Silverpix creative team eating out of his hand. The management and record company guys went away with their tails between their legs.’

‘I don’t believe it.’

‘Well, believe it. It’s happening. Herrera is already talking about bringing the release forward. Maybe even a cinematic release before it goes to streaming. He’s completely ecstatic about your work. For your next project, I think we can be asking for a way bigger budget.’

‘Thank you, Sim,’ I breathe.

‘Get some sleep, Lexi. And well done. We’ll talk when I know more. For now, have a rest. You deserve it.’

I fall back against my pillows, my lips curling into a smile. I go back to my phone, navigating to the screen where my message to Aidan still languishes with no reply, and the single grey tick. Because I’m blocked, I can’t see his status.

I type the words ‘thank you’ then delete the message. There’s seems no point. Just because he’s apparently forgiven my use of concealed cameras doesn’t mean he still wants to be with me.

My smile fades as I convince myself of this fact, and it takes me a long while to drift off to sleep.