The Intern

by Gabrielle Tozer

  The only downside? I had three minutes to prepare.

  ‘It’s no biggie,’ Liani assured me as I scribbled down questions and notes. ‘Just ask them about their album, what they look for in a girl, what makes them happy. Forget they’re famous and pretend you’re chatting with your boy best friend — any nice, normal guy!’

  My lack of ability with ‘any nice, normal guy’ clearly hadn’t come across to Liani. Stammering, stuttering and accusing guys of potential burglary and murder were just a few sociopathic behaviours that occurred when I was out of my comfort zone. Which was always.

  Especially today.

  ‘What about all the drama with Billy in the papers? The girls? The partying?’ I asked.

  Liani placed a small black dictaphone in my lap. ‘Those questions are probably in the too-hard basket for today. Keep it light and you’ll be great.’ And she rushed out the door, back to her emergency meeting with Rae and editorial.

  I scrawled two more questions and an uneven heart in the corner of the page, then went back to the studio to find Billy and Anthony.

  I was up.

  7.

  ‘So, what inspired the title of your latest album, All The Riches?’

  I wondered if my question was even in proper English. Due to nerves, there was a chance it had come out as ‘So, what contrived the teapot of my greatest alimony, Stall The Glitches?’

  Billy smirked. ‘First you wanted to know about our favourite foods, and now this? I suppose you’ll ask about our childhoods next?’

  ‘Er, sorry … um, let me …’

  His tone softened. ‘I’m only kidding. The album title came from our desire to get filthy stinking rich, retire by thirty and never work a day again in our lives. But you can’t print that, can you?’

  I felt my jaw drop to an embarrassingly low level.

  Anthony burst out laughing and batted Billy over the head. ‘B, she’s just doing her job. Stop being mean to the magazine girl.’

  The magazine girl. The girl from the magazine. I liked that. But Anthony was wrong: I wasn’t doing my job. If I was, I’d be asking the real questions, the tough questions, the things that people wanted to know. The girls. The drugs. The partying. I remembered my mock interview with James and how he’d pressed me for uncomfortable details, which had resulted in a far more interesting conversation.

  I cleared my throat, fighting nerves. ‘Let’s change the pace a bit.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Billy, you’ve been spotted out and about with not one but seven different girls in the past fortnight. Who are they and what’s the story with each of them?’

  Anthony’s eyes widened.

  Billy, a perpetual smirker, shrugged his shoulders. He was clearly proud of his conquests. ‘What can I say? I have a lot of friends.’

  Claire, swathed in a fresh coating of perfume, sat on a couch nearby, glued to her phone as usual. She sniffed and looked over to make sure I wasn’t asking anything inappropriate (I’d been warned against anything to do with rehab), then returned to her electronic plaything. I revved up for my next question.

  ‘What do you say to the rumours that one of your, er, friends is now three months pregnant and you’re the father? Especially when you’ve been spotted with other, um, friends since?’

  Billy’s face darkened. ‘Ahhh …’

  ‘Is the baby definitely yours?’ I pushed. ‘What kind of involvement would you like to have with his or her life?’

  Anthony’s eyes narrowed. Billy had frozen and didn’t reply. Claire was no help to him; she’d strutted off to bark orders at Carla about what brands of jeans the guys would and wouldn’t wear.

  Anthony broke the silence. ‘Look, Josie, aren’t you meant to ask one question at a time? Maybe we should move on to something else. Like, did you hear about Jamie falling off the stage in Paris two weeks ago?’ He forced a laugh.

  Anthony was right. I shouldn’t have shot off the questions so fast, but that wasn’t going to stop me from finding out the truth. No way. Not when I’d scratched the surface and realised there was so much further to go.

  ‘Okay, let me rephrase that,’ I said.

  ‘Great,’ muttered Billy, cracking his knuckles.

  ‘What are your thoughts on the rumours that you’re about to become a father?’

  It was as though we’d all taken a collective breath. Not a word was uttered. Not a sound, not a sigh, until …

  ‘They’re true,’ said Billy.

  ‘But don’t you think that — wait, what?’

  My head jolted up and I locked eyes with Billy.

  Anthony murmured, ‘Shut your mouth, bro,’ and turned around to look for Claire.

  ‘That’s what you wanted to hear, wasn’t it?’ asked Billy. ‘The truth? Well, you’ve got it. I’m going to be a dad.’

  ‘And there goes our fan base,’ burst out Anthony. ‘Billy, this interview is over.’

  ‘But please,’ I said, aware things were unravelling fast. Liani was going to flip out if I lost this interview. I didn’t even want to know what Rae was capable of. Torture with paper cuts? One thousand hours of photocopying? The woman wore heels that were higher than me, surely they could do some serious damage?

  ‘No,’ spat Anthony. ‘We’re out of here.’

  Billy sat in silence with his head lowered while Anthony stormed over to Claire. Desperate to save the situation, I tried to reason with Billy.

  ‘I’m so sorry. Can we please start again? The last thing I want is for you to leave. Please, say something. Anything.’

  Again, our eyes locked. A shiver shot through me and I wondered if he felt it, too. But without a smirk, a smile or even a goodbye, Billy stood up and joined the others, leaving me alone to wallow in my first failed interview.

  Claire glared over her shoulder at me, her butt as plump as a Christmas ham. ‘Your boss is gonna hear from me. You better believe it, girly.’

  The band exited the studio, leaving a stunned crew wondering why the celebrity shoot had ended before they’d snapped a single frame. Carla sat on the floor, legs crossed, her head in her hands. The others whispered together, exchanging dark looks.

  Jeremy, the photographer, separated from the pack and plonked down next to me. ‘So are they coming back or what?’

  ‘Doesn’t look like it,’ I murmured.

  He looked over at the crew and shook his head. People started moving again. Carla packed suits into dark, black bags, while Jeremy’s assistant pulled down props and switched off the huge hanging lights on the other side of the studio.

  ‘What are you going to do now?’ Jeremy asked me.

  I didn’t know. Changing my identity and flying to the Caribbean sounded like a plan.

  ‘I, ah, guess I’d better see Rae and come clean,’ I finally murmured.

  He sighed. ‘I don’t envy you. The last person who “came clean” to Rae now works as the night-shift manager at Happy Burgertown.’

  I cringed. ‘That’s pretty bad.’

  ‘Wait, did I say manager? I meant cleaner. How are you with a mop?’

  I looked at Jeremy. ‘On a scale of one to ten, how dead am I? Honestly?’

  ‘I just hope you’ve packed a bulletproof vest, kid.’

  Pretty dead then, I decided. Pretty freaking dead.

  I waited outside Rae’s empty office, trying to ignore the churning, whipping anxiety in my stomach. I willed it to go away, but it only whipped harder.

  With a ladylike clearing of her throat, Rae strode past me into her office. As always, Liani hovered a few paces behind her. She paused in front of me. ‘Ready, Josie?’

  I managed to squeak ‘Yes’ and followed Liani inside, my stomach thrashing with every step.

  This situation had the potential to become a Code Vomit. And from my previous experiences with Code Vomits (there had been plenty), I knew they weren’t to be messed with. Not throwing up on Rae’s four-thousand-dollar office couch became my most pressing goal.

  Rae clicked her
nails on the desk and stared at me with big, smoky eyes. ‘Well, you’ve had quite the morning,’ she said. ‘Let’s start with what you think happened.’

  I swallowed. ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Well, I asked them basic questions about the band, which seemed to bore Billy, so I decided to bump up the pace, you know? I heard about the baby rumours a few days ago — my sister loves Greed. She’s got all their albums, including that awful Christmas one with the kitten wearing a hat on the cover. I was reading one of her —’

  ‘The point, Josie.’

  ‘I asked Billy about all the girls he’s been dating.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And the pregnancy rumours.’

  Rae’s eyes flickered for a moment. ‘Then what happened?’

  ‘The other guy — Anthony — cracked it and ended the interview when Billy admitted it was true, he was having a kid. Rae, Liani, I’m so sorry. I mean, so sorry. I don’t know what to say or do.’

  Of course I didn’t. I’d never been responsible for a bunch of pop stars fleeing from the set of a photo shoot before.

  ‘Josie, it’s no secret this will stuff up the magazine’s budget, which, according to the suits in finance, is meant to be locked down,’ Rae said.

  ‘I know, I was an idiot —’

  ‘Not only that. Greed’s manager has flames coming out of her ears, the crew lost a great shoot opportunity and Carla’s wasted a week calling in designer clothes.’

  ‘Are you going to fire me?’ I wished Rae’s office floor would morph into a black hole.

  Rae sat up straighter. ‘Well, to be honest, Josie … I couldn’t be happier.’

  I wasn’t sure if I’d heard her right. ‘Happier?’

  ‘Every one of our competitors wanted that story — and you got the exclusive.’

  ‘I did? An exclusive?’

  ‘You did.’

  I turned to Liani, who beamed at me. I felt as though I was floating, blissed out on a cloud of happy. Even Rae was smiling — a small one, but a smile nonetheless.

  ‘That was great work, Josie,’ Liani said. ‘Our own editorial team have been trying for weeks to get a juicy quote from Billy — or any of the boys — without success. That’s why I didn’t encourage you to push him. I thought they’d just serve up another puff piece. How wrong I was.’

  Rae leaned forward. ‘Josie, I’m giving you the chance to break this story. Three hundred words. Keep it short, sharp, snappy. Nail it and you’ll get a by-line.’

  A by-line. My first by-line. Stunned didn’t even begin to describe what I felt at that moment. ‘Oh thank you, Rae. I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘Say, “Yes, Rae”, then get to work. I need it in thirty minutes, max. This story needs to go live on our website before Greed’s publicist has time to issue a press release.’

  ‘Okay,’ I replied. ‘I’m onto it.’

  ‘Take a long lunch once it’s done. And Josie?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Try not to scare away anyone else today.’

  ‘Yes, Rae.’

  I left her office accompanied by an imaginary troupe of munchkins, rainbows and singing animals. Cloud Nine had never felt so good.

  Later that afternoon, once my feature story was handed in and published online, I was free to leave. As I waited by the elevators, a whiff of rose perfume wafted past my nostrils. I turned to see Ava behind me, looking poised and striking as always. Her usual flowing curls were pulled into a fierce bun on top of her head. Her lips twitched in what may have been a smile but came across as a grimace.

  ‘Josephine, on your way home?’

  ‘Yep.’ I smiled back. A real smile.

  ‘Busy day?’

  ‘I suppose you could say that.’

  I swallowed nervously. Ava clearly knew about my interview with Greed. The entire office had whispered about it all afternoon. The silence was becoming painful so I clogged it with nonsense, as usual.

  ‘So how was helping out the beauty editor? What’s she like? I bet it was really great seeing all that amazing beauty gear. Beauty booty. Booty. It’s a funny word, isn’t it? So how did you sort it all out? Boxes? Piles? Piles in boxes? Or did the boxes go into piles then into other boxes?’

  ‘Jerms mentioned he was really, really disappointed that he didn’t get to do the celebrity photo shoot today,’ Ava said, her head tilted to one side. ‘Such a shame.’

  I took a sharp breath at the sudden change of subject. ‘You spoke to Jerms … er, Jeremy?’

  ‘Yeah, for ages. Sia — that’s the beauty editor — and I got everything sorted quickly, so there was all this extra time to kill. That’s when Jerms asked me to be in a photo shoot. He’d called in three male models, too, and it was fabulous.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Well, Carla had worked so hard, and we couldn’t let those suits go to waste after … well, you know. What am I saying — of course you know. You must feel awful,’ she rattled on. ‘I’d be so embarrassed, I probably couldn’t show my face here again. Oh, but don’t listen to silly old me. They understand you’re just a child, and everyone knows children make mistakes.’

  I bristled at her use of the C-word. As though I were a toddler with pigtails who’d smeared apple puree over the office walls. ‘Actually, Rae said it all worked out —’

  ‘Sorry, got to run,’ Ava announced, clearly not sorry at all. ‘I’m getting my make-up touched up again. Jerms is going to squeeze in an extra shot of me for my modelling portfolio.’

  She spun on her heel and walked away. Her perfume lingered, stinking out the foyer and confusing my thoughts. Ava had said Jeremy was ‘really, really disappointed’. I didn’t want to be on Jeremy’s bad side. He’d probably use my lighting test shots as a dartboard. Or toilet paper. And as for Ava just wanting to say hello? Yeah, right. Sash magazine’s office had become a gladiator arena, and only the best intern would win.

  Despite my nerves and apprehension, maybe this was my time. My time to feel like a budding journo, to have a fantastic internship, to get one step closer to winning five thousand dollars and a regular by-line. The promise of such glory was made even sweeter by the thought of snatching the prizes away from a nasty person like Ava.

  I stared at the metallic grey of the lift door, willing it to open. Moments later, the lift arrived, whirring and grinding. I’d just slammed my finger onto the ground-floor button when someone cried out behind me, ‘Hold the lift.’

  It was Carla, wheeling the rack of men’s suits. I held my arm out to keep the door open as she squeezed in.

  Once she was safe inside, she breathed out loudly and yanked her hair into a messy ponytail. ‘Thanks, Jordie.’

  I nodded, too embarrassed to say anything after what had happened earlier.

  ‘Or is it Jodie?’

  ‘Josie, actually.’

  ‘Sorry about that. When it comes to names I’ve got a memory like a goldfish. I called Rae “Fay” last week.’

  A snicker bubbled up inside me and erupted before I could stop it escaping. Carla laughed, too.

  ‘Carla, I’m so sorry about all this,’ I said, gesturing to the suits. ‘Far out, I feel like I’ve spent the whole day apologising. “I’m sorry I’m a terrible interviewer, Billy”, “I’m sorry for ruining your shoot, Jeremy”, “I’m sorry for wasting Sash’s money, Rae”. And I am sorry, I really am. Maybe I’m not cut out for this whole magazine scene.’

  Carla shrugged. ‘What’s to be sorry about? Rae is going off in there. Apparently your story’s already had more than eight thousand hits and it’s only been up for twenty minutes. Suits or no suits, Greed will sell our magazine. And as they say, when Mama’s happy, everyone’s happy.’

  Ding! We’d reached the ground floor. Carla waved goodbye and legged it toward the courier dock with her rack of suits.

  As I stepped out onto the street, my phone beeped. It was Angel with ‘devastating news’: we hadn’t scored invites to Holly Bentley’s party, which meant no Pete Jordan make-out session for me. It loo
ked like my pash drought would probably continue forever, but I wasn’t worried. I’d impressed one of the biggest magazine editors in the country today and nothing was going to bring me down.

  8.

  A phone was ringing, but I couldn’t be sure if it was in real life or in my dreams. Too sleepy to care, I rolled over on Tim’s couch and buried my face in the pillow. It’ll stop eventually, I told myself. But it didn’t. It just kept ringing. And it was my ringtone.

  Eyes clamped shut, I stumbled up from the couch in search of the culprit. I lunged in the direction of the noise, which seemed to come from the carpet in the hallway. Stubbing my toe on a box, I swore loudly and picked up my phone. It was an unknown number, but I answered it anyway.

  ‘Hello?’ I croaked. A quick glance at the clock on the wall showed it was just after 6.30 am.

  ‘Hi, Josie?’ a woman’s voice chimed.

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘I’m so sorry to bother you. It’s Liani. From Sash. Did I wake you?’

  ‘No, not at all.’ Yes, yes, you did, I sleepily slurred in my mind. I knew roosters that didn’t wake this early.

  I sat back down on the couch, straightening my hair and wiping under my eyes, as though Liani could see me. Luckily, she couldn’t. I was in a T-shirt with rainbows on the front.

  ‘Josie, I have some good and bad news.’

  ‘Oh?’ Forget coffee. A phrase like that was an effective way to wake me up.

  ‘The good news is your exclusive on Billy has gone off even more overnight. Rae’s phone is ringing off the hook. Everyone wants to know more — more from Billy, more detail about his reaction. Rae wants a second story, written up as a feature this time.’

  ‘I’m speechless. You’re saying Rae wants me to do it? Me specifically?’

  ‘Yes, you were the only person there, and Rae wants to keep it authentic. The bad news is,’ continued Liani, ‘Rae wants it done today.’