Page 36 of Falling for Grace

I smile through my tears and nod. And I know I shouldn’t, but part of me feels guilty. I’ve been trying so hard to move on and put my past where it should be, that I find myself pushing everyone away, blocking everyone out just in case it comes up.

But it’s part of me, it’s what has made me me, the new me.

“I think I’d like to talk,” I say through a deep sigh. She nods and puts her hand out.

“In your own time, there’s no rush. Let’s just go and have a cup of tea and start from there. But I have to warn you…” She pulls me up and I stand in front of her waiting for whatever she is about to drop on me. “When Brandon found out he was giving a live television interview. His phone went off, and as punishment they made him answer it… It’s pretty heart-breaking, and they just keep playing it over and over again.”

I hurt for him, for his family, and for me. So much pain through one person’s actions. Danny was so selfless, and my mind is full of so many questions as to why someone so selfless did something so selfish.

But then I find myself wondering if I’m being too hard on him. I don’t know what the situation was, and why he did it. Could it all be just a coincidence that I called, and then this happened? Was my call the final trigger? Guilt crashes through me like a huge stormy ocean wave.

This whole situation is a complete head fuck.

“Do you want to watch some of the news?” Theresa asks from the kitchen. I can hear her moving around making our tea as I plonk myself on the sofa in the lounge.

“Yes.” It will be painful but I need to see Brandon, I need to see how he is. I’m a mess, and the only person who truly shares what I’m feeling is him.

Theresa doesn’t reply but the TV mounted on the wall comes to life and I can see straight away they’re running the News on E!

“Tonight’s breaking story.”Breaking, that annoys me straight away. Danny's death is a breaking story, just because his brother is who he is. It’s hard enough this is happening, but the fact that the whole world is interested…

“Brandon Holder receives devastating news live on Jimmy Kimmel. We have the exclusive clip of the moment it transpires. We would like to take this opportunity to send our thoughts and prayers to Brandon and his family during this hard time.”

Why do they feel the need to continue to report on it?

The reporter disappears and the Jimmy Kimmel clip is shown.

Brandon is sitting on the chair in front of Kimmel. The first thing that hits me is his beauty. His hair is its usual messy just-crawled-out-of-bed look, and he is wearing blue jeans with a suit jacket and T-shirt underneath, his eyes the bright green that I love to fall into.

“Oh, shit,” he says, looking at Jimmy as his phone starts to ring. “This is kinda embarrassing.” He laughs. “It’s my mother.” He smiles and holds the phone up and the word “Mum” is clearly displayed on the screen.

“Can I answer it?” Jimmy asks, smiling, and Brandon nods, passing the phone over to him.

“Hello, Brandon Holder’s phone.” He winks at Brandon, who is now leaning back, looking relaxed and in his element.

“She’s probably demanding a visit,” he says to the appreciative audience.

I move forward in my seat. You can see it on Jimmy’s face, his expression changing on live television in an instant.

“Brandon.” He holds the phone up to him, and Brandon takes it back.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Jimmy addresses the audience, “we have to cut this interview short.” He holds his ear and I can read his lips mouth “Commercial”, but that’s the last attention I pay to Jimmy. My eyes are on Brandon as Sue delivers the gut-wrenching news that his brother has died. The cameras are still rolling, he hides his face with one hand.

The audience is deathly silent as they watch this Hollywood superstar break down in front of them. No one needs to know Brandon like I do to see that some terrible news has been delivered. He nods once and places the phone back in his pocket.

Why haven’t they turned the camera off?

In fairness, this probably stopped being live when Jimmy asked to cut to commercials, but some show producer probably sold the footage to the highest bidder, because that’s how this shit works.

Brandon unfolds his six-foot frame from his chair, and I watch as he takes his suit jacket off. Assistants come on set to help remove the microphone, and Jimmy Kimmel stands with his hand clamped on his shoulder, talking to him.

Brandon is nodding, but he’s not paying attention, I know that much. His whole body is tense.

I gasp as I realise that he has something around his wrist, something from our past. More tears fill my eyes.

“What?” Theresa asks, placing the steaming mug of tea in front of me.

“Look at his hand,” I say, pointing to the screen. She turns to the TV and sits next to me.

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