‘Does everyone think Lady Stardust is Liliana’s stage name and we’re just her backup band?’ asked Carter.
‘Don’t be stupid,’ I said. His skin was glowing with moisture from the wipe. I wanted to touch his arm, but I was too much of a coward. ‘No-one thinks that.’
‘Chris Ferguson thinks that,’ he retorted. ‘The whole studio audience of Full English thinks that.’
So it was Chris after all. I tried to remember if I had accidentally called him Clive.
‘People need a focal point to identify with the band,’ said Amir. ‘Lily is that focal point right now, but it’s just while we’re establishing you. You mustn’t worry too much about it.’ He moved smoothly on. ‘Now, we need to talk about your personal lives. No mentioning girlfriends in interviews, please.’ He knocked Carter’s arm in a faux-jokey move. ‘I know that’s not likely to be a problem for you.’
‘Why can’t I mention Tish?’ said Sam. ‘We’re not supposed to tell the truth now?’
‘It’s more about … smoothing over the details. We don’t want anyone to be disappointed.’
‘Who’d be disappointed that Sam has a girlfriend?’ I said.
Sam shoved me. ‘Charming.’
‘No – I mean … it’s not like they’d have a chance with you anyway, even if you were single,’ I said. ‘You’re not going to date someone in that audience.’
‘This is the business of selling dreams,’ said Amir. ‘Reality doesn’t really come into it.’
CHAPTER 22
Saskia was sitting cross-legged on our couch, with two steaming mugs on the coffee table. By now I was used to Amir and Saskia coming into the flat whenever they pleased, but I was still surprised by how comfortable they made themselves. She unfolded her long legs and I was instantly aware of how sweaty I was after my workout, and how short my limbs were.
‘I’ve made you a coffee,’ she said, motioning towards the second mug. ‘Black, no sugar, right?’
Gingerly, I took the seat opposite her: my abs were still aching and my arms felt like jelly. Sam ducked into the bathroom.
‘We’re not paying OJ to train two of you.’ Saskia sipped her herbal tea.
I ignored that: I’d be far less motivated to get up early for training without Sam, and she didn’t sound too annoyed. ‘Did you come here to talk about my workout regime?’
She held out her phone, open on the Full English clip. The girl on the screen was hiding behind a curtain of hair, her arms crossed over her rose-print lap.
‘Body language,’ she said. ‘Look at how you’re sitting, defensive and unsure of yourself.’ She glanced at me. ‘You’re doing it again now. Try sitting up straight.’ Saskia always had great posture, but now she flicked back her hair and wiggled her shoulders to demonstrate. She reached out and pushed my shoulders back, and I pretended not to notice that she wiped her hand on the couch afterwards.
‘Plant your feet flat on the floor. Legs together. Uncross your arms, hands in your lap, and pretend you’ve got a thread in the centre of your head, pulling you up straight. That’s much better. Now, make eye contact.’ My shoulders rolled forwards and she pushed them back again. ‘That’s it, now hold it steady.’ The bathroom door opened and Sam padded down the hall. She clicked her fingers in front of my face. ‘Lily! Eye contact.’
I looked at her again and we held each other’s gaze until I broke away.
‘It feels weird. Wrong. Like I’m staring.’
‘It might feel like that at the time, but television is a different world. People don’t act normal when there’s a camera on them – and it’s your job to have a camera on you.’
‘That’s not why I got into this. I thought being a singer would mean … you know, singing.’
‘Well, you can be a penniless singer and never do another interview or you can play this game with Beatnik and see where it takes you.’ She looked around the flat as if she needed to remind me the record company was the whole reason we were there. ‘The single’s doing great. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? A few interviews are a pretty small price to pay for a bit of Supernova buzz.’
‘There’s Supernova buzz?’
She smiled. ‘That’s got your attention, huh? Amir didn’t want me to say anything, but he’s got high hopes. So let’s get you ready.’
Carter stumbled into the kitchen dressed only in boxers, his hair sticking up at odd angles, and started messily assembling cereal. I blushed and looked back at Saskia. I didn’t mind him being so beautiful, but did he have to be so naked all the time?
‘I’d kill for a coffee,’ Sam called from his room, and I took a guilty sip from my rapidly cooling mug.
‘Why don’t you try focusing on the bridge of my nose?’ said Saskia. ‘It’ll look like you’re making eye contact, but it might feel more natural.’
‘And what am I meant to do about the questions?’ I asked, shifting my gaze to the crease between her eyes. ‘Amir said it himself. I just clammed up.’
She smiled. ‘I’ve an idea for that. You were fine when we prepped the night before and you did great when you played onstage. So what’s different about being on the interview couch?’
I shrugged. ‘I guess … I’m not singing?’
‘You’re not performing,’ she nodded. ‘When you’re onstage, you get to play Lily Donadi, rock star. But when you’re on the couch, you’re just Liliana. I think that’s what scares you, and that’s why you clam up. I think if we give you a persona you’ll have a lot more confidence.’
‘And let me guess,’ Carter called over the kitchen counter with his mouth full. ‘Liliana gets a persona, but Sammy, Rich and I just have to be ourselves.’
‘You three didn’t lose the power of speech on national television,’ Saskia reminded him tartly. ‘And anyway, the idea I have for Lily’s persona is based on something you said.’
Carter pushed down on the French press with both hands. ‘I should be getting a commission.’
I thought of my photo on the single cover, and how I’d liked the idea of hiding behind a mask. Maybe a fake persona would be a good thing – depending on what Saskia had in mind. ‘What’s your idea?’ I asked. ‘If Carter’s come up with it, I want veto power.’
Saskia smiled her close-lipped smile again. ‘It’s Lily Donadi: Perennial Single Girl.’
Carter laughed so hard he spat cornflakes onto the bench.
‘It’s basically a combination of the song – you know, “I’m with him, and he’s King Cutie” – and what Carter said yesterday about being more “fluid”.’ She seemed to be enjoying this.
‘Carter should learn to speak for himself,’ I said drily.
‘The Perennial Single Girl is a playful, flirtatious girl who secretly yearns for long-term love.’ Saskia had the same faraway look she’d had when she’d unveiled the Orange County babe thing. Sam came out of his room and poured his own coffee from the French press. Carter was still fighting the urge to laugh. ‘She is relatable and down-to-earth, perfect to appeal to the teenage girl cohort, but she also has an aspirational quality. And there’s room for it to evolve, if you ever get your happy ending.’
‘I don’t yearn for love,’ I said, hoping Carter wasn’t watching too closely.
‘Everyone yearns for love,’ said Saskia. ‘It’s why pop songs even exist.’
•
Dennis Chang had distractingly white teeth and very good hair and was famous for dating reality TV starlets half his age. His show on Wednesday mornings was compulsory viewing for anyone who was into new music, and Richie and Carter had been talking about the interview all week. So had Saskia and Amir, but for different reasons – this was my big chance to put all my new training into action, and save my reputation from the Full English interview.
We could play the single so smoothly now that we barely batted an eyelid, although today Sam looked slightly tense before we went on. He was still on at Amir to let us play a full-length gig instead of a one-song routine, and Amir was still dis
missing him with a smile. When we put down our instruments, I stalked over to the couch in my heels with my head high, hearing Saskia’s voice in my head. My hair had been styled off my face this time, so there was nowhere to hide.
‘What a great track,’ Dennis said. I held my shoulders back and tried to imagine a string from my head to the ceiling. He was much better looking than he seemed on TV.
‘Thank you,’ I said – or rather, the Perennial Single Girl said, complete with a wide, flirtatious smile. ‘We like to think so.’
There was a flutter of laughter in the audience and I wanted to turn away, but forced myself to look out at them. Saskia had said I should focus on one person in the sea of faces, so I picked a teenage girl in a floral dress in the front row.
‘What was the inspiration behind that track?’ Dennis asked.
‘“King Cutie” is something my best friend, Phoenix, would call a guy who’s, like, always single but who’s never alone – if you get my drift.’ The Perennial Single Girl had a close group of friends and Saskia had said I should mention them. ‘I think we all know a guy like that,’ I added.
The audience answered with a few giggles. I clasped my sweaty hands in my lap so no-one would notice how much they were trembling. The boys were under strict instructions not to answer unless I needed saving, so I was on my own.
Dennis held up the single, showing my flash-washed face, bubblegum-pink milkshake dripping down my skin. ‘And this is you on the cover here, isn’t it?’
‘Yeah, that’s me,’ I said. I’d prepared for this. ‘I was just trying to bring the boys to the yard, but I guess I was going about it all the wrong way.’ There was another ripple of laughter and, off-stage, Amir was nodding along.
Dennis added, ‘That’s a question we’ve had from viewers, actually – are you single?’
‘I am,’ I told his nose. My whole persona was based on this question. ‘I mean, I’d like to find the right person, but I’m kind of fussy.’ I was suddenly struck with a brainwave and smiled directly at the girl in the floral dress as I added, ‘I guess I just haven’t found my own King Cutie yet.’
Beside me, Carter let out a startled laugh. ‘Oh, Jim,’ he murmured, too quiet for anyone else to hear. Amir looked ecstatic.
After Dennis Chang, the interviews became easier and I even started to warm to the persona. We fell into a routine: Sam was gracious, Richie monosyllabic, Carter sarcastic, and I was Perennial Single Girl. It didn’t feel like lying – more like a caricature of our own personalities, a safety blanket for when we were in the public eye. I was single. I wouldn’t have described that state as ‘perennial’, or part of my identity, but it was true.
At home, we also fell into a routine: arguing over who had eaten the last chocolate digestive or whose turn it was to do the washing up. I wrote music with Sam late at night, sometimes joining in when he Skyped Tish after her Subway shift, tried to keep up with my studies, and dodged Carter’s girls in the mornings. Every Sunday night, I checked in with Dad and Jack. Phoenix Skyped when they remembered, usually in the middle of the Australian night when they could be sure the time difference would work out.
‘So what’s happening with him?’ they asked one morning as I was waiting for my coffee order at the local Caffé Nero.
‘If you mean, what’s happening with me and Carter, absolutely nothing,’ I said. I watched as the barista skilfully poured milk into four KeepCups. ‘He’s still a massive player.’
They pulled a sympathetic face. ‘Must be a barrel of laughs to be living with the guy.’
‘He brings home a different girl every night, and then they turn up in the kitchen wearing his T-shirts.’ And he hadn’t tried to hit on me once, despite us sharing a flat. I was too proud to tell Phoenix that I still fancied him, but I knew my face betrayed me.
‘Oh, honey.’
‘It makes me not want to wear his T-shirts anymore,’ I said, trying to lighten the mood.
They snorted. ‘I did notice you’d changed your style. Much less tomboy.’
I tugged at the hem of the silk tea dress they’d let me keep after last night’s TV slot. I was wearing it with my trusty Sid Vicious jacket and Cons, so it wasn’t an entirely Beatnikified outfit, but still pretty different to anything I would’ve worn back in Australia.
‘You know, I’ve always liked your clothes,’ they said. ‘You always dressed like you just didn’t give a shit about fashion. It was very androgynous and cool.’
‘That’s what Sam said. He thinks I’m selling out.’
They peered at the screen over their glasses. ‘Are you?’
‘Are you saying you don’t like my new dress?’ I flicked the camera so they could see the whole ensemble, and they laughed.
‘I do like the dress. I’m just not sure it’s really you.’
CHAPTER 23
It took a few weeks, but I started to notice a difference in my strength. When I lifted an amp it took a lot less effort. Then, during one training session, OJ left the eight-kilo kettlebell on the rack and handed me the ten-kilo one with a delighted smile. When I peeled off my activewear afterwards and examined myself in the mirror, there was a line of muscle down my belly.
At the click of my bedroom door I whirled round, whipping the sheet off my bed to cover me. It was one of Carter’s girls, wearing his Aston Villa shirt as a dress.
‘Do you mind –?’ I was too horrified to finish the sentence. If I ran into Carter’s one-night-stands in the kitchen they usually ignored me, got themselves a glass of water and padded back to his bedroom, but this one was frozen to the spot. I clung to the sheet and waited for her to back away, but she took an unsteady step forwards instead.
‘Lady Stardust ...’ she spluttered.
I had got used to girls coming up to me after a TV slot, but this was new. I clutched the sheet like a lifeline and glanced at the mirror behind me to check I was properly covered at the back. I couldn’t move across the room without it coming undone.
‘You’re not trying to sneak out, are you?’ Carter looped his arm around her waist and she jumped away from him like he’d bitten her. ‘What’s going on?’ he said.
‘You tell me,’ I muttered. I tried not to look too closely at his bare chest, the definition of his shoulders, the way he held her. I tried not to wish I was the one in his arms.
‘That’s Lady Stardust,’ she said.
Carter didn’t say anything, just returned her stare.
‘I didn’t realise you were … I mean, when you said you were in the band, I thought you were the backup band,’ she said.
Carter’s gaze flicked to the mirror behind me and I hoped to god the sheet hadn’t come open at the back.
‘Get. Out. Of. My. Room.’
He grabbed her hand and pulled her from the doorway, clicking the latch back into place. I bolted the door behind them, my hands shaking. Sifting through my clothes, I fished out jeans and an old T-shirt, trying to find the opposite of what Lady Stardust would wear. I even grabbed my old tartan jumper, but it just reminded me of Ellie and I didn’t want to think of her right now. I threw it back onto the bed.
Carter was in the kitchen, fully clothed and leaning against the counter. I pressed past him and started furiously making myself breakfast, clanging open cupboard doors. He held up his hands. ‘In fairness, I think she was looking for the bathroom.’
‘You have to get rid of her.’
‘Oh, really?’ he said mildly. ‘I was about to propose.’
I ploughed on despite his sarcasm. ‘And you shouldn’t be hooking up with fans.’
‘Why the hell not? There’s got to be some perks.’
Because I don’t want you to didn’t quite cut it, so I said the first thing that came into my head. ‘It’s a power imbalance.’
His eyebrows shot up. ‘I didn’t realise there was a code of ethics,’ he said. ‘And to be honest, I don’t think she knew who I was anyway. She didn’t start acting weird until she saw you.’
‘Well
, now she knows,’ I snapped. ‘And I’m not here to deal with your fans. So you’d better make sure she doesn’t come back.’
The bathroom door opened and I heard her footsteps heading down the hall. I tilted my head towards the sound, and he threw me a look and followed her back to his room.
A power imbalance. God, had I really said that? If I’d really expected him to change now that we were living in London with no Ms Marney to lay down the law, the joke was on me.
•
When Amir arrived, he cast a disapproving glance over my pre-Beatnik outfit, but didn’t protest. We’d be in the studio today, away from public attention, and he’d always maintained that the Perennial Single Girl persona was only for scheduled appearances. ‘It’s chilly outside,’ he said tartly. ‘You’ll need a jumper.’
I went back to my room to find the tartan jumper, but it wasn’t on the bed, where I’d left it. Amir jangled his keys at the front door while I poked around in the laundry basket.
‘Hey, are you doing laundry?’ said Carter, appearing behind me. ‘Can I throw a couple of things in?’
‘First of all, I am not doing your laundry,’ I said, straightening up. ‘Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. And second, have you seen my tartan jumper?’
He looked at me sideways. ‘I don’t think it’d fit me. Anyway, you’re the one who nicks my clothes, Jim, not the other way round.’ He turned to leave, then stopped. ‘Oh.’
‘Oh?’
He looked nervous. ‘I think Olivia might’ve, erm ... borrowed it.’
‘What?’
‘She went back into your room,’ he said. At least he had the decency to look sheepish. ‘She said it was an accident. I didn’t think anything of it. But when she left, her handbag looked very … full.’
I rounded on him. ‘Why would anyone steal my jumper?’
‘Lily, we have to go,’ sang Amir from the door.
Carter stepped closer to me. ‘You can get a new one. Don’t worry about it.’
‘This is what I meant,’ I said. ‘That is why you shouldn’t bring fans home.’
Stars Like Us Page 11
