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Tegan ranted to me afterwards about being treated like a child; but the media barrage started, and we realised what a spectacular fuck up we'd made.
The attempts at digging dirt on Tegan have failed, but that doesn't matter to die-hard Jax Lewis fans who rip Tegan apart anyway. As far as they're concerned, she shouldn't get her hands on me. I asked Riley who the hell the fans think I should be with and received a curt 'nobody'. Perfect, I have a fan base of fucking psychos.
Two days of intense scrutiny, of being frightened to set foot outside of the confines of the tour hotels and airports, our life is curtailed. Tegan's plans to visit as many European capitals as she can have halted, and she's pissed off. Big time. We're in Berlin and stuck indoors.
“Jax, we told you weeks ago, we're supposed to deal with all media exposure to stop stupid ass mistakes like this. You have no idea how to handle this kind of thing,” says Riley.
I scowl at her usual superior tone, biting back the desire to make a comment about Nate. How can he be interested in this uptight chick who dresses like she's ten years older than she is? Look at her — business suit and neat blue blouse to match her sensible shoes and middle-aged attitude. Straight-laced and boring. I asked Nate what his game was with Riley, but he shrugged the incident off as a mistake. Who for — him or Riley?
“It was my idea. I told you that before,” puts in Tegan.
“Jax attacking his fans on Twitter over this has inflamed the situation,” replies Tina. “Again, stupid idea.”
“They're fucking trolls, not fans. Tegan's already had to disable her Twitter and Instagram.”
“And shut down my blog.” Tegan drags a hand through her hair. “This is a nightmare.”
I squeeze her hand. Whenever she's upset about the situation, my fear over what happens next sneaks in. Will Tegan change her mind and leave? I don't mean I'm worried she'll leave me, but what if she quits the tour? If Tegan goes, I don't know what will happen, because I don't know what I'll get up to when she's not around. Especially with a few beers inside me.
“You have to agree to let us take over all media contact now — social or otherwise,” says Tina.
I huff. “Fine. If you do, will this go away soon?”
Riley scoffs. “You're in this for the long-term, Jax.” She flicks a look between Tegan and me. “I hope he's worth all the crap, Tegan.”
Why is Riley such a bitch? What did I do to her? Yeah, I came onto her — one time only — when I was wasted, but I didn't touch her once she made it clear I should back off. Sometimes, personalities clash. She doesn't like rock star arseholes and I don't like stuck up chicks.
She'd better not get into Tegan's ear about me because Riley has stories I'd rather Tegan didn't know.
“What's the plan?” I ask.
Tina opens her iPad and scrolls down the screen. “We're putting something together. Maybe we'll push you back into public on your own, but mostly keep Tegan out of the spotlight. You have to show you can love your fans and her.”
Love her?
“Which means no ducking out of tonight,” comments Riley.
“Tonight? I'm performing.”
“The backstage VIP winners?” asks Riley. “Remember? I bet they're hanging out to meet you.”
“Shit.” I rub my head. “I never wanted to do the meet and greet thing.”
“You love girls all over you!” says Riley.
I flash Riley a look. “Jem told me it's usually tweens and their mums. Hardly somebody I'm likely to hit on.” Tegan shifts and puts down her drink and I tighten my grip on her hand. “Not that I would anyway. Not now.”
Tina sighs. “Really, we could've done with you being on the market, Jax.”
“On the market? Like a piece of meat?” I retort.
Tina gives a small shake of her head and returns to note taking.
“Well, the break up could be timed with the album release in a few months, a bit of media exposure will help sales,” says Riley with a smirk. “Reckon you could last that long?”
Tegan sits forward and fixes an unimpressed look on Riley. “What's your problem?”
I watch with interest, at Tegan finally picking up on Riley's downright bitchiness around me. Tina looks at her too, a small crease on her brow. “Not appropriate, Riley.”
