Page 7 of I Would Die for You

“Youknowhim?” she asks, her voice high-pitched.

Amelia nods coyly, giving nothing away.

“Like, to actuallytalkto?” Cassie blurts out, her brain working too fast for her mouth to keep up. “And he knowsyou?How?”

“Well…” Amelia starts, basking in the adulation her admission has afforded her. “We’ve known each other since this crazy ride began two years ago. I was first on the scene, having caught up with them after one of their early gigs in Brighton, and now we’re here, playing on top of the world’s most famous music store.”

She says it as if she’s part of the entourage, but if she were, she’d have anAccess All Areaspass hanging from her neck, instead of almost breaking it by racing up five escalators to catch a glimpse of her idols from sixty feet away.

Cassie casts a suspicious glare as Amelia waves at the band, half-prepared to exchange her skepticism for jealousy if Ben Edwards waves back. She doesn’t know whether she’s relieved or disappointed when her new friend’s call for attention goes unanswered. Though it doesn’t seem to bother Amelia, who jumps up onto the banquette and hands her an Instamatic camera.

“Make sure you get them in the background!” she says, posing with her hands on her hips.

As Cassie peers through the viewfinder, she thinks that Amelia would be a lot prettier if she ditched the heavy black kohl and dark burgundy lipstick. It’s too much for her petite features and makes her look unnecessarily aggressive.

“Oi, get down from there!” shouts a voice from across the sedate restaurant.

Amelia smiles and sticks two fingers up, much to onlookers’ disgust.

“You should be ashamed of yourselves,” says a woman near them, her hairdo so stiff that it looks like she’s got a dead ferret on her head. “Do your parents even know you’re here?”

Amelia goes to issue a retort, but something catches her eye. “Oh my god, look,” she says, pointing out of the window.

Cassie is rendered speechless by the appearance of at least twenty policemen making their way slowly across the rooftop toward the band. The bobbies move as if they’re closing in on a hardened criminal, but Ben and the boys are defiantly playing on, only faltering when Michael, the drummer, is manhandled, sending his sticks flying.

Ben brandishes his guitar like a riot shield, while Luke stands his ground behind his keyboard.

“Come on!” says Amelia, as if issuing a call to arms.

By the time they emerge into the blistering heat outside, the crowd are growing increasingly unsettled. The music has stopped and the police have become even more combative.

“They’ll come out round the back,” says Amelia, grabbing Cassie by the hand again and heading in the opposite direction to everyone else. She ducks down a side street and they run with burning lungs around the block, but there’s already a sizeable crowd surrounding the two black limousines that are parked there.

“Link arms and don’t let go,” says Amelia, throwing herself into the outskirts of the throng as if she were diving into a swimming pool.

Cassie follows hesitantly, not wanting to break the connection, but she closes her eyes, relying on Amelia’s lead to take her to where she needs to be.

The horde moves forward, picking Cassie up and taking her with them. The noise rises, the screams of young girls piercing her eardrums.

“Ben! I love you!”

“Michael, over here!”

“Luke, marry me!”

Cassie’s body slams into something hard and unforgiving, her feet leaving the ground as she’s lifted over the back of a car. She calls out—not in pain, but in shock and confusion, her mind unable to work out whether Amelia is pulling her or the crowd are pushing her.

“Ben!” Amelia yells. “What’s going on?”

Cassie jostles for position, trying to follow Amelia’s voice, but the physical contact is lost and she doesn’t even know which way is up, let alone where Amelia is. But suddenly, she seeshim,and the cacophony surrounding her is silenced, the hysteria no longer audible. It’s as if she’s been anesthetized, her limbs falling victim to the effect before her mind has a chance to.

Ben Edwards is so close that if she were to reach out, she’d beable to touch him. But her arms are pinned to her sides; it’s only her eyes that can move, tracking his movements as he is pushed and shoved even more than she is.

“Ben!” Amelia calls out again, somehow managing to catch his attention.

He looks up, sees her and offers a solemn smile. “Hey, Mils,” he says, as he’s bundled into the back seat of the limo.

“Get back!” barks an overzealous security guard, before slamming the door and hitting the roof with an open palm. “Go, go, go!”

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