Page 21 of Gabriel's Album

“No, I really,reallydon’t.”

I’m beginning to wonder exactly how this woman ended up with such strong feelings about paparazzi and celebrities, because I’ve never met anyone who dislikes those as much as she seems to. In fact, the vast majority of women that I’ve come across since becoming famous have been the polar opposite to her.

I guess this is probably something that we should talk about later. In the meantime, at least, there is a way to avoid having her photo taken.

“That’s fine,” I tell her. “Hang back when I get out of the limousine, and once I’ve moved on a bit, just get out and walk straight to the entrance. They won’t recognize you, and if you don’t interact with them, they won’t bother with you.”

“Does that really work?” Ariana asks. “I thought they’d take photos of everyone just in case.”

“They might snap a photo or two of you, but without any information on you, they don’t have much to put under it. ‘Random Person out of Gabriel Knight’s limousine’ doesn’t really have much of a ring to it. If you watch, someone coming out of one of those limos will probably do it.”

As a third limousine pulls up at the red carpet and Patrick Taylor gets out, I point it out to her because I know what’s going to happen. Patrick is an A-list actor, and he has his photos taken before moving to the side. After that, I see his boyfriend get out, along with his girlfriend.

I’m always amazed that the media haven’t figured out their relationship status, because they go everywhere with him, but there aren’t even any rumors about them. More power to them, I say. Denise and Brent make a beeline for the venue entrance despite people calling out to them.

As our limousine pulls up to the red carpet, the driver walks around it to come open the door and let us out. I turn to her, blocking the view of any nosy paparazzi who might be able to peek in through the dark windows and give her a quick kiss on the lips.

“I’ll see you in there, sweetheart,” I whisper as the door opens behind me.

I turn again and get out of the limousine amongst cries of “Gabriel!”, “Gabriel Knight!”, and “Mr. Cruise Control!”. I plaster a bright smile on my face and begin answering questions. I’m keeping an eye on the limousine in my peripheral vision as I find out from one of the reporters that my friends are already here.

“Yes, we’re all really excited about the tour,” I reply to a reporter as Ariana walks behind me.

Our hands brush, and I can’t stop the small smile that comes across my face, because her touch is oddly comforting. I wish I could hug her, but I don’t even dare look at her. I make my way slowly up the red carpet, answering the same questions about the tour and the band.

“April’s a great girl; I’m happy to be here to celebrate her birthday.”

“Definitely. We’re all excited about the tour.”

I smile and pose.

“No, I’m not seeing anyone at the moment.”

I shake someone’s hand and smile.

“Very excited. Our first tour is something that we’re looking forward to a lot.”

“Yeah, we’ve known April for a while. I was so happy she got the Grammy.”

I take another few steps, then smile and pose.

“Oh yeah, we’re all pumped about the tour. It’ll be great.”

“We’ve written some songs, but we’ll probably start working on the next album when the tour ends.”

I greet another reporter and pose.

“Yes, the tour is going to be brilliant.”

“So happy to be here to celebrate April’s birthday.”

It continues in this way as I make my way toward the entrance of the venue. I can now see Ariana standing just inside. She’s like a homing beacon calling to me, and I just need to get through these last few reporters before I’ll be free to be with her.

“How long have you and April Conway been friends?” one of the last few journalists asks.

“We’ve known each other for a while now,” I reply. “She’s pretty awesome and incredibly talented.”

“Are you looking forward to going on tour?” another asks.

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