Sasha's Secret

by Cathy Cassidy

‘Ked needs to know. Perhaps his doctor can check you out and get this sorted. Let’s hope so!’

  ‘Please don’t,’ I whisper, but Camille just shakes her head, and I know that the time for hiding is past.

  I’ve done such a good job of ignoring my black-hole episodes, but no matter what I do they won’t go away. They just keep happening over and over. Everyone will notice in the end – this thing will unravel my school life, my friendships. It will unravel everything.

  I tilt my chin up, the way I always do, and try to ignore the prickle of tears in my eyes.

  Fitz and Ria are like creatures from another planet – a cooler, weirder, more colourful planet – and they have transformed the music room into an Aladdin’s cave of possibility. Peeping round the door, I see rails of clothes in bright colours and rich fabrics, tall mirrors propped against the walls, trestle tables laden with more make-up than I’ve ever seen. And, trust me, I have seen a lot.

  Jake grins and waves as he helps to set up the projector, and I can’t help smiling as I watch him check the sound, making sure Fitz and Ria are happy. This is one bit of the schedule I’ve been looking forward to – it’s about helping us find a look for the band, and after meeting Fitz and Ria at Starshine, I can’t wait to see what they’ve come up with.

  ‘You’re amazing,’ Ria tells us, once we’re all inside and sprawled across the squashy sofas that face the stage. ‘You’re young, you look great, you have personality and individuality. What you need now is something to pull you together. Think of the iconic bands and solo artists of the past. They all had a strong look, an image, that helped them stand out from the crowd. Since meeting the band at Starshine we’ve been in constant touch with some of you, exchanging ideas and concepts. We’re really excited about the new image and the promo video – let’s show you what we have in mind!’

  Jake flicks a switch and images appear on the white wall behind the stage while a rough cut of our new song, ‘Watch Me Disappear’, plays softly in the background. It’s mesmerizing. A carousel of perfectly made-up faces plays before us, dramatic eyes lined in black, false lashes like spiders, dark lips, hair gelled and backcombed like something from a horror film. The clothes are raggedy layers of different fabrics and textures, all in black. The images morph gradually into vintage shots of sixties models, wide-eyed and innocent with pixie crops or long tumbling hair, in short dresses and skinny jeans, baggy shirts and waistcoats.

  ‘That’s Louisa Winter!’ Lexie says, as a couple of images of the artist flash up on screen – photos from her modelling days long ago.

  She looks beautiful, luminous, full of life.

  ‘We looked for inspiration from eighties and nineties emo-goth style, because your songs are very emotional and intense,’ Fitz says, as the series of slides ends and then begins again. ‘Then we added in some sixties youth and simplicity – that’s also a strong theme in your music. We want to mix the two – big eyes, wild hair, dark clothes, with a sixties vibe of wide-eyed innocence.’

  ‘Have you met Marley Hayes?’ Bex quips, and everyone laughs. ‘“Innocent” is not the word that springs to mind!’

  ‘Looks can be deceptive,’ Marley argues.

  Dylan chucks a cushion at him, and our focus turns back to the screen.

  ‘Last night, Ked emailed a SoundCloud link for your new songs,’ Fitz goes on. ‘We loved them – the imagery, the message, it’s all so brilliantly you. We’ve chatted to the film crew about their video, and we had the idea of showing you all in monochrome for the live performance, then introducing colour for the outside shots. Jake has put together a slide show of your ideas too, and, as you’ll see, they fit beautifully with what we had in mind. I’d like to invite Bex and Lexie up to explain.’

  Bex and Lexie come forward, but Jake stays safely behind the projector as the new slides begin to play. We’re looking at a chaos of images that could have been taken at the Hindu festival of Holi, the one where everyone throws coloured powder at each other. The images are joyful, powerful, moving – I can see just how well this idea could work with our new songs.

  Bex glances up at the slide show. ‘We had a lot of ideas,’ she says. ‘From painting each other with brushes and poster paint to hiding our faces – our new songs are very visual, and it makes sense to use their imagery in the video. We loved the idea of the film cutting between shots of us performing to scenes of us in the woods at Fox Hollow Hall with paint and brushes, messing around. The contrast of monochrome and colour would be awesome!’

  ‘We’re putting together a sort of script – a film sequence, I suppose,’ Lexie says. ‘The face-paint idea would start off gently, then get wilder – eventually we’d be throwing around coloured powder, getting it in our hair and all over our clothes …’

  ‘Which would work really well with our plan for neutral-coloured clothes,’ Fitz says, grinning.

  ‘Exactly,’ Bex agrees. ‘Jake had the idea of projecting coloured lights on to the band as they play too, starting in monochrome and working up to a kaleidoscope of colour as the song builds. We’ll add the colour gradually, cutting between shots of us performing and shots playing with paint, and we want to use Sasha as the focus of all this.’

  She looks at me for approval, and I wish I’d listened more last night and hadn’t gone to bed early, because I don’t like where this is going, not at all.

  ‘You’re the lead singer, obviously,’ she says to me. ‘The face of the band …’

  Panic flutters inside my chest. I don’t want to be the face of the band. I don’t even want to be the lead singer, not if I’m honest with myself – and admitting that, even to myself, is terrifying.

  Lexie takes over again. ‘We thought one of the first cutaway shots could show Sasha having her make-up done … a perfectly made-up face,’ she explains. ‘Later, she’ll have handprints and brushmarks of bright colours covering that up, then showers of coloured powder to camouflage it all – lots of close-ups. And the end shot will be Sasha wiping away all the make-up and paint to reveal her true face – but when she looks at the camera for her final close-up, we’ll see a face with eyes rimmed with black, like a ghost, her face icy-pale, her lips white – maybe twigs and spiders and remnants of the coloured powder in her tangled hair …’

  A twist of nausea rises inside me, and I wish I could fall into a black hole right now.

  ‘Wow,’ Ria is saying. ‘Powerful – I can totally imagine!’

  ‘It’s like she’s revealing the fear and the darkness inside,’ Bex concludes. ‘Which is sort of what the song is about. Well, those were our ideas, anyway!’

  I wrap my arms round myself to try to hold myself together, but I can feel I’m coming apart even so. I can feel myself melting, crumbling, breaking up.

  Ked is talking now, telling us he knew we had potential but he didn’t know just how much talent and creativity we had. ‘OK Film are coming over tonight to finalize ideas – they’ll love this, I know. We’ve got this afternoon and all day tomorrow to get the songs recorded, leaving Thursday for styling and filming. With any luck, we can get the single released mid-November, with a big splash in the media to support it. If we’re lucky, Lola Rockett will get behind it too, and I don’t have to tell you what that could mean. Good work, everyone! I’ll leave you with Ria and Fitz for a make-up and styling dress rehearsal.’

  Jake shuts down the slide show and the lights come up. I push my fears away, fix on the brightest smile I can muster, stand up and walk towards the make-up table.

  ‘Wow,’ I breathe. ‘All these bottles and jars and paints and potions … I feel like the sorcerer’s apprentice!’

  ‘You’re right,’ Ria says with a smile. ‘There’s magic in these bottles and jars! Shall we do you first? I never did get round to that makeover at Starshine, did I?’

  I’m sitting in the fancy swivel chair, while Ria chats easily as she swipes primer, foundation and shader on to my face. She outlines my eyes with smudgy kohl and snips an extravagant false eyelash into halves
to attach to the outer edges of my eyes. Cobalt blue and turquoise and jade, glittery white … Ria picks colours I’d never dare try in real life. She paints my lips the palest pink, dusts sparkles along my cheekbones and twirls the chair round to face the mirror.

  I don’t recognize the girl looking back at me. Her long blonde hair has been brushed into long curtains, her eyes are huge and her skin is pale and flawless. She looks young and innocent yet somehow fierce and proud and strong. She’s like some kind of alien princess … but she’s me.

  ‘See? Magic!’ Ria says.

  ‘I love it!’ I whisper. ‘I mean, I really, really love it. Thank you! How did you get into this career? Did you have to go to college?’

  Ria grins. ‘There are plenty of courses,’ she tells me. ‘Beauty therapy, make-up, special effects … but, actually, I did a fashion degree – it’s where I met Fitz. I found I was more interested in styling and doing the make-up for shoots and shows – I like designing faces more than I like designing clothes! No formal training as such, just a real passion for what I do.’

  A barrage of flashes go off in my face. ‘Look at the camera,’ Matt is saying. ‘Tilt your head back … now to one side … try to look happy …’

  More flashes. Matt barks out his demands and I play along, pretending it’s somehow fun. I can’t help wondering why I ever thought Matt was cute. He’s bossy and sarcastic, his eyes cold, lips scornful. I must have been mad to think I was falling for him.

  I sneak a glance at Jake, at the back of the room playing with the light filters, projecting colours above our heads on to the screen behind the stage. I like the way he chews his lip when he’s concentrating, the way his hair sticks up in several directions like it hasn’t seen a comb in days, even though I’m pretty sure he gels it carefully every morning. I like the way his blue eyes scan the room for me every few minutes, the way he grins at me when he thinks nobody’s watching.

  I like Jake.

  ‘Ready to pick some clothes?’ Fitz asks, steering me towards the rails of black and grey garments. ‘Choose some opaque tights and boots, a scarf for your hair – and try on these dresses so we can see which looks best.’

  I scoop up a selection of clothes and take them to the nearest loo to change, shimmying into dove-grey tights, flat black op-art boots and a black minidress with strange bell-like sleeves. I put the scarf in my hair and laugh because I look so ridiculous.

  ‘Too heavy, too blocky,’ Fitz decides, as I step out to show him. ‘And the scarf isn’t working, is it?’

  The second dress is a sleeveless grey shift with a faint paisley print. It looks much better, but Fitz still isn’t sure. Try the last one,’ he tells me. ‘We have to get this right!’

  The last outfit is a loose grey slash-neck jumper worn with a tiny black suedette skirt, accessorized with a hoop-link belt and a floppy hat.

  ‘That is the one,’ Fitz announces. ‘I knew it!’

  And when I go back into the music room, people turn their heads to look. The girls tell me I look amazing and even Marley seems pleased. I begin to wonder if I can do this, if fronting a band is just a matter of finding a good enough disguise and being brave?

  Then I remember my blackout moments, and I know I’m kidding myself. I’m wasting everybody’s time.

  I take a deep breath in and act my part a little bit harder, even so.

  My friends are getting ready. Lexie and Romy have reprised their glittery look from Sunday, and Marley is stalking around with kohl-rimmed eyes, Chelsea boots, skinny jeans and a black-and-grey tie-dye T-shirt. Ria is transforming Bex, who can’t quite decide whether to be against all make-up on feminist grounds, or to cut loose and get Ria to use every colour on offer. ‘Make me look fierce,’ she decides at last. ‘That’d be pretty empowering, right?’

  ‘Can you help us for a bit, Sasha?’ Ria asks, flustered. ‘Before we run out of time?’

  I don’t have to be asked twice. I take a moment to mix and match a base colour for Happi, then highlight with glitter and shade her eyes with gold and green. With her hair twisted up into two tiny buns sprinkled with stars, Happi looks amazing.

  ‘Stunning, Sasha,’ Ria says. ‘Remember, if things don’t work out with the Lost & Found, just give me a call – you can intern for me and Fitz any time!’

  ‘I will,’ I say, beaming with pride as Fitz whisks Happi away to be dressed and Dylan flops down in the chair for his turn. ‘I’d love that!’

  I sponge on some base to hide Dylan’s spots and some colour to highlight his cheekbones, and find myself wishing I really could do this for a living. It’d be so cool – getting a bride ready for her big day, or an actor ready to be filmed, or a model ready for her photo shoot. Maybe I do have a talent?

  I see Jake in the background, carrying boxes, setting up the ironing board, helping to iron a pile of sixties shirts and T-shirts to hang on one of the rails.

  ‘Poor Jake, stuck with the ironing,’ Dylan says, grabbing a trilby hat and a feather boa as Fitz marches past with an armful of accessories. ‘He misses out on all the fun stuff!’

  But I don’t think Jake is missing out. He has the buzz of being part of the Lost & Found without the stress, and that’s what I’d like too. ‘Stop wriggling,’ I tell Dylan, then I dust him with powder and set him loose for Fitz to adorn.

  What Ria and Fitz do is a kind of alchemy – with a few paints, powders and vintage finds they have transformed us all, given us an identity we didn’t have before. We look amazing – we look like a band, and I can visualize how much more amazing we’ll be when we’re let loose with the paints and coloured powder for the video.

  And now Ria and Fitz are packing up to leave, instructing us to hang up our costumes ready for Thursday once Matt’s through with us. It’s photo-shoot time.

  Instead of a formal photocall, Matt wants us to clown around beside the clothes rails with guitars and hats and shawls. He fires off a few shots, the flash on repeat, then ushers us through to the kitchen where Mandy and Jon are setting out a lunch of pizza slices and chunky chips.

  Matt snaps us sitting on, at and in front of the table, eating pizza, and then messing about with ladles, oven gloves and a fish slice beside the scarlet Aga. Finally, he clumps us together against the blue and yellow Moroccan-tiled wall, eating chips and laughing as he fires the flash over and over again.

  It’s exciting and fun and I’m laughing along with the others … and then I’m not.

  Black hole, a blur of faces, black hole again.

  ‘… are you even listening, Sasha?’ Matt’s angry voice cuts through the confusion in my head. ‘Is it too much to ask you to smile? Look at the camera? Or are you really as bored as you look?’

  ‘I … what?’ I say.

  Matt lowers the camera, clearly annoyed.

  ‘It’s like photographing a plank of wood!’ he grumbles. ‘What is it with you? D’you think you’re too good for the rest of the band? You’re not a superstar yet, you know!’

  I frown, trying to untangle the accusations. ‘I don’t … That’s not what I think!’

  ‘Leave it,’ Romy says, stepping up beside me. ‘Seriously, Matt. Shouting isn’t going to help!’

  ‘Matt, mate, back off,’ Marley adds. ‘You’re out of order!’

  Jake steps up to my other side. ‘Ignore him,’ he says to me quietly. ‘He’s a loser … a jerk!’

  ‘Can’t any of you see?’ Matt growls. ‘She’s the weak link here … she doesn’t care about the band. Don’t any of you get it?’

  ‘Don’t you get it, Matt?’ Marley repeats coldly. ‘Don’t you see? Sasha’s one of us.’

  189 likes

  SashaSometimes Want to see my new look?

  #1960sVibe #MakeoverMadness #BandLife #Lost&Found

  Lara_M Yes!

  ZeeC YES!!!

  Kezsez07 Please!

  JBSings Don’t keep us guessing!

  PetraB Yes

  Yorkie_Joe Sure do!

  littlejen Is there a release date
for the EP yet?

  Lil_Chels You’re my hero, Sasha!

  22

  Try Again

  My friends rally round, telling me to ignore Matt, that he’s jealous because I’ve dropped him for Jake. There may be a grain of truth in this, but deep down I know that Matt has seen what the others haven’t yet – that I don’t belong in the band.

  The knowledge sticks in my throat, sharp and dangerous like a shard of glass.

  ‘Marley’s having a word,’ Jake says, and, sure enough, I can hear the raised voices from where we’re sitting, sprawled across the squashy sofas in the living room. We’re all still in full costume and make-up, which is surreal. Jake’s the only one who looks normal, and I’m holding his hand tightly.

  ‘I should have thumped him,’ Bex tells me. ‘Who does he think he is, anyway?’

  ‘A jumped-up posh boy with a ruthless streak a mile wide?’ Jake suggests.

  ‘Maybe he just gets really easily stressed?’ Lexie is saying. ‘Still, he had no right to have a go at you like that, Sash. Don’t let it get to you!’

  ‘You try to see the best in everyone, Lexie,’ Happi comments. ‘But maybe it’s like Jake says, and Matt’s just not very nice? And he is totally jealous because Sash turned him down!’

  ‘I don’t think I like him much,’ Sami agrees.

  ‘Don’t think any of us do,’ Lee chips in.

  I bite my lip. ‘I honestly don’t think I’m better than anyone else.’

  ‘We know that,’ Bex says. ‘Obviously!’

  ‘I know I haven’t been at my best this week. I haven’t been sleeping, and sometimes when I’m tired I just blank out a bit …’

  Jake raises an eyebrow, but I can’t meet his eye. He doesn’t get it. How do you tell your friends you’re blanking out half a dozen times a day, and that it’s not just a quiet, daydreamy moment but a total black-hole experience, when you lose yourself and everything else as well? How do you tell your friends you can’t be what they need you to be, that you’re going to let them down big style, sooner rather than later?