Wicked Ambition. Victoria Fox

slow down!’ Kristin embraced her. ‘That’s amazing, I’m so proud.’

      ‘It was me and Tracy-Ann in the final,’ Bunny rattled on. She smelled of perfume and the drench of hairspray clamping her style into place, and her skin was clammy with Bronze Baby fake bake. ‘Mom thought it was over when my wig fell off and I cried but she made me go back on and then Tracy-Ann fell over and that’s when Mom said she knew we’d won!’

      On cue Ramona White emerged from the mansion, consummate mother and manager, stepping into the sunlight in her sharply tailored suit and enormous Prada shades. Her silhouette was twig-thin and her hair was pulled back in a savagely tight chignon.

      ‘Congratulations,’ said Kristin flatly.

      ‘Shouldn’t you be writing?’

      ‘Day off.’

      ‘Is Scotty here?’

      Bunny suffered a chronic blush and Kristin stifled a laugh. She found her sister’s infatuation funny. Scotty had been part of the family for years. Ever since The Happy Hippo Club days he’d come round for dinner when Ramona was out, making the sisters laugh over pasta with his goofy impressions, or ride his bike over on a Sunday to watch TV and eat popcorn, or bake cookies with Bunny at Thanksgiving, or pumpkin pie at Halloween. When he’d become Kristin’s boyfriend her sister had nearly fainted.

      ‘He left.’

      ‘Why?’ Ramona enquired. ‘Did you fight?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘You’ve got to keep a man happy, Kristin. Otherwise they’ll walk.’

       Like Dad did?

      ‘Bunny, get upstairs,’ their mother directed, ‘and start scrubbing that make-up off.’

      ‘Can’t I wear it a bit longer?’

      Ramona slid her daughter a look. Bunny retreated without another word.

      ‘She gets to take a break now, right?’ Kristin asked.

      Her mother lit a cigarette, scissoring her way to a lounger, where she elegantly collapsed, drawing sharply on it. ‘Do you think I get a break?’ she retorted. Ramona’s cat Betsy, a white fluffball with one of those squidged-up expressions that looks like it’s been hit in the face by a sledgehammer, leapt on to her mistress’s lap and licked its lips.

      ‘HAIRS!’ Ramona cried, outraged. Immediately the cat was tossed to the ground. ‘Betsy needs a trip to the beautician; this moulting’s going to be the death of me!’

      ‘Bunny’s a kid,’ Kristin persisted, as the white fluffball shot through the patio doors.

      ‘And so were you when you started on your journey.’

      Kristin disliked how Ramona made out as if it were her journey, as if Kristin hadn’t had it shoved on her as the only way of life available. Some days she grudgingly admired her mother’s resolve: yes, they’d come from little, and now, thanks to her child star exploding, had more wealth than they knew what to do with. Most, she hated how she had never been allowed to grow into her own person before being told who she was expected to be. Their mother’s ambition was ruthless. She would stop at nothing to see her two girls succeed.

      ‘This is good for Bunny,’ pronounced Ramona in her don’t-you-dare-argue-with-me tone. ‘It’s character building. She’s got to get used to the pace.’

      ‘What if she doesn’t want to?’

      The shades came down a fraction. A pair of glinting grey eyes narrowed over the top.

      ‘Why wouldn’t she?’

      ‘I don’t know. She might want to try something else? Being a teacher, say, or a vet?’

      Ramona snorted, as though those professions were so far beneath her that she could scarcely deign to look; professions that actually mattered, because while Kristin’s music was enjoyed by many it didn’t contribute to the world, not in any practical way.

      ‘What my daughter wants is to be famous.’ Ramona slipped the shades back into place. ‘You heard her. She wants to be exactly like you.’

      ‘Wrong. That’s what you want.’

      ‘You’re giving me a migraine, Kristin. Haven’t you got an album to write?’

      She didn’t need to be told twice. Storming indoors, Kristin struggled to control her temper. No one made her angry like her mom did.

      She flipped open her cell. She longed to call Scotty; he’d make her feel better. But something told her no. After today, if Scotty needed space then that was what she would give him. She would give him anything, because without him she was lost.

      Bunny White’s bedroom walls were plastered with posters of Fraternity.

      Her infatuation covered every scrap. Fraternity pouting sincerely to camera; Fraternity leaping into the air, their matching grins sparkling like islands in the sun; Fraternity with their arms slung round each other’s shoulders; Fraternity in black and white with their tops off. Like every girl Bunny’s age the five-piece was the apex of teenage idolatry. They were cute, they were funny; they sang about love and cuddling and kittens and birthdays. Bunny adored them with every ounce of devotion her little heart could carry.

      Scotty Valentine was her favourite. She could never tell Kristin how much it stung when she saw them together, and though she had tried not to care—really she had—she just couldn’t help it. Naively she had imagined that Scotty would one day turn into her boyfriend. He might have started out like a big brother but over the years her hazy worship had blossomed into a killer crush that was picking her apart day by day. Age gaps didn’t matter so much the older you got, and in a few years he might have started seeing her in a new way.

      All her life Scotty had been there, perpetually out of reach, exotic and elusive, the boy against which all others were measured and could never hope to compare.

      She pretended that Joey was her number one. Joey was the cute, mischievous member of the group, and she would say yes if Joey asked her on a date, like, obviously she would. But Scotty, with his perfect smile and dreamy eyes, was her ultimate. When she was alone she fantasised about Kristin being out when he came to the mansion, like he had in the olden days, and how they might hang like they’d used to, and he would remember what a cool girl she was and how grown-up she was now and then maybe when he left he’d lean in and…

      Bunny had never kissed a boy before. The very thought of touching Scotty was enough to drive her crazy with cloudy, indistinct longing. It made her blood race and her head feel like it was about to explode. Would she ever experience it for herself?

      She settled at her Pretty Princess table and began removing the grips that held her wig in place. Her mom had secured them viciously, jamming each one into her hairline till it made her scalp throb. Before long, if she kept on winning trophies, she would be just as rich and pretty as her sister and boys like Scotty would start to notice.

      Her best picture of Scotty was a close-up headshot. It wasn’t very big and she kept it in her coral beauty drawer, right at the back where no one would see it. Bunny reached in now and extracted it, tracing her finger around his jaw and pressing the image to her face so she could kiss it. Scotty smiled back at her, a glint of promise in his twinkling blue eyes. He was at the beach in the photo and you could tell he was shirtless, even though it was severed at the neck. His collarbone was deeply tanned with the lightest smattering of freckles.

      Bunny kissed the image one more time before replacing it. She could hear her mom and sister arguing downstairs and wished Scotty would come and take her away. Humming Fraternity’s number one smash ‘I Dig U’, she imagined him scooping her up in his strong arms and driving her off into the sunset. Maybe he’d come on a horse and where they would end up or what they would do she wasn’t entirely sure. All she knew was that she wanted Scotty Valentine. She wanted him so badly it hurt.

      Soon