by KE Payne
I felt as though my chest might burst with pride. Our first number one. Goal achieved. Even “Taken,” our first successful single and the one which put us out there, only managed to achieve number three.
“And Alex is really happy?” The words were out before I’d even thought about it. “What did she say?”
Robyn’s laughter slowed as she looked at me.
“Alex is really happy, yes,” she said. She leant her head to one side. “Is that important to you?”
“It’s important that everyone’s happy.” My voice sounded too unnatural for my liking. “We should celebrate.”
“Already sorted.” Robyn rested back on the sofa. “Trio Records are presenting us with a platinum disc at some swanky club tomorrow night.”
My heart crashed. “Not another party?” I didn’t think I could cope so soon after the pool party.
“This, according to Ed, is more of a…presentation,” Robyn said. “An announcement of how many copies we sold, and some grand presentation. The press will be there and bigwigs from Trio Records.” She shrugged. “It means, of course, that we’ll all have to be on our best behaviour.” A slow grin escaped from Robyn’s lips.
“Yeah, right.”
Robyn looked at me. “We did it, Tally.” She reached over and fist-bumped me. “We really did it.”
Chapter Twenty-two
I didn’t like the thought of a presentation. Probably because I hated the fuss of having to get dressed up—even though I can’t remember the last time I wore a dress. But when an official party has been arranged by your record company in a swish part of London, and when they want to reward us for all our hard work and ply us with food and drinks, and I don’t have to make too much of an effort, or make any speeches or anything else like that, then I’m in there.
Trio Records had hired a club in the West End called Hares. I’d never been before, and I did kind of wonder why there would be a club named after a wild animal in the centre of London, but when I got there, it was clear it was run by some millionaire called Michael Hares. That made more sense then.
The MD of Trio Records must have really been pleased with us because, unlike at the pool party, this time she had paid for us all to have two private cars take us into the West End—me and Brooke in one, Robyn and Alex in another. I was glad, because it meant I didn’t have to drive through London in a limo with Alex in total silence. As usual, I hadn’t left myself enough time to get ready, but at least I hadn’t had to stress over what to wear, because I’d already chosen my outfit. After fussing over a pile of clothes, hastily tipped out from the wardrobe that afternoon and spread across my bed, in the end I’d just gone for the easy option and chose black skinny jeans and a black top that clung to me in all the right places. Black was good, I figured. Black covered a whole multitude of things.
Brooke, of course, had turned up in a dress. I thought she looked lovely. Elegant. I knew I was never going to be elegant, but I hoped my black combination still looked good enough to at least not make me look a total mess.
As we exited our car, the paparazzi swarmed around us like bees. Flashlights blinded us, words which I could barely hear were shouted out to us: “Tally! Over here!” “Brooke, give us a smile.” We obliged. Standing arm in arm, we allowed the paps their sixty seconds of photographs, then waved, smiled, turned, and disappeared into the blackness of the club. That’s when I could finally relax. As the heat and the noise of the club sucked us in, I followed Brooke deeper inside, sidestepping people I’d never seen before, and headed straight for the bar.
“So if the drinks are free,” Brooke said, effortlessly getting the eye of the guy serving behind the bar, “I estimate we could be wasted within the hour.”
“Stay classy, Brooke.” I shoulder-bumped her, making her laugh.
While Brooke ordered our drinks, I leant back against the bar and gazed round. I was looking for Alex. I couldn’t help myself.
“Any idea what time Robyn said she and Alex would be here?” I kept my voice as normal as possible.
Brooke looked at her watch. “Their car was collecting her at nine. Then on to Alex’s.” She looked at her watch again, as if to confirm to herself. “They should be here soon.”
Almost the second she’d said it, I spotted Robyn. She was standing across the other side of the dance floor, her arms wrapped around Nate. She looked a little drunk already, in the way that tipsy people do: arms slightly loose, laughing louder than was necessary.
So where was Alex? I took my drink from Brooke, had a sip, then wandered across the floor to Robyn, pulling Brooke with me. When she spotted us, Robyn let out a whoop and walked unsteadily over to meet us. Definitely drunk already.
“You’re here!” She embraced us both, spilling some of the drink that was still in her hand onto the floor behind me. I just hoped she hadn’t spilled any of it down my back, and that I wouldn’t spend the rest of the night stinking of whatever revolting cocktail it was she was drinking.
“I thought you wouldn’t be here yet,” I said, raising my voice to be heard over the music, which had been cranked up a notch. “I thought your car was at nine.”
“Nate and I caught a cab instead.” Robyn’s voice was already hoarse and I guessed by the state of her she’d been in the club a while.
“What about Alex?” I asked.
Robyn shrugged loosely. “Dunno.”
“You were supposed to be getting a car together,” I offered helpfully.
“Oh. Yeah.” She pulled a face. “Guess she’s coming alone then.”
I looked around again, wanting to see Alex more than ever now. Other people had arrived, but I still hardly recognized anyone.
The music pumped out, and as the number of people in the room swelled, so did the heat. Robyn had lost interest in my conversation about Alex and had returned to Nate, leaving me and Brooke standing like a pair of wallflowers. The air around us was thick with music and body heat, and just like at the pool, I knew I ought to mingle. Instead, I clung to the wall, drink in hand, and willed Alex to arrive, dreading the thought that she might not bother to turn up.
The alcohol tasted good on my tongue and I took another large gulp, deciding that if tonight was to be the night I would talk to her, I might need some help. I knew I needed to explain myself to her. Make her understand how messed up I’d felt over Nicole, and that I didn’t want the same to happen to me and her. Tonight was going to be the night I’d make her understand that we were better off as friends, and then all the worries and angst of the past few weeks would be forgotten.
Suddenly, the music died, and the brief silence was welcome. In those few seconds of silence, I heard a murmuring of voices. I saw heads turn, sensed people nudging one another. My eyes followed the direction that the heads were turned in, and that’s when I saw her. Alex. She was stopped just inside the doorway, looking adorably lost, obviously frantically scanning the floor for a face she could recognize. I should have waved at her, beckoned her over, but I was too mesmerized to even lift my hand.
She looked stunning. Like a movie star, a pop star, and a model, all rolled into one. She was dressed even more casually than I was, in faded blue jeans and a tight-fitting long-sleeved tee, but it just worked. Like everything about Alex just worked. Her hair was perfect: shiny and glossy, and teased over her eyes just so. Her make-up, too, was subtle and understated.
Finally, she spotted me and Brooke and, just as the music started again, walked across the floor to us, her head bowed, a shy smile plastered across her face as she passed a multitude of strangers all looking at her. She was obviously uncomfortable at her entrance, desperately uneasy at everyone watching her every step across the floor, and my heart ached for her.
“Bloody Robyn.” Alex laughed when she reached us, but I could tell her laugh masked her deep discomfort. “Rang me at eight forty-five and said she was here already, but that my car was on its way.”
“Sounds like typical Robyn.” Brooke was the first to speak.
My eyes
couldn’t leave Alex. She caught my gaze, and in those few seconds that we looked at each other, I think we each could see the other’s pain. I was the first to look away, my attention drawn from her by Brooke saying something droll to us both about Ed. Alex and I laughed, but it was the sort of laugh that was forced, and sounded unnatural. I don’t think Brooke noticed, though.
Someone in a tuxedo carrying a tray of drinks brushed past us, then stopped, did a small reverse, and stood in front of Alex. He said something to her, his words muffled against the loud music, but I took it to be something about a drink, because he handed her a flute of champagne, then carried on his way again. Alex stood in front of me, glass in hand, then took a small sip from it.
“I guess if I ask for an OJ I’ll get told I’m boring, right?” she said to me, cradling her glass in her hand.
“You can have what you want,” I said. “You want me to…?” I gesticulated towards the bar, but Alex shook her head.
“I’m good,” she said.
Brooke had somehow dissolved into the shifting masses, in that way that people eventually do when you’re all crammed in together, and now Alex and I were alone. I knew a silence would settle between us, and I wasn’t wrong. There were so many things I wanted to say to her, like how I wished we could go back to how we’d been, but the words just wouldn’t come. Instead, the music continued to pound around us while we stood next to one another, each of us with glass in hand, while people we neither knew nor wanted to know came and went.
It was Alex who broke the silence first. Completely out of the blue she told me I looked beautiful, and I could tell by the tone of her voice she really meant it.
“Thank you.” That sounded so insipid. “You look very nice too.” Insipid and so lame. I looked down at myself and made some comment about not being very inventive wearing black. Alex replied with a comment I didn’t catch.
“I’m sorry?” I cupped my ear against the music and leant closer to her.
“I said black suits you.” Alex was so close we were practically touching. “And I love what you’ve done with your eyes.” Her eyes flicked over mine, then away, and the awkwardness that stood between us was excruciating.
I think I muttered something about a new eyeliner I’d bought and just died inside at my inability to string two words together to her. The only thing that would break the awkwardness, I knew, was having a drink, so I drained the last of mine and grabbed myself another full glass from a tray on the bar.
Fortunately, intervention arrived when the music stopped and suddenly I could hear the intro to “After the Rain” belting out around the club. I caught Alex’s eye and grinned. We both started nodding our heads in time to our guitar riffs, and then as if from nowhere, my arm was grabbed from behind and I was hauled onto the dance floor. I slammed my drink down on the bar and allowed myself to be dragged along by whoever it was.
It was, unsurprisingly, Robyn. And by the way she was laughing so hard as she pulled me onto the floor, I knew she must have had at least two more drinks since I’d last seen her ten minutes before.
Our music sounded great as it echoed round the club, and even though I didn’t much like being the centre of attention in situations like this, the alcohol in my empty stomach had emboldened me sufficiently to actually stay on the dance floor and not flee back to the sanctuary of the darkness where I’d just been.
A huge cheer went up as our vocals kicked in, and the next thing I knew, Alex and Brooke were on the dance floor with us, and I soon forgot that people were watching us. Now I didn’t care. Even though I was disorientated by the champagne, I felt bolstered by the throbbing swell of bodies on the dance floor and became increasingly less self-conscious the longer the song went on.
I was squashed in amongst a throng of sweaty bodies, all red faces and limbs flailing, all dancing to our music. Weird. But good weird. Robyn grabbed my hands and kept raising our arms above our heads as we danced, occasionally spinning me round until I had to tell her to stop. Alex and Brooke were doing something similar, laughing and trying to push the other off balance while they did it. I kept catching Alex’s eye as we passed one another. She looked happy, reaching out to me and grabbing first my hand, then Robyn’s, then releasing them again. I was pleased she was so happy. Relieved, even. I loosened up even more then and allowed myself to get lost in the moment, grateful that the music had allowed me and Alex to be more relaxed around one another than we had been just before.
As the music still pumped out, we joined up and started dancing as a foursome. Brooke with her arms in the air, Robyn with her arms loosely around my neck, her head thrown back, still laughing. Still drunk. We were wedged in amongst other people, some of whom grabbed our arms as we danced, others who linked their arms round our waists and danced with us for a few seconds before moving on to someone else.
Then, suddenly, the bodies on the floor parted and Alex and I were dancing alone, our arms draped around each other’s necks. She smelled so good. The heat of her skin set off whatever scent she’d put on, and before I knew what I was doing, I’d pulled her closer and buried my head against her. I pressed myself hard up against her, her body warm and soft against mine, her hair gentle against my skin. It felt just like it had at the pool that day, so comfortable, so right. Like we slotted together perfectly. A matching pair. We danced on, people stumbling against us, not seeing us, occasionally making us loosen our grip on one another, only for us to tighten our hold.
Then, as if by some quirk of fate, “After the Rain” stopped before it was supposed to and was replaced by a slow song which wasn’t one of ours. I didn’t want to stop dancing with Alex. The slowness of the music and the feel of her melted into my arms were making me dizzy, and I wanted to stay with her like this for the rest of the night. But I knew I couldn’t. It was unfair of me to do this to Alex, knowing what we both knew.
“I can’t…” I reluctantly wrenched myself from her. “I need to go.”
*
Getting to the toilets was like navigating an assault course. Over the dance floor, past the bar, through a door, and down some steps, then turn left.
I knew I’d left Alex standing in the middle of the dance floor, and I knew what expression she had on her face. I’d stumbled from her, still feeling her body against mine, the memory of it making my skin tingle, like electric currents running through me. I’d barged my way past the others on the floor, knowing if I hadn’t left Alex right then, I don’t know what I might have done.
I took the steps down to the toilet, the music from upstairs gradually leaving my ears, and pushed my way into the first empty stall I could find, then locked the door and leant back against it. I heard toilets flushing, people coming and going, but all I could think of was Alex and how it had just felt to be with her. All the silences and bad feeling that we’d had since we’d kissed at the pool had been forgotten in those last few minutes when we’d danced together. We’d connected again, and any thoughts I might have had that my feelings for her could possibly go away now counted for nothing. They were never going to go away.
I unlocked the door and walked to the sink. There was only one person in the toilets now, a woman applying lipstick in the mirror. As I washed my hands, I tried not to look as her face twisted in the mirror until she was apparently satisfied with her work. With a quick nod of her head as she passed me, with not a flicker of recognition, she left the toilets. Finally I was alone.
I rested my hands on the sink and studied my reflection. The heat from the club had given my forehead a shine, while my dancing with Alex had made my cheeks flushed. I stared at myself. I didn’t look sweaty and terrible, though. Instead, the flush on my cheeks made me look…I don’t know. Alive.
Nicole had never made me feel like this. Sure, Nicole had made me laugh. But this was something completely new. This should feel wrong, because it felt wrong with Nicole. Except it didn’t. This felt…
The door opened. I leant my head closer to the mirror, narrowed my eyes, and s
wept the hair from my eyes. The door closed. Soft footsteps.
“Tal. We really need to talk.”
Chapter Twenty-three
Alex’s face was as flushed as mine. I watched her in the mirror as she walked behind me, checking to make sure each stall was empty as she did so, then came to stand at my left side. She leant a hip against the sink, and I waited for her to speak again.
My heart was thumping so hard, I was sure she’d be able to see it beating in my neck.
“We should talk,” she said again.
I looked at her reflection in the mirror.
“I tried to talk to you the other day,” I said. “In the studio? You weren’t interested.”
“I was upset,” Alex said. “Wouldn’t you have been?”
“I’m sorry.” I lowered my head and stared down into the sink.
“For what? Everything?”
I nodded, and as I did so, my hair fell across my face so that Alex couldn’t see the expression on it.
“I thought we…you know…” Alex said. I lifted my head just in time to see her glance towards the door. “I thought we might have something. You and me.”
“I think—” I started, then stopped as the door opened and a girl, about our age, walked in. I was sure she did a double-take when she saw me and Alex, and that was enough for me to want to leave. Next thing I knew, she’d have her phone out and her selfies with us would be plastered all over Instagram. I wasn’t in the mood.
I signalled for Alex to follow me and left the toilets, no doubt leaving the girl to text her BFFs to tell them OMG who she’d just seen in the Hares toilets. I navigated my way through the ground floor corridors of the club, testing doors until one finally opened. It was the fire exit, leading out onto a small corrugated iron balcony, with steps down to a small courtyard below. I held the door open for Alex, then joined her on the balcony, pushing the door closed behind us.
“Talk to me, Tal.” Alex spoke first. “Tell me everything you’re thinking.”
