Adam and I clicked really well from the get-go. He was very easy-going and a wonderful professional who had no qualms about helping other people out. I’ve met other artists, from all walks of life, who were really holding on to their own place and fame and had no problem in gatekeeping everything they knew, so no one could surpass them.

But Adam was never like that and he understood that a person can only grow, professionally and personally, if they can be selfless enough to lend a hand to those in need.

We ended up bonding outside the studio as well and even went to see a show together.

- So, when can we expect your big American debut? - he asked, when we were in the middle of the crowd, just waiting for the concert to begin.

- Whenever people want me here, I’ll drop by – I smiled, as I put some earplugs on.

- What are you doing? - he frowned, at the gesture. Who could be lame enough to wear earplugs, right?

- Protecting the family jewels – I said and he let out a very loud laugh that made everyone around us turn their heads – What? I don’t want to go deaf before I’m 30. Hearing damage is irreversible.

- Beethoven was deaf – Jools shrugged, beside me.

- Yeah, well, Beethoven was a genius. I’m just… me and barely scraping by. - I waved my hands, like they were plates on a scale – It does make a difference.

Every single day felt like a brave new world and it was useful, to an extent, to get my mind out of the eternal fishbowl it kept swimming in. I needed to focus and to become another person and, despite the fact the nightmares were always waiting when I laid down to sleep, as the faithful companions they were and still are, the depersonalization helped a bit.

Adam and I always had lunch together because, mostly, we were shooting together as well. So, we sat outside, in the shade, and enjoyed those little relaxing moments. It also gave both Jools and Holly the chance to walk away from me for a little bit and I knew just how much they appreciated those moments, as I can be a difficult person at times, even more so back then, especially when stressed out.

- Can I ask you a question? - Adam asked as I was sitting down on the ground next to him.

- Of course – I crossed my legs and opened the plastic container Holly had gotten for me, from the catering area.

- Why do you always walk around with your bodyguard? I mean, I can understand your PA. You have other things to worry about. But why Jools?

I did not lift my eyes from my lunch and picked around with the plastic fork, not really all that interested in it – Well, it’s his job, isn’t it?

- Well, yeah. But it’s not that normal, is it? – he chewed on something from his own lunch – Did you, like, have any bad experiences or something?

I just shrugged, as I finally stabbed a water chestnut and bit into it. I really did not want to delve deeper into that conversation. It was a swamp I was not willing to go into.

- Like, with fans, or something?

- Fans are harmless. Most of them, anyway. It’s not like they’re willing to tear me apart, regret doing so and eat up the evidence in an act of desperation.

Adam’s fork stopped, halfway to his mouth, as he hesitated and put the chicken back in the container, twisting his face with disgust – What the fuck…? - he looked down at his food and heaved a little bit, before putting the lid back on – Don’t mind me, I was just trying to have lunch, thank you very much…

- I’m sorry – I said, as I kept on eating – But it’s safe to have the chicken. Humans taste like pork. Or so they say – I grinned, realizing that he was much more squeamish than I had anticipated.

He covered his ears and spoke louder – I don’t want to hear! I’m not listening to you, you freak.

I chuckled and had another portion of Holly’s delicious choice. She always seemed to know just what I liked best.

He looked at me carefully, trying to assess if I was still on my tirade on cannibalism and, seeing as I was eating in silence, looked back at his own food, decided against it and put it aside.

- You’ve ruined my appetite – Adam crossed his arms, like a toddler throwing a tantrum – You made me waste food.

- You’re such a baby – I chuckled – Go on, have your lunch. I don’t think Blake’s going to let us leave early today.

- Eh, you’re probably right – he sighed heavily before opening the container once again – But, seriously, is Julian with you 24/7?

Back at it again. Why couldn’t he leave it alone? – If I ask him and he agrees to it, I don’t see why not.

He tilted his head, knitting his brows hard. I could see he was hesitating at getting out into the world the words that were firing away in his head – Someone hurt you, didn’t they?

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I put my plastic cutlery down – I’d rather not talk about this anymore, alright?

Adam bit his lip and looked away, to the comings and goings of a busy studio, as if deep in thought – If you ever want to talk about it…

I felt the familiar shiver up my spine that said I would be curled into a ball in no time – Just leave it alone, will you? Please.

- But…

I got up. It was instinct. I couldn’t just sit still any longer – I said, leave it alone. Please respect what I’m asking of you.

He reached up and tried to grab my hand, and I panicked, spilling the rest of my lunch all over the ground – Don’t touch me! - It came out so much more commanding than I had anticipated – Please, don’t touch me – I said again, as I turned away and made a beeline back to my trailer, closing and locking the door behind me.

More than a year separated me from what had happened and I was trying my best to build the thickest and highest walls around it and still, they came tumbling down with the flood that was clearly stronger than them, exposing all the throbbing rawness of that open gash on my soul.

I paced around the trailer. I couldn’t crumble down, not now, not today and not until the end of all of this, so I picked up my headphones, went over to the keyboard I had brought with me and started playing from memory some pieces I had been working on. Some pieces that were already coming together and that I had big plans for. I refused to go down for once.

I left the trailer about an hour later and Jools was sitting on the steps, reading a magazine.

- I’m sorry, my dear – I said, feeling guilty for forgetting about him.

- No worries, chook. Adam said you might need some time – he closed the magazine and handed it to me – You alright?

And I just shrugged, because what else could I say to him?

Jools and I walked into the lobby of the hotel I was staying in, at around 10pm. We’d had a late dinner, after a long day and I was ready to just take a shower and salute my demons when we spotted Adam in the lobby. He was clearly waiting for us, as he got up and walked over.

- What are you… - I started asking, but he tossed a beanie at me, which I grabbed. He had bought it at the merch booth of the concert we’d attended, just a few days prior.

- El, Jools – he greeted – Let’s go.

- What? Where?

He grinned – Therapy – and walked past us, not looking back to see if we were following him.

Outside, his car was waiting, a cool looking Pontiac Firebird which I guessed was probably from the 80s.

- Jools, I think you may need to ride shotgun, so the lady can go safely in the back, right?

- Wait, wait – I said, trying to get some sanity into that conversation – where are we going, really?

- I already told you, therapy – he opened the passenger door and pushed the front seat forward, motioning for me to get in.

We drove out of town for about an hour and Adam chatted happily with Jools along the way. He seemed to be in good spirits, despite what had happened between us earlier.

We stopped by what looked like a junkyard and a rough-looking man was standing by the gate.

- What on Earth… - I asked, but got no answer, as Adam got out and went straight to the man and handed him what seemed like a rolled-up wad of money. Whatever it was, it had been previously agreed upon.

- Come on, compadres! Don’t be shy – he was beaming as he came back to the car, leaning on the open door – we’ve got some business to settle.

Jools just shrugged and got out, helping me get out of the back seat. Adam was already by the boot, with his hands on his hips.

- What’s going on here, Fairchild? - I asked – Are you going to kill us and chuck us in the compactor?

- Such a wild imagination on this one – he smiled and he pointed his chin to the boot and both Jools and I took a peek, to see three baseball bats, heavy-duty gloves and safety glasses.

- So… You’re going to shatter our kneecaps, then every single bone in our bodies and THEN chuck us in the compactor?

- Yeah, sure. But safety first, right? - he tossed his hands up – should I also give you cement shoes?

- Nah, we’re in Florida, mate – Jools crossed his arms – No need for cement shoes. Just cut us into little pieces and dump us in a swamp. The crocs will do the dirty work for you.

Adam laughed, as he handed us a bat each, followed by gloves and glasses – Like calls to like, I see.

Inside the junkyard, some heavy-duty floodlights were turned on and the whole thing looked like a stage at prime time.

He went in ahead of us, his baseball bat over his shoulders, with a very cool strut. There were some beat-up cars lined up on the ground and the man was also there. He just said all yours, and went back into what looked like a shipping container, closing the door behind him.

I looked over at Adam, still wary of that dodgy deal he had prepared for us.

- Lady! Gentleman! - he shouted dramatically – Safety first! - he pulled his glasses over his face and adjusted his gloves. He walked over to one of the cars – Therapy, baby! - he growled and swung his bat at full speed against the passenger window of the car, shattering it.

I opened my mouth, at Jools who just shrugged, smiling – I mean, it could work…

- Jools! That one’s all yours, you big, bad, beautiful Aussie! - he shouted, amidst his destructive fury – El! - he stopped and pointed his bat at me – Just wreck it.

I slowly took about ten steps, to the nearest car. The bat felt heavy and weird.

- Hit it, girl – I heard a soft voice coming from behind me – Bash his fucking teeth in.

With those words, the usual images started their danse macabre in my mind. I closed my eyes and saw Webber buttoning his trousers and I winced.

- Hit it hard where it hurts the most and make him beg for mercy – Adam purred by my ear.

I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with air and just let it happen. Maybe from afar it looked ridiculous but, for me, that really was a way of getting it all out and I felt the rage I had been suppressing for so long, so much that I can’t even remember how many times I hit that poor car. All I know is that I ended up out of breath, feeling the sweat dripping down my back, my hair filled with little shards of glass and a steady stream of tears clouding my vision. I let the bat fall to the ground.

- Can I give you a hug? - Adam asked me. I looked at him and his dark eyes reassured me. And how I needed a hug. I had been needing a hug for more than a year, a gesture that would tell me it would be alright, so I gave in and nodded. He reached out and flicked a few bits of glass from my hair, before opening his arms.

I leaned my forehead on his chest and he wrapped his arms around me, at first very softly and then really embracing me.

- I don’t know what happened and I don’t know if it will ever be OK – he whispered – But, for what it’s worth, I am your friend and I will be here for you, if you need me.

And that little effort he made that night, those little words of comfort that he did not need to have for me, told me Adam Fairchild was a friend for life. And he still is. Apart from a little snag, sometime later, he is the person I know will be there for whatever I might need and, along with Peter, one of my oldest and dearest friends, whom I know I can trust with my life.