to laugh. Everywhere I look I can see bright, exhilarated expressions—except on him.
As I’m glancing around, I notice that a few visitors are holding Genevieve’s book. Oh God, she’s probably here already, isn’t she? We’ll probably bump into her any minute.
“Matt.” I tug at his arm so he stops walking. “I need some answers. What was that outside? Those girls.”
“Oh,” says Matt, after a pause. “That.”
“Yes, that! Why were they talking about you and Genevieve breaking up? How did they even know about you?”
“OK,” says Matt reluctantly. “Well, a few superfans are interested in the company. The history. The family. All that. They can’t get enough of it. And they became…Well.” He hesitates. “Invested in Genevieve and me. As a couple.”
“Invested? Because, what, they saw you on social media?”
“I guess,” he says, looking slightly tortured. “They followed us, they chatted on the forums….For some people this is their major hobby. They dig in deep. I mean, it was Genevieve’s thing more than mine,” he adds, just as his phone rings. “Hey, Dad. Yes, just got here.”
As Matt chats with his dad, I whip out my phone and do a quick, very specific google: Matt Genevieve gossip breakup Harriet’s House.
I’ve googled Matt before (several times). But I obviously wasn’t using the right search terms, because I never happened upon this stuff. There’s a whole forum called “Harriet’s House gossip.” I stare at it in disbelief, then click on an old thread entitled Genevieve and Matt…where are they at?
At once I’m greeted by online howls of despair.
WHY DID THEY BREAK UP?????
I know. They were so cute!!!
The cutest EVER couple.
Who broke up, Matt or Genevieve?
Matt’s gay, it’s all a big cover-up, my bf works there and told me.
Who’s going to the new Harriet Reveal Manchester event? Because I feel like boycotting right now? Just sad.
I guess it’s their business?
It’s our business too. I follow Genevieve.
I blink at the screeds of chat, then hastily click off. My head is whirling. I don’t even know how to process this. Matt finishes his call and says to me, “OK, let’s go to the Green Room.” Then he looks at me again. “Ava? What’s up?”
“Oh, nothing!” I say, trying to stay calm. “I’m only wondering, Matt, why you didn’t tell me that a whole bunch of people were apparently devastated when you and Genevieve broke up?”
“Right.” Matt looks evasive.
“Apparently you were the ‘cutest ever couple’?”
“Ava, don’t look at those gossip pages,” says Matt, sighing. “It’s just online rubbish in a tiny niche world. A few obsessive fans thought they owned us—oh, hey, Genevieve.” His face tightens into a dreadful fake smile. “Good to see you.”
Shit. She’s here?
I wheel round to see a vision in pink, with clouds of blond blow-dried hair, accompanied by two guys in jeans with headsets. I recognize her from the book, but she’s even prettier in real life. She looks phenomenal, I have to give her that, all petite in her perfectly fitting pink trouser suit and sky-high fuchsia heels.
“You must be Ava!” she exclaims, as though meeting me is the high point of her life. “So good you could come!”
“You too,” I say feebly as we shake hands, and her face squashes up in mirth as though I’ve said something hilarious.
“They couldn’t really stage the event without me, could they? Of course I will,” she adds charmingly to a hovering little girl in a Harriet’s House hoodie. “Just an autograph or would you like a selfie?” She poses immaculately with the awestruck child, then turns to Matt and says, “Let’s hit the Green Room.”
“Genevieve!” calls out a nearby girl. “Can I have a selfie?”
“Sorry, guys,” says Genevieve regretfully. “Be back soon!”
As the two men in jeans silently accompany us through the crowds, I realize they’re some sort of security. Genevieve is wearing a headset, too, I notice, and ducking her head as she walks along like some sort of A-lister. Meanwhile, every thirty seconds some nearby fan calls out, “Genevieve!” or tries to grab her. She’s like the Beyoncé of Harriet’s House. I don’t know whether to laugh or be impressed.
The Green Room is a separate area from the conference hall, with sofas and a snack table, and it’s stuffed full of people in suits. I recognize Matt’s parents and Walter, talking intently on the far side of the room, but all the others are new to me. I guess they’re all Harriet’s House corporate types. Matt instantly gets swallowed up into a conversation and everyone greets Genevieve