“How is Flavia getting on? I heard her on the radio the other day. It’s so cool her album went to number one so quickly.”
I nodded, still amazed at the success of the album myself. We’d worked so hard together in the studio to meet the deadline. She’d gone on to market and promote the new album. To say I was proud of Flavia was an understatement. “Yep, she’s thrilled. She’s doing so much better, and I think she’s seeing someone new. I’m so happy for her.”
“That’s great news. How are your other artists doing?”
“Good. Lots of them are trying new things and making some great stuff. Taylor Dixon got nominated for a Grammy.”
“Wow, that’s great too.”
“Yeah.” I gave Lily a small smile.
“You seem a little deflated talking about it.”
“Do I?”
“Do you think you could be feeling burnt out? Would a break help?”
“I don’t think it’s burnout.” I was quiet for a few moments while I searched myself for what was really going on. “Since working with Flavia something has shifted. I don’t know if it’s enough for me anymore to only produce other people. I feel like I have my own things to say, but I don’t know what to make of this feeling. It’s the oppositeof what I do as a producer. My job is to bring out the best in the people I work with and not to use my own voice.”
“Hmmm.” Lily looked deep in thought.
Her phone beeped and we both started.
“Who is it?” I asked.
“Freya. She’s asking about arrangements for my next guest.” Lily began typing on her phone, her face set in concentration.
The sandwiches were untouched. I had mine so as not to be rude, but I wasn’t hungry. Lily had hers in between texting on her phone. She was always on her phone these days. And she was still drinking every day. Just one or two beers, but it was enough to irritate me. Still, relationships took compromise and she was going through a lot with her podcast and being out there so visible in the world. Lily just relaxed in the evening with a drink or two every night. It wasn’t that bad, right?
“I have to get down to the studio.” Lily put her phone in her pocket.
Now that she’d been approached by a proper production company and had moved to recording it on video and putting it out there on YouTube as well, Lily was gone longer and seemed to always be out. The new studio was an hour’s commute across London, at least. On the plus side, Lily was full of passion, energy and creativity. She was happy. And that made me happy. I just had to manage my feelings of not seeing her as much and how anxious this made me.
“Have fun.”
“What are you going to do this afternoon?”
All I wanted to do was lie on the sofa and rot, but I had a strong suspicion that Lily didn’t like it when I did that. We were different that way. Lily preferred action and being outthere in the world. Often, I preferred my own company and sitting quietly with my thoughts, especially if I was coming up to my period. I needed down time to process my emotions and let ideas for lyrics come to me. Lily usually wanted to go for a long walk or out to lunch. It all involved going outside more often than I was used to. I liked a good hike or a run, but not all the time. Lily would take me hiking up mountains every weekend if we lived near any. I was sure of it.
It would do me good to get out today, though, as I’d been focusing too intensely on Lily and neglecting pretty much every other part of my life these days. It was bad. I cleared my throat. “I might meet up with Vicky and Mathilde later.”
“Nice. Tell them I said hi.”
“Will do.”
After Lily left, I ate half a box of chocolates and messaged Vicky to confirm our meet up. I hadn’t seen her or anyone for a while. I’d been spending all my time with Lily, in Lily’s house mostly, and supporting Lily with her podcast. We talked and talked about her guests, who to invite on, and the books she had to read to prepare for the interviews. I read them all too, of course. Often with Lily or we would take turns reading them to each other. We were both learning so much. Lily was like a sponge. She loved learning and she picked things up quickly.
Getting ready to go out had taken on a whole new meaning. I had to be mindful of possibly getting photographed. Since I’d gone with Lily to the football awards, the attention on us had skyrocketed. Pictures of us at the event had circulated all over the internet and social media. Lily in her suit, me in that dress holding hands as we walked into the venue. Since then, the pictures kept appearing. There was even a picture of us coming out of thegym together. I wasn’t looking my best with a bright red face and hair matted with sweat. Lily looked great, of course, albeit in a very private moment which shouldn’t have been made public.
I held up an oversized jumper across my body, looking at my reflection in the mirror. It was perfect. I could hide in this.
Lily was able to handle the attention better than I was. Sometimes it seemed like she courted it. She did the interview with Ruby and that had sparked a fresh wave of interest, too. I hadn’t reached out to Ruby about helping us navigate the attention. My approach had been to speak directly with Lily about it.
“I’m so sorry, my love,” she’d said. “It’s understandable that you don’t like it. I try to give them just enough to contain them and keep them at bay. To control the narrative. But I’ll do my best to minimise it from now on. We’ll keep to ourselves. We’re private people.”
I knew Lily meant this but how much control did anyone have over unwanted media attention? It wasn’t the lifestyle I particularly wanted. I hadn’t realised the level of fame that followed Lily around. But I was willing to put up with it. I had to, because it was part of the package of being with Lily.
Lily had stayed true to her word. She did everything to protect me and keep our relationship private. Things like not answering questions about us, calling ahead to fancy restaurants to ask to come in the back doors, and not posting anything without my consent. In fact, Lily had made a point to let me know that any pictures she took of me, and us, were automatically private, just for us, unless she otherwise asked if she could post it.
