Page 78 of Our Song

‘Look, I’m going to go,’ I say.‘You stay and finish your breakfast.’

Katie and Jeanne make protesting noises but I insist.I need to be on my own for a while.I pay for all our breakfasts on my way out, and a few heads turn as I make my way to the counter.The girl at the till, who’s there most weekends, says, ‘It’s so coolabout you and Tadhg Hennessy!You should bring him in here sometime!’

I smile weakly at her and think I would rather die.

Once outside, I cross the road to Fairview Park and wander along a path under the trees.My phone is on silent – I couldn’t quite bring myself to leave it at home – but when I take it out of my bag there are more texts and messages.It feels like everyone I’ve ever known has heard about this story.Even if Tadhg somehow has an explanation for it coming out, it still won’t change the fact that the whole world now thinks I’m his charity case.People will be talking about this, they’ll be talking about me …

And somehow it’s only now that it hits me they’ll be doing all this on social media.

I’m not particularly active on Twitter, and my DMs are limited to mutuals only, but when I open it I see that I have 3,000 new followers.And hundreds and hundreds of people have tagged me in their tweets.Numbly, I click on the mentions feed.

If @tadhghennessymusic wants to rescue someone can he rescue me instead of some ugly hag like @lauramakesads?

OMG Tadhg can do so much better than you @lauramakesads

Leave Tadhg alone @lauramakesads!

So jealous of you and Tadhg @lauramakesads!!!!!Lucky girl

I close the app quickly.I feel hot and sick and my hands feel clammy.I stand there for a minute, letting the waves of sickness wash over me.But then, because I’m clearly a masochist, I open Instagram.Again, I’ve got thousands of new followers.There are many, many new comments.My hands are shaking so much I nearly drop my phone as I click on the comments under the most recent photo I posted on the grid, a nice one of me and Katie at a friend’s birthday party a few months ago.A shallow part of me is glad that at least I don’t look like a tragic waif in this one – I’m wearing my Paris vintage dress, the one I was wearing, fuck, how was it only last night?And Katie looks incredibly chic, with her bleached wavy bob and a batwing Cos top.

Then I look at the comments.

She doesn’t exactly look destitute, does she?She must have spun Tadhg some sob story.

Tadhg has such a good soul.Can’t believe he’s been taken in by this grifter.

Amazing hair, amazing dress.And her friend is gorgeous!

OMG Tadhg can do so much better than this.

Jesus she looks good for her age, doesn’t she?Isn’t she practically 40?!

Aww you are so cute!Love the dress.

How much did you pay that guy to say everyone fancied you?!!!!

I click on another photo.There are many, many more comments like this.There are comments analysing my face, my body, my hair, how old I look, how old I must be.There are comments calling me a whore, calling me a con artist, calling me a groupie.There are comments praising me, saying I must be so talented, that I look amazing.There are so, so, so many comments.I make my account private but it’s too late, I’ve seen all the comments now.I’ve seen what people are saying about me.Hundreds, thousands of people, all over the world, all with an opinion of me.It’s too much.It’s just too much.

I sit down on a park bench and burst into tears.

Chapter Twenty-Five

2002–2003

It should have been me.

It should have been me who flirted with him after our gig.It should have been me he kissed that night.It should have been me who walked out of that venue holding his hand.It should have been me.It should all have been me.

But it wasn’t me.

It was Jess.

Before our gig I’d been so convinced there was something between me and him.I’d been convinced he was going to kiss me that night we went for dinner, before Ruairí interrupted us.But because I wasn’t a hundred per cent sure, because he had never actually declared his love for me, I hadn’t done anything about it.Jess couldn’t possibly have been totally sure either.But she still risked it.She asked him to that family party.She asked him back to her flat after the gig.

And it worked.

I dragged myself into college reluctantly the day after the gig, my stomach churning at the prospect of seeing Tadhg and Jess together, but there was no sign of either of them.A few people came up to me and told me how great the gig had been, but I couldn’t think about the band right now.I didn’t see Fiachra either, though I did get a text from him that day.

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