Then everyone’s waving their hands and shouting at once, including Ash beside me. Tape recorders click on, and flashbulbs pop. The older man (I assume it’s their manager) points at a female journo with glasses and a ponytail.
‘You’ve gone from underground clubs to playing at Wembley Stadium in just over a year. How are you handling the fame, Leo?’ she asks.
Leo, the band’s blond drummer, smirks. ‘With regular therapy,’ he quips, and a ripple of laughter erupts around the room.
Someone else pipes up, ‘Is there a reason why you always end up shirtless by the end of the third set, Leo?’
I think the answer is pretty obvious (he’s eye candy), but Leo shifts in his seat and casually replies, ‘The lights, the energy, I dunno, man. I just run hot, ya know?’
The journos nod emphatically, and a couple of the female ones use their jotter pads as fans. I resist the urge to roll my eyes.
‘Tommy, you’re the main songwriter. Where do you get your inspiration from?’
My dad straightens and looks momentarily freaked as the spotlight falls on him but then recovers his composure. ‘Er, it depends,’ he says. ‘Relationships mostly or, should I say,break-ups.’ This earns him a round of chuckles. His lips twist in a small smile, and I feel glad for him. That he’s managing to be personable. God knows he’s not in the future!
Ash is practically levitating off his chair from waving his hand in the air. God, he’s so fanboying right now. He’ddieif he knew I was actually Tommy’s daughter.
The manager nods at him. ‘Go ahead in the front seat.’
I lean away so it doesn’t look like I’m with him.
‘My question is for Tommy,’ Ash says breathlessly (of course it would be!). ‘What’s the future for Echo Ministry? Are you going to keep in line with the New Romantic movement, or will your future albums be edgier?’
‘Good question,’ says Tommy, briefly glancing at his manager. ‘I wouldn’t say we’re locked into any one format. But we do like to experiment. We want to reach new listeners, ones with different tastes who don’t necessarily like our current stuff.’
‘Cool, cool,’ says Ash eagerly, and I can’t help rolling my eyes.
Unfortunately, Tommy sees me do it, and his gaze locks on me. Probably because I’m also slouching with my arms folded and looking like I’d rather be anywhere else on the planet than at an Echo Ministry press conference.
‘What’syourfavourite song?’ he asks me suddenly. ‘Notan Echo Ministry one.’ The journos around me titter.
My eyes widen.Shit.My mind goes blank, and I rack my brains for an 1980s song. I blurt the first one that pops into my head: ‘“Never Gonna Give You Up” by Rick Astley.’
There’s murmuring and rustling as the band looks at one another blankly, and a couple of journos confer behind me. ‘Who’s that?’ whispers one of them to his colleague.
I realise then I’ve made a massive boo-boo. Shit, has that song not been released yet?
‘Never heard of him,’ says Tommy, confirming my suspicions. ‘Is he UK or US?’
‘Ah, I think he’s ... Australian,’ I say weakly.
Tommy snaps his fingers and nods decisively at his manager. ‘See, Paul, this is just the kind of eclectic listener we need to get on board.’
Oh god.
Thankfully, there’s only time for a couple more questions, and then the conference is wrapped up. I stare stonily at the floor as the manager thanks everyone for coming and hopes they can make it to the concert tomorrow night. There’s no mention of free tickets, though.
Everyone rises from their chairs and starts filing out. But before we can leave, the manager strolls over to me. ‘Tommy would like to speak to you privately in his hotel room if you’re available. He’s really interested to hear more about this Australian fellow, Rick Astley. Your colleague can go too, and you’ll both be compensated for your time, of course.’
My heart sinks. ‘Oh, we’re kind of busy—’
Ash stomps on my foot. ‘We would absolutely love to speak to Tommy privately. Wouldn’t we, Jade?’
Resisting the urge to knee him in the nuts, I grimace. ‘Yes, we would indeed.’
‘Brilliant. He’s waiting for you in room 802. You can take the lift. And it goes without saying, discretion is of the utmost importance. Please don’t speak to any of the female fans that are hanging around in the lobby. They’ve heard about the press conference, and if they find out any of the guys’ room numbers,well ... Let’s just say I don’t want a repeat of what happened in Berlin. The band needs to rest before the concert.’
We nod soberly and head out the main door, while he disappears out the side entrance.