Following an excruciating evening of back-slapping amongst the music industry darlings, and only the obvious people winning awards, Jem decides we should go to the after party. I protest again, but there’re people Jem wants to chat to.
In the semi-darkened function room filled with the A Listers, I sit with the band on a plush sofa and stare at the contents of the low metal table in front of me. I stop drinking water and start on the champagne. I don’t normally drink wine but it’s close by.
Jem disappears and I sit awkwardly with Liam and Cerys. Sky and Dylan didn’t hang around and left straight after the ceremony. Skulking in the darkened corner, I’m not interesting to anyone around so I wait for Jem to return. This is a side of Jem’s life I haven’t seen before and hope it’s not one he indulges in too often. I wish the Ruby Riot boys had been invited too.
“Jem hates these night too, but he wanted the press to see him sober,” Liam remarks as if reading my mind. “And calm—he’s calm when you’re around which is why Jem wanted you here.”
Calm? They haven’t heard us when we disagree over something. Hell, sometimes one wrong word, and we don’t talk for half a day. Jem’s edgier over the last week too and I’m increasingly worried that our three months of Jem and Ruby’s happy place is waning.
“He said that?” I ask.
“In not so many words.”
Cerys reappears from the bathrooms and tugs Liam’s arm. “I’m tired, can we go yet?”
“Having as much fun as me?” I ask, twisting my glass in my hand.
“It’s overwhelming,” replies Cerys. “But I guess you’ll become used to attending once you’re up there getting the awards.”
I smile at her taking time to talk to me. “Yeah. Maybe.”
“Oh, you will,” says Liam, “otherwise Jem’s going to kick some ass until you get recognised.”
If Jem doesn’t come back soon, he’s going to be the one getting his ass kicked.
Once Liam and Cerys leave, I decide it’s time me and Jem left. If this was a normal party, I’d keep drinking but this fakery… no, thanks.
Unable to find Jem in this room, I head to the hallway outside, past the bouncers. I hope they take a good look and allow me back in because they already stare as if I crashed the place.
Kristie heads down the hotel hallway towards me, her assets spilling out of her tight white dress, unsteady on her sky-high heels. She pauses when she reaches me, attempting to focus on my face.
“You looking for Jem?” she asks.
“Hi, Kristie. How are you?”
“Pretty good.” She rubs the pink lipstick at the corner of her mouth with a finger. “Jem’s back there. I just finished with him.”
However hard I try, I know my reaction to her words isn’t hidden from my face. “Right. Okay.”
“Interesting that he’s chosen you,” she continues “But then Jem’s always trying to put back together the broken little girls.”
“Rather than fucking ageing rock widows?” I retort.
“How do you know he’s not doing both?” For emphasis, Kristie adjusts the front of her dress.
Bitch. “Right. Sure.”
Kristie cocks a brow. “You know what me and Jem have in common?”
“I’m too polite to say,” I snap, my distrust of Jem morphing into anger. He said he wouldn’t screw anyone else. Jem promised.
“More than he does with you.”
“Mmm-hmm.” I look past her, hoping Jem appears from the nearby bathrooms, but praying he doesn’t at the same time.
Kristie bends toward me. “Silly girl. Why would a man who cares about nothing care about you?”
“Then you don’t know Jem,” I retort.