Page 109 of Going Solo

“There we go, doesn’t that feel better?”

It did.

“So, why aren’t you together? Everyone thinks you belong together. I do. His family does. He does. The listeners ofPop Reviewobviously do.”

I sighed. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? Everyone has an opinion. It doesn’t matter that I will probably love him until the day I die. When the public has no idea about us, things are great, but the second they know we exist, they have opinions—sometimes they express those opinions by smashing windows, spraying nasty things on walls, and trying to burn down a salon. I can only take so much. One way or another, the opinions of other people have kept us apart for twelve years. And, I’m gonna say it like it is, you were a part of that.”

“Not me,” Robbie said.

“You were part ofMake Me a Pop Star.”

“And I have to hold my hands up to that and own it. That show has caused a lot of people a lot of pain, and I was a part of that. But it was also me who pulled Cole aside and told him to take care of what you two had. I thought he’d regret it if he lost it. I could see what was coming. I knew what the producers were doing. I should have done more to protect you both, and I’m sorry. I’ve only ever wanted what’s best for Cole. And aside from his music career, Cole has only ever wanted you. If anyone should know that, it’s me—because he and I have been through some shit together.”

Tears were streaming down my face. I looked through the glass to the production booth, where Tarneesha was also in tears and Nick was in whatever is Scottish for tears.

“Do you think I should call him?” I asked. Nick mouthed the words “thank you” and theatrically bowed. Neesh was nodding like a plastic dog on the dashboard of a Ford Fiesta.

Robbie laughed. “Call him? It’s a bit late for that.”

It was a punch to the gut.

“You need to show him. Do something to make sure Cole sees how youreallyfeel about him.”

The chatline was whizzing so fast it risked melting the screen. I hit pause to stop it refreshing.

Bernard V:Rock and roll Santa delivering real talk.

“What should I do?”

“That’s up to you,” Robbie said. “Cole wrote you a love song. Go write him a love story. Give it a happily ever after. He’s a good kid. You boys deserve forever.”

* * *

The post-show plan had been to join the gang at Miss Timmy’s for a celebratory dinner in Soho, but as we waited for the lift with our little boxes of personal belongings, all I could think about was Robbie Johnswagger’s advice.

“You should go out the fire escape one last time,” Nick said.

I shook my head. “I’m unemployed now. I can’t afford John’s fees.”

“John’s gone,” Tarneesha said.

“What?” Nick and I said in unison.

“The council banned him from busking anywhere in the entire City of Westminster.”

“Brutal,” Nick said.

“When did that happen?” I asked.

“Like, two months ago.”

The lift chimed, and the doors opened. Nick and Tarneesha got in. I didn’t move.

“Are you coming?” Nick asked.

“I think Iwilltake the fire escape,” I said. “For old times’ sake.”

Nick nodded. “We’ll hail a cab and meet you round the back.”

---