How Not To Be Starstruck. Portia MacIntosh

      ‘Ta-da,’ I say, handing her the poster along with a plectrum, a wristband and some stickers. ‘And here’s a few bits from the merch stand too.’

      Bless her, she looks so happy. It really bugs me that Eddie only gives attention to the girls he fancies. It’s girls like this who pay his wages, not the ones who are only here to try and sleep with him.

      I head back over to the bar where Kenny is sitting.

      ‘I saw what you did. You’re a real sweetheart, aren’t you, Nicole?’

      ‘Oh, I do try,’ I say with a laugh, just as Luke appears.

      I introduce them and Luke shakes Kenny’s hand. I’m surprised he isn’t doing more to soften up the guy who will be reviewing him for the entire city of Birmingham to read.

      Luke tells me that they’ve got to head back to the hotel for an interview, which I’m guessing is my cue to say goodbye to my new best friend and go with them.

      ‘Kenny, do you want to come and have a drink in the hotel bar?’ I ask. ‘I want to hear more of your stories, and if these guys are doing an interview I’ll only have to sit and watch.’

      ‘I’d love to,’ Kenny replies, clearly annoying Luke by doing so.

      ‘Right, well we’re going now so if you’re coming get a move on,’ Luke tells us, so we knock back the remainder of our drinks and follow his lead.

       Chapter Thirteen

      The Crack

      The hotel we are staying in is absolutely gorgeous. I couldn’t ever afford to stay in a place like this on my own, but that’s the beauty of being a hanger-on; someone else always foots the bill. I know that I’m lucky to stay in such beautiful places, which is probably why I don’t take any of it for granted, unlike most of the bands I know.

      Tonight we’re staying at the Hotel Regale. I’ve only just stepped through the door and I’m already in love with the place. Inside the lobby they have replaced one of the walls with a huge fish tank, which is absolutely mesmerising – even to an entirely sober person, I’d imagine. On the other side of the tank is the bar, which is where Kenny and I are heading. There’s no point in me going up to the room and hanging around in the background while they do their interview, I may as well be down here sucking Dutch courage through a sparkly straw.

      As soon as they’re done, Luke is going to call Reception and have someone let me know I can go up. I’m suddenly really nervous again, but trying to keep it out of my mind while I’m chatting to Kenny. We’re swapping stories about interviews and gigs. I know I have some great tales to tell (not that I ever would outside of the loop), but I am so jealous of some of his stories. Yes, we’ve only just met, but we’re already sharing a little too much information – this must be how rumours start, with journalists getting tipsy and exchanging stories.

      It isn’t long before a nice lady lets me know that ‘Mr Fox’ is waiting for me. It sounds so weird to hear Luke being referred to as Mr Fox, like he’s a proper adult.

      I say goodbye to my new friend and we swap details before I make my way to the lift. I hang back for a few minutes, spotting Mick the tour manager getting in the lift with a gang of giggly girls. No prizes what, or should I say who Eddie is doing tonight. I’m so glad I’m in with Luke because I am so not in the mood for a party with giggly fan-girls – and I’m allowed to say that because I used to be one, I know how annoying we are.

      The nerves finally hit me as I step out of the lift. Luke is standing outside the door waiting for me, and he must have had quite a bit to drink while they were doing their interview because he is wasted.

      ‘Shall we go in?’ he asks, fiddling with the keycard for the room. For some reason he can’t get the door to open.

      ‘Do you want me to do that?’ I ask.

      ‘I can do it,’ he snaps.

      I thought maybe he was just nervous too, but he looks terrible. His eyes are red and watery, and between attempts to get the door open he is rubbing his nose. If we were in the ‘real world’, I’d probably think he was coming down with a cold, but we’re not in the ‘real world’, are we?

      In a way, I am proud of myself, I’ve always been very anti-illegal drugs and there’s a huge amount of temptation in the biz. Well, I’ve never been tempted. Sadly, it looks like Luke has. I know a lot of bands are close friends of Mary Joanna (say it quickly), but I’m guessing Luke is on something much harder. So the rumours are true.

      Finally he gets the door open, laughing as he falls through the doorway, only just managing to stay upright. Kicking the door shut, Luke puts his hands on the wall either side of me. I can’t move and I’m being forced to look into his eyes. I’d imagined this moment being intense, but this just feels all wrong. Not only that, but he looks a mess – sexy doesn’t spring to mind at all.

      He starts kissing me but it doesn’t feel like it did earlier. Earlier was great, this is awful. I feel uncomfortable and his constant sniffling is making me feel kind of sick so I pull away.

      ‘Everything OK?’ asks the snotty-nosed man of my dreams.

      ‘Are you OK?’ I ask.

      ‘I’m fine, let’s just get on with it,’ he insists, sounding slightly annoyed that I stopped him.

      ‘Get on with it? You smooth-talker.’

      He ignores my sarcasm and starts kissing me again, pushing me onto the bed. After five minutes of awkward – and to be honest, slightly snotty – kisses, he rolls off me and sits on the edge of the bed, facing away from me. He seems frustrated and he’s swearing under his breath, banging his hands on the bed like some kind of mad man.

      ‘For fuck’s sake!’ he shouts to himself. To be honest, I’m a little bit scared.

      ‘I’ll be right back, just going to the bathroom,’ I tell him. I don’t wait for a reply before heading into the huge bathroom and locking the door behind me. I close the lid on the toilet and sit down. The bath looks so inviting, I’d love to have a long soak with lots of bubbles, pull on one of the fluffy bath robes, eat room service, watch TV and then fall asleep in the big, comfy bed – rock and roll. With a wasted Luke waiting for me in the big, comfy bed, I can forget about relaxing tonight though, and even though I would rather sit here until morning, I know that I have to go back out there. I’m not sure what has happened to the man I was pretty much in love with, but that isn’t him sitting in there waiting for me and that definitely wasn’t him throwing me around the room before. It’s only a matter of hours since we kissed in the dressing room, but now it’s like that perfect kiss never happened. His mood is all over the place, one minute he is the life of the party, the next he’s losing his temper.

      I check the time and realise I have been sitting in here for twenty minutes now. It’s time to face the music or, in this case, the musician.

      It turns out I have nothing to worry about. Luke is fast asleep, the wrong way across the bed, with his jeans and his boxers around his ankles. His mouth is wide open and even though his eyes are closed, they still look so sore. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so unattractive. A lesser woman than me would take a photograph – who am I kidding? If my phone battery wasn’t flat I’d probably snap a quick one, if only to remind myself that I never slept with a coke-head. That has to be the reason he’s acting like this, it makes too much sense not to be.

      I can see his chest moving so at least I know he’s breathing, but I still don’t fancy sleeping in here with him. I grab the spare keycard for the room next door. I might as well head to the party, drink this out of my mind and try and get some sleep in there.

      Opening the door to Eddie and Mark’s room (with ease, because I’m not high), I realise there isn’t a party going on because all is quiet. This room is much bigger than ours, and thinking I hear someone in the bedroom I