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afternoon. On the flight from LA he had chatted with the others, ignoring him, and had barely caught him for a word even after the explosive success of their show. What had changed?
    He knew what. It was that Kristin had insisted on tagging along. Scotty had told her no but she’d gone on and on, and in the end he had been forced to capitulate. How could he not? There was no way he could arouse suspicion, especially after the other week’s disastrous sexual episode. The fact was he didn’t want to make love with Kristin. He’d never wanted to make love with her. When he saw her body,he was cold—and she knew it. There was only so long he could stall the process before she started asking the questions that mattered.
    Fenton needed time together; Scotty got that. He needed it, too. Tokyo had been the perfect opportunity to release their urges, and then Kristin had ruined it all.
    ‘Would you say that success has strengthened your friendships or challenged them?’ A journalist stood to deliver the question, holding out her Dictaphone.
    ‘Aw, we’re all buddies!’ Doug enthused. ‘It’s another family, we’re just like brothers, so, yeah, some days we fall out, but nothing serious…’ He jostled with the others. Scotty made a good fist of joining in but it took every ounce of will he had.
    It was such a mess. The label was to blame, deciding that Scotty and Kristin would make the perfect couple, and who cared if Scotty actually wanted to or not? Kristin was like his sister, he felt nothing sexual for her whatsoever, and, while they had shared history and of course he was fond of the girl, that was strictly as far as it went.
    Fenton had broken off their secret affair in accordance. If the matter were ever discovered there would be outrage, and four traumatised band members and an army of hysterical teenage girls would be the least of their worries…for Fenton had signed Scotty when he was sixteen, and the industry wasn’t to know that they hadn’t begun sleeping together until two years later. That spelled interference with a minor. But Scotty knew it was more than that. Fenton thought that Kristin would turn him, that after everything he’d wind up finding happiness with a woman. Scotty had asked himself the same. Who knew, maybe if he liked girlsafter all, wouldn’t that be so much easier? But he didn’t. He never would.
    And he hadn’t got over Fenton. He would never get over Fenton. He was in love. The snatched nights they shared, so few and far between, were the hours he lived for. Several times Scotty had suggested they jack it in, Fraternity, their careers, and run away, but Fenton couldn’t. Scotty had his whole life ahead of him, he said: what was he doing anyway with a forty-three-year-old man with a gut and a reliance on hair plugs? Scotty was beautiful, Scotty was his angel, and sooner or later Scotty would wise up and move on. He knew that was how Fenton saw it, and however many times he reassured the man that it was him he wanted, hair plugs and all, insecurity and self-loathing eternally got in the way.
    Worse was the fact that Fenton refused to let him split from Kristin. You need a girlfriend, Scotty. I don’t have a wife. Don’t get caught up in that rumour mill…
    ‘We’ll take a question from the back,’ directed Fenton from his chair at the side of the panel. ‘The woman in the grey jacket, please.’
    ‘Scotty, I’d love to know: is there a wedding on the cards for you and Kristin?’
    Scotty was so deep into his thoughts about Fenton that the rehearsed response failed to trip off his tongue. ‘Er,’ he stalled. ‘No. Absolutely not.’
    The woman seized on it. ‘Trouble in paradise?’
    ‘No, we’re very much together.’ Pull it back, Scotty, you’re good at this . ‘We’re both so busy at the moment, but that doesn’t change the fact we’re totally in love. Who knows, maybe some time next year.’ He flashed the Valentine grin. ‘If she’ll have me!’
    Everyone