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“I’m so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen.” She nuzzled Morgan into her neck. “I should have been more—”
“We’re both adults. Why shouldn’t we be allowed to have this?”
“Because that’s the transaction to fame and fortune. You can have it all, but they want your soul in return. They want every aspect of your private life. Francine is right, the wrong headline changes everything.”
Mack returned and nodded once. “All clear. Have a good night.”
“I’m surprised I’m not being requested to let him sleep in our bed with us,” Alex moaned, pushing the door open and entering the suite.
Morgan stepped across the room to the bar and took two glasses out of the small cabinet. “It’s unfair. We haven’t done anything wrong.” She bent down to the fridge and found the ice box, using silver tongs to drop one large ball of perfectly clear ice into each glass. She twisted around to face Alex. “What are the headlines going to say anyway, Sasha is happy?” she mocked before returning to the drinks. She poured a good glug of scotch into both glasses. “I mean, who is interested in this stuff anyway?”
Alex remained silent, letting her rant it out. When Morgan handed her the glass, she took it with an understanding smile, swirling the amber liquid around the ice before taking a swig and letting it burn its way down her throat. This wasn’t the night she had planned, she thought as she sat down on the couch and patted the seat beside her.
“Morgan, sit down.”
Huffing, Morgan did as she was asked and took the seat beside Alex, and after a second or two, she fell into her side and clung to her.
“You can drive yourself crazy trying to understand why, but you’ll never work it out, not really. Acceptance is the only way you can really move ahead with things.” Alex took another swig of the drink. “They’re going to write about us whether we want them to or not. And this is why I was against doing this in the first place, the whole pretending business. It was naïve of Francine to think that you could just appear in the background and not be subjected to any questions. And I should have been braver and accepted that they will write what they want about me, about the band, the crash.”
Morgan remained silent, the darkened room closing in around them both.
Morgan twisted and pulled her feet up and under herself, eventually saying, “What do you think they will write?”
Alex shrugged. “It’s hard to say. I don’t think it will be anything too bad, if anything. But I guess they’ll probably mention how you’re younger than me.” She smirked. “They like me. I’ve mostly played the game and given them interviews when required to. And there’s nothing about you that should give them anything to grab onto other than the fact that you’re the woman in my bed.”
“I need to speak to my mum,” Morgan answered quietly.
“Yes, first thing, but right now it’s almost one in the morning and we need to get some sleep before travelling to York tomorrow.”
“Kind of spoiled our night, hasn’t it?” Morgan said, sitting up. Sadness had settled in her eyes.
“Nothing can ruin this. Being with you is… I haven’t felt this sense of calmness in a very long time. I came off stage feeling euphoric for a very different reason.”
“Really?”
“Yes, knowing you were there. I felt euphoric about you.”
Morgan’s head tilted to one side as she considered that. “I think that might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
Leaning forward, Alex placed the glass in her hand onto the table, stood up and reached her hand out to Morgan. “Well, that is absolutely not good enough.”
Morgan smiled. “I know.” She took the hand and let herself be pulled to her feet. “But I wouldn’t change it.” She looked away quickly.
“What’s wrong?”
Morgan turned back to her. “Nothing, I just…what Francine said, about organising your playmates, what did that mean?”
“Hm, you heard that.” She tried to smile. “The thing is sometimes it’s just been easier I suppose to…arrange for…” She ran a hand through her hair and pulled out the hair band. “I don’t always have a girlfriend to—”
“You pay for it?” Morgan asked gently.
Alex nodded. “Francine organises it for me with a reputable escort service.”
“Okay.”
“It’s not my finest hour.”
Morgan shrugged. “It’s fine. Probably a lot easier at times.” She considered how often she was in need of some adult company but didn’t have the time or inclination to meet someone and deal with the relationship side of things.
