Page 51 of Ex in the City
Dylan, always the gentleman (these days, at least), nods and maintains a friendly tone.
‘I’ve probably forgotten any stories worth telling,’ he replies. ‘But I’ll bet Nicole can tell you a few.’
Jessica isn’t interested in what I have to say. She flashes me the briefest of smiles before turning her attention back to Dylan.
‘Well, I’d still love to hear it from the horse’s mouth,’ she continues. ‘And we were wondering if you might sing tonight. I would love to see you up there, doing your thing – we both would.’
She quickly adds on those last few words, I’d imagine to offset the flirty-sounding voice she said the bit before in.
‘Usually, I would love to,’ Dylan replies. ‘But I made a promise to my friend that she could sing tonight.’
‘But Dylan, you said Nicole can’t sing,’ Joey points out.
Fantastic to be reminded of that fact again.
‘Oh, no, she can’t,’ Dylan agrees with a shudder. ‘I was talking about my other friend.’
Before the conversation can go any further, a bulked-up figure in a black suit walks into the village hall, towering above the few kids that are here, terrifying pretty much all of them.
‘He’s singing?’ Joey asks, even more confused now.
Dylan grins and nods towards the door.
‘No, she is,’ he replies.
My jaw drops with everyone else as we witness the unexpected and unbelievable arrival of pop superstar Tay Magenta. She struts in, dazzling in a glitzy pink catsuit, her pink hair cascading in bouncy curls that have a life of their own. It’s amazing how she can walk through a village hall the same way she walked the catwalk during Fashion Week, and still look just as flawless.
‘Happy birthday, Joey,’ Tay chirps, approaching the birthday boy, who can only manage to gawp at her in awe.
Dylan doesn’t miss a beat, stepping in to greet her with a hug and a couple of showbiz air kisses.
‘Tay, hi. Thanks for coming,’ he says.
‘No problem,’ Tay says. She turns to Joey. ‘Dylan said I could come to your party, thanks for inviting me.’
As Joey and Jessica begin chatting with Tay, I turn to Dylan, completely gobsmacked.
‘Tay Magenta is a friend of yours?’ I say in disbelief. ‘And you got her to come to a kids’ party?’
‘Sometimes I think you forget I’m Dylan King,’ he replies. ‘Not to hit you with a “don’t you know who I am” – but do you remember, for your birthday, when I hired out that science museum you love, just for the two of us to walk around, and you couldn’t understand how I’d blagged it?’
I laugh. It was a museum I used to visit as a kid, full of interactive things for kids to do, to learn all about all areas of science – but, crucially, it was for kids. One of the most depressing things about growing up is realising that, one day, you’re not allowed to visit one of your favourite places any more. So Dylan – being Dylan – got them to open it for a night, for mybirthday, and we spent hours in there, just the two of us, having a laugh, playing with all the exhibitions.
‘Fair enough,’ I reply.
‘To answer your questions, yes, she’s a friend of mine,’ he explains. ‘And she owed me a favour, so she was happy to do it.’
My inner curiosity nags at me, but I decide to let it go. After all, this is an incredibly kind gesture. It doesn’t matter what Dylan did to make it happen.
‘I can’t stay too long, unfortunately, but I thought I could sing a couple of songs if you’d like?’ Tay tells Joey.
Joey, for the first time today, is beaming with confidence.
‘Yes, please!’ he replies.
Tay grins back at him.
‘I’ll go set up,’ she says.
