After a drink at the bar, I manage to persuade Duncan to go over and talk to Haven. I work the room, shaking hands and making conversation, my high-heeled shoes pinching my toes. I keep one eye on Aidan. He’s extricated himself from the Haven girls and is similarly working the room. Except everyone wants a piece of the band members, so I’m left with the guests who are only here for the free booze.

‘Hello, young lady,’ a man in a brown suit jacket says as he thrusts out his hand in my direction. His Australian accent is coarse and grating, the skin on his hands leathery. I can smell the alcohol on his breath. He’s short on hair, his ruddy cheeks peppered with acne scars. ‘What you here for, love?’

‘I,uh, I’m making a documentary about Rebel Heart.’

He frowns at me. ‘Hang on… I know you. Yeah. You’re ol’ Pat’s daughter, ain’t ya?’

My skin crawls. He’s got yellow teeth. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘Yeah, thought you looked familiar! Pat Hart is your old man, ain’t that right?’

I swallow, my eyes flitting around the room to see if I can spot Duncan, or even Meredith. At the mention of my father, my pulse has started to race. ‘He—’ I begin. ‘Yes,’ I concede. ‘Yes, he is.’

Ordinarily, I would end the conversation there. I don’t like talking about my father, the trauma of him abandoning me and my mother put to bed a long time ago. Or, rather, I have buried those feelings, deep inside me. And I’ll admit I’ve never quite dealt with them. I avoid them at all costs.

The man is still talking. He seems to have no perception of personal space because he’s backed me right into the corner beside the bookcase. I’ve found myself trapped in one corner of the room. The camera in my butterfly broach will be picking up everything.

‘…Yeah, I did a stint in LA once when I was younger. Went to film school with your old man. I knew right there he had a boatload of talent. Made me realise I was better off sticking to the writing, ya know?’

For every inch I move back, he shifts forward, so that I can feel his breath against my face. My hands have started to shake. I can’t find the words to interrupt him.

‘…We had a lotta fun though… chased the starlets all around Hollywood, if you know what I mean, eh? We’d try and get into all these exclusive parties up in the Hills. Your dad was a right flirt. Had this roguish charm about him, a cracking smile. He had them falling at his feet…’

I swallow hard, sweat breaking out on my upper lip. A moment later, I hear a deep voice from my left. ‘Excuse me,’ it says, in an authoritative tone. ‘I need to borrow Lexi for a minute.’

I glance up to find Aidan is looking down at me. With his right hand, he reaches for my left. He guides me forward, his other hand going to the journalist’s shoulder, making a point of moving him further out of the way.

‘Sorry, mate,’ the man mutters, but I barely hear him. I feel Aidan’s arm curl protectively around me, his hand coming to rest in the small of my back. He walks me through the crowd, and helplessly I lean into him on jelly legs.

‘You looked like you were drowning there,’ he whispers to me. ‘Are you alright?’

I nod, because I can’t find the words. Tears gather, but I swallow them down. He walks me to the far side of the bar, where there are less people, and lets me go.

‘Are you sure you’re alright?’ he asks softly. ‘You’ve gone pale.’

‘He—’ I begin, and I realise that Aidan’s now sliding both his hands into mine, and if it wasn’t for all the emotions rushing through my chest, I would revel in how amazing it feels.

I shake my head. ‘H-He knew my dad. He was saying… and sometimes I… sometimes I just shut down when people start talking about him.’

‘Do you want me to get you some water?’

‘Please.’

‘Wait here. Don’t move.’

He lets me go and I stand there, trying to calm myself. I watch him go to the bar and he comes back with a glass of iced water.

‘Are you alright to stay?’ he asks.

I drink. I look to the crowd then back up at him. His hair falls into his eyes. My heart beats faster, not because of what just happened, but because of my proximity to him.

‘I… I might go back to my room,’ I say, still flustered.

‘You want me to walk you there?’

I keep drinking water. I want to say yes but everything feels unfamiliar. The sight of him does things to my insides that I can’t explain. I know there’s another party happening later – one that Ziggy has technically banned – but suddenly I don’t want to go to it.

‘I can go alone; I’ll be alright. I think I’m a bit tired.’