- You don’t happen to have anything to do with the sudden and quite dramatic opening I got on the Jimmy Gordon show, do you? - I asked Adam over lunch, the next day. According to Felix, if everything went well, my last day of shooting would be the next one and that would be over and done with, unless there were any reshoots down the road. But I was happy to be able to go back to the devil I knew.

- I don’t know what you’re talking about – he smirked, focusing his attention on his hamburger – But, hey, congratulations on your American debut.

- You didn’t have to… - I said and I felt it. I knew these kinds of favours always brought strings attached to the person who asked them.

- The only thing I did, was get a courier to deliver a certain album to a certain person, who happens to be a friend. Your talent may have something to do with the rest.

I smiled, shyly – Thank you, Adam. Just don’t bring out the fireworks yet because I might still mess it up.

- How so?

I leaned back against a planter, behind us. The concrete was cool and nice against the oppressive and humid heat of the air around us – You know… My nature screams at me to be contrary, at times. So, when people want me to do something, I will want to do just the opposite.

- Ellie, Ellie, quite contrary, how does your garden grow? – he sang softly, as if he was ashamed of his singing voice, laughing at himself – And what was The Man asking you to do, O rebellious one?

- Lip-sync – I shrugged. Saying it like that made it sound like such a petty thing to argue over.

- Oh, they wanted you to pull a Milli Vanilli? - he threw his head back, laughing – Such a capital sin!

- I know! - I raised my hands in the air, exasperated – So I just said I had a new song and I had to play it live.

- Very contrary, indeed – he nodded, knowingly – Can I have the privilege of listening to it first?

The song was a bittersweet and ironic upbeat tune about a one-sided relationship that ended with a murder-suicide. Nothing too blatant, just a bunch of metaphors and double-entendres. It wasn’t as if I was describing a killing spree of Jack the Ripper, but the content was definitely there, hidden away in a blanket of Britishness and a veneer of nice words.

- I mean, it’s a great song – he said, after I played it, in my trailer – Damn, I might just get it stuck in my head for the rest of the day. I’m just not sure the FCC will like it very much.

- Well, it is neither obscene, nor indecent – I said, as I turned off the keyboard – I checked.

- Doing your homework, I see. But was it approved by production? They can be very close-minded back home.

- There’s nothing wrong with the poem, really. Romeo and Juliet has the same line of thought and is taught at schools, isn’t it? Besides – I cocked my head to the side – Small children are supposed to be sleeping that late at night. And it’s not like it’s some Norwegian Satanic Black Metal song. It’s very poppy, actually.

- I’m not worried about that – he grimaced – Even if I have no clue what Norwegian Black Metal is. I’m just worried you might get some trouble for it.

- How can I live a rock and roll lifestyle, if I don’t make some trouble for myself here and there? Because it’s all too tame, as far as I’ve experienced it. Might as well try and rock the boat, right?

Adam and I parted ways, with the promise to meet a few months down the line, for some promo shoots, and I headed to LA with both Bear and Holly. It was my first time there and it did not disappoint, as it was sunny and warm as all those movies and shows had promised.

The boys were already waiting for me and they looked well-rested and in a good mood, which made me think that I may have been overworking them, in my frenzy to keep busy at all times. I needed to remind myself more often that it was not just me and that I needed to think about other people as well.

Even so, we rehearsed like crazy, in those following days and they understood the sort of opportunity that was presenting itself to us there. I ran a tight ship, so much so that Simon would often complain that he had joined a band, and not the Royal Navy but this time, it would be worth it and even he knew it.

Pat joined us a couple of days beforehand and the boys and I took her out to experience the magic of LA’s taco trucks. No one knew us there and it was refreshing to just act like what we were, really, a bunch of kids on holiday.

- I had the carne asada, the last time we were here – Martin was explaining to Pat, as we stood in line, subtly pointing at the menu, hanging above the truck’s ordering window – and it was amazing.

- Let Elvira choose her own taco, mate – Simon had begun this little quip with Pat, where he would address her by any other name but hers for a while now. I had no idea why or how it had begun, but it really seemed to get under Pat’s skin and, as she showed it, he just kept going at it, like a primary school punk bully – What about you, Little Monster? What are you having?

- I think I’ll go with a chicken quesadilla, this time. What do you think? - I said as we were both trying to read the menu from far down the line. I was squinting, because the bright light made my right eye unfocus a little bit.

- I might join you on that one, blondie.

- You guys have no idea what you’re talking about – Bear chimed in, from behind me. He wasn’t from LA, but he had lived there long enough to have been able to try it all before – it’s a taco al pastor con todo. Nothing else will do. Granted, it will get messy, but it’s worth it.

- I don’t even know what I want, anymore – Pat laughed.

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- You can’t go wrong with al pastor, seriously – Bear said, but was interrupted by what seemed like a fight nearby. A lot of heads turned to the source of the sound of what seemed like a lover’s quarrel. Some accusations were flying around and Simon just pursed his lips and arched his eyebrows.

- Juicy stuff – he whispered.

And then there was the dry sound of a slap that the girl planted on the boy’s cheek. He didn’t hit her back, but he grabbed her arm and yanked her enough so that his fingers dug in her soft flesh. The gesture was enough for me to feel the same thing on my arm, mirroring what had happened in that room, at Infinity Records.

- Bear… - my voice came out pleading, unsteady and he understood what I wanted, running over to the couple and separating them, trying to talk things through between them and avoiding the escalation of anything else.

But the harm was done, in my mind. I felt the burn on my arm, where those fingers had been and I could swear that, if I looked down, I would be able to see the imprints it had left, the bruising still there.

There was a wave of heat and the world shifted a bit.

- Whoa, shortbread – Simon caught me when I swayed – You alright, love?

- I’m fine, I’m fine – I said, as I backed away from his touch – I just need to get out of the Sun – I lied, as the delicious smells that emanated from that food truck were replaced by the haunting ones.

- Have some of my water, dear – Martin handed me his bottle and I obliged, taking a sip – you vampires… - he laughed, looking from me to Pat.

- I need to go back to the hotel – I said to Bear, as he was coming back, all other matters settled – I’m not feeling very well.

- I’m coming with you – Pat said, as she pulled a tress of my hair from my face.

- No, no – I said, already turning around – Please, enjoy your day out and your taco.

I couldn’t close my eyes on my way back because, every time I did, the images started pouring in, but I felt nauseous enough to want to shut them hard. And I still felt it, the grip on my arm that had triggered that spiral, the subsequent pain on my hip, from hitting the table. The scent of fear and the taste of tears and blood…

As soon as I stepped foot in the bedroom, I had to run to the bathroom, to hurl the contents of my stomach out. My chest tightened with every heave. I felt like I could die right there. It definitely looked like the world was about to end, at least, such was the panic that took hold of me.

I was even seeing him from the corner of my eye. I was so scared and my heart was beating so fast that I just wanted to get away. But where to? There was nowhere to go, nowhere where all of that wouldn’t follow me…

My legs were trembling and I was weak, when I sat by the side of the bed and just made myself as small as possible, as I was crying my eyes out. And then, it all went dark and hot.

There was a soft knock on the door, followed by a El, I’m coming in, OK?. I knew that voice, but my mind was too muddled to pinpoint it. I forced myself to open my eyes, even if it was more tiresome than running the marathon, and I saw Bear’s silhouette.

- Oh, good, you’re awake. - he said, walking over softly – The doctor said it didn’t look like a heat stroke, but you’ve been running a fever.

My throat felt parched and my voice came out croaky – I just needed some sleep.

- I am hoping 18 hours have been enough – he said, as he poured a glass of water and helped me up.

- 18 hours…?

The sound of heels came into the room.

- 18 hours, indeed – Pat was coming in the door, closing it softly behind her – You don’t need that much beauty sleep, doll. - She came over and pressed her open palm on my forehead, sitting on the bed afterwards – At least the fever’s subsided. Now we have to get you up. You have to work.

She pushed the glass of water into my hands and told me to drink up, ordering Bear to get me something light to eat, along with some lemon tea and honey.

- We were worried sick about you – she said softly, as she helped me up – You were lying on the floor, shivering, you had a fever… What happened, Ellie?

- I don’t know. Must have been the sun… – I lied. My whole body was sore and it hurt to just try to get out of bed – How long do we have?

- A few hours to get you up and running, darling. Go take a nice shower – she smiled, motherly – I’ll get everything ready for you out here.

Pat had already chosen the clothes for me to wear: an asymmetrical witchy skirt, some combat boots with fishnet tights and a holey jumper that gave out punk vibes.

She was working on my hair, and Holly was putting me up to date with everything I needed to know, but my mind was still very much vacant.

- Oh, and the bomb went off, as you know – she was referring to the piece Alan Winnick had written – and Collins has already called the police four times.

I turned my head only slightly, not wanting to mess with Pat’s work – Why?

- Photographers. They said your property lines were not clear and they had no idea they were trespassing.

- Hmm… - was all I managed to say, but my mind began running at the prospect of having my only private space invaded.

- And Mason wanted to know if you wanted to press charges. Oh – she added – and he also said that he thinks he has everything you’ll need to ask for the emancipation, next year.

- Good.

I wanted emancipation, not because I disliked or distrusted my father, but because it would be so much easier to make financial and career decisions, without having to jump way too many hurdles of legal guardianship. If it made my life easier, I was willing to do it, even if it hurt my dad. Mason had suggested so himself and, seeing as 16 was the minimum age to make such a request back home, he was working on having everything ready to hit the courts, the moment I came of age. I was already financially independent anyway, so it was only a legal matter.

Pat finished straightening my hair and was dousing it with hairspray, before heading on to the make-up.

- Holly – I called and she focused her attention on me – Ask Bear, and Jools, when he comes back, for advice on securing the estate, will you? Ask if they have any suggestions about security companies, the lot.

She nodded and took note.

- And ask Collins to set up a team of workers and start marking the perimeter, set up a gate, as well.

- Of course.

The estate was not too vast, but it was a large portion of land that had been left untouched for centuries and so, it ended up becoming a refuge for all sorts of animals that walked away from the pressure of more populated areas. We had deer, foxes, badgers, hedgehogs, bunnies and hares everything you could imagine from the idyllic Beatrix Potter countryside. The idea of building a wall and denying them asylum was not sitting right with me.

- Listen – I said, as Pat lifted my chin and started working on my eyes – I think we may need to build a wall, or something. But before any inch of construction begins, get a hold of some conservationists from the area, or something of the sort, and set up a meeting with them. I need some extra advice, before making an informed decision.

- Oh – Pat stopped what she was doing and put the brush down – I almost forgot. I got you something – and she went to her bag and took out a little coffin-shaped box.

- What’s the occasion?

She lifted her shoulder, downplaying the nice gesture – I just wanted to thank you. For the trust you have in me and, you know – she motioned around – for bringing me over to new places.

I wanted to protest but she shushed me and made me open the present. Inside, sitting on a bed of silk, were 8 jet black rings, all alike, only differing in size. They had a matte finish and a very discreet E engraved in each one of them.

- These are beautiful… - I said, as I took one and put it on, followed by another. And another. – I will wear them all at once. Thank you so much, my darling.

Pat smiled, coyly, dismissing my thanks, and picking up the brush again.

- A friend of mine made them. She has a studio, up in Marylebone. She’s also a stylist.

I admired my now adorned fingers – You have to take me there when we get back home.

Bear knocked on the door urging us to get ready ASAP because we really had to beat the traffic.

- There you go – Pat put down her brush and tilted her head, meeting my gaze in the mirror – You’re ready for your American close-up, doll.

I took a look at my own image. I needed to think of that make-up as a mask. Of those clothes as battle armour. It was the only way I could ever try and walk away from what had happened. If I wasn’t ready now, I would never be ready again. A one-off chance, take it or leave it.