Generation Next (17 page)

“I suppose the more people we get to know out there the better,” I said. “It can't hurt to listen to what she's got to say.”

Austin agreed, and I sank back into the warm leather of the Jag's back seat, listening to AJ reel off the rest of the itinerary. For the next thirty minutes I sleepily watched the world whizz past me, wondering what would be in store for us when we got to LA, speculating how two young guys from Hertfordshire would cope in a situation
with real superstars in actual Hollywood, worrying about my mum's test results—although I tried not to dwell on that one for too long, as it scared the hell out of me—and yeah, you guessed it, thinking about Ella. What was she doing now? I wondered. Was she missing GenNext? Did she even know all this was happening? Was she thinking about me? And just how bloody far was it from Hollywood to Canada?

Wow! What wasn't there to like about Los Angeles? Everywhere I turned, I felt utterly dazzled. The glorious sunshine, the palm trees, the beachfront properties in Malibu, the crisscrossing freeways with four lines of traffic, and, of course, that iconic Hollywood sign, nestled up in the hills above. There was so much to take in, and when I looked over at Austin as we pulled into the underground parking lot of our hotel in West Hollywood, I knew he was feeling exactly the same.

That afternoon, AJ surprised the hell out of us when he announced that Harriet's management had rented us a car so we could do a spot of sightseeing before the party that evening—an actual Ferrari. As you can imagine, Austin and I didn't need telling twice, and before long we were bombing around LA, taking in the sights, cruising past the swanky shops on Rodeo Drive, stopping for “Double-Doubles” at In-N-Out Burger, and
then parking on Hollywood Boulevard so we could jump out and peruse the stars on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. I can tell you, sitting in that Ferrari in our Ray-Bans with the warm Californian wind in our faces felt totally incredible. If someone had told me six months ago that I'd be doing this during my summer holidays, there's no way I'd have believed them, and of course I couldn't resist taking a couple of pictures and uploading them to Instagram.

Just a couple of hours later we were walking into The Blind Dragon—the venue where Harriet Rushworth was throwing the launch party for her new single—and that was something else altogether. Austin and I strolled down a red carpet, roped off and lined with security guards who were holding back a growing crowd of eager fans, all dying to catch a glimpse or grab a photo of the star of the evening or one of their favorite celebs who might be in attendance. By the time I got inside, I had spots floating around in front of my eyes with all the camera flashes going off in my face, and Austin looked like he was about to faint. AJ was close behind us, and while Austin and I just stood in the foyer of the building, stunned and not quite knowing what to do next, he ushered us through quickly.

“Will we get to meet her today? Harriet, I mean,” Austin said breathlessly. “And will she even know who we are? Well, she might know who
you
are, Jack, because she'll have seen you on GenNext, but she won't know me,
will she, the guy behind the scenes? Will you introduce me, AJ? Will you make sure you do that, because I don't want to look an idiot, do I? And also I promised Miles I would, like, get a picture and something signed or . . .”

Austin was doing what he does best: talking. In fact he was positively babbling. I gave him a stern look as we left the foyer and entered the bustling main room.

“Austin, if you ask Harriet Rushworth, or anyone else, for an autograph, I am going to kill you, do you hear me? We need to look like we belong here, not act like fangirls.”

Austin looked to AJ for support but AJ shook his head.

“Not cool, Austin, not cool,” he said.

“Sorry, boys, I can get a little bit star-struck,” Austin said sheepishly. “It was the same when I met Ant and Dec after a charity footy match once—I could hardly speak.”

It was total chaos in the room, with more and more people swarming into the swanky bar area, which was fitted out with plush red furniture and oriental-style lanterns hanging down from the ceiling.

“It's not exactly exclusive, is it?” I said, referring to the sheer volume of people as the crowd swelled, but then I spotted a young woman in square geek-chic glasses waving energetically at me as she headed toward us. She was wearing a plain white T-shirt and faded jeans, so she was clearly staff and not one of the glammed-up party guests.

“Hey, guys, you're here!” she said in a chirpy American accent, shaking our hands vigorously. “I'm Millie, Harriet's PA—it's so great to meet y'all!”

Austin looked at me with a raised eyebrow and I tried not to smile. Why was everyone in America so bloody enthusiastic?

“You need to follow me and put these on.” Millie handed us silver plastic wristbands and set off through the crowd, her brown ponytail bobbing behind her.

We followed her to a smaller room off the main bar with a couple of security guards flanking its entrance. Millie held up her silver-banded wrist, and once we followed suit, they opened the doors into a softer, darker atmosphere.

“This is the VIP room,” Millie said. “It's completely crazy tonight, so just kick back and enjoy yourselves in here. We'll catch up on Saturday afternoon at the interview, then Harriet will have a chance to say a proper hello, OK?”

She gave us a wide smile and AJ thanked her while subtly preventing Austin, who was holding a five-dollar bill, from trying to tip her. When we ventured further inside, we found that this room was indeed a lot less manic than the main bar, but within seconds of sitting down at a table in the quietest corner there was already someone heading toward us, trying to get our attention. This time it was a heavy-set guy with dreads, wearing a quilted silver jacket and wrap-around sunglasses—despite the
fact that it was pretty dark in there—with what looked like diamonds on either side of them. Nice!

“Hey, guys, Justin asked if Jack would like to join him at his table over there,” he said. “And the rest of your party, of course, Jack.”

The guy turned and looked back across the room. I followed his eyes to the table in question and nearly choked.

“We don't know any Justin, thanks,” Austin smiled. “But tell him we said hi.”

The guy shrugged and walked away and I stared at Austin like he was an alien.

“What are you doing?” I said, in a ridiculously high-pitched voice.

“Look, you're bound to meet fans and followers, J, but we can't go mingling with everyone. You said it yourself, we need to be a bit elusive and look like we belong here.” Austin clearly felt like he was finally getting into the Hollywood show-business vibe.

AJ started to laugh. “Who do you think you are, Austin, Lady Bloody Gaga?”

“But . . . but . . . the Justin he was talking about was Justin Bieber,” I said, pointing over at the table. “Look! What is he going to think now we've blown him out?”

Austin wasn't listening, though. As soon as I mentioned the Bieber, his veneer of cool completely vanished and he was halfway across the room before I could take a breath or even finish the sentence. AJ and I got up and
followed, and by the time we reached the table where Justin and his entourage were hanging out, Austin was gushing about how we'd love to join them, what a big admirer of Justin's tats he was, and how he was dying to get seriously inked himself, just as soon as his mum gave him permission. Yeah, kill me now—that was what I was thinking. Justin didn't seem to care, though. He just smiled and invited us to sit down and join him and his friends, which of course we did.

The rest of that evening was like some kind of crazy hallucination. I mean, I was actually sitting chatting with one of the biggest pop stars in the world, who actually knew who I was and what we'd created, and what was more, he loved it—it was insane. About half an hour after we'd sat down, there was some kind of big commotion over at the entrance to the VIP room; the space lit up with camera flashes and a bright beam of light coming from the film crew who were backing into the room.

“It's Harriet,” Austin said, as half the room jumped out of their seats to get a better look.

For the next five minutes, I watched in awe as Harriet glided effortlessly around the room, smiling, chatting with guests, greeting friends and answering questions from the TV crews and journalists who clustered around her. She looked totally gorgeous in a short, strapless gold
dress decorated with tiny beads, and her distinctive mane of hair tumbled down over her shoulders like a red waterfall. In the midst of it all I could just about see Millie, her ponytail sporadically poking out of the crowd as she darted around, efficiently, making sure Harriet didn't get stuck with the same reporter for too long.

“She's kind of amazing, isn't she?” I said, glancing over at Austin, whose eyes were out on stalks, like a cartoon animal.

“She's coming over,” he said, elbowing me, and before I could open my mouth to answer, Harriet and half her entourage were upon us and once again I was temporarily blinded by the flash of half a dozen cameras.

Millie pushed through the photographers and took charge. “OK, guys, that's enough for now. Let's give Harriet some time to enjoy the party; there'll be more opportunities for questions and photos later.”

As the flashes subsided and Millie ushered the scrum of followers out of the VIP room, Harriet leaned across our table and blew a friendly kiss at Justin, rolling her eyes as if to say, “How crazy is all this, dude?” while he nodded in empathy. She looked down at Austin and me with a smile that could have lit the whole room and held her hand out to me—to be honest, I wasn't sure whether to shake it or kiss it, like she was royalty or something—but then she changed her mind and went in for a hug before pulling up a chair and sitting down next to me.

“Well you're just as good-looking in real life as you are on screen,” she said, still beaming. She touched my arm lightly. “Nice physique, too.”

“Oh . . . thanks.” I was more than slightly taken aback by her directness. “I'm trying to watch what I eat—not too much sugar, you know?” OK, I don't know why I said that. What was I, a bloody Victoria's Secret model?

Luckily, it made her laugh. “You wanna try wearing this dress for half an hour,” she said. “I've eaten nothing but lettuce for two days in preparation, but as soon as this launch party's over and done with, there's a tub of Ben and Jerry's Caramel Chew Chew with my name on it up in my mini-fridge.”

“Sweet,” Austin said, and Harriet spun around to face him.

“Sweet indeed,” she said, nodding approvingly. “You must be Austin; named after the city I was born in.”

“That's me,” Austin said, just as Millie returned, hovering over Harriet with a cocktail.

“They sure breed 'em sexy over in the UK, huh, Millie? Just look at you two,” Harriet said, leaning in toward Austin. “Are you boys, like, together? Because you would make a
really
cute couple.”

Austin looked horrified and I giggled. It was weird; I knew Harriet was just playing her part, being the perfect pop-star host, but there was something so warm and charismatic about her, and her upfront, flirty nature was funny as well as sexy.

Millie knelt down beside her boss with a slightly pained expression. “Harriet, I know you've only just sat down, but the guy from
Rolling Stone
has
finally
turned up and wants to say hello. If it were anyone else I'd tell him to take a hike, but we are doing the cover shoot next week, so . . .”

Harriet sighed and stood up. “Duty calls, boys, but it was lovely to meet you—short and sweet though it was—and I'm so looking forward to our live chat on Saturday. I'm real excited about being on GenNext.”

I stood up just as she did and she planted a soft kiss on my cheek.

“We're excited too,” I said, “and it was great to meet you. Enjoy your Ben and Jerry's.” I gave her a wink and she flashed one more amazing smile at me before disappearing into the crowd again.

After that, Austin and I were up and working the room like pros and it felt like everyone knew who we were and why we were there. I laughed, talked, listened and learned and I seriously couldn't remember a time when I'd ever felt so alive. It was
the
most fantastic buzz and I couldn't wait to show everyone what GenNext was really all about when we did the big interview in a couple of days' time.

By the time we got back to the hotel, I felt completely shattered. I'd heard about jet lag but had no real idea what it was, and what it did to your body . . . by then my body was telling me that it was 9 a.m. UK time and
I seriously needed to crash. The trouble was, once my head hit the pillow, my mind was crammed full of that evening's events and I still couldn't get off to sleep. In fact, right at that moment I felt so alive I thought I might never sleep again.