Dawn was breaking in the eastern sky when the chartered aircraft landed at rain-soaked London City airport. After hopping from Liverpool to Manchester, Birmingham to Newcastle, Edinburg to Glasgow in a span of mere hours, Pentoniac poured out of the plane and headed for a popular music store for the last of signings, photo calls, press conferences, and interviews in Britain for their latest album that had launched a week ago and remained unshakeable from the number one position on the charts. In only two years, they had knocked the record set by the Beatles with eight consecutive number one singles.
Inside the blacked-out limousine, Ben watched his best friend fidget with his phone, lacking his usual exuberance. Kyle, Mark, and Nathan were in the row ahead of them, chattering on without a break. Brandon had just ended a call with his mother, letting her know that they had arrived in London for their whirlwind promotional extravaganza. His heart pounded as he pressed the other number on his speed dial, the anticipation turning into a deep, disappointed ache when the call went unanswered.
“Everything alright?” Ben asked, trying to scrutinize the frontman’s change in demeanour without being too obvious. Brandon nodded, sinking back into the seat. Many moons ago, their mothers were carrying them at the same time, forging their brotherly bond even before they came into the world. The Barretts and Folans had always been close, but someday in the not-so-distant future, they hoped to be a family, officially.
“Mam and Dad are making a big deal of my 21st next week,” he sighed. “Midnight celebrations at Lillie’s Bordello, then a party at home later.”
“And?” Ben urged, scrolling through the messages on his phone. Brandon turned his head to watch the light drizzle leaving streaks on the window.
“I tried calling Izzi to talk about it,” he said. “She isn’t answering.”
“I think she needs the space,” Ben mentioned. “Things have been overwhelming her lately.”
“Including me,” Brandon rued, closing his eyes. Ben gave him a fleeting look.
“My sister was always different, and you knew that.” His voice dropped. “She isn’t Ginny. She isn’t going to fawn over your sudden wealth.”
Ben reached for a bottle of water. “There’s a lot on her plate right now. She’s attending one of Britain’s finest colleges on a full scholarship, she’s living on her own for the first time, she was spotted with you on our first world tour, making her the object of curiosity for the press, and she’s left the comfort of Sligo to return to the city where she almost died several times.”
He looked at Brandon’s sad face again. “And all you care about is your Ferrari.”
“You know it’s not true.” Brandon’s skin tingled. “But it’s my money. I earned it and I have the right to spend it the way I want.”
“Don’t you keep telling her that your money is her money too? And you have a problem when she expresses her displeasure about how you’re spending it? All she did was point out how impulsive and meaningless your purchase was. You didn’t have to pick a fight with her.”
“Just because I’m buying supercars doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten my priorities. I bought my parents a house before I started splurging on fancy things.”
“But it makes her think you’re getting out of her league.” Ben sighed heavily. “We’re rich and famous now, and you, Kyle, and Nathan are blowing money on things that no one has ever owned in Sligo or even Malahide. And let’s not even get started on the drinking. You were throwing up in a bucket before each show throughout the tour. I was trying to rein in you lads the whole time, like what are you doing? Giving yourself alcohol poisoning? She shouldn’t have to deal with your celebrity lifestyle or all the bull crap that comes with it when she’s starting a new chapter.”
And what a chapter it was. After having awed one of the oldest music colleges in the world with her grades and talents, she stepped out with him to three record label parties, four award functions, and two charity balls, unintentionally becoming the centre of attention with her poise, elegance, and breathtaking beauty. The eyes followed her whenever she was spotted with him at any event. Ginny called her a princess. Even Kyle failed to look away, forgetting that she was the same girl he had called a weirdo.
She had then gone on to win an Irish dancing contest with her fluid moves and innovative choreography, and if Brandon had not been in the audience bursting with pride, he would not have believed that her slender, graceful legs were strong enough for such nifty footwork.
The high had ended with their unintentional conflict. Brandon felt a punch in the gut when he recalled raising his voice at her for the first time and how she had recoiled, as though bracing for an invisible blow. No matter how many times he apologised for the rest of his life, he would never forget the spark of fear he had unwittingly incited in her, even if momentarily.
“Louis was asking why she wasn’t with me at the party the other night,” he said to his raven-haired friend. “I didn’t know what to say.”
“That old gaffer,” Ben chuckled to himself. “I think he’s grown fond of her. Hard not to. She has that effect on people.” He gave Brandon a small smile. “You cried in the restroom, didn’t you?”
Brandon swallowed hard. “I felt terrible. I didn’t mean to hurt her.”
“I’m not the one you need to convince, mate,” Ben reasoned. “But Izzi never holds a grudge.”
“Grudge?” Brandon scoffed. “She might as well never want to see me again and I won’t be surprised. I deserve it after my attitude with her.”
“She’s an objective person, Brandy. Give it some time. There’s no one else she cares more about than you.”
“Yeah, she practically nursed me back to health when I was down with the flu last month.” Brandon closed his eyes again. “Louis wanted me out of the hotel so you lads wouldn’t catch my sickness, and she was there for me to fall back on. She cooked for me, gave me the medicines on time, did my laundry, and even tucked me in bed. I don’t think my mother ever had that kind of time to look after me.”
He shook his head, his eyes welling up. “She’ll always come before everything else.”
Ben clapped his shoulder. “Every relationship needs this. The first big fight. At the risk of sounding like my mother, believe me when I say that you need moments of conflict just as much as moments of tenderness and passion. Love is about sticking through the ups and downs, facing the challenges and overcoming them.”
The scream of fans lining the streets drew their attention. Ben put on his sunglasses, hoping it would hide the fact that they had got only forty-five minutes of sleep in twenty-four hours. It was half-past six when they arrived at the record store surrounded by flashing cameras and security personnel. Fans had been queuing up since the wee hours, hardly able to wait for their chance to meet the biggest Irish pop group in the flesh. Security was working overtime, putting safety barriers in places to control the crowd that could go berserk at a moment’s notice.
As they turned on their rehearsed smiles and posed for press photographs, Brandon kept thinking about his mother’s excitement over his upcoming birthday celebrations and how joyous it would be to get together with his entire family after months. But then his thoughts drifted to his girlfriend again. Birthdays made Isabel sad. His family’s pride over him reminded her of the things she never had. Watching him and the lads drink themselves into oblivion for fifty nights in a row broke her heart, and witnessing his show of wealth probably made her doubt her place in his life. She would never say it, but he had learned how to read the unvoiced thoughts.
Since she started college, their time together had been more frequent than it had been in Sligo. She had become their base in London, a reminder of home, of belonging, when they were apart from their families. A place to crash when they were homesick, or hungover, or craving a home-cooked meal. It was normal for them to nap in her apartment, or put beers in her fridge for later, or troupe in after an exhausting day at a video shoot to feast on her Shepherd’s Pie. She unknowingly herded them, mothered them, reminded them to take care of themselves, and packed a slap whenever needed, keeping them grounded amid the glitz and glamour.
The heaviness in his chest lingered as they took their seats at the table and prepared for two hours of signing, talking, and smiling till their cheeks hurt.
Ben and Nathan had their heads down and their arms sprawled on the table. Kyle was rubbing his eyes. Mark was trying to hide his fatigue behind his tinted glasses. Brandon checked the display of his watch. It was the time Isabel usually ate breakfast while reading a book or braiding her hair. Even without trying, he could see her long hair falling across her shoulders as she hurried around her pretty little apartment, getting ready to leave for college.
It was a fortnight since he last saw her. She was in this very city, only a few miles away, and yet, the distance between them seemed vast and endless.
“Coffee, Brandy?” Nathan offered, raising his head. Brandon stifled a yawn behind his hand.
“I’ll take a Red Bull,” he said, earning a snicker from his blonde mate. The blue-and-white can appeared in front of him, and he wasted no time in popping it open and taking a swig, hoping it could fight the exhaustion he felt in his bones.
At the stroke of seven, the gates opened, and as the queue grew longer, the space inside the store felt smaller. There were supposed to be over ten thousand people at the event, mostly women of all ages. The only men were the security people, the camera crew, and the staff of Louis Walsh management. The commotion mingled with the songs from the album being promoted, playing on loop.
Looking up from her book, Isabel craned her neck to peer around the corner. It was not her kind of place— noisy, crowded, and buzzing with giddying energy. But there she was at seven in the morning, considering herself lucky to be in line after only fifteen squealing, high-strung girls, two of whom had burst into tears at the first sight of the lads.
She adjusted her beret, returning her attention to the book. They were certainly very dashing young men, fresh-faced, unpretentious, and wholesome— yes, even the erstwhile troublemaker now propped across the table to pose with a girl in a wheelchair. Her brother had been her only friend until she met Brandon. After she moved to Sligo two years ago, Kyle, Mark, and Nathan had also become instrumental in her healing in many ways. They did not treat her like she was made of glass. She felt normal, capable, and loved around them, their sweetness, optimism, and banter cheering her even on her worst days. She was part of the bandwagon now, their dressing room antics, backstage shenanigans, and tour bus tomfoolery never ceasing to brighten her world.
Of course, life on the road had overwhelmed her more than she wanted to admit. The pace was frightening, the lights blinding, and the sight of hundreds of thousands of screaming women wherever the band travelled horrified her. But there were wonderful things about it too— like sharing a room with Brandon for the first time and their relationship finding more permanence. Like being considered a part of his life and that rollercoaster ride. Like the tingle of desire watching him sweat-drenched, pelvis thrusting on stage. Like the rush of sensation when he came backstage after a show and engulfed her in his arms, the feel of that warm, solid body enlivening her. Like the mad, hungry, all-consuming sex every day, finally being together as a formal couple, and no longer having to spend weeks and months apart.
A squeal from inside the store made her look up again. A group of three girls was about to have a breakdown coming face to face with Pentoniac’s lead singer. They hugged him a little too tight, lingering for a little too long, until a burly security person stepped in and drew them away. Brandon straightened his jacket and laughed, but it did not quite reach his eyes. Being tired and bored stiff after repeating the same drill for days was part of the reason. The other reason made Isabel’s heart bleed a little.
Fame was treacherous, and Brandon was too young and flamboyant to remain immune to its beguiling charms. She knew it was going to happen from the moment Pentoniac became the hottest thing on the block. But on second thought, a small-town lad conquering the world stage was the kind of luck most people would kill for, and it was only fair to him to enjoy the benefits of the success his voice had earned him.
Besides, he was still her Brandy— loving her fiercely, sharing his success with her, involving her in every part of his life, remaining connected to her regardless of where in the world he was, and planning for their future together. He was the reason she was still there, alive and sane, moving forward in life, chasing her dreams and cherishing independence. She hated to think that, even if for one deluded moment, her subconscious had tricked her into assuming she had reason to fear him.
And thus, she was standing in line at the store that morning, hoping to erase the friction that had suddenly crept into their relationship.
She kept her head low and her hat tilted the closer she came to the table. Kyle was on one end of the table, Brandon on the other. Two excited girls in short, leather skirts and high ponytails offered Ben the nozzle of the soda guns on their backs. Ben, never a fan of aerated beverages, obliged with a grin and drank with his mouth wide.
The woman in front of her moved along, and Isabel took two tentative steps forward, slipping the book inside her bag and putting on the sunglasses she had carried in the pocket of her coat. When the security person motioned for her to go ahead, she went up to the table and slid the CD booklet in front of Kyle.
He gave her a cursory glance before shifting his attention to the booklet. Then he paused, his wide, blue eyes darting at her face again. When she peered at him over the rim of her sunglasses, Kyle giggled, springing up from his chair to engulf her in a hug from across the table. ‘Play along,’ she whispered into his ear.
Mark looked up, so did Ben and Nathan, the three of them laughing in recognition. Brandon, seated on the farthest end, was wondering where to sign the poster handed to him when a nudge from Nathan made him look up.
He stilled, the bedlam around him suddenly fading, as if someone had pressed a button to mute the cacophony.
Goodness gracious.
Isabel, in her black dress coat with her black hair flowing out of her black hat, was a rosy vision of grace in the sea of fabricated adoration. His heart settled into a frantic dance as the urge to leap over the table, pull her into his arms, and kiss her senseless threatened to take hold.
But the exhilaration got washed away by a wave of cold dread. She was alone in the middle of thousands of hysterical fans, and if anyone recognised her from the photographs the press had made public, it would be mayhem, putting her safety at risk and derailing the meticulously choreographed event.
Perhaps they all felt the same, because a silent understanding flowed between the five men as Kyle sank back onto his chair, his detached popstar persona resurfacing. Isabel being Isabel, knew how to play the part of the rare composed admirer amongst thousands of overzealous fans. Brandon stared, hoping to catch her eye, but she kept her gaze low, her lips sealed, her hands to herself.
Kyle nonchalantly signed the booklet, before sliding it to Mark. The dimpled brunet put down his autograph, then extended his hand to her. Isabel gave her hand in his and leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Ben and Nathan repeated the act, their smiles genuine for the first time that day. The fans and the security crew remained oblivious, mistaking it as part of the show.
Nathan passed the booklet to Brandon, and as Isabel came to stand in front of him, their eyes met. She gave him a broad smile, the shimmering dazzle of that radiant face blinding him. The marker slipped from his fingers and landed on the table with a loud clatter, but he reached for it quickly, breaking into a sheepish smile. Ben and Nathan snorted, shaking their heads.
Looking down at the booklet, Brandon saw that the lads had signed the glossy paper not with their usual practiced autographs but with the nicknames Isabel had given them. A souvenir, he thought, inscribing his own name with a flourish.
He offered her his hand but instead of taking it, she leaned in, putting her arms around his shoulders. Brandon felt as though he could crumble at her touch. He wanted to apologise again for his thoughtless comments, to remind her of her place in his life, to swear that he would never let his ego flare up again. Wanted to admit how lucky he was to still be her one when she could have every man in London falling at her feet like ninepins.
But all that could wait. As of now, he was content with this stolen moment of togetherness, the warmth of her fleeting embrace and the whiff of her shampoo reassuring him that he had not lost her.
“I love you,” she whispered almost inaudibly, hoping he would not notice her voice crack. He had chosen her to be his rock on that crazy, surreal journey, and she would always be there to anchor him no matter how hard or fast the ride, never letting him slip or fall. “Come and find me when you can, big boy. I’ll be waiting.”
Brandon closed his eyes to the sting of tears as she pulled away. She tossed him a nod, picking up the booklet from the table. Their hands brushed, and for one dizzying moment, the world faded away, taking along all the exhaustion and sadness he had felt for days.
As she disappeared among the outgoing people, Brandon saw the small envelope she had left in front of him. Before the next fan could approach, he quickly snuck a peek inside the envelope.
His jaw dropped.
Hurriedly, he shoved the envelope inside his pocket and took a deep, steadying breath, shifting his attention to the booklet that appeared in front of him. Inside the envelope was an early birthday present from her, tickets to the Royal Ascot Races next weekend in Yorkshire— dress circle, no less.
A small joy, blended with relief, unfurled in his chest. They had many more gruelling hours ahead but this furtive encounter would see him through, a reminder of her unique ways of being his magic in the mundane.