Page 25 of I Knew You Were Trouble

I’m awake early, watching out of my window with a view across the bustling Korean capital, sipping instant coffee that came out of a sachet, the whirr of the traffic below infiltrating my room. In contrast to days earlier in Tokyo, we’ve been relegated to a cheaper hotel along with the back-up dancers and other miscellaneous crew. It’s decent, but the band is not here. They’re staying at the Four Seasons.

For a whole week now I’ve been in Ziggy’s bad books. The only footage I’ve obtained is the boys performing at their concerts in Tokyo. It’s hardly going to set Vaughn Harrera’s world alight: lacklustre footage was the reason they let the last guy go. I’ve thought about contacting him but Meredith keeps advising me to have patience.

I am not a patient person. I like to get things done. There is only one reason I’ve found myself in this position: his name is Aidan McArthur. He has turned the entire band, including their fiery-tempered manager, against me.

And for the life of me, I still can’t work out why.

Fine, so his looks could stop traffic.

I’m thinking about him too much.

But definitely not in a good way.

He’s determined, rude and opinionated.

He’s acting like he’s the one in charge, not Ziggy, not even Vaughn Herrera, and I don’t know how he does it.

I hate him.

Hate. Him.

I don’t care how popular he is. If this continues, he is going to single-handedly drop an anvil on my entire career.

I’ve done my homework. It feels like I’ve read every comment on every fan site. I’ve absorbed Reddit threads. I’ve swotted up on all their backgrounds. I’ve streamed their entire back catalogue, watched every pop video, several times over, feeling like I’m leering over every hip thrust or naked torso.

I now know everything there is to know about Rebel Heart.

All of which means nothing, but I refuse to be caught out.

Aidan McArthur will not catch me on the back foot again.

I’m listening to “Lovesick” for about the sixteenth time when my phone rings. My eyes widen when I see Ziggy’s name on the screen and I swipe up my handset from my unmade bed.

‘Bodhi’s bringing Ravi over to you,’ he says without greeting. ‘I need him back here by ten. No delays.’

I blink. ‘You’re sending Ravi overhere?Now?’

‘I am. You said you wanted someone to interview.’

‘Yes, but, Ziggy, you need to give me more than a few minutes’ notice. I’m not dressed, I haven’t even showered. We haven’t set up.’

‘Well, I guess you’d better get a move on then, because he’s gonna be there in ten minutes.’

He hangs up without a goodbye. I hate this increasingly short leash that Ziggy is keeping me on.

I growl, rub my eyes in frustration, throw on my clothes from the day before, go out into the corridor and rap hard on Duncan’s door.

‘Bodhi’s driving Ravi over for his first interview.’

Duncan squints. Behind him, his room is pitch black. ‘Like, now? What time is it?’

‘Just gone seven. I don’t even know where we’re supposed to set up.’

‘Use Meredith’s room. She’s got a corner with windows. Light’s decent in there. It’s down there, the last one on the left.’

‘Right. I’ll go wake her up.’

Duncan yawns. ‘I’ll get the kit.’

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