Page 28 of I Knew You Were Trouble

‘But what about the fans who also self-harm? Don’t you think it would be helpful for them to see? To know that none of you are perfect or infallible?’

His eyes gloss over. I wonder if I’ve pushed him too far. ‘That really would be the start of something, wouldn’t it?’ he murmurs. ‘It would mean coming clean. And… I’m not sure I’m ready for that yet.’

When we’re finished, Ravi is anxious to get away, and I call Bodhi to come and collect him. In my room, I show the footage back to Duncan and Meredith.

‘I can’t help feeling that I’m scratching the surface,’ I say, pacing, already thinking of follow-up questions.

‘It’s the first time I’ve ever seen Ravi sovulnerable,’ Meredith admits.

‘Well?’ I say to Duncan, who’s yet to react. ‘What did you think?’

He sucks air through his teeth. ‘Hidden cameras. Getting members of a boy band to bare their souls to you. It’s a dangerous game, Lex. It’s exactly what Silverpix is gonna expect from someone like you.’ He grins, as he adds, ‘I think it’s brilliant.’

I smile, but underneath I’m nervous. I worry that the rest of the band will refuse my offer of an in-depth interview. And, more pertinently, that Aidan McArthur will remain determined to cause trouble.

For starters, it would be nice if I could get him out of my head.

Chapter Nine

In my hotel room, I’m pacing. My fourth call to Ziggy has gone unanswered.

When he finally calls me back, I find it hard to keep my frustration in check.

‘Where is everyone?’ I demand. ‘How can I be expected to film if I don’t even know where you are?’

‘We’re finishing the “Shame About My Face” video,’ he informs me. ‘We’re somewhere north-west of Seoul. You don’t need to film this. I didn’t mention we were doing it today because it ain’t part of the tour. It’s the last segment of their video that we’re scrambling to get finished on time. There’re too many people up here as it is.’

I look to the ceiling, the picture in my mind of Vaughn Hererra’s angry face. I remember now that Ziggy told me about this, back in Japan, and I should have paid more attention. ‘Ziggy, I don’t mean to sound rude, but it’s not up to you what I choose, or not choose to film. A little variety will give colour to the documentary. It’s a snapshot of a specific time. Non-stop footage of the boys rehearsing and performing is only entertaining for so long.’

There is a crash in the background. Ziggy shouts at someone. Moments later, his voice is back on the line. ‘Look, the lads are all knackered, the director’s not happy, it’s not goin’ to plan,’ he continues. ‘Miller’s already fallen off a car… Aidan’s got a busted shoulder… We’re gonna be here longer than expected. You cannot film anything today.’

The next thing I hear out of the loudspeaker is, ‘Playback!’ Then, from a separate set of speakers somewhere, the audio version of the track blasts out.

‘And… action!’

I press my fingers to the bridge of my nose. ‘I’m not afraid to call Silverpix if we can’t reach an agreement.’

There’s some rustling. He seems to be walking, the sound in the background moving further away. ‘Look,’ Ziggy hisses at me. ‘The single’s scheduled to release in Sydney next week. Record company’s already been jumping up and down that the video edit’s not been finalised yet. I mean, how that’s my problem, I don’t know, but they’re the ones refusing to delay the release. I’ve got two editors waiting in New York as we speak to receive all the footage from today, so they can slot it all into the existing edit. Nine hours today probably reduced to about twenty seconds. All because of some product placement. Bloody ridiculous. I’m sorry, Lexi, but I can’t handle you being here as well right now.’

I don’t see any member of Rebel Heart again until the following night, at Seoul’s Gocheok Sky Dome, the stadium where they are playing their gig: the first of three performances. I’ve passed word to Ziggy, requesting that I be permitted to film the boys’ huddle in the moments before they go on stage, but with Duncan lying down with a camera and filming upwards. Word comes back to me that the boys have allowed it.

With the usual screams from the crowd cutting through the air and reverberating in my ears, I stand beside Meredith with my own camera at my side, in the space below the main stage. There is a flurry of activity all around us, radio messages being passed, between the various departments. We’re waiting for a glimpse of the boys executing their pre-show huddle. I’m not sure what I’m hoping for. In the end, the moment lasts no more than a few seconds, before the boys take up their positions, ready to be launched upwards into the arena. Meredith grabs my hand and together we race up to the access doors that lead to the arena floor, readying myself to film the opening number: the boys’ cover of the breakout K-pop track, “Gangnam Style”.

Before the show starts, standing beside the base of the stage, Meredith nudges me in my side.

‘Better turn on your camera,’ she says to me over the din. ‘This is gonna beiconic. The stans have been waiting for this moment foryears. Literally.’

I raise my eyebrows, my finger finding the power button on my camera. Suddenly I’m anxious; I want Duncan here. When he arrives, I make sure he has a good view of the stage. I want to capture the audience reaction in the Korean capital.

I note Meredith has her phone out, and is already readying herself to capture this whole moment.

My heart begins to hammer. I had no idea this was such a big deal.

The stadium goes black. The resulting screams burst my ear drums. All that is visible is an ocean of lit up phone screens raised in the air. Hovering. Waiting.

‘The moment they perform this, social media will blow up, I guarantee you,’ Meredith shouts to me. ‘Just watch.’

In the darkness, a record scratches. There sounds out a posh British voice over the speakers. ‘We interrupt our regularly scheduled programming to bring you the following messages,’ it announces, and the tension amongst the crowd ramps up, the atmosphere in the stadium wholly electric. I’ve not been to many live gigs – mostly small, intimate ones performed by grungy guitar bands where the beer is warm and the ceilings are low – but already I know that this performance is going to be sensational.

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