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“If you were my boyfriend, I’d be delighted to have you ring me in the middle of the night.”
“Also…” God. How much of an idiot was I? “Matt mentioned phone sex. I don’t even know what that means.”
Yeah. Good work, Conny. I was way in over my head here, and Ollie wasn’t even trying to contain his laughter.
“I’m going to hang up on you now. Unwittingly hilarious as you are, you need to ring Matt. Right now. And you need to tell him all this crap because these are thingsheneeds to hear, not me. I’m not going to sit here and teach you how to have phone sex. Mate. Seriously. Have some boundaries.”
I almost threw that back in his face. Instead, I said, “OK.” Quietly. And then I stared at my phone because Ollie had actually hung up on me.
My phone rang again, but I ignored it and sat up in bed, looking around the room. I smelled really bad, and I was starving. I was also due on set in an hour. My voicemail kicked in. Then my phone rang again. With a sigh, I answered it.
“Lucia.” I tried to sound composed.
“I need you in London next Saturday. Event, with Tara.”
“Absolutely not.” I never said no, but…no. I was too bloody tired.
“Connor, stop it.”
“No. Tara and I are over. Work commitments or whatever crap you want to throw at me—no. Just stop. I’m doing Pride on the Saturday. I’ll be on theWhite Noisefloat. I’ve never done it before, but even Caroline is doing it this year. I want in on that. No bloody events.”
“You know how this works, darling.” Lucia was doing her pleading voice. I knew her far too well.
“I do, and I’ve had enough.” I was not backing down.
“You sure you want to pull the contract?” She wasn’t as stern as I’d expected her to be. “It’s been very successful for both your brands.”
The whine that came out of my mouth was ridiculous, but so was all this.
“I’m out, and I have a boyfriend. It’s not like it’s some big secret. I don’t care anymore. I just want this circus to stop for a bit. I need some time off. I need to just bloody breathe.”
“I know this shoot has been difficult for you, and there’s been a lot of chatter in the background with regards to the future ofWhite Noise. I’m sure you’ve heard.”
“Heard what?” I asked, but I had heard. Caroline wanted out, and I didn’t blame her. The crew was pissed off. Even Hamish had started to grumble and was being difficult to reach, while I was holed up in bed, letting the stress get to me.
“They’re planning season seven,” she said quietly. “With a new cast.”
“Yeah, no surprise there.” My heart hurt. Just a little. It was a shock hearing it from Lucia because if she’d already had word, then it was probably true.
“Which is why I need to do Pride,” I insisted. It had nothing to do with this. And everything to do with being sick and tired of not being real. Of being an actor. Of being so freaking scripted. I wanted to be out there and be honest and just live. With Matt. I had a whole crew who did the bloody Pride parade. The grip team. The second camera man. The girl who worked as our best boy. The scriptwriters. A bunch of extras. The bloody fake nurse who had stood on the top of the float last year, waving a flag. I remembered seeing it on Twitter and wishing I’d been there. We were well known for our Pride appearances…well, apart from me. I’d never done it. I couldn’t even defend my absence. I suppose I’d never felt part of it. But I did now.
“Why Pride? You’ve just never mentioned it before.” Lucia sounded genuinely confused.
“I know,” I agreed. I wasn’t sure why I’d brought it up. Another whim? No. This was no bloody whim.
“I’m bisexual, Lucia. Always have been. And I’m in love with a gorgeous guy called Matt, and he’s the only thing I have in this pathetic existence of mine that’s real. So, stick me on that Pride float and I’ll come to London. Also, no more Tara. She’s a lovely girl, but please just make it stop.”
“Done,” she said.
I hung up on her, like the diva I was.
I barely took a breath, already dialling out.
Matt picked up on the first ring.
“Hello, stranger,” he said, but he was smiling. I could hear it in his voice.
“Hey, boyfriend,” I said back cheerily. Then I hated myself for it. “I love you. I’m sorry I’m rubbish at being your boyfriend, but I do mean it.”
