only joking. It’s just a fucking laugh.
I shrugged them off, muscles wired and ready to fight. That fucking bitch. That nasty, devious, spiteful fucking bitch. I thought of my poor Gemma. Did she know? Was she hiding under the covers as chaos broke all around her?
I daren’t call. Who knows who she’d be with, she’d probably hate the sound of my name, hate that she’d ever met me. The ache in my stomach got worse, so much worse.
Fuck knows how I got through the afternoon, but the gates were teeming with press as I left the ground. They followed me all the way home, pulling up at the bottom of the drive and aiming their fucking lenses at the house.
April was waiting. She threw a vase at my head the moment I stepped over the threshold, screaming blue murder as it smashed in the doorframe. She was going for another as I reached her, pinning her arms at her sides as she hissed obscenities in my face.
“You stupid prick, Jason, you stupid, selfish fucking prick!”
“You knew,” I snapped. “You knew I’d met someone.”
“Not some fat fucking slag! Some hideous fucking troll straight out of a fucking fat-o-gram catalogue!”
“She’s not a fat slag and she’s no fucking troll, either. She’s beautiful, funny, real. Everything you’re not. Everything I’ve never fucking had.”
Her eyes flew wide. “You stupid wanker! She’s laughing at you, laughing at us! I bet she can’t believe her fucking luck.”
“I doubt that, April. I’ve ruined her fucking life.” I let go of April’s arms. Pacing. Hands in my hair. Thinking. Thinking.
“You’ll tell those reporters out there that it’s a load of shit. You’ll laugh and tell them she’s a joke. You’ll tell them you’d never consider fucking a fat girl like that, and you’ll make them believe you. PR will take care of the rest. We’ll make the world believe us. I mean, it’s impossible. As if you’d ever cheat on me with a woman like that.”
“I’ll never say those things, April, never. The few weeks I spent with Gemma were better than a whole fucking lifetime with a nasty bitch like you.”
“You will say those things, Jason. You’ll say them or it’s over. I’ll throw you to the fucking wolves, and you can say goodbye to your sponsorships, and your big career comeback at thirty fucking three. You can say goodbye to the house as well, you’ll be fucked. Dragging my name through the mud like this, any fool’s going to award me what’s mine.”
I went through to the dining room, poured myself a big old shot of whisky as she trailed behind. “Gemma’s done nothing wrong. This is that bitch friend of hers again, Chelsea.”
“Who gives a fuck whose fault this is?! It needs sorting out. Us or them!”
I fixed her in the darkest stare. “I’m not going to say a word against Gemma, not for the sponsorship deals, not for the sake of my career, and certainly not for you.”
I think her stare was even darker than mine.
“Then it’s war, Jason Redfern, you dumb fucking shit. I’ll take you for everything you’ve fucking got, I fucking promise you that.”
***
Gemma
I kept away from the windows, counting my breaths. In for seven out for eleven. Don’t fucking lose it, Gemma Taylor, keep your fucking nerve.
I’d already switched the intercom off, turned my phone to silent and disabled my social media profiles. I’d amassed hundreds of messages, reams of venom in mere hours. A nightmare brought to life. My frantic parents on the phone, full of questions I could hardly bear to answer.
Yes, it’s true. Yes, I met Jason Redfern. And I liked him, I really liked him. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for all this.
And they’d sighed, and cursed Chelsea and said she’d always been the same. And then they’d told the journalists outside to get the fuck away from their house in no uncertain terms.
I’d fired off just one text before abandoning my phone. Chelsea.
Why? How could you??? I have no words!
I wondered if she felt guilty. Sobbing into her fucking cash, maybe. Lining up the topless shoots, no doubt.
Tessa was white as a sheet by the time she made it inside at the end of college. She stood with her mouth open, gathering her breath before grabbing me for a hug.
“Fucking hell, Gem. I didn’t think she’d stoop so low. Are you ok? It’s like a circus out there.”
And I cried, fuck how I cried, blowing out snot bubbles and past even caring. “How could she?