Chapter Seven

"There's the thorn in my side!" Rhys is positively far too chirpy for me this morning. After spending too long fretting and not getting enough sleep last night, it's going to take me quite a while to perk up today. And all of that silly fretting seems to have been a total waste of my precious sleeping time, as both Cameron and Rhys are acting completely normal with me.

Cam had met me once again in the Hyde's foyer. He was friendly and polite without a whiff of flirtation around me.

Then there's Rhys Ryan. Who is very much back to his usual and cocky self. Teasing me at every possible opportunity and flirting whenever he feels like it.

I am beginning to think that maybe he was just winding me up about Cameron and about the contagious thing. I was extremely tired last night and probably just read far too much into Rhys just being Rhys. "Were you being a naughty girl last night?" He's crudely smirking at me, waggling his brows as he's looking just below my eyes that show to the world just how tired I really am.

Incensed by his stupid innuendo, I protest my innocence. "No I was not! I'm just—"

Not letting me even finish, he blurts out. "Knackered!" Really pleased with himself because he's remembered the word.

"Yes, I am." I admit, sounding a little deflated as I know it's going to be hard to keep up with Rhys and his team today. It's not just having enough energy for the whole of today, I am also going to need a shed load for the evening as well.

Without warning, Rhys Ryan brings his arm right around me. "Don't worry, we'll all look after you today. I'll ply you with coffee if I have to."

His cheesy big grin down at me is actually just what I need. "Thank you." I sweetly thank him, very much aware of his arm that is still draped around my shoulder.

He proudly grins. "You're welcome." Then squeezing me just that little bit tighter, his grin grows wider still. "Anyway, I need you to get that adrenaline going, as I'd like you to come to the wrap party tonight."

Tensing in his hold, I respond slowly with some trepidation. "You do?"

Beaming from ear to ear, he squeezes me again. "Of course I do."

My eyebrows squeeze together, squeezing as I think about whether I'll actually go the distance...I'm soooooo damn tired! "But I haven't brought a change of clothes with me?" My first reason not to go to the wrap party soon flies from out of my mouth as I'm frowning down at my nice and formal Cigarette Suit. Even if I remove the jacket and wear only the nude coloured silk shirt with the cute cropped trousers, I'll still look like some kind of uptight secretary at the party. Reluctant to say yes, I offer him a too-quick smile instead.

Tilting his chin and frowning, he seems disappointed at the possibility of me not going. "I'd really like it if you'd come, Clara. When I go present shopping, you can buy something then." His eyes are now bargaining with me, hoping I'll say yes.

I do always have my hairbrush, hairspray, hair grips and my makeup with me, so at least I don't need to worry about that. I could maybe just spruce up my hair or something. As long as I get a dress that will match my black patent stilettos, maybe this Cinderella will be able to go to the ball after all? Feeling a lot more positive about the whole after party thing, I finally agree to go. "Okay, I'd love to come."

Rhys Ryan is genuinely pleased, his voice is bubbly and light. "Good!" Then before letting go of my shoulder, he gives it one more celebratory squeeze. "Right, we had better make a move. Busy day and all that. Cam, is the driver good to go?" Cameron has constantly had his mobile phone attached to his ear since bringing me up to the hotel room. Still talking to someone on it, he gives Rhys the thumbs- up to tell him that the driver is ready for him. "Will? Jules? Have we got everything, guys?" He looks across to his faithful friend and assistant, doing a mental checklist as he quickly scans the room for anything he might have forgotten. With a sweeping glance in almost every part of the room, his eyes soon fall on me. His hurried glance seems to settle, like it's happy to linger there for a while. "Clara, stay close...we can cover some of your interview questions in the car." His voice is almost as soft as his stare on me is—both being gently persuasive.

"Okay." I feel like I am obedient tumbleweed behind Rhys and his busy entourage. Just lightly rolling behind them as they begin their hectic day. I don't actually know where we are going, I only know that it's some kind of photo shoot.

As everyone is exiting the hotel, I notice a few paps are lurking around The Hyde's grand entrance. They are being kept noisily entertained by a large gathering of fans who are screaming their lungs off at the brief glimpse of Rhys Ryan as he quickly gets into the car. One young girl is so hysterical, I am fearful that she might burst a few blood vessels in her eyes. "Clara, get in!" My attention is soon dragged away from the shrieking fan by Rhys's strong voice. He's patting the car seat beside him, my cue to place my butt right there.

Stepping quickly inside, the car becomes a safe haven for my ears. "Wow...those girls were just a little bit excited, weren't they?" I quip, making myself more comfortable beside Rhys.

He chuckles, shrugging a little. "That's actually a pretty quiet bunch."

Surprised, my pinched expression says it all. "Really?"

Fans fascinate me. The adulation some people have over celebrities and high-profile people is unfathomable to me. Don't get me wrong, I love Adam Levine and Daniel Craig...but would I scream until I peed myself or maybe cause a bleed on the brain if I were ever to meet them? No, I wouldn't. If anything, I'd probably just smile and worry about what to say next. Besides, in my job, you can't be peeing and vessel popping with every celeb you meet. It's just not professional.

I like to actually think that I have a healthy admiration for certain celebs. A respectful politeness shown towards them. Any inner squeals and knicker wetting must be absolutely saved for another time.

I think the one and only time I have ever got a little star struck was when I met Sir David Attenborough at some big media event. The enigmatic man is a national treasure, an honourable naturalist, a genteel legend. My colleague at the time, thought it highly hilarious that I was too awe-stricken to even say a simple hello to him. In the end, I thought it best that my rather overwhelmed self should just stay in the corner and inconspicuously stare at him all night. That way, I didn't make a fool of myself, embarrass him or my amused colleague. I still cringe about that night. Reaching forward, I retrieve my dictaphone from out of my bag. Wanting to chat to Rhys about his fame. Pressing the RECORD button, I shift around in my seat slightly. "Being famous on your scale of famous, how do you cope with it?"

Rhys looks at me, nonchalantly shrugging. "Just like everyone has, I have good and bad days. There are days that I want to be amongst them, meet and chat with them. Then there are days that I just want to be alone. Those are the days that I find the hardest, because of who I am, I am not meant to be alone. And when I feel like that, I kind of feel guilty. My fans are the ones who have given me this life. They've given me the joy of sharing my music with the world. So when I get my selfish days, I always try to remember that." His honesty sits between us. His honesty is quickly becoming one of his most endearing qualities to me.

Wanting to keep the interview light and enjoyable for him, I ask another fame related question. "You must have had a moment when you realised that you had hit the big time. A moment when you said to yourself 'I am famous'. Do you remember it?"

With a boyish smirk, he nods enthusiastically. "I remember it like it was yesterday. I had just returned home after doing a small promotional tour for my debut single. Things were just kinda taking off but my mom and stepdad still weren't sure about the path I was taking. I had dropped out of college to pursue my musical career and although mom supported me to a certain degree, Don, my stepdad, didn't. Anyway, I came home. Mom was whining about the amount of laundry I had. Don was just about to kick off about it when my debut record suddenly came on the radio in the kitchen. I swear, it was a like sign or something. I remember us all just staring at each other, not really knowing what to say or do...it was just a crazy and surreal moment, if you know what I mean. Then my sister came in and was crying and hugging me. It was then that I thought 'I'm famous'."

I love how sweetly nostalgic he makes it sound to me. I love how his face beams with the memory of it all. I feel like he's sharing something so very personal with me, and I like that feeling. "Your sister is older than you, right?"

At the mere mention of his sister, Rhys becomes tense and uneasy. He tries hiding it behind a forced smile, but I notice the shift in his demeanour almost immediately. There isn't much to be known about his sister, or his entire family for that matter. Rhys Ryan certainly likes to keep his loved ones from out of the limelight. There have been unfounded rumours that the relationship with his family is somewhat strained, but I don't pick up on any of that. I can see the love in his eyes when he talks about his family. The fondness is clearly heard in his voice. I don't know why he reacts that way about his sister, but know that if he wanted to tell me, he would. Obviously, he chooses not to, so I think better of pushing him on it and decide to ask him about his stepdad instead. "I bet your stepdad is eating his words now, isn't he?"

Rhys scoffs back at me. "Not at all! I think he would have been much happier if I had become an architect, just like him."

"Really?" I move my neck, wanting him to look at me.

When he does, I see a distant sadness in his eyes. He says nothing for a short moment, almost wanting me to connect with his far away pain. Only then does his burdened reply come. "Don is a simple guy. He doesn't understand why I chose music over college. He thinks my fame hasn't given me a life, he thinks it has taken it away. He can't stand all the fame. He doesn't understand why I would choose to actually live the way that I am."

With empathy written all over my face, I need to ask him something else. "Surely he's proud of your music, though?"

Rhys smiles, a smile that's just passing through on our conversation. "Yeah, he kinda digs that."

Leaning my shoulder against his in a friendly manner, I am almost whispering. "Shall we keep this part of the interview 'off the record'?"

Taking me by complete surprise as I'm switching off my dictaphone, Rhys gently places his hand on top of mine. "If you don't mind, I'd like that very much."