Rising Star (13 page)

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Authors: JS Taylor

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“For you,” he says. “I’m sorry, I didn’t have time to get a gift. Let me buy you a drink.”

George beams, her earlier discomfort forgotten. “Actually,” she confesses, “my parents have paid for the bar tonight.”

Deven
winks, “then maybe we’ll have to go elsewhere.”

Wow.
Is Deven flirting with George?

I notice Tammy shoot me a puzzled look, and I shrug.

I guess Deven has an agenda which doesn’t involve me anymore. The more I know of Deven, the more I think his every move is calculated to win the show.

For now, I’m just pleased the pressure is off me. But I can’t help but think less of him.
Deven seems to have some tactical agenda to his dating.

“And who are your gorgeous friends?” adds
Deven, turning his attention to Taggie and Alexa. They both virtually swoon on the spot. Tammy rolls her eyes.

George’s friends make their stammering introductions, and the conversation switches to shared friends and schools. It turns out, that
Deven had a similar background to George and her friends. And after a few more drinks, the group are getting along like a house on fire.

Tammy and I find ourselves, as usual, side-lined where George and her friends are concerned.

“What did you think of that shit with George?” whispers Tammy, as we down our third cocktail. We’re being more or less ignored now Deven has arrived, so no-one is paying attention to our conversation.

“I don’t know,” I say, “I didn’t realise she got a trust fund at twenty-one. I don’t think she’d leave though,” I add. “Not now we’re on Sing
-Win.”

I feel a flash of guilt, remembering what happened with Dez.

I was ready to leave the band too. But only to protect Tammy.

Tammy nods. “Sounds like we won’t see her for dust, if we get kicked off though,” she observes, eyeing George, who is tipping her head back in loud laughter at one of
Deven’s jokes. “She’ll ditch us for a rich husband.”

“Maybe that was just something she said to her friends,” I suggest hopefully.

“Yeah, maybe,” says Tammy, gulping her drink. “Maybe not.”

We’re silent for a moment, watching
Deven and George.

There’s definitely some serious flirting going on there.

Tammy takes my arm, and drags me further along the bar, so we can’t be overheard. No-one seems to notice.

“Do you think
Deven really likes George?” asks Tammy, watching him. “I thought he liked you?”

I notice
Deven’s eyes flick to me, and then he’s back flirting with George.

“I think he’s a snake,” hisses Tammy, looking at
Deven from our safe position at the bar. “Like everything he does is for a reason.”

Tammy takes a breath.

“Like, what happened to his dog?” she asks accusingly.

I think for a moment.

“Max,” urges Tammy. “Remember? The little pooch you saved from under a bus? Deven acted like he loved that dog. But Max isn’t in the Sing-Win house, is he? I’ll bet it was all staged. To make Deven seem more likeable.”

I consider this. I’d forgotten about
Deven’s dog. It’s true. Max has vanished. We’ve not seen hide nor hair of him.

“And I’ll bet he’s decided George will get him more publicity,” affirms Tammy.

“In many ways, they are a good match,” I point out. “George is good at the media stuff too.”

Tammy snorts.

“Yeah. They deserve each other,” she says, knocking back her drink. “This is strong,” she adds, staring accusingly in the glass. “Don’t let me have too many of these Summer. I’ll probably tell Deven exactly what I think of him.”

“He’d probably start filming you,” I say. We both laugh.

“Seriously though,” says Tammy. “Something’s going on with that boy. Believe me Summer. I’ve got a nose for this kind of thing.”

She eyes her empty drink.

“You’re too nice to be suspicious,” she continues. “But take it from me. Deven is up to something.”

“Do you think he could be involved in that note we found about vote rigging?” I ask.

Tammy considers this.

“I don’t know,” she says. “He seems t
oo clean cut to be involved in outright cheating. But I’ll bet he has some underhand tactic for scoring more votes.”

“Come on,” I say,
“we should go back over.”

“And stand around being ignored?”

“It’s George’s birthday,” I insist. “Come on.”

We’re making our way over when I see George’s face turn to thunder.

What the
…?

I follow her gaze, and my heart drops.

Oh no.

Tammy is a little drunk, and it takes her a second longer to catch on. Then she swivels and stares.

With her friends and Deven nearby, George is too ladylike to say anything. But Tammy has no such qualms.

“What the fuck?” Tammy announces loudly. “What are those bitches doing here?”

 

Chapter
20

 

Time seems to stand still for a moment. And then Scandelous strut into the room, flicking their long blonde hair, and generally acting like they own the place.

Behind them, is a full film crew.

Oh no. This is exactly what George didn’t want for her birthday!

George’s face has set to hard cold fury.

None of us have spoken to Scandelous since they set us up.

They nearly ruined our chances on the show, and needless to say, we’re all still angry with them. But so far we’ve managed to avoid the triplets pretty well. Considering we’re all under the same roof.

George’s gaze turns accusingly to Deven.

But
Deven only glances at the approaching triplets. Then he touches his hand to George’s arm, and leans in close as though he’s saying something intimate.

What the?

I see George’s face flicker and then smile. And when I turn back to the Scandelous girls, I see Keisha’s face is rigid with shock. Like she’s been slapped.

What the? Is something going on with
Deven and Keisha?

“Maybe you’re right,” I breathe to Tammy, and Scand
elous approach the other end of the bar. “Perhaps Deven does have an agenda.”

“What?” Tammy is decidedly tipsy now, and slow on the uptake.

“Look at Keisha’s face,” I say, indicating with my head. “That’s heartbreak if ever I saw it. I’ll bet Deven has something going on with Keisha. Now he’s cosying up to George.”

“You mean he’s set Keisha up?” breathes Tammy, “so she arrives with a film crew to see him flirting with George?”

“It looks that way,” I say grimly. Though it’s hard to imagine anyone would be so heartless. “How else could Scandelous have known about the party?”

Tammy looks silently between the two groups, and then nods.

“Man,” she says, after a long shocked second. “That is
cold
.”

Looking at Scand
elous, I can’t help but agree with her. Keisha looks really hurt.

“I actually feel a bit sorry for her,” I admit, watching as she struggles to maintain a fake smile, staring into her drink. The pain on her face is so obvious. And what’s worse, is the film crew know it too.

They’re mercilessly zooming in, soaking up every second.

“I don’t,” says Tammy. “That, Summer, is what you call karma. Keisha set us up to look bad on film. Now she’s getting it back.”

As if she knows we’re talking about her, Keisha’s heavily made-up eyes glance in our direction.

Tammy raises her cocktail glass in mock salute, and winks. Keisha looks away, furious.

“I can’t watch this,” I say. “I’m going outside for some fresh air.”

“I’ll come join you in a second,” says Tammy. “Just give me another minute to enjoy my revenge.”

 

Chapter
21

 

I step outside into a little secluded smoking area. Luckily it’s empty – I guess there aren’t so many smokers in Chelsea. The first thing I do is pull out my phone.

Adam
. For some reason I want to talk to him more than anyone.

This whole Sing
-Win business is really starting to get to me. I love singing. But this whole set-up drama? People getting filmed through heart break? I don’t want this. Not at all. And judging from Keisha’s face, she really liked Deven.

I take out my phone to see I already have five messages fr
om Adam.

I smile a little secret smile to myself as I read them.

They’re all variations on the same. That he misses me, and hopes I’m having a good time.

It occurs to me, I have a genuine excuse to get Adam to the party now. The Sing
-Win film crew has shown up unannounced. I’m guessing Adam could step in and make them leave. Surely George would prefer it, if Adam came down and saved the day?

I fiddle with my phone, smiling slightly.

Summer, you are totally addicted to this man.

I’m still debating whether this would be a good idea, when I hear a male voice at my shoulder.

“Hey Summer. Out here all alone?”

I start, and quickly blank my screen. But I don’t know if I was in time.

Deven is standing right behind me. I didn’t even notice him arrive.

“Hi,” I say coldly, making it clear what I think of him.

I may not like Keisha. But that is low.

Deven
pauses for a minute, his even features considering my face.

“Look,” he says. “I came to talk to you. I know you’re mad. Let me explain.”

“I’m not mad,” I say honestly. “I’m just… Disgusted I guess. How could you do that to Keisha? You can see from her face how hurt she is.”

Deven
raises his hands in defence.

“Is that what you think?” he says. “You’ve got me all wrong Summer.”

I glower at him.

“I don’t think I have,” I say. “Unless you’re telling me you didn’t set all this up, Flirting with George in front of Keisha. She obviously has feelings for you.”

Deven nods.

“I did do that,” he says, “but hear me out. My motives weren’t what you think. I hate what Scand
elous did to your band,” he says, his voice thick with sincerity.

He must have drunk quite a few cocktails, I realise. I can
smell strong spirits on his breath. And his eyes seem a little blurry.

“I wanted to reset the score,” he continues, “because. I like you Summer.”

What?

“You’re joking, right?” I am so shocked I can barely be angry with him. “You just spent the last hour flirting with George.”

“George is a big girl,” says Deven, “she knows how the publicity thing works. I’m sure she’d rather Scandelous got their comeuppance.”

“Well I wouldn’t” I retort. “I think the whole thing
’s just… Sick. I think it’s sick Deven. Making Keisha like you, then hurting her like that.”

Deven
’s face registers confusion.

“I thought you hated Keisha,” he says.

“Scandelous might have pissed me off,” I say, “but I don’t hate them.”

“I only did it for you,” says
Deven, his face taking on a puppy-dog quality.

I’m shaking my head, remembering what Tammy said. That
Deven can’t be trusted.

“I don’t think so,” I say. “I think everything you say has an agenda. You’re in this to win
Deven. And I think everything that comes out of your mouth has winning in mind.”

“Summer,” whispers
Deven. He leans close, and I suddenly realise, he’s angling to kiss me. I get another blast of strong liquor as his mouth zeros in on mine.

It’s so completely unexpected, it takes a moment to register.

Horrified, I push him away.

But instead of backing off,
Deven moves his hands to tighten on my shoulders.

“What are you doing?” I protest. “
Deven! You’re hurting me.”

“Listen Summer,” says
Deven, his voice cold now, “we’re the perfect match for this show. You’re my best shot at winning this show. So I’m not taking no for an answer.”

I stare back at him incredulously.

Surely he doesn’t think this is going to win me over?

“You don’t serious believe,” I stutter, “that I’ll date you so you can win the show.”

“Not any more,” says Deven. His grip on me is like iron. “I had hoped you’d be more cooperative. But being as you’re so stubborn, I might as well tell you.”

I writhe in his grip, but he’s strong. Not for the first time I curse my slight frame. I’m no match for
Deven. He’s got me held tight.

Deven
leans closer, and I try and twist my face away, but he has me pinned against the wall.

“In about ten seconds,” he says, “a film crew is going to come around that corner. They’ll catch us. Secret lovers. Can’t keep our hand
s off each other. Even though it’s not allowed.”

What?
Is he setting me up too?

Deven
smiles smugly, and I feel a burst of real hatred for him.


Deven, you’re drunk,” I say. “You’re not thinking clearly.”

“I’m thinking very clearly Summer. We’ve got this whole evening planned.”

“What do you mean, you’ve got it planned?”

“Me and the producers,” says
Deven patiently, as if talking to a child.

“You’re rigging the votes?” I accuse.

Deven looks confused. “I don’t need to rig the votes,” he says. “I’ve got a deal with the producers. I add drama. They give me better coverage.”

“But that’s…”

“Genius?” Deven smiles smugly. “I know. I’ve always had a gift for seeing the bigger picture. I understood immediately what the producers wanted. Drama. All I have to do is give it to them.”

He moves closer, and I writhe pointlessly under his strong grip.

“It’s a shame for you,” he murmurs, inches from my face. “Because the producers never wanted you past the first show. But don’t worry,” Deven strokes my chin as I struggle in his grip. “I’m happy to date you when you’re kicked off Sing-Win. You’ll need the publicity.”

What the? I can’t believe
Deven could be so calculating. Tammy was right. He is a total snake.

“The film crew won’t see anything but you pinning me against a wall,” I spit back at him. “That won’t help your reputation.”

“They’ll see what they want to see,” replies Deven. “I told you. It’s all arranged. Haven’t you heard of the power of editing?”

He moves to fix me more tightly. Despite his obvious drunkenness his grip is like iron.

“I’ll tell the press everything,” I threaten.

Deven
smirks. “And risk your whole band? I don’t think you’ll do that Summer. If you try and make out I forced you, no-one will believe you. All you’ll do is confirm that She’s All That are a bunch of attention-seeking harpies. And you’re already skirting the line on that issue.”

He’s right
. I think miserably.
Plenty of people still think we started a fight with Scandelous. But I’m not going to give him the pleasure of seeing I know that.

Deven
manoeuvres himself in front of me, and I realise what he’s doing.

If the film crew come out now, they won’t see my horrified expression. Just
Deven’s back.

Fuck.
This could look bad…

It suddenly flashes through my brain, that Adam will see the footage.

“Please Deven,” I say, trying for a last ditch attempt to appeal to his decency. “This isn’t right.”

But
Deven’s face suggests he hasn’t even heard me. Instead his head is tilted slightly, listening for the arrival of the film crew.

With a sinking stomach I hear the door to the smoking area open. And I prepare for the bright film light to land on us.

But it never comes. Instead a familiar voice echoes out into the small courtyard.

“I suggest you unhand the lady.”

The strong voice rings out in the small outdoor space.

What the?

Before I know what’s happening, there’s a large hand on Deven’s shoulder. And he goes flying against the opposite wall.

Now that
Deven’s not blocking my view, the face of my rescuer comes into full view.

Adam.
Relief floods through me.

Deven
is sprawled against the far wall, blinking like he doesn’t know what hit him.

“Would you mind telling me,” Adam says to
Deven, his voice dangerously low, “What you were doing?”

“I… Summer and I came out here for some alone time,” stammers
Deven.

“That is bullshit!” I shout.

Adam strokes the dark stubble on his jaw. In the partial light, his dark hair and strong features cast deep shadows on his face.

“It didn’t look to me,” says Adam, “as though Summer w
as really enjoying you pinning her against the wall.”

His eyes flash dangerously.

“It’s all part of the show,” says Deven, rubbing his arm. “The crew will be out here any minute to film us.” He says this as though he expects Adam to back down. But Adam only lowers his dark eyebrows.

Deven
is tall, but his physique seems almost childlike, next to Adam, and he’s cowering now.

Adam is a thick pillar of muscle, his tattooed biceps barely restrained by his T-shirt, and his broad chest an impenetrable wall. The rage boiling off him seems to double his physical presence. As though he’s taking up all of the small area.

“I spoke to the film crew,” says Adam, and his voice is deadly. “They told me about your little arrangement.”

Adam’s long fingers stroke along his stubbled jaw.

“What no-one considered,” he continues, “is that Summer isn’t a little doll to be passed around.”

Deven
begins shaking his head frantically, as if pleased to be given a way to explain himself.

“Of course not,” he mumbles quickly. “I’m sorry Summer. You’re totally right. I should have… Asked you.”

“You shouldn’t have been setting things up for the cameras at all,” I reply, outraged. “What you’re trying to do Deven. It’s disgusting. You should win by your own merit, or not at all.”

“That’s certainly what you’ll be doing from now on,” says Adam. “From this weekend,
I
own the show. And there’ll be no sordid deals with Martin and the production crew.”

This remark acts like a sucker
-punch to Deven. You can almost see him mentally calculating how to align his new loyalties.

Adam eyes
Deven carefully. There’s a long moment where I think he’s planning to punch him. Then Adam takes out a cigarette and lights it slowly.

“Consider this your one and only warning,” he says, inhaling deeply. “When I run the show, I’ll make sure you’re never anywhere near Summer. If you bother her again, well…” Adam inhales, and blows out a cloud of smoke. “I won’t be held responsible for my actions,” he concludes.

“Of course,” stammers Deven.

“Now get back inside,” says Adam, “And take those Scandelous girls away with you,” he adds as an afterthought. “I hardly think George wants them at her birthday.”

Deven heads back inside as fast as his legs will carry him, leaving Adam and I alone outside.

Adam takes another drag of his cigarette and grins at me.

“Hello baby,” he says.

My heart melts.

“Could you stop rescuing me like this?” I ask, struggling to maintain my dignity. “This is the twenty-first century you know. I like to think I have some control over my own life.”

Adam laughs.

“You do,” he says. “I just step in where needed.”

“Well,” I admit, “I’m glad you did.”

He flicks his cigarette to the floor, grinds it out beneath his boot, and steps towards me, taking me in his arms.

His face is close to mine, and I find myself drinking in the smell of him.

“You,” he says in a low voice, “are absolutely worth rescuing.” He plants a soft slow kiss on my lips, making my body tingle.

“In fact,” he says, between lazy kisses, “I’d rescue you every day, just to kiss this mouth.”

Mmmmmmm.

I feel myself moving into the kiss.

“Let’s hope you don’t have to,” I mutter hazily, as my soul opens into his warm lips.

We stand for a moment, lost in one another, and then Adam gently pulls away.

“Come on,” he says. “We’d better get back to your friend’s birthday.”

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