Page 59 of I Knew You Were Trouble

Cal gives a shrug, stabbing a piece of pineapple with his fork and shovelling it ungraciously into his mouth. ‘You know me, mate, I can talk to anyone about anything. I’m sure I can manage.’

A crew member has helped me with the cameras and lights. I’m waiting by the windows in the king-sized suite for Aidan to make his appearance, whilst looking at a stunning view of the Petronas Towers.

I’m all alone. And I’m terrified. I know he’ll wonder why I haven’t messaged him.

My phone vibrates. I don’t recognise the number on the screen.

‘Hello?’

‘Lexi,’ a familiar voice says. ‘It’s Vaughn Herrera. From Silverpix.’

I swallow. If there’s one reason why I haven’t messaged Aidan, it’s calling me right now.

‘Mr Herrera,’ I greet him. ‘How are you?’

‘Please, Lexi, call me Vaughn. I wanted to check in with our most talented documentary filmmaker and see how our biggest project for next year is going.’

I bite my lip. ‘It’s good. Very good, in fact.’

‘Excellent, because I heard rumours of a possible rift.’

‘That’s all resolved now. Everything is fine. We’ve been getting some great footage.’ I don’t elaborate on what kind of footage, or how I obtained it.

‘The team here would really love to see some rushes,’ Vaughn says.

He wants raw footage. Footage that I’m absolutely not ready to share. ‘I realise that. I – I just feel I would want to present something more cohesive to the team, rather than just send hours of uncut footage through to you all. I’d like to be able to give it a narrative.’

‘And you will be able to, of course. In the editing suite.’

‘We were able to film the concert in Sydney a few days ago,’ I tell him, changing the subject. ‘Where Aidan McArthur stopped the music because a girl in the crowd had fainted. It was on the news, did you see?’

‘I did see something about it, yes.’ I hear him sigh. ‘Well, if you insist. I trust you’re handling everything. You’ve got your award-winning reputation to uphold.’

‘I do, of course,’ I say, and his words feel like a gut punch, because one wrong move with Aidan, and both my personal and professional reputation will be left on the floor in tatters.

Not long after I’ve hung up, there’s a tap at the door.

I know it’s him before I’ve even opened it.

My heart starts to clatter in my chest, the nerves taking over. I know I have to be honest with him.

I think of my mother. She would never have got carried away like this.Always be professional, she would have said.Don’t fall for the charms of a boy band musician five years younger than you, because it’s a foolish endeavour.

I grip the door handle and take a breath, and tell myself not to get swept up in my emotions.

When I open the door, Aidan McArthur stands in the corridor with a jaunty smile on his face. It’s hard to comprehend how striking he is. ‘Hi,’ he says.

‘Hi,’ I say back, unsure.

‘Can I come in?’

I open the door wider. He’s wearing faded ripped jeans, a navy T-shirt, and a plaid shirt tied around his waist. His hair falls into his eyes again. A hanger containing a fitted black shirt with no creases hangs from his fingertips. Aidan saunters inside and hangs the hanger over the side of the chair.

‘I asked Tun, the costume guy, to iron me a shirt.’

‘Right.’

‘How’s Duncan feeling?’

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