Rising Star

by JS Taylor

  But Tammy seems to take this as perfectly reasonable.

  “Adam’s a good guy,” she says, nodding her head approvingly. “It’s really kind of him to help you out with a gift for George. That is above and beyond. Perks of having a rich boyfriend eh?”

  “I know,” I sigh, making a mental note to thank Adam again. “I’m really lucky.”

  “I didn’t get George anything yet,” admits Tammy. “No cash in the bank. I was hoping for a miracle.”

  “Share my gift,” I urge. “Seriously. It’s much too generous for one person. We’ll say we both chipped in.”

  “No,” Tammy shakes her head. “I couldn’t. Besides, it’s from you and Adam – isn’t it?”

  She looks at me slyly, with a little wink.

  “I think it’s a bit too early for joint gifts,” I say with certainty. “Besides, no-one is supposed to know about us. I can’t start giving presents as a couple.”

  Tammy shrugs.

  “Look, I insist we both give the earrings,” I say, as George turns and starts waving us to come closer. “I won’t take no for an answer Tams. It’s much too elaborate for me to give on my own. You’d be helping me out.”

  “Well, if you insist,” smiles Tammy gratefully, as we move over to George’s huddle. “That Adam Morgan is just a regular white knight, isn’t he?” she adds with a wink.

  “Oh Tammy,” I say, guiding her towards George’s friends. “You have no idea.”

  We approach the group, and George’s school-friends air-kiss us both elaborately, and coo over our new found fame.

  Last time we met them, these girls hardly threw a glance our way. But I guess now we’re part of a TV girl band, they find us a little more interesting.

  “So tell us all the gossip,” gushes Alexa, pushing her Alice band deeper into her mousy hair. I notice her thin lips have been teased out with ill-judged pink lipstick. “Who is Deven dating?” she adds.

  George’s other friend Taggie, gives an ear-splitting squeal.

  I wince, and beside me, I feel Tammy start.

  “Oh my goodness! Is he single?” Taggie demands, her icy blue eyes widening beneath perfect frosted make-up. “Tell me Deven’s single! Can you introduce me?”

  “He’s coming later,” says George proudly. “But I think he likes Summer,” she adds, with a conspiratorial whisper.

  “Really?” Taggie eyes me unkindly. “I thought Deven’s family were from Hampstead Heath.”

  She doesn’t elaborate on why this might preclude me from Deven’s favour. But I feel Tammy bristle beside me. I rest my hand on her arm. The last thing we need is more fireworks.

  “Would you like to open your present George?” I ask, by way of distraction. “Or do you want to save it for your actual birthday tomorrow?”

  “You got me a present?” George claps her hands to her face as if this was totally unexpected – when she’s been hinting about a gift for weeks. “Now! I’ll open it now!”

  “It’s from me and Tammy,” I say, handing her over the discreet little wrapped box.

  Of course George recognises the wrapping paper instantly. Her eyes grow wide, taking it in.

  “You didn’t?” she breathes, looking incredulously to me, and then pulling the soft green paper away with her long fingers. “Tiffany?”

  I glance at Tammy, who’s looking a little uncomfortable, and give her a reassuring smile.

  George’s friends lean in close as the jewellery box is eased open, and the pearl earrings glitter into view.

  “Oh my God!” gasps George, peering closer at the earrings. “They are beautiful.”

  She’s looking at me and Tammy again.

  “Seriously,” she says, “thank you soooo much. They’re perfect.”

  Slowly she lifts them out, as Alexa and Taggie coo approvingly. George slips out her studs, and carefully hangs the pearls.

  “How do they look?” she asks, twisting her head so the pearls catch the light.

  “They look great on you,” I say. “Really elegant.”

  Tammy nods in agreement.

  “Summer chose them,” she says, obviously feeling too guilty to take credit. “She did a great job.”

  George pulls out a make-up mirror and examines the earrings in the tiny glass.

  “I love them,” she says, snapping the mirror shut, and leaning forward to kiss Tammy and me enthusiastically on each cheek. “I’ll wear them for our next performance,” she promises. “They’ll always remind me of what a great band we are.”

  Tammy and I are grinning. It’s great to see George so happy with her gift.

  “When is your next performance?” asks Alexa.

  “Oh,” says George, rolling her eyes. “They’ve introduced this stupid new concept. A quick-fire video round. It airs tomorrow night.”

  “That hardly matters does it?” asks Taggie. “Your band got double the votes of anyone else last round. There’s no way you’re going out.”

  “I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” admits George. “We had the worst luck with our collaboration band.”

  George catches Tammy’s glower, and deftly changes her next remark.

  “We’re not sure the video came out as well as it might have done,” George decides.

  Even Tammy can’t disagree with this. We all left the shoot very despondent. With the argument that took place, there was a definite lack of connection between the groups.

  “Still,” says Taggie confidently, “even if the video’s bad, you won’t go out. It will be that garage band.”

  “Let’s hope so,” says George, taking a long sip of her cocktail. “Although,” she observes, swallowing a large mouthful of gin martini, “if we stay in, that’s another stress. Because we’ll only have two days to prepare for our performance.”

  Taggie looks outraged.

  “That’s awful,” she says. “They shouldn’t be able to treat you that way.”

  George gives an airy kind of shrug. As though she’s used to hardship – even though she’s been the most vocal about the unfairness of the Sing-Win format.

  “I guess that’s showbiz,” she says, with a light little laugh.

  Taggie and Alexa look impressed. Tammy snorts rudely into her cocktail.

  George has done the most complaining since the start.

  “You should quit,” says Alexa, waving her glass of white wine. “Don’t you get your trust fund at twenty-one? You don’t need a band any more. Wasn’t it just a hobby?”

  What?

  Tammy and I exchange amazed glances.

  George gets a trust fund at twenty-one? This is news to us.

  Taggie raises her eyebrows, noticing our faces. Even George has the grace to look embarrassed.

  But Alexa keeps talking, oblivious.

  “Didn’t you say, you’d leave the band and find a husband when you got your trust fund?” Alexa says sipping her white wine, “You’ve got the money now. Use it while you’re still young. Travel around and find a rich handsome man. Before all the good ones are snapped up.”

  Alexa nods at the wisdom of her own statement, and takes another dainty sip of wine.

  Tammy and I are standing in a state of shock.

  George has gone rigid with embarrassment, and a slow blush is creeping up her face. Taggie is watching the three of us with interest.

  “You were planning to leave the band?” says Tammy finally, breaking the silence.

  George blushes even deeper.

  “I didn’t say that exactly,” she mutters, “I mean, that was before Sing-Win.”

  George shoots an admonishing glance at Alexa.

  “I didn’t say I’d leave the group Alexa,” she snaps, “I said if I didn’t make it as a singer, my trust fund would come in handy.”

  Alexa looks unmoved. “I’m sure you said…” she begins.

  But George cuts her off.

  “Things have changed now,” she says, casting her attention back to Tammy and I. “You remember how bad it was. We were living
on baked beans, for God’s sake.”

  She gives a little laugh, but Tammy looks furious.

  “I never considered leaving the group,” Tammy says, her voice angry and hurt, “not for an instant. Even if I’d won the lottery I would have stuck it out. But I guess loyalty isn’t part of your class,” she concludes.

  “Tammy I…” George’s hand clutches anxiously at her neck, where the red of her embarrassment is still evident. “It wasn’t like that,” she says finally.

  “Let’s just enjoy George’s birthday,” I say, in a falsely bright voice. “We can talk about this singing stuff later. It’s boring for Alexa and Taggie.”

  Taggie raises an eyebrow as if she’s about to disagree.

  But luckily, she’s suddenly distracted by something on the other side of the bar.

  I follow her gaze. A collective hush has fanned out over the bar.

  Deven has just walked in. And though he’s not my type, I can’t deny he has a real charisma about him.

  Every girl seems to turn and watch Deven, as he saunters casually over to George. He air-kisses her cheek, apparently dropping instantly into the protocol of a Chelsea bar, and then hands her a card.

  “For you,” he says. “I’m sorry, I didn’t have time to get a gift. Let me buy you a drink.”

  George beams, her earlier discomfort forgotten. “Actually,” she confesses, “my parents have paid for the bar tonight.”

  Deven winks, “then maybe we’ll have to go elsewhere.”

  Wow. Is Deven flirting with George?

  I notice Tammy shoot me a puzzled look, and I shrug.

  I guess Deven has an agenda which doesn’t involve me anymore. The more I know of Deven, the more I think his every move is calculated to win the show.

  For now, I’m just pleased the pressure is off me. But I can’t help but think less of him. Deven seems to have some tactical agenda to his dating.

  “And who are your gorgeous friends?” adds Deven, turning his attention to Taggie and Alexa. They both virtually swoon on the spot. Tammy rolls her eyes.

  George’s friends make their stammering introductions, and the conversation switches to shared friends and schools. It turns out, that Deven had a similar background to George and her friends. And after a few more drinks, the group are getting along like a house on fire.

  Tammy and I find ourselves, as usual, side-lined where George and her friends are concerned.

  “What did you think of that shit with George?” whispers Tammy, as we down our third cocktail. We’re being more or less ignored now Deven has arrived, so no-one is paying attention to our conversation.

  “I don’t know,” I say, “I didn’t realise she got a trust fund at twenty-one. I don’t think she’d leave though,” I add. “Not now we’re on Sing-Win.”

  I feel a flash of guilt, remembering what happened with Dez.

  I was ready to leave the band too. But only to protect Tammy.

  Tammy nods. “Sounds like we won’t see her for dust, if we get kicked off though,” she observes, eyeing George, who is tipping her head back in loud laughter at one of Deven’s jokes. “She’ll ditch us for a rich husband.”

  “Maybe that was just something she said to her friends,” I suggest hopefully.

  “Yeah, maybe,” says Tammy, gulping her drink. “Maybe not.”

  We’re silent for a moment, watching Deven and George.

  There’s definitely some serious flirting going on there.

  Tammy takes my arm, and drags me further along the bar, so we can’t be overheard. No-one seems to notice.

  “Do you think Deven really likes George?” asks Tammy, watching him. “I thought he liked you?”

  I notice Deven’s eyes flick to me, and then he’s back flirting with George.

  “I think he’s a snake,” hisses Tammy, looking at Deven from our safe position at the bar. “Like everything he does is for a reason.”

  Tammy takes a breath.

  “Like, what happened to his dog?” she asks accusingly.

  I think for a moment.

  “Max,” urges Tammy. “Remember? The little pooch you saved from under a bus? Deven acted like he loved that dog. But Max isn’t in the Sing-Win house, is he? I’ll bet it was all staged. To make Deven seem more likeable.”

  I consider this. I’d forgotten about Deven’s dog. It’s true. Max has vanished. We’ve not seen hide nor hair of him.

  “And I’ll bet he’s decided George will get him more publicity,” affirms Tammy.

  “In many ways, they are a good match,” I point out. “George is good at the media stuff too.”

  Tammy snorts.

  “Yeah. They deserve each other,” she says, knocking back her drink. “This is strong,” she adds, staring accusingly in the glass. “Don’t let me have too many of these Summer. I’ll probably tell Deven exactly what I think of him.”

  “He’d probably start filming you,” I say. We both laugh.

  “Seriously though,” says Tammy. “Something’s going on with that boy. Believe me Summer. I’ve got a nose for this kind of thing.”

  She eyes her empty drink.

  “You’re too nice to be suspicious,” she continues. “But take it from me. Deven is up to something.”

  “Do you think he could be involved in that note we found about vote rigging?” I ask.

  Tammy considers this.

  “I don’t know,” she says. “He seems too clean cut to be involved in outright cheating. But I’ll bet he has some underhand tactic for scoring more votes.”

  “Come on,” I say, “we should go back over.”

  “And stand around being ignored?”

  “It’s George’s birthday,” I insist. “Come on.”

  We’re making our way over when I see George’s face turn to thunder.

  What the…?

  I follow her gaze, and my heart drops.

  Oh no.

  Tammy is a little drunk, and it takes her a second longer to catch on. Then she swivels and stares.

  With her friends and Deven nearby, George is too ladylike to say anything. But Tammy has no such qualms.

  “What the fuck?” Tammy announces loudly. “What are those bitches doing here?”

  Chapter 20

  Time seems to stand still for a moment. And then Scandelous strut into the room, flicking their long blonde hair, and generally acting like they own the place.

  Behind them, is a full film crew.

  Oh no. This is exactly what George didn’t want for her birthday!

  George’s face has set to hard cold fury.

  None of us have spoken to Scandelous since they set us up.

  They nearly ruined our chances on the show, and needless to say, we’re all still angry with them. But so far we’ve managed to avoid the triplets pretty well. Considering we’re all under the same roof.

  George’s gaze turns accusingly to Deven.

  But Deven only glances at the approaching triplets. Then he touches his hand to George’s arm, and leans in close as though he’s saying something intimate.

  What the?

  I see George’s face flicker and then smile. And when I turn back to the Scandelous girls, I see Keisha’s face is rigid with shock. Like she’s been slapped.

  What the? Is something going on with Deven and Keisha?

  “Maybe you’re right,” I breathe to Tammy, and Scandelous approach the other end of the bar. “Perhaps Deven does have an agenda.”

  “What?” Tammy is decidedly tipsy now, and slow on the uptake.

  “Look at Keisha’s face,” I say, indicating with my head. “That’s heartbreak if ever I saw it. I’ll bet Deven has something going on with Keisha. Now he’s cosying up to George.”

  “You mean he’s set Keisha up?” breathes Tammy, “so she arrives with a film crew to see him flirting with George?”

  “It looks that way,” I say grimly. Though it’s hard to imagine anyone would be so heartless. “How else could Scandelous have known about the par
ty?”

  Tammy looks silently between the two groups, and then nods.

  “Man,” she says, after a long shocked second. “That is cold.”

  Looking at Scandelous, I can’t help but agree with her. Keisha looks really hurt.

  “I actually feel a bit sorry for her,” I admit, watching as she struggles to maintain a fake smile, staring into her drink. The pain on her face is so obvious. And what’s worse, is the film crew know it too.

  They’re mercilessly zooming in, soaking up every second.

  “I don’t,” says Tammy. “That, Summer, is what you call karma. Keisha set us up to look bad on film. Now she’s getting it back.”

  As if she knows we’re talking about her, Keisha’s heavily made-up eyes glance in our direction.

  Tammy raises her cocktail glass in mock salute, and winks. Keisha looks away, furious.

  “I can’t watch this,” I say. “I’m going outside for some fresh air.”

  “I’ll come join you in a second,” says Tammy. “Just give me another minute to enjoy my revenge.”

  Chapter 21

  I step outside into a little secluded smoking area. Luckily it’s empty – I guess there aren’t so many smokers in Chelsea. The first thing I do is pull out my phone.

  Adam. For some reason I want to talk to him more than anyone.

  This whole Sing-Win business is really starting to get to me. I love singing. But this whole set-up drama? People getting filmed through heart break? I don’t want this. Not at all. And judging from Keisha’s face, she really liked Deven.

  I take out my phone to see I already have five messages from Adam.

  I smile a little secret smile to myself as I read them.

  They’re all variations on the same. That he misses me, and hopes I’m having a good time.

  It occurs to me, I have a genuine excuse to get Adam to the party now. The Sing-Win film crew has shown up unannounced. I’m guessing Adam could step in and make them leave. Surely George would prefer it, if Adam came down and saved the day?

  I fiddle with my phone, smiling slightly.

  Summer, you are totally addicted to this man.

  I’m still debating whether this would be a good idea, when I hear a male voice at my shoulder.