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Shock, yes. Fear, yes. But pain, really?
WHY?
I should be in the Mulberry, having fun, not wailing over a jackass who screwed me over, again.
“I’m not even going to bother mimicking the lip chew,” Josh says, and I sigh.
“I feel like an idiot.”
“Why?”
I shrug. “I hate the fact he can make me feel like this. He isn’t worth it.”
He brushes some stray hair behind my ear. “If I suddenly saw Amy crooning on a multi-million view video about me, and how I’d destroyed her soul, I wouldn’t be feeling all that great myself, Ella.”
“Especially if she was telling the world you were a hooker.”
“Hmm.” He pauses. “I wouldn’t give too much of a toss about that, actually. She could tell whoever she wanted that I fuck people for a living, but if she was hyper melancholic about how I’d screwed her over, lying like a bitch, that’s another matter.”
“Really?” I look at him. “You wouldn’t give a shit who knew?”
He doesn’t so much as bat an eyelid. “No.” He strokes my hair again. “Are you ashamed of it?”
His question cuts through my pain enough for me to ponder it. Am I? No. Not day to day. Richard Jacobs had me feeling like crap, embarrassing me and trying to use it for his advantage, but did it work? No. The jerks outside my old place, jeering at me on their bikes like assholes – did it work? No. It wouldn’t do anymore. I’d give them a middle finger and laugh it off, maybe even flash them a tit and say it was out of their price range.
There is one area that is very, very different, though. One area that gives me chills at the thought. Actually shudders.
My parents.
What if they hear his fucking song?
Josh feels me stiffen up.
“What?” he asks.
“Mum and Dad,” I say. “What if they hear it?”
“I don’t know,” he replies. “That depends on whether you ever plan to tell them what you do for a living.”
Josh’s family are so different to mine. It was hell sitting across their dining table, looking at Connor playing loved up with Carly, but meeting them, and seeing the openness between them, and from the things Josh has told me. They welcome honesty. Nonjudgement. Being able to be your true self and embracing that.
But my parents are too, aren’t they? They’ve always loved me for me. A weird, gothic dreamer, following Connor along the imaginary dream road, that turned into reality. What a joke.
Would they still love me if they knew I was a hooker?
I get another shudder when I think of how proud they were of my high end job in PR. The thought of that being taken away makes me feel sick. Again.
“Maybe it’s too early,” Josh says. “It’s not all that easy for people to tell their nearest and dearest in the main. A lot of entertainers never do.”
“I might not get a choice though, might I?” I look at him. “Connor’s gone viral. My parents might hear it for themselves.”
“Are they likely to be browsing social media?”
“Not really.”
“How about keeping an eye on music news in the UK?”
“Probably not. But it’s Connor, isn’t it? If they so much as caught wind of it, they’d be on it like a rocket. And at this rate, they’re going to find out, aren’t they? If he makes it big, they will know about it, next week, next year, who knows, but they will. One day they will hear that song.”
