Another deep exhale. “I know that change takes time. I know that though it can help, money doesn’t fix things. And I know that fame can be a chain around your ankles when you thought it would be a golden ticket to never-ending parties.”
I laughed softly at that. “Well, they do say that parties are depressing when they never come to an end.”
I could hear the smile in his voice when he asked, “Who are ‘they’?”
“Okay, they don’t say it. I say it, because it’s true.”
“That’s because you hate parties,” said Trev.
“I don’t hate parties,” I corrected him. “I hate parties with more than sixteen people, remember? It’s an exact science.”
“Ah yes,” Trev chuckled, the sound hitting me right in the pit of my stomach. “The sixteen-person rule, I remember now. You were always so specific about that number.”
“Any more and you can’t have an interesting conversation. It just becomes a bunch of people standing around and nodding about mundane things they can’t really hear anyway because the music’s too loud.”
“You know, I never understood why you hate loud music. You’re a musician. You’re supposed to love it.”
“Loud music doesn’t make it good music. Sometimes the best songs are the quiet ones.”
There was a short silence before Trev said, “Remember that song you used to sing where you whispered the last few lines? Always gave me chills.”
His words set a simmer low in my stomach. I knew exactly which song he was talking about. “Open Up,” I said, my voice soft.
“Yeah, that one. You still sing it?”
“Sometimes.”
“You should sing it on Wednesday at your gig,” he murmured quietly. “I’d love to hear it again.”
“I might.”
“I’ll live in hope,” he said, somewhat wistfully.
I didn’t speak, feeling tense, because there was something about our hushed conversation that felt too intimate.
“Okay, well, I suppose we should get some shut-eye, otherwise we’ll be up all night,” said Trev stiffly. So many of our conversations these days felt like a minefield. They veered from personal, to friendly, back to personal, to way too close and then to awkward.
“Goodnight,” I whispered and turned over, tugging the duvet tight around me.
“Night, Reya.”
When I blinked my eyes open the next morning it was to an almighty ruckus. Light filtered in through the curtains and I glanced across the room to see Trev was still asleep in Callum’s bed. He shifted in place, cracked one eye open and asked tiredly, “What the hell are they doing out there?”
“I think it’s the film crew. They must be setting up to record inside the apartment.”
“Great,” Trev grunted, grabbing a pillow and pulling it over his head to block out the noise. It sounded like someone was drilling, and I was fairly certain they didn’t have permission to do that since the apartment was only a rental. Worried, I sat up, ran my fingers through my knotted, sleep-mussed hair and went to investigate.
An argument erupted as I padded down the hallway and arrived in the kitchen where Neil was reprimanding one of the camera crew. “You can’t make any permanent alterations to the fixtures. Now we’re going to have to pay for those holes you just drilled in the wall.”
“I’m sorry,” said the cameraman, who was young and looking very pale right then. “I didn’t know.”
Glancing around the apartment, there was lots of activity going on, with other members of the crew milling about. I almost laughed when I saw Callum sleeping like a baby on the couch, earplugs in to block out the noise. I wondered how long his battle of wills with Leanne had gone on for last night.
Seeing there was nothing I could really do about the noise, I went to my room and found Leanne and Paul sitting on her bed talking.
“I’m sorry. I hope I’m not interrupting. I just need to grab a few things and then I’ll be out of your hair,” I said, deciding to go out for the day and do some exploring while I had the chance.
“You’re fine. Stay,” said Leanne. “I’m so sorry about last night. You didn’t even get to sleep in your bed.”
I waved away her apology. “Don’t worry about it. Trev volunteered his and he slept in Callum’s.”
“Ever the gentleman is our Trevor,” said Paul with a grin.
I didn’t indulge his teasing and focused my attention on Leanne. “Did you and Callum manage to patch things up?”
There must’ve been something in my gaze that made her feel vulnerable because she looked away. “Yeah, we, um, made friends.”
“For as long as that lasts,” Paul added ruefully, and Leanne nudged him in the side. “Ow, that hurt.”
“You were asking for it,” Leanne threw back then looked at me. “We must seem like such drama queens to you. It’s just that . . . well,” she paused, seeming embarrassed before she continued, “Cal tried to kiss me while we were out last night. I knocked him back and he invited those girls home because he was angry. I shouldn’t have given him a reaction, but what can you do?”
“I don’t think you’re a drama queen. I’ve been through it all before, remember?”
She nodded. “Right. Well, I just wanted to make sure you don’t hate me for locking you out of your own room.”
I waved her away. “Like I said, it’s fine. I’m just glad you two had a chance to sort things out.”
“Got any plans for the day?” Paul asked, gazing up at me from his spot on Leanne’s bed.
“I’m gonna try being a tourist on for size,” I answered. “Seems like there’s no sense in sticking around here.”
“Can I come? I definitely need an excuse to get out of this apartment,” asked Leanne.
“Sure. I’m just going to take a quick shower and then we can go.”
In the end Paul decided to tag along with us. Trev was in the kitchen eating a bowl of cereal as we were leaving. He seemed a bit disappointed that we didn’t invite him along, but I needed the distance. I was still digesting a lot of stuff.
The three of us did the whole tourist circuit around the city, and I got to know Leanne and Paul better away from the chaos of the impending filming. I liked them a lot, and by the end of the day our threesome had found a nice, comfortable rhythm.
Thankfully I got to spend the night in my own bed, and unlike the previous day, everyone was tucked up early. I guessed they all knew where their priorities lay. They had a full day of filming ahead and they needed to be fresh.
I was climbing the back stairs of an old, musty apartment building the following morning with Neil when I started to realise just how demanding this job was. Being a PA for these five wasn’t all ordering lattes and arranging meetings over the phone. It was stunt permits, non-liability waivers, clearing streets and ensuring medics were on site should any injuries occur. I’d been up since the crack of dawn helping Neil.