“Okay,” she agreed. Victor lingered for a moment as if reluctant to hang up, and she heard Vice’s voice just before the phone disconnected. She sat for a long time holding her phone to her ear as if it held the ghost of their voices, her heart pounding, and then she drew in a deep breath and slid the phone onto the bedside table before picking up the receiver on the landline and pressing the concierge button.“Concierge,” the man answered brightly.“Hi, I am expecting visitors in about two hours,” she said, her voice was hoarse. “Vice and Victor, my producers. Please give them a door key and let them up. I may be in the bath when they arrive.”If he found it odd that she would be receiving visitors or taking a bath after midnight, he did not let on. “Certainly, Miss Mirage.”“Thank you.” She hung up, and sat staring at her phone, its screen blank. A bath, Vice had said.She rose obediently and went into the bathroom, starting the bath whilst she used her cleansers to remove the traces
Victor was woken when his phone rang at eight am. He groaned. Less than four hours of sleep was torturous, he thought, but it wouldn’t be the first time that he and Vice had worked under such deprivation.Mirage was still out, he noted, the sleeping pill still working to keep her in the oblivion of unconsciousness, but he saw Vice’s eyes open a slit and close again as Victor moved. Mirage’s head was on his bicep, so he rolled onto his back and felt blindly for his mobile. Aaron’s name appeared on the screen.He accepted the call. “Hey.”“It is me,” Aaron told him. “I am downstairs.”“It is Aaron,” he said to Vice. “He is downstairs. I will call the concierge to bring you up,” he said to Aaron. “We will order room service. Vice and I are going to need a lot more coffee than this kitchenette holds.”“I have got go cups here,” Aaron said.“I love you,” Victor said easing his arm out from under Mirage. Vice had his arm over her, and he snuggled in closer with a sigh, which was, Victor tho
Victor had just closed the bathroom door when the doorbell rang. He admitted room service and sent them to where Aaron and Vice were both on calls. As they set out the food, he pulled the bed into order, and opened the closet, flicking through the clothing inside. Typical tour wear, he noted. Her crew would have the costumes for stage, so her closet contained two extremes – outfits for interviews and comfortable wear for around the hotel.He selected from the latter and eased into the bathroom. He sat on the edge of the bath and watched Mirage in the shower. She stood unmoving under the spray, her face tilted up into it, and he was certain that some of the water running down her cheeks were tears.He needed to keep her moving, he thought. If he allowed her to dwell, she would disintegrate. It was a double blow, he thought, to her – the threat, and the rape. He did not know how he would hold up under such a thing, but he suspected not as well as she had done so far, and certainly not a
The seating arrangement was meant to be cosy and confidential. To the viewer it probably looked so. There were fake walls on three sides to give the impression that they were in a sitting room and not a studio, and she was certain that the green screens behind the windows would be filled with a pretty garden view and the sound-track augmented by birdsong by the time the show aired.The couches were possibly the most uncomfortable ones she had ever sat upon, Mirage thought. But maybe that was in her head because of her dread of the topic she was there to discuss. Kelly certainly appeared to be comfortable on them. But Mirage was glad that Vice had selected trousers, and not a skirt, for the interview, as the angle of the seats was such that she would have been fighting to keep her hemline decent. The last thing she needed was to flash a camera whilst she was there to discuss a sex crime committed against her.The combination of clothing that Vice had thrown together was stylish, relaxe
“Yes.”Kelly snorted. “I wouldn’t be able to make the choice between them, either. I am going to grab a photo with them for my social media.” She walked over to where the men were waiting off set, getting her PA to take photos, before kissing both men on the cheeks, shaking hands with Aaron, and posing for a selfie taken by Alexei, before walking off set.Mirage decided she trusted her legs and stood carefully. She was shaking. She walked over to Vice and Victor, who slung an arm over her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “Let’s get you back to the hotel,” he said. “You have had enough for the day.”They returned to the hotel, and Aaron went to organise a room for the night. Alexei saw them to the room before leaving for another date with Mirage’s dancer, throwing Victor a wink over his shoulder. “Dancers,” he said. “So flexible.”Whilst Vice poured Mirage a bath and helped her to remove her hair extensions and make up, Victor stepped out into the hallway with his phone. During the re
Victor watched Mirage through the window into the DJ booth. She was smiling brightly at the DJ as she answered questions about her show. She wore a t-shirt advertising herself, over a pair of jeans, biker boots, and a cropped leather jacket, her hair slicked back into her signature ponytail, complete with pink-tipped extensions, and looked every part of the rockstar that she was.“She is holding up,” Vice murmured. “She is strong, our Mira.”“Mmm,” Victor wanted nothing more than to cancel the rest of her tour and take her home where he and Vice could keep her safe from the outside world that was too often cruel to her. But Mirage lived for her music, and being up close and personal, seeing the faces of her fans, was doing a lot to rebuild her confidence after twelve months of media harassment.He had taken control of Mirage’s phone and was fighting the desire to ring the burner phone number, to see if Mr Rich would answer, and then spewing some of the vitriol he was feeling towards t
Once he was certain that Mirage was asleep, Vice slipped out of the bed and retrieved the phone from where Victor had left it on the bedside table. As he returned to the bed to read through the response for himself, he saw Victor’s eyes open. Vice nodded his head in silent agreement that they would continue to shield Mirage from her phone. Victor closed his eyes again and snuggled into Mirage’s hair with a sigh.Victor had not lied. In the majority, her fans were incredibly sympathetic and supportive, and there were many messages from various media sources wanting interviews, as well as entreaties from various groups for her representation, but there were also those who used her social media to spew vitriol about women’s irresponsibility and that sexual assault was a result of dress choice and behaviour.There were several missed calls from Gabriella and Lucas, and a message from Aaron advising not to answer them and that he had told them that he was filtering calls from the record co
“Bloody hell,” Vice declared as he opened the door into their house. “I don’t think I have ever been so glad to get home. I think I am drunk off the smell of house.”“What does house smell like, exactly?” Mirage giggled.“Hmm,” he drew in a breath. “Ghosts of your perfume, furniture polish, and Victor’s gym socks.”“Hey,” Victor protested. “My gym socks are a refined vintage.”“Keep telling yourself that, whilst the rest of us gag,” Vice replied.“I smell,” Mirage stepped in. “Vice’s aftershave, and Victor’s shampoo, and staleness.”“I smell,” Victor followed them into the hall leaving the driver to unload the boot. “Vice’s toy room,” he added optimistically.“What does my toy room smell like?” Vice asked with a sly grin.“Lube, vinyl, and leather.” Victor replied readily.“Is that wishful thinking?” Vice asked conversationally as he claimed a suitcase from the front door and placed it into the front hall.“Factual thinking,” Victor decided.“Unpack, shower, food, wine, and then, I wi