Laryngitis.

Oooh, I know, sexy title.

I have laryngitis, and bronchitis (because I am just that lucky!) and I've had both since Wednesday.

They can both fuck right off.

I hate having laryngitis, everyone takes the piss and goes 'oh, she can't say anything, so that makes it okay' ... newsflash dumbasses, both my brain and my ears still work. You've made the list. You don't want to make my list.

I had to have a go at someone last night, I stayed on as a favour and he was taking the piss and acting like because I had to scream to make a sound, I wasn't saying anything and he could be a dick, so I screamed (whispered) that he could explain to the other manager why the favour was now void and I was walking. And then I couldn't make another sound for the rest of the night.

I fucking hate having to try and work with no voice. I'm meant to be in charge tomorrow night, but how the fuck is that going to work when I can't say shit? I took Friday off, and got a little bit of voice back, but then I had to work in the kitchen for about an hour last night, rather than backing tills or whatever, and my voice went halfway through. I was reduced to hand signals, which is kinda hard when you need your hands for the actual work.

I get laryngitis a lot, by the way. At least once a year. This is about the third time in 8 months now? The last time I lost it for a day, and then I was fine. This time, it's been 5 days and I've made zero progress. My doctor said it could take me three weeks to recover, but there's no way I can have that much time off. I'm meant to have my PR today, so I'll whisper at my boss as best as I can about this. My whole chest fucking hurts.

I have a theory why I do get it so often as well (sorry to jump back and forth so much), since they think TTP is an auto-immune disease, it means my immune system is crap, so as soon as I get one little infection, it turns into a huge viral monster. Someone on a support group on Facebook said they get their TTP from infections, so I guess I should count myself lucky that a slight cold blows up into bronchitis and laryngitis (and yes, the bronchitis is the cause of the laryngitis, lucky me) and not into a major medical emergency. Three weeks seems tiny compared to the months you need off to recover from TTP ...

Siobhan's Sporking: Billy and Me, Chapter 12

I told myself I'd rewrite the start of my story, since that's the weak spot, but I can't concentrate on that. I might as well do another chapter of this.

I read on a tiny bit, in WHSmith when I was seeing how much of the physical book I've read. Disgusted by what happens at the end of chapter twelve, but we're on chapter twelve now, so you get to see my disgust first hand.

Chapter twelve is a lot more of the same as chapter eleven. It's another chapter of 'why are you together again?' because it's just so whiny. I'm starting to picture Sophie like this:

 

Except maybe less pretty? She sure doesn't sound like this to me:

 

That's Giovanna. She's like, unreal she's so pretty, right?

So anyway, chapter twelve starts with some hideous, hideous grammar based on conflicting tenses. Giovanna, I really wish you'd written in recent-past tense.

Going out after the show becomes a regular occurrence for Billy and his cast mates, and one that is usually spontaneous. Being up on stage in front of a live audience gives him such a buzz he needs time to wind down afterwards before coming home to sleep.

See what I mean? That would work in past tense, but Giovanna's not doing past tense, so instead we get clunky-as-fuck prose. Awesome.

Sophie bangs on about how normally, Billy being out is for a drink or two, or dinner with Paul if some big named director or producer or director has been in (okay, it says casting director/producer/director but that is some painful repetition) and those are the days he comes home at midnight. But sometimes there are parties and he won't come in until the small hours of the morning. He hasn't invited anyone back to his since she went all bunny boiler, but Sophie still can't sleep unless Billy's home so what's the point? Sophie mentions sometimes he calls but sometimes he forgets and then the bunny boiler comes out again while she wonders what he's up to.

How do you get so co-dependent in such a short space of time?

 

 

#justsaying.

I love the wangst that starts coming out next:

Who he might be out with is the thing that worries me the most. Is he just out with Paul or the boys from the cast? Or is he with the whole cast and being overly affectionate with Ruth again? Or, and this is the thought that niggles at me the most, is he being propositioned by random girls? In London it's impossible to forget that Billy is such a heart-throb - he can rarely go anywhere unnoticed.

How famous is Billy meant to be again? And so what if random girls think they can get more than a picture and an autograph? Billy should be in control of his libido enough to say 'no thanks, I have a girlfriend' and leave it there. If Sophie's so worried, then they really need some communication, or you know, a chance to actually get to know each other so there isn't this angst. And she really needs to voice this concern over Ruth, which I totally called.

Sophie wangsts some more about how girls eyes light up, even if she's with Billy (how dare they worship one of their favourite actors near her! Don't they know that when you're no longer available that means you're also no longer sexually attractive?) and how she knows there is 'a whole bunch of women(and men) who would happily throw themselves at Billy' ... does how Billy feels not factor in? By all accounts from other characters, Billy won't shut up about Sophie.

The next paragraph is truly Bunny Boiler. I'm just going to insert it and then move on. I don't need to spell it out, surely?

Sometimes, when I can feel myself starting to panic, I call or text him. Just once or twice, not the millions of times I'd like to try until he picks up. Although saying that, he usually picks up or replies straight away, immediately eliminating any fear that was mounting in me - making me feel silly for being dubious of the situation.

Sophie moves on to say that she never goes out with Billy, and she pretends to be asleep whenever he finally staggers home. They only really try and talk in the morning when she's getting ready for work, and half the time he's got his eyes closed or he's barely awake.

The conversation is hardly riveting and extremely one-sided.

I'm going to go ahead and say that seems to be the crux of this relationship. I'm sad guys, I just saw McFly perform at Music On The Hill and they were amazing and embarrassed Tom horribly in front of his mother, and I know they're better than this. I know Giovanna's better than this. This is just horrible ... I wish Billy and me was a lot more like the real Giovanna and Tom.

Sophie then changes her mind and says actually, first thing in the morning isn't the only time they talk (so we're doing a total fanfic job of poor narration to fit whims. No planning necessary, I guess), that actually, they meet up for dinner after her shift, before his performance. Brilliant *facepalms*

Sophie whinges about the evenings again, but this time saying she doesn't even cook because she can't even fatten Billy up anymore. Because hobbies are only good if they please your man, and must be removed if he's not there to appreciate your domesticity. Oh, but wait:

Occasionally, I do make a batch of cakes for him to take in to share with the rest of the cast and crew - which I know Fiona (the raspberry Pavlova scoffer) enjoys. But that's it.

Poor grammar and bitching out other women in the same sentence! It's true what they say, sometimes other women make the worst misogynists. How very dare Fiona enjoy something provided for the entire cast and crew? Does she, as an actress, consider herself part of that? And therefore part of Billy, even though she wasn't feeling up Billy that time ...

... I don't understand this logic. How about gratitude that Fiona recognised it was your talent and flattery for receiving praise without having to beg and coerce for it? Fiona sounds like a genuinely nice girl. Don't take your insecurities out on her. What's that line from "Don't know why"? "Don't right your wrongs with my mistakes."

Take a lesson from McFly, right there. So Fiona accidentally thought the Pavlova was for everyone, it's not her fault you don't see Billy much and you're riddled with insecurities.

After all this fricking angst, we finally get this:

I won't lie, I find it all quite depressing and feel we'd have spent more quality time together if I hadn't made the move to London after all. I see less of him now that I've changed my life to be with him than I did when I was living a contented life in Rosefont Hill.

I keep reminding myself that a snippet of time spent with each other is better than none whatsoever. But it sucks.

I can't wait for this show to finish - then I might get my boyfriend back.

 

When this show finishes, I put money on him going back to LA.

She changes her mind again, by the way, at the start of the section break. They do see each other, on Sundays. They normally chill out. Brilliant, do they talk at any point on this shared day off? Probably not. This is a segue to say that Sophie's mum and Molly are coming over to nosy through Billy's house.

We get some pointless info about how Sophie's mum used to drive, but since Sophie and Billy booked a pink limousine I don't understand the need for that? It was apparently Billy's idea, so I think maybe Sophie was laying some subliminal down when he was half asleep one morning. We get some 'comedy' in the form of Molly calling up to shriek down the phone and ramble on about sticking her head out of the sunroof. What larks.

Sophie's scrubbing away when they knock, and Billy opens the door because famous actors totally open their own front doors whenever anyone rings the bell or whatever. His security detail is shoddy.

Molly's had a haircut by the way. I would say this is pointless, but I've read reviews and know that this is some foreshadowing. And it's a piss-poor attempt, because it's laid down like Molly wanted a change and not because she's preparing for chemo and she's showing off her new 'do. There's absolutely no hint of sadness or fear. And ... my God, this is piss poor writing. Remember how Molly and Sophie's mum just spent at least an hour in a limousine together?

We all just stare at her in shock. I'm guessing Mum didn't know that she'd given herself the chop either, as she looks just as surprised as Billy and me.

Love a title drop. But seriously, Sophie was banging on about how Molly and her mum were interacting in the car, giggling and chatting and daring each other with the sunroof like they're fifteen, and it's only now in the kitchen her mum's like 'wait, you cut your hair?'

 

Then Molly and Sophie's mum start wangsting over Sophie being too thin, and Sophie blames the choice of food at Coffee Matters, because there's nowhere else in London she could possibly eat, I guess. It's not like she has the time to bake either, guys! Oh God, the anti-thin bit is over a page, and the best bit?

"Guys, I'm fine. I'm just busy at work and not eating as much blooming cake as I used to."

All three of them just gawp at me.

"What?" I demand, annoyed that the day together has not kicked off quite as I had planned.

"It's nothing, dear," says Mum.

We're suddenly reading about the initial stages of an anorexic in denial. She's controlling the one constant in her life, acting irrational and striking out at those who question her on her actions ... shit guys, I think she's actually anorexic. I don't think Giovanna even knows what she's writing here.

They go through Hyde Park after the section break, and Sophie grills Molly about Sally, the girl who replaced her in the teashop. Molly's vague about Sally, saying she just took her in, no CV or vetting. Sophie is horrified, horrified I tell you! And Molly reminds her that the same thing happened eight years ago with ... hmmm, let's see, this is a toughy ... name's at the tip of my tongue ...

Oh yeah. You.

Then Molly calls Sally useless because she can't bake, but she's got great customer service and is good with the old dears. That's not a bad thing, you know. In McDonald's, even though you may know all the areas, you will either consider yourself kitchen or service. I can cook a burger and work the BOP, but stick me on till or drive thru and I hit the zone. I know people who can fill our holding bin in ten minutes but then take that long to put a Big Mac meal through on the till.

God, the interrogation goes on for like, three pages. I'm skipping a lot of the anti-Sally shit which I think is there to set up for some kind of article on Billy, and I've been good at calling this book so far.

Molly asks Sophie about London and Sophie goes all emo again, but Molly says her life in London sounds like her life in Rosefont Hill. Points to Molly, there. Sophie then wangsts about how it's different because she doesn't have Molly there, and Molly gives her a look that clearly says she wants to see the scars on Sophie's arms. Sophie then laughs it off.

So she's not telling anyone that she's struggling just to feel even lonelier? I don't understand this girl, you have a support network, this is the point of said support network. When they find you drowning in your bathtub, they're going to feel horrible that they didn't go with their gut because you passed it off.

Molly comes out with some tosh about not wasting her life even though Sophie's already said she works, goes home, then waits for Billy. Glad they listen to each other when they talk. Maybe Sophie has a point about her support system.

They then have a picnic, and Molly and Billy fall asleep which is the perfect lead in for Sophie to talk to her mother, because transitions are hard otherwise. She perves over her mother a little, or that's what it feels like.

Her cheeks glow a warm pink, her eyes sparkle and she laughs freely, looking comfortable. She doesn't seem to be caught up in the inner turmoil that she has had for over a decade and a half. She doesn't seem so fragile. I grab the camera from my bag and take a picture without her noticing.

Because you can only get over your husband's death when you have a new man in your life.

No, I don't have the factoids that Sophie's dad died or that her mother has a new guy, but I am saying Giovanna's writing is that obvious.

Oh, wait, it only took a page of 'you look good mum!' 'oh Sophie, you tease!'

"What is it? Are you OK? You're not ill, are you?" I say with panic.

"No, no, no, it's nothing like that," she says, wiggling my nose like she used to when I was younger, which causes me to grin. She pauses, takes a deep breath and smiles at me as she says, "I've met someone."

I could so write this book for myself.

Sophie feels numb at this revelation and makes her mother turn on the verbal diarrhoea, and Sophie continues to give blank non-answers which shows that she's annoyed that her daddy's getting replaced. She gets the closest at this point to saying her dad's dead and although I sympathise, it's not a huge secret since I've worked it out and it's certainly not a validation for her to act like a spoilt bitch when her mother has clearly found something that makes her happier, and her life more bearable.

She does the thing she did at the Opening Night do, and says the things she thinks people want to hear while swallowing back her personality, telling her mother she deserves it (she does, but you should try meaning it. I know you say you do, but that's like saying 'honestly, Mum!' and what did I say about the word 'honestly' in a sentence?).

I'm getting annoyed by this bit. Everything her mum does or says 'causes' her to do something. There are other phrases, this is sticking out really badly. In this instance, her mother squeezed her hand, which caused her to look up. Is it so hard to write 'Mum squeezes my hand and I look up at her'? Or  'Mum squeezes my hand, which makes me look up at her'?

She's really milking the whole 'my dad's dead but it's my big secret to reveal at the end' bit:

"We'll never forget him, you know, love. No one can take away those special memories and the love that he gave us. He'll always be here, holding us two together."

I nod, but remain silent, wondering if I'll ever miss him any less.

"Darling, what have you told Billy about what happened?" she asks quietly, making sure Billy and Molly don't overhear.

Really, really not obvious at all. And no, she hasn't said anything to Billy, because she can't even articulate that she wishes he'd wind down after a show with her alone.

We get another God Awful transition in a section break, where Sophie can't stop dwelling on Sunday but it's now Monday. She's even more emo because Sally is now great at her job and her mother's moved on and she doesn't feel missed at all. If you wanna interpret it that way ...

It's as though I moved to London in the hope of living this joyous life with Billy, only to spend my days being belittled by vile customers and my nights walking around an empty flat alone, whereas they're back in Rosefont Hill and seem happier than ever without me.

 

And then we cut from the reminiscing and emoing to a customer telling her she fucked up a drink. This happens; you apologise, confirm the right order and then remake it, apologising again.

Not Sophie.

The customer tells her his order. She drags out the word 'yes' into two syllables, which makes her sound drugged and like she doesn't give a fuck. He repeats part of his order, clearly underlining the problem. She just gurns at him. She doesn't ask questions. Remember what I said last post about McDonald's? Listen, Sympathise, Ask Questions, Fix It Now. She's barely done the first stage. But also, her manager is just throwing empty cups at her to fill, ignoring the problem. Bad management there, Andrezj. You should step in, she's clearly inexperienced.

The customer, shockingly, gets annoyed (is she triumphant that he's got a problem? Is she special needs?) and spells it out for her. His impossible drink (an iced sugar-free, coffee-based, mint mocha frappuccino. If it's a frappe, it doesn't need the iced reference, if it's Mocha, it's coffee based. Why are we repeating ingredients? Fuck, I've never even worked at Starbucks and I can spell this out!) is missing the coffee. Since he said coffee-based mocha, that's a double fail there Sophie. He then goes into agitated customer mode: "Honestly, is it so difficult to get a fucking coffee order right?"

Feel good Sophie, you haven't heard 'this is the worst fucking Coffee Matters I've ever been in, I'm telling everyone I know to go to the one down the road. No retards work there.' so he's not as angry as he could be (oh, more than once under my old boss, since you asked. Recently I got told by this guy thrusting his finger in my face that everyone else was working and I should start doing my job too, which is lolz because we were all working our asses off and the demand was double projections. As soon as the finger came out, I switched off and just agreed with the fucker until he left the store. Sometimes, all they want is to hear you're a failure).

Sophie's reaction? Is to carry on staring at him.

I just stare at him, hoping that he'll hear back in his head how he has just spoken to me and apologize, but his glare gets meaner and his jaw rocks from side to side as his anger continues to increase.

News flash Sophie, while you're in that uniform, you are not a person. You don't have feelings. You function to make coffee. Especially to businessmen. Doddery old dears stepping in to share a coffee for elevenses? They know you have feelings and grew up with manners, but time is money bitch and you can't afford him. Sad fact of customer service.

This scene continues to make me cringe, since it's my background and Sophie and Andrezj are being shit at their jobs right now.

"I'm sorry sir, let me take that back and I'll make you a fresh one," I say as I grab the cup from his hand, feeling extremely uncomfortable and exposed, aware that everyone is staring.

"That's not the point is it, little lady. You should've made the right thing from the start. You might not have a proper fucking job, sweetheart, but the rest of us do and we deserve to get what we paid for."

"I'm sorry, but I can't help thinking you're overreacting-" I say, trying to reason with him before getting cut off.

"What?" he booms.

"It's only a coffee ..." I explain.

I am wincing. I just read this out to my sister who also did a stint in McDonald's, Greggs, and a catering firm. The frown on her face said it all.

1. You should have replaced the order by now. Supersize it, throw in a biscotti, anything. If you're incapable of doing this, call to Andrezj. He's your boss, he's a manager because he's been trained and has experience in these situations. It should not have gone this far before a replacement was made. A replacement should have been underway before he had to spell out you left out the coffee. He told you the correct order, that was the point it should have been replaced. Sugar-free mint mocha frap (lets delete the unnecessary words).

2. Everyone's staring because this one man has stopped service for ten others. They all want their coffees now, bitch.

3. Don't feel uncomfortable. I already told you, in the Coffee Matters uniform, the Coffee matters. It's not Employees Matter now, is it? Yes, you should matter to Andrezj, but that's it.

4. It isn't the point. He's a businessman, he probably makes your paycheque in the time it takes to have this conversation. A pound doesn't stop being worth a pound just because you have four hundred times more of them then someone else. You should've made it correct from the start, but accidents happen and you should have replaced it straight away. He gave you an almost full cup back, it's only fair.

5. Coffee Matters, remember? So you know and I know that it's a real job, but people who desk-jockey for a living, or work on a trading floor, don't always have a service background and can't see how a minimum wage job is still a job. But that's not up for discussion, do not take it personally. That's a McDonald's crew mantra, as soon as we have one shitty customer and they've been seen to, it's like a game of tag almost, going up to whoever dealt with that customer and repeating 'it's not personal.' It's. Not. Personal. He's having a caffeine crash, he just lost 2m on the trading floor, his wife left him, this is the fifth Coffee Matters that has accidentally gotten his order wrong. Anything can explain why this guy is acting like a dick, but you're not earning minimum wage to spell out to people when they're being polite or not.

6. Overreacting? So when you go to the supermarket and someone gives you carrots and not flour, if you say something are you going to be overreacting? Guess what? Most service industry outfits welcome this kind of feedback. I'd rather a customer said 'you put pickles in my burger when I said none' so I can give them the right food and they feel like I gave them special attention then have them mutter at their friends, fling the pickle on the window for me to clean up, and then blog and Facebook the shit service they had at my restaurant. He's a brilliant customer, he's offering you an opportunity for growth. I am so, so angry about this one line, you would not believe.

7. No wonder he yelled at you.

8. You're going to get Employee of the month 'it's only coffee'. My boss can tell me 'it's only chips, burgers and fizzy pop'. My customers can too. But the second I say shit about the food (and I'm wheat intolerant) I get it in the neck. That's not your role. That's his choice to call it 'just coffee', or for you and Andrezj to laugh about when the crowd has cleared. YOU DO NOT SAY THIS TO CUSTOMERS.

He then makes an analogy of a doctor free-wheeling over their health service and Sophie gets snotty, saying that's a bit different. True, you wouldn't have the fuck sued out of you for forgetting the coffee. She says she's apologised, and although it's true that she has they sound more like she's getting on her high horse about being right. You know, when people are like 'I'm sorry, but you're wrong,' yes the word sorry is there, but it's not an apology. She then ... she's lucky if she keeps this job after this:

" ... so would you like another coffee or not?" I say, as I pull the lid off of the discarded cup, ready to dispose of it.

"I don't want you to say sorry, I want you to acknowledge the fact that you're a useless human being and a waste of fucking space!" he shouts.

The cold drink goes flying through the air, landing on the guy's face and suit, before I even have a chance to think about my actions.

She threw a drink over a customer she riled up. What was her boss doing to let it accelerate this far? She says in a sec that the staff decided to watch and not interject, but since that is at least Andrezj's job, they should both be in the firing line.

I'd have to look it up, but I'm pretty sure throwing products on the customers counts as physical abuse and is therefore Gross Misconduct. Gross Misconduct is instantly sackable. She should now be suspended with full pay pending an investigation into why her manager let that happen, and then be let go. Andrezj might get a warning, but he'll get off lightly. He wasn't holding the cup.

Isn't it fun having a McDonald's shift manager analyse this?

Apparently, the other customers start clapping and commenting on how they would have done that ages ago. Bollocks. They might have nervously laughed, waited until he left with the intention of calling Head Office, and then whispered that to Sophie and Andrezj as they collect their (carefully made to correct proportions to avoid that again) drinks. Eight years experience talking.

While the man is still wiping the frozen crap off him, Sophie looks at Andrezj and hands over her apron and hat, grabs her bags and leaves.

So, she walks off shift before being dismissed. I take that as her immediate notice, which she's refusing to work through. Good luck finding another job any time soon.

*So disgusted*

*Need to cheer myself up*

 

 

 

Better.

Siobhan's Sporking: Billy and Me, Chapter 11

Chapter eleven is weird. There's no other way to say it. When we delve into it, you're going to join me in thinking 'what do you have in common?' like seriously, why are Billy and Sophie pretending that they belong together?

I'm not trying to be naive, I've been with people where it seems we have nothing in common but we are able to communicate and find a middle ground in our likes and dislikes ... someone point me to the part where Sophie and Billy have this, at the end of the chapter, please? Okay ... here we go ...

It starts with Sophie having a gossip with Molly on the phone.

 

And Molly's wanting to know what Billy's acting is like on the stage. Sophie's response is pretty apt:

"Honestly, Molly, I've never seen anything like it! The whole production was incredible."

Nope, she's never seen a faux-blow job first hand. But it was incredible *winks* so then Sophie and Molly laugh at the fact that the professionals are better than the local amateurs (isn't that implied in the terminology?) and then Sophie said it was interesting. Molly wants to know how and Sophie says she saw his ass in a roundabout way. And Molly replies with something my five-year-old is too mature to say:

"Oh, is that all? I thought you meant the front bit. Well, I wouldn't mind seeing that."

Oh, what lolz, that reads like Molly wants to see Billy's penis. But honestly, 'front bit'? Again, my five year old? He calls it a winky, and has picked up the word noony for girls. And winky and noony are still a step UP from 'front bit'.

Also, Winky and Noony could totally be House Elf names, which is a little wrong ...

And then, oh this is an hilarious conversation, Molly says she meant the play, not Billy's penis or his ass. We get some Sophie brand emo where she says everyone was really cliquey and Molly feels bad she was out of the loop, and then Sophie takes the time to badmouth Paul. Why do you hate my man, Sophie? Sophie tells Molly she thinks Paul thinks that she's going to corrupt Billy. Sorry about that horrible phrasing ... when did Paul say that? He said exercise caution, which is astounding advice. And then Sophie admits maybe she read too much into it, but that also, Paul must be hated because he calls Billy 'Bill' and that's not his name. Bill is too pompous, apparently. Molly thinks that's hilarious.

What a bitch. Seriously, Billy isn't his name either, it's a shorter version of William. His name, if you're going to be that pedantic, is William Buskin. He asks you to call him Billy, but you've seen him interact for minutes with his manager, you don't know the relationship. They probably cleared it years ago that Bill is an acceptable term. It's faster to say, it reduces the name to one syllable (so does my habit of calling him Bills) and also, Sophie, it's none of your damn business.

Sophie talks herself out of telling Molly about Paul's advice or 'rude comments' as she puts it. She has a brief moment of clarity which backs up everything I said in my last post:

It could be that he is just wary of people's intentions when they get close to Billy and is looking out for him. I'll give Paul another chance, I think.

Like you even have a damn choice.

We have a section break where we skip the monotony of work and character building. Seriously, if Sophie's not with Billy, the only other scenes are there to talk about him, we've done the talking about, let's do the talking to. Billy's called Sophie, sounding really excitable. She's making Pavlova. He wants to go to the pub with his co-workers.

She decides that, because he won't come home that minute, the Pavlova is going to go to waste. Guess Billy isn't rich enough to afford refrigeration. Billy says they've gone against that stage conspiracy shit and checked all the reviews anyway, and they're all five stars!

Like fuck they are. They're full of praise for Billy, not one negative comment, so he's banging all the reviewers? I don't know. Billy waits until they've massaged his ego enough to ask Sophie to come along. And this is when the bad taste in my mouth started in this chapter.

"Well, that's amazing! Congratulations," I say. "No wonder you want to celebrate!"
"Come out!" he asks suddenly.
"What?" I laugh, looking down at my purple pyjamas covered in little cartoon penguins.
"Come join us."
"Oh, honey ..."

She spends five seconds imagining dolling herself up and going to see him. But she has work tomorrow, guys, and she's not spontaneous at all, and this is last minute for him asking, and she can't change her plans now. It makes her nervous.

Like when she gave up her entire way of life mere weeks after meeting Billy.

 

Sorry, I know loads of people who're like 'I start work at six, so as long as I'm in bed by two ...' I work with people who will do a slew of double shifts (no, I'm not one of them, I have a child and constant fatigue. My nine hours scheduled and three hours extra are far more than enough) so this smells of lazy bullshit. This is another check in the bunny boiler box.

Billy's all 'you look cute in your PJ's! Come out in them!' so I guess he's one of the drunk guys/guys reeking of weed so bad I get the munchies from the kitchen who come out at 2am and forget the food they even ordered. They always have PJ girls, if the girls are wearing anything.

Billy can't persuade Sophie to socialise or have fun or cut loose in anyway, and she's like 'nope, night, see you later!' and hangs up ...

the flat feels emptier and quieter than before. I stand there rooted to the spot for a short time, feeling lost and unsure of what to do with myself. I don't feel like watching television or reading a book. I don't feel like doing anything. I feel deflated. I feel empty.

*disgusted. Absolutely disgusted*

-The 'flat' was always quiet, you didn't describe playing music or putting the TV on. It was always empty too, it's the two of you in a millionaire's pad.

-Do you ever know what to do with yourself? Or does someone always have to entertain you, like you expected of Paul and Ruth? Or do you just not function without your man? In which case, I hate you. I'll reference my work again - as an unpaid author - take Carter, who starts the novel with a steady girlfriend. When he's not with her, he has four friends to visit or call (Fearn, Becki, Thomas, Lambrini), he has a mass of brothers, one of whom - Cody - he gets along very well with. He has a good relationship with his mother. If he doesn't want to talk to other people, he listens to his iPod, he tries to play guitar, he reads AP magazine, he even grudgingly does his homework sometimes. He's also got a good relationship with Lambrini's father, so sometimes he goes and spends time with him. All of this gets featured a decent amount. I don't understand why you would make your protagonist so bland that without the other feature person, they have nothing.

Okay, let's not focus on my writing. Let's focus on one of my favourite romance authors, albeit Young Adult. Sarah Dessen. We'll pick Annabel, because she was the first character I read about, and she starts her story (Just Listen) with no friends. She's a model for the local mall, and has two older sisters. One who is in film school in New York, and the other is a recovering anorexic. She befriends Owen, who seems massive, and angry, and listens to weird things like entire tracks of fishermen tales over the sound of the ocean. Taps dripping for seven minutes nonstop. Gregorian Chants. He opens up a whole world for Annabel and asks for nothing in return, but Annabel is holding onto a major secret and ends up hurting him. And when they're apart, rather than acting like Sophie is, Annabel throws herself into the modelling, and pleasing her mother, and it's only when she finds a CD Owen gave her that doesn't even work that she begins thinking things through. She also meets Remy and Dexter (you have to read Sarah's novels, all her characters make reappearances throughout the other novels. Remy and Dexter are from This Lullaby) so win.

I really want to read Sarah right now. The Moon and More is my treat for finishing this book.

Anyway, back to my points:

-you feel deflated? Why? He hasn't let you down. If it's about spending time with Billy, he asked for that - just in another location.

-and empty? Yeah, I agree, the above characters show that you, Sophie, are pretty freaking empty.

Sophie then kind of just stands there, staring around at Billy's knick-knacks and narrating that he offered for her to bring more stuff and she refused but now she realises it's like staying in a hotel. She didn't want to take over as well, remember that. she says those words. I didn't want it to look like I was taking over.

We get some more whinging about how this is still very much Billy's house, and then Sophie puts a dome over the Pavlova, gets a glass of water (you rebel) and goes to bed 'ignoring the loneliness that niggles away at my heart.'

Hands up who thinks Sophie made a huge mistake already?

Section break time! This is where I usually start the next chapter, just for random, slightly more interesting information.

Sophie's woken by laughter. Loud, high-pitched laughter. I'd imagine a bit like

 

Oh. My. Gwaaaaaaaaaaaawd!

Anyway, so Sophie says she's woken up by it, but then reiterates by saying it's 'dragging her from her dreams'. Because you dream every night, guys!

The room is dark, so Sophie knows immediately that it's late, but since the time frame should put this around early April? British Summer Time just kicked in, it can be any time after 6pm and be dark this point of the year.

So anyway, lots of people are talking over one another, completely animated. Sounds like Billy has a secret TOWIE fetish. But Sophie doesn't investigate if the voices are coming from the TV:

What is going on?

Who are all these people that have interrupted my sleep?

Why are they here?

My sleepy mind can't quite cope with the unexpected commotion and is slow to piece together an explanation.

Billy.

He has decided to bring people back to the flat.

-You don't know that for sure.

-It might be the TV.

-Yeah, how the fuck dare they interrupt YOUR sleep in YOUR flat?

-Did anyone else read Billy's name like he is so trouble and so help me mister, if your father was home you'd be grounded from here to Kingdom Come?

Okay, McDonald's thing I maybe shouldn't share but is such common sense I have to. Listen, ask questions, sympathise, fix it now. Complaints procedure for managers.

Did she listen to Billy's explanation? Ask if he'd considered her opinion? Show empathy when he explains he knew she was shy and thought it would be best on home ground? Reach a mutually acceptable agreement as a result? Did she fuck.

Billy crawls in (to HIS bedroom) and asks her what she's doing. It's written like he's drunk, but in case I missed that, Sophie tells me. I'm an idiot, you see.

"What are you doing?" he asks in a childlike whisper - clearly having decided to have a few more than the one or two drinks he had promised.
"Sleeping!" I say, hoping my dull tone conveys the fact that I'm not impressed.
"Ha! No you're not!"

He's right Sophie, you're standing there staring again. Unless you sleepwalk and can hold conversations unconscious? And exclamation marks don't normally signal a dull tone, which likewise cannot convey the impatience you've described there. Either it is dull from a need for sleep and slightly slurred, or you're exclaiming because how DARE Billy bring people back to his flat without seeking express permission from the chick he moved in weeks ago?

But also Bills, that's really fucking immature, and her hair's probably mussed, her eyes puffy from the reintroduction of light and lingering sleep, and she's probably giving you the evil eye while folding her arms. Is she scowling? She doesn't want to play, shut the fuck up and give her a little respect. I know, I know, it's hard and this hurts right now, but I have been in Sophie's place and it's not fun.

Uni, since you're asking. My housemate had friends over, and I had a downstairs bedroom. At three AM, one of them got locked out by the others and stood banging on my window shouting 'SIMONE! SIMONE!' and since my name is not Simone, I ignored the fuck out of the wanker waking me up. I had a lecture at 9 AM.

So anyway, Billy talks about his thinking process of 'you can stay in your PJs and hang with us now' and Sophie says no, I have to be up in a few. Billy doesn't seem to understand, so Sophie insists she needs sleep. He says 'it's only Coffee Matters' and I'm thinking ... they've been together for maybe eight weeks, and they're already fighting like this. He wants to party, she wants to knuckle down. Neither of them are trying to see things in the other's way ... they're horribly incompatible.

Sophie's all 'I know he's right but my job shouldn't be less important than his' to which I say, get out of the job you're bitching about and DO BESPOKE CAKES! Fuck's sake ...

Sophie snaps at Billy that she doesn't want to when he's going 'come ooooooooon' and then he calls her boring. He asks her why she doesn't want to have any fun together. He makes a good point, but he's being an incredible arsehole about it. Sophie kinda clams up and he strops off, so that Sophie can emo her way into trying for him. Billy's a little bit of a manipulative arsehole, isn't he?

And what was Paul saying, the first conversation with Sophie? Sophie, remember that, he was warning you about scenes like this. Especially as Billy doesn't send anyone home, or ask them to shut up, he just delves straight in there. Sophie tries for a little bit to sleep but shows a little more of her psychiatric problems by not being able to do so with other people around. She goes into the lounge, where Billy and four friends are sprawled on the sofas.

They sound like they're having an orgy, because they're draped all over one another 'like some sort of Renaissance painting'. She recognises them all by name and gives a description, which is hilarious because she couldn't do that for Billy when they first met. Fiona gets instant bitch points, not just for being a girl in Billy's presence, but because she's eating the Pavlova and smoking. Billy's obviously cool with smokers in his house but Sophie is 'not sure which of her two activities I'm more annoyed at.'

And uh-oh, what did I say last time? Exhibit B, Your Honour, for reasons why Sophie thinks Billy is screwing Ruth. Ruth has her head on Billy's lap, Your Honour, and he has his arm laid across her body so that his hand is on her thigh.

Their closeness makes me inwardly squirm and feel uncomfortable. They look like a couple. I have a sudden urge to drag Billy back to the bedroom and ask him what he thinks he's playing at, but I don't.

Take the hint Sophie. Paul saw something like this happening, go with your gut. Go back home.

Fuck you Billy, now I'm rooting for her to leave and steal a bunch of your shit to go with her. The stuff she can pawn. She can burn the rest.

It gets worse.

Nobody jumps up to rearrange themselves - they all stay in their comfortable positions, as though there is nothing wrong or inappropriate with the affectionate way they're sitting. Perhaps there isn't. Maybe my awkwardness at it says less about them and their theatrical chummy ways and more about me and my inability to be so free and open.

Maybe you're both on cloud cuckoo and the middle ground between the two is more standard? And this coming from a girl who doesn't like to be touched unless she cares about someone.

Billy's smug about Sophie being there, and Ruth asks if they woke her up, while frisking Billy. Fiona says the cake is delicious, which is fucking hilarious, because it's a meringue:

 

and Sophie gets all flattered and warms up to them. She wonders if she should cuddle up to one of the guys who isn't Billy (as revenge? To make him jealous?) but decides to do what she was, apparently, born to do. She acts like a tea girl.

So much for her pre-press thought. And is that why Billy poached her from her old life? A free maid he just has to kiss occasionally? God, I'm really beginning to hate him.

Also, I want to add in this excerpt. It's not from Billy and Me, but from the McFly autobiography. Oh yeah, I've gone there! It's long, but I hope you can see the parallels I drew from this chapter:

Harry:  ... back at the band house, it was party time. I had different mates around every night, and I'd discovered that Dougie, too, was happy to join me in a smoke. I read him the riot act: "Dude, you can't tell Tom ... Danny said he'd go crazy ..."
Once the others were back from Florida, we were super careful to hide our habit from Tom. But as the weeks passed, we grew a bit sloppy. We started smoking by the open window in Dougie's room, feeling a bit bummed out that Tom wasn't into it and that we had to hide what we were doing. We were having too much fun getting stoned, and it sucked having to be so secretive.

Tom: I might have been naïve, but it didn't take more than a few weeks for me to work out that something was going on, especially given that the whole house stank of cannabis. Not that I knew what the smell was, of course, but when I started to suspect that the guys were doing something they shouldn't be, I was ten times more alert to the little telltale signs. Why were they so obviously waiting for me to go to bed? Why did I suddenly feel a bit left out? And as Harry and Dougie were getting sloppier and sloppier at keeping things secret, I soon twigged what was happening.
I spoke to Danny about it first. "Mate, I think Harry and Dougie might be doing drugs."
He nodded, all wide-eyed innocence. "Yeah, I know ... shocker."
The penny dropped. I sat in my room and burst into tears. Our band had barely begun, and already our drummer and bass player were a couple of drug fiends! What would our management say if they found out? What would my parents say? Even worse than that, I was worried what would happen if the public found out. We were still unknown, but I knew that it was just a matter of weeks before we would be catapulted into the public eye. If it leaked out that half our band was doing drugs, our career would be over before it had even started.

The only difference here that I can see? Cake has replaced drugs, and actors have replaced bandmates. The upshot of the scene above? Tom amended their manager's rules so they only smoked weed once a week, outside, after 11pm. They soon broke his rules, so he drew them a note of them toking up with the words 'Rule Breakers' ... and then joined in. So in the chapter of Billy and me ... has Giovanna put Sophie in Tom's place?

geez

I'm on break right now. On an overnight in one of our other franchise stores.

I'm so freaking tired.

It's so freaking quiet.

Nearly everything is done already.

What do I do for the next three hours?

seriously, we've taken £100 all night ... my store does that the first hour, easily.

it's just breakfast set up left.

how do I stay awake?

Siobhan's Sporking: Billy and me, Chapter 10 (part 2)

Walking to the after party, which is being held across the street from the theatre in a trendy bar, we notice there's a line of photographers waiting outside.

This feels like a run on sentence. And I hate the word trendy. Ugh.

The nerves start to kick in again at the thought of walking into that crowded room on Billy's arm, knowing I'll be scrutinized and judged.

She didn't have that many nerves about being alone on the red carpet, ready to be photographed  just for shacking up with Billy. This is how I hate Sophie.

This is my first proper outing, the first one I'm almost prepared for (well, I'm flourless and wearing decent clothes), and I want to make a good impression - so far people have only seen the two sets of pap pictures, they haven't seen or heard anything else about me, so it'll be nice to get pictures when I'm looking my best and show that I'm not just some dowdy teal-girl.

All she cares about is looking good. Didn't she spend the first couple of chapters expostulating that she's a simple girl and doesn't care for high fashion? That she tries to be practical? Because she's coming across as really shallow and vapid now.

Although I still find the whole thing daunting, I'm proud of Billy, and want to be there with him on his special night, supporting him as a girlfriend should.

She's also starting to sound a little bit like a bunny boiler.

 

"Bill," says Paul, stopping us both. "I think it's really important that you do these photos alone tonight, the ones inside and outside. It's got to be about you and what you've achieved. It would be foolish to let something else overshadow that," he adds, taking the time to slowly look from Billy to me so that he can hammer his point home.

I think Paul makes an excellent point. When Billy brought this topic up as plot point earlier, he expounded his need to be taken seriously in his profession and how he could achieve that by doing this edgy stage play. Paul is placing a reminder here about the end goal, the long term achievement over the short term whim. I like Paul again!

In other words, Billy should have no photos taken with me, because that is what the press will focus on, thereby distracting from the purpose of the night, which is to show Billy's worth as an actor.

Thank you for spelling out Paul's meaning, because without the reiteration, I would be lost, lost I tell you! Stephenie Meyer is kind of a hero of yours, isn't she?

I understand the point, obviously, but coming from Paul it feels more than a little bit unwelcoming.

Because Paul finds social situations with strangers awkward and has therefore ignored your Mary-Sueness. Paul must be stopped at all costs!

Billy turns to me with concern.

Why?

"It's that OK?" he asks.

Why is it capitalised OK and not okay? I mean, technically both are correct but I prefer the word to the abbreviation.

"Of course!" I say, not wanting to cause a drama on his special night by showing that I'm uncomfortable or disappointed that it has to be this way. "It makes sense," I say with a shrug.

I really hate this, because she's clearly not expressing her opinion - which I still think is bunny boiler - and yet she still expects people to pander to her whims and it's just going to blow up eventually. It's a horrible way of writing, I know it happens in real life but real life doesn't always make for realistic books.

"You sure?" he asks again, cupping my face with his right hand and rubbing my cheek with his thumb.

He didn't ask again, because he changed the question. A better dialogue tag would be 'he pressed'. Also, is he trying to con her into feeling a certain way by using that kind of physicality?

"She said yes, you soppy fool," says Paul, while he playfully pushes Billy towards the party. "Go on, get in there, Bill! It's your night. Sophie will be safe with me. We'll see you in there."

I love you a little, Paul.

"OK, see you in there," says Billy as he squeezes my hand, releases it and walks in to charm the awaiting press.

Why is he walking in for the press, when the press are waiting outside? Were they holding hands? He was holding her face, sure, but getting hands and face confused is an achievement, surely?

We watch Billy posing for the cameras and see him laugh as people shout things out to him about his pert bottom.

Oh, dear God.

Paul turns to me with another fake smile.

How do we even know Paul is fake-smiling? Maybe he's making a real effort with you and you're just being a bitch. I know which one I believe here.

"I'm so glad you understand, Sophie. It could be quite awkward otherwise. You see, it would be different if you had a public profile yourself, it's hard to get past something like that, but well, it's still early days and things can change in a flash. There's just no point creating a fuss over something that could dissolve as quickly as it was formed."

Again, great advice from Paul. And it's not even about Billy, so much. He's looking out for Sophie. He's saying he knows what Billy's like, and since this isn't about publicity and she hasn't had coaching, it's a little tenuous. He's saying Billy might hump'n'dump and she would do well to try and protect herself a little bit otherwise she could end up hurt. He's taking her feelings into consideration. And I have to hand hold for this bit because Sophie?

His words ring in my ears as I break them down, slowly making sense of them.

Tell us when you're done. Any time ...

"You don't think we'll last, then?" I ask him as I look down and fiddle with a loose bit of black thread on my dress.

Sophie thinks he's saying she doesn't belong with Billy and Paul wants to put an end to the charade.

"Not at all, I didn't say that," he says, putting his hand on his chest in shock, as if my interpretation of his words is pure madness.

Or else, he's genuinely surprised you think he's that callous, and he's hurt that you're twisting his concern. Which, when you think about it Paul, my future husband, means maybe we should be worried that she wants to believe the worst in you. To me it's a sign that she's thinking that way, because she's expecting for you to catch her out.

"But that's what you meant, though. Right?"

What. A. Fucking. Bitch.

 

"Sophie, don't be silly," he says in a patronizing tone, resting a hand on my shoulder once again. "I just think we should take our time - this is a lot for you to take in at once. It could be quite overwhelming, that's all. There's a lot to learn."

Paul, you're not patronising, she's just choosing to take it that way because she thinks only of herself. I think you're doing a stellar job, personally.

Yes, I think, and the number one thing I've already learnt is to be wary of the people I meet, even if they do work for my partner.

Your partner, like you've been together for so long *grinds teeth*. The thing is, if this situation has happened to Giovanna - and I can't imagine Fletch being like this with McFly or Giovanna - then her reaction is more relevant because Tom and Giovanna met at thirteen and dated on and off from then, her indignation at that point is valid. But she's not writing a couple meeting young and one of them catapulting to fame, she's writing an established famous person and a nonentity, and the reaction is completely out of place.

Billy spends the next hour doing a variety of interviews with press about the play and chatting up the important thespians and critics in the room.

As you know, his job requires. Since without these people, he would struggle.

I, unfortunately, have been stood next to Paul during that time.

Why is it unfortunate? It's unfortunate for Paul, sure.

Luckily for me, though,  instead of continuing with the conversation he started outside, he has decided to ignore me completely and he continually failed to introduce me to whoever he is talking to, causing me to linger by his side while attracting odd glances from his showbiz pals.

I think it's more lucky for Paul, personally, but what kind of behaviour is that? He has zero obligation to you, he made the effort and you bunny boiled him so why the fuck should he even try? And can't you introduce yourself to people? Can't you start conversations? No wonder you're getting odd looks, I'd be like 'the fuck is that girl sniffing up around Paul? Did one of Billy's fans get in?'

Although it aggravates me that he is being so rude, I'm actually quite glad that I'm not being included, because now, thanks to Paul, I'm no longer in the mood to make small talk with strangers.

He's being rude? HE'S BEING RUDE?

I need Kellan.

Twilight ruined that mass of beautiful, absolutely ruined him.  

And when were you ever in the mood to make small talk with strangers? You've expected everyone else to put in all the effort. Who the fuck do you think you are?

When Billy finally finds his way over to us, an hour or so later, he has a woman in tow, her arm looped through his.

Oh, shit's going DOWN now. Billy, you're dating a bunny boiler, this is not good!

She's wearing a little black dress, which she has partnered up with leopard print heels.

Like a slut would wear, obviously.

 

Her bare, toned and tanned legs seem to go on forever.

What a whore, amirite?

"Sophie, this is Ruth Banks from the show," says Billy, introducing us.

Oh, check it out Paul, Billy will introduce her, you're obviously such a bastard in comparison to Billy. Also, that's Stephanie Pratt.

"Ah!" I say, recognising her as the blond with the enthusiastic hair-swishing talent.

'Ah!' I said, as eloquently as Ana Steele, while I emulate her ability to hate on anyone blonde. She MUST be after Christian Billy.

"I just wanted to come over and say hello. Plus, OMG! So sorry about the whole blow job thing ... how awkward?" she says, putting her hands to her cheeks in mock shame, causing Billy to laugh.

I like Ruth, she's obviously embarrassed to learn Billy's new girlfriend saw the show and rather than acting like nothing happened and immersing it in some kind of shame, she's like 'let's laugh it off, because otherwise it could go bad.' She's making the best of a weird situation, poking fun at something that could be really awkward. I admire her for that.

"Oh ..." I say with a smile, swiping the air with my hand as if brushing the subject aside due to its unimportance.

These two noises are the only contribution Sophie has to this conversation. She's flapping about, barely speaking. I bet Ruth thinks she's special needs and is trying to work out if that makes Billy some kind of hero, or some kind of creep.

Clearly this isn't actually how I feel about the whole thing, but I'm not entirely sure how one should react in these circumstances.

It's not clear, because you're passing it off. The only outward sign you've made of how uncomfortable it has made you is to gasp, and well, that could have come because you didn't realise how enthusiastic they'd have to be over it. And how you should react? Is to laugh along with Ruth, glad she brought it up because talking about it means it's not being hidden, it's therefore not shameful and there's little chance she has an emotional connection to your boyfriend.

I'd rather not have her mention it at all - especially seeing as Billy hasn't referenced it in the slightest.

Which says SO much about Billy, here.

"Seriously, they made us do that on the first day of rehearsals as well - talk about getting to know each other quickly. I just didn't know where to look!" she giggles.

Can I marry Ruth too?

"Ruth, you're making it sound like I've actually been swinging my bits in your face," Billy says, bemused, while shaking his head, a flicker of annoyance in his voice. "Don't worry, I've been safely under wraps, at all times!" he says to me, as he pulls me into him and kisses my forehead.

Um, Billy, you did have your bits swinging in her face! They were under a G-string sure, but what if you did a Simon in the Inbetweeners and let a bollock hang out? What if she made you hard? What if there was accidental touching? He sounds annoyed, I bet, because he wants Ruth and she's clearly said no. That's how this is reading to me. And then he reassures Sophie out of nowhere, like a fucking child. They haven't been caught in a compromising position, they've been doing what they've been asked by a script and a director.

"Aww, you guys are so cute!" squeals Ruth. "He talks about you non-stop!"

And suddenly Ruth has a personality transplant.

Paul, noticing that Billy has returned (and no doubt annoyed that he has his arm around me in public on his ever-so-important night), waves his hands in the air to grab his attention.

I hate the aside in brackets. Talk about putting words in Paul's mouth! Also, this isn't a real party, it's a way to talk to journalists and critics and other actors and as such, Billy shouldn't be sat around chatting with his girlfriend and co-star. He has the chance to do that whenever the fuck he wants.

I got yo back, Paul my love.

"Billy, you must come and meet Clarissa Hall from The Times," he calls, beckoning him over. "She's been dying to hear about your process of finding the character and how you've coped under the pressure."

Why are The Times covering this? And how generic are those questions? I'm not blaming you Paul, you're just being written this way.

"Sure!" Billy says, loosening his hold of me.

Gripping her pretty tight there, huh Bills?

"You'll be ok with Ruth for a bit, Sophie. I'll bring him back," Paul says as he hurries Billy along.

But honey, will Ruth be okay with Sophie?

I look at Ruth, my designated babysitter, and smile.

I hate that she has to have a designated babysitter. She's twenty-fucking-six.

We don't know each other.

Oh ... really? Because even though this is your first time meeting and Ruth has been sparkling and friendly and enthusiastic and inquisitive ... you've made two noises at her. I think she knows you inside and out, now. I'm not even sure if I'm being sarcastic, here ...

This is uncomfortable.

Only because you're making it that way.

"So, what do you do then, Sophie?" she asks, tilting her head to the side as though she's genuinely intrigued.

I agree with the 'as though' because she's making a real effort and getting sweet fuck all back and now she's getting to the point of 'politely check out of conversation with the weird girl'.

It's the question I've been dreading, but seeing as pictures of me in my uniform have been in the papers and the majority of people in this room have probably seen them, I can't really shy away from it.

I really don't know the point of this angst. You have a job, you're not a fully-fledged gold digger. You could use it to your advantage and act like you're humble because a job is better than sponging off your new, famous boyfriend. It's not hard to do. Like, I know my time at McDonald's would make me a little bored with other jobs out there, because there is so much to it.

"Actually I've not been in London long."

Which doesn't answer Ruth's question. Your career or past times, that would answer her questions.

"Oh, right?"

Polite disinterest while wondering what the relevance is of that answer. I feel for you, Ruth.

"So I've just got a little job to tide me over until I find something else more permanent."

*sniggers* She sounds like she does temp work.

"So where are you at the moment?" she digs.

Because you didn't understand the first time, and she's making such an effort. Ruth's an angel.

"Coffee Matters?" I don't know why I say the name as though she'll never have heard of it before, she clearly would have.

You sound like you're guessing what jobs normal people do. She probably thinks you are a gold digger.

 

I watch as a flash of pity and disinterest flicker in her eyes, before she manages to drum up her reaction.

I'd be disappointed to, if I had to work my ass off for that answer.

"Oh, how lovely," she says, unconvincingly.

Because you clearly hate the job you've had for two seconds.

"Not really, but it'll do for now," I smile, hoping my honesty will banish the awkwardness that now sits between us.

THAT YOU PUT THERE!

"So many of my friends are in the same boat, having to do jobs they hate while trying to get somewhere in life. Oh gosh," she says suddenly, grabbing my arm and looking over my shoulder at someone behind me. "An old friend from drama school has just walked in, I've got to go and jump on him. Do you mind?"

I like how Ruth tries to let her know to get over it, that's how life works and she's not alone in that circumstance, but then immediately does what Billy and Paul did so much more smoothly and ditches her.

"Not at all!"

Lying through her teeth again.

"Great. Back in a sec," she beams, as she literally runs and catapults herself onto the unsuspecting man's back with whoops of joy.

I would kinda love it if it wasn't the old friend, but I like Ruth too much. And also, this enthusiasm has been there since she was first introduced to Sophie, she's a very out-going girl. Put money on it Sophie thinks Ruth and Billy are doing the nasty backstage.

I play around with the straw in my glass and look at the people around me who are making the most of this networking event.

Did she have a glass? And yes, finally, it's a networking event, not an after party. Thank you for waking up and smelling the fucking coffee.

They're all laughing and talking excitedly to one another whilst occasionally giving quizzical glances at the girl in the corner, who is standing on her own.

I don't think they're really concerning themselves with you, so much.

Me.

I got that. No, really, I got that.

Later that night, after hours of watching Billy circulate the room with Paul eagerly placed by his side, we both climb into bed. A small slice of light coming from the hallway illuminates the room gently, enabling us to see the room and each other.

So they're in a dark room, and haven't bothered turning out the hall light? That's weird to me, I'm not the only one, am I?

After a minute of silence Billy turns to me and runs his fingers through my hair.

This is so ... not tacky, but something sticks for me. It just lacks emotion, and it seems awkward. There's nothing between them.

"Did you really enjoy the show, baby?"

DON'T CALL HER BABY!

 

"I thought you were great, honey ..." I say, putting on another smile and looking at him briefly before gazing back at the ceiling.

She's as bad as him, with the honey. And staring at the ceiling, in bed with your new boyfriend? This is so ... they don't care one iota for each other. There's no first flush of love, I'm pissed off. At least when Lambrini started going out with Curtis she's like 'I love kissing him so much, squee!' and talks about how weird it is to suddenly be in that situation but how good it feels anyway. And even though it's slow and a little strange between them, you root for them and yep, I am outright saying my book is better. Fuck you, Giovanna.

"But?" he says slowly.

So it sounds like 'Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut?' How can you say that slowly? Would it be better to be like 'Billy hesitated for a moment. 'But?' He sounded unsure.'

I sigh. I'm actually aware that I either let the whole thing slide by, not wanting to cause a problem, or I just say what's on my mind so that I can get reassurance of some kind that I'll be kept in the loop in the future.

Or how about, you've been dating him for maybe two months and he wants to know that he's capable of doing stage work, and it's not about your insecurities but about his.

I hate when other people hear you asking for a genuine opinion about something they've done and they make it about them. I mean, sure, use your experience to illustrate your point, but then refer back to the question for a comparison.

As I'd rather not get the shock of my life again in a crowded room, I decide to be honest.

Well, that makes once in the whole book.

"Well ... I wish you'd have warned me about certain moments."

He did! Swear to God, when he told you he was doing stage work, he told you the nature of the play. What a BITCH.

"Oh ..." He stops fiddling with my hair and sits up, leaning on his elbow. "I said it was dark and dirty, didn't I?"

Pretty much, yeah, Bills.

"I don't think you said dirty, but either way, it just would've been nice to know that you were about to expose your butt to the world." I explain. "And that you'd have someone so close to your bits pretending to, you know ..." I continue, not able to look him in the eye.

You're in the dark, chill your beans about being able to see each other. That stupid hall light isn't going to do much.

I just ... I'm done with this girl so much, already.

 

We lay in silence for a few moments.

We lay in awkward silence for a few moments, surely?

"You know Ruth never actually saw anything, right?" he says, rubbing his thumb along my cheek and chin, trying to soothe my thoughts with his actions as well as his words.

Except when your ball dropped out. And I love when guys poke my face and chat on about other girls. Totally gets me in a sexy-time mood.

"Right ..."

 

I fucking love Drake and Josh ...  

"Seriously, I think she was just feeling awkward about the whole conversation and just blurted stuff out. It's not easy doing scenes like that and then meeting people's other halves. Honestly, I've had my trousers on the whole way through rehearsals, it wasn't until we got in to the theatre for tech rehearsals that I actually had to pull them down and, to be honest, I was more concerned with getting my butt out and whether the audience could see the G-string up my crack - which I have to say was not very comfortable."

He said honestly, you saw that didn't you! Twice. He was concentrating more on not getting a hard on. And guys don't talk like that in front of girls.

"Lovely!" I say, at the grim image, although it's good to know he was properly covered up, of course. "How do you even rehearse something like that? I mean, you must need to get into it or something. It must get you ... excited."

She's calling him a shit actor. How does that make you feel again, Jude?

Still not impressed.

"Baby, I'm acting," he says matter-of-factly. "Plus, even in rehearsals we had the director with us and all sorts, so I was always concerned about making it look right and standing at the correct angle or whatever. It's professional and it's just work. I'm not stupid enough to think what's happening at work crosses over into real life."

Most sensible thing Billy has said so far. Go on Bills, tell her about the essence of the play and the relevance of that first scene she's fixated on.

"But yet you have dated your co-stars," I blurt.

*speechless*

"What?" he says, pulling away from me as though my words have literally punched him backwards.

With you, Bills. She's in full on bunny-boiler mode.

 

"Well, obviously at some point with them it became a reality ..." I say meekly, instantly regretting having said anything about his past.

You should regret it! You're calling him unprofessional!

I hadn't even thought of this earlier, so have no idea where the concern has come from.

You did think about it earlier. It's coming from the fact your face hasn't been that close to his junk, and your first peep at his ass was when 200- or so other people got a glimpse too.

"That was completely different," he says drily, looking away from me.

Billy's brilliant here. You should be pissed off. You should break it off now, before she gets so into boiling bunnies, there's none left.

 

We sit in silence, unsure how to correct what's been said and erase the negativity between us, which has never been there before.

Honeymoon's over, people! And there wouldn't be any negativity if you hadn't just made this about you.

"I'm sorry ..." I start.

I hope that is just the start. Wait, no ...

"No, you've got nothing to be sorry for," he says turning back to me slowly. "I was single then, Soph. Everything was different back then. But baby, I'd never do anything to hurt you. You must know that?" His arms engulf me, making me feel safe once more.

The fuck? She has everything to be sorry for. She's being judgemental and close-minded. I had to re-read that line about being single, and I realised he meant he was single to begin with, before hooking up with his co-stars. He wasn't cheating ... I read it as 'hey, we were co-stars with benefits, we weren't dating!'

And stop with the fucking lines!

"It was just strange for me, you know?" I explain. "I'm not used to any of this."

 

Is all I'm going to say.

"I know. I should've told you what was happening right from the start," he says with a pained sigh. "I knew it."

You ... you did.

"Why didn't you then?"

He DID.

"I thought about it, I mentioned it to Paul."

That's a comma splice and I hate you.

"And what did he say to do?" I ask.

Stop digging for dirt on my future husband!

"He said it was best not to worry you unnecessarily. That I'd make you think it was worse than it actually was."

This isn't him telling Billy not to say anything, this is Paul telling him to think through how he says it, because from what Billy's told him, Sophie is delicate. Exercising caution to protect her.

I love Paul.

How interesting that Paul had queried the fact that Billy had chosen not to say anything about it, when he'd specifically told Billy not to tell me.

That's not what Paul said, and not what Billy's telling you.

"I see ..."

You don't.

"How was it with Paul, by the way?"

Pretty good *reaches for a cigarette* much better than you, he knows how to treat a woman ...

Ahem.

"Fine. I'm not sure he likes me very much though."

Don't blame him.

"Really? I'm sure he does. It was just a stressful situation tonight, lots of schmoozing to be getting on with. He was probably just preoccupied. I'm sure you two will get on like a house on fire soon enough."

He was preoccupied. But also, that's a huge assumption to make. One is your employee who seems to have a father-like role in your life. One is your new beau. You have different reasons for having them in your life. Does Paul like baking? Sophie doesn't understand his intent ... they're never going to get along. Saying it right now, and this is as far as I've read.

"Maybe," I say, deciding not to tell him about the conversation outside and Paul's flippant behaviour towards me.

Because Billy will side with Paul, or you'll tell it wrong, because you're so determined that Paul's the bad guy here.

Perhaps Billy's right and it was just a tense night for him, his keenness to get it right leading him to act bizarrely. Maybe ...

He was acting bizarrely? WTF?

And that's the end of chapter ten, thank God.