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  “It is true,” I say, thinking about Riley reeling off all those times Naomi got stage fright before her big concerts. “I get nervous all the time.”

  She looks relieved. “That’s good to know.”

  “But you shouldn’t let being nervous stop you,” I hear myself saying. “You have to find the courage to be yourself and do what you love. Because if you don’t, then you’ll regret it.”

  As she’s ushered away by Riley so the next person can take their picture, I realize that I wasn’t talking to her. Not really.

  I was talking to me.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  (AS RUBY)

  It’s Beth’s idea.

  She knocks on the door on Sunday night in the middle of a nature documentary Jeroame is making us watch about bees. When he mentioned that he wanted to watch it at dinner, I was like, “HAHA, YOU’RE A LOSER,” but now that it’s on, I’m completely hooked.

  Turns out, bees are cool.

  “I’ve been thinking about the talent show,” Beth says, skipping past me and heading straight upstairs to my room.

  I follow her, Daisy tripping me up as she bounds up the stairs with us. No matter how hard I try to get rid of her, she won’t ever leave me alone when I’m in the house, so now I simply let it happen. She must be weirdly attached to Ruby. I’m getting used to her being at my side all the time and earlier, when I was sitting at the table having dinner, I absent-mindedly put my hand down to stroke her head and had a minor panic when I only felt air and realized she wasn’t sitting by my chair as usual.

  She was on the other side of me though, so all was well.

  “You’re here to talk about the talent show?” I ask, watching her climb up on to my bed and make herself comfortable, Daisy following suit. “What is there to talk about?”

  “Hello, you got into the final! That’s a big deal! We need to talk about what you’re going to do for it. We only have a week to rehearse.”

  “Beth, you interrupted a very fascinating documentary about bees,” I tell her, folding my arms. “Do you know how rare it is that I get to sit around and watch documentaries?”

  “You watch them all the time,” she scoffs, propping up my pillows. “You and Jeroame love them. Last week, you wouldn’t stop going on about that documentary you saw on hippos.”

  “There’s one on hippos?” I make a mental note to ask Simon to download all these shows on my tablet. “Anyway, I already know what I’m doing for the talent show.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah.” I shrug. “Naomi Starr’s ‘Shining Bright’. I already know the words and choreography, so it’s sorted.”

  She frowns. “Ruby, you can’t do the same song that you auditioned with! The judges will have seen it all before.”

  “So? They loved my performance on Friday. They said it was like watching a real pop star on stage,” I remind her smugly.

  “Yeah, but you’re going to need to up your game to beat Ali. Apparently, she’s been working all weekend on her routine. She asked the school caretaker if she could rehearse on the stage and he opened the theatre especially. The only time she had a break was to go see Naomi Starr yesterday.” Beth rolls her eyes. “She won a competition to meet her, which is so unfair. We’ll never stop hearing about it.”

  “Fine, I’ll pick another of Naomi Starr’s songs to perform for the final.”

  “That won’t be enough. We need to do something unique!” She gets her phone out and holds it up so I can see an email on her screen. “I sent this email earlier to the head of music asking if we could book one of the practice rooms every evening after school for the week. We can rehearse there in peace. I think Ali’s already booked out the gym hall.”

  “You want me to rehearse every evening! That’s a lot of work.”

  She looks at me as though I’m mad. “Yeah, but you love it, right? Don’t you want to win this thing? You’re going to have to work hard, so you can be the best you’ve ever been on Friday night. I know you’ve got over your stage fright now, but you can’t be complacent.”

  I’m about to protest when I stop to think about what she’s said. It’s funny, but she reminded me just then of my mum when we argue about rehearsals. I always thought Mum was nagging and annoying, droning on about my commitments when I knew I didn’t need to rehearse because I already knew what I was doing.

  But it hits me now that maybe she was trying to do what Beth clearly is – encourage me to be the best I can be.

  “All right,” I say. “I’ll rehearse every night.”

  “Great. And now I want to tell you about an idea I’ve had for the show. We have to do something different, right? Because your singing and dancing is great, but Ali is doing the same thing. So, I was thinking about how you can stand out and then I thought about the headmaster’s assembly the other day. It inspired me.”

  “Seriously?” I raise my eyebrows at her. “But his voice is so nasal.”

  “I was focusing on his words, Ruby.” She laughs. “He was talking about the importance of working as a team. It’s perfect! It’s what we need to win.”

  “I’m not following you. What do we need?”

  “We need a team.”

  I hesitate. “But . . . I’m a solo artist. I mean, Naomi Starr is a solo artist. And I’m performing her songs, so it doesn’t make any sense to have a team. Plus, the judges voted me through to the final, not a team.”

  “You think Naomi Starr is a solo artist?” Beth asks curiously.

  “I know she’s a solo artist!”

  She gets a video up on her phone and holds it so we can both see before pressing play. It’s a performance of my song “Attention Please” that I did at the Brit Awards last year.

  “See?” I point at myself in the spotlight in the middle of the stage. “Performing solo.”

  “No, she’s not. Look at all the dancers around her. Her choreography on its own wouldn’t be half as good. It’s such a good performance because of everyone on stage, not just one person doing a routine on their own.”

  I examine the screen, watching in silence until the end of the song. I feel completely thrown. Beth is right! All this time, I thought that the dancers were in the background and it was me that was the main event, but now that I really look, without them I’d look completely ridiculous! The performance would be incomplete. Their dancing complements mine and vice versa.

  Oh my God. I’ve just realized that Martin is a GENIUS.

  I feel bad now about the time I threw a doughnut at him.

  “A team,” I say slowly, aware that Beth is watching me. “We need a team. That’s how we’re going to win. It’s brilliant, Beth.”

  “Why, thank you.”

  “But how are we going to find people to help us? We only have a week!”

  “Don’t worry.” She grins. “I’ve got a plan.”

  As soon as the bell rings signalling the end of Monday, I leap from my seat, excited to get to rehearsals. It’s been a while since I’ve looked forward to a rehearsal so much and I wonder how I managed to lose that feeling.

  I wish I could blame it on someone else – Mum, Martin, Simon . . . or is it Sam? But I know that it’s all down to me becoming so wrapped up in everything that comes with being a pop star that I kind of forgot why I loved being a pop star in the first place.

  “Ruby, a word, please.”

  My heart sinks as Mr Jones waves me over to his desk before I can escape. I have tried so hard to be on my best behaviour today.

  “You can’t get detention this week,” Beth had warned me the night before. “I don’t know why, but the last few days it’s like you’ve gone out of your way to get into trouble. You’ve never had detention before, but last week you set a record. PLEASE don’t waste any of the precious evenings we have to work on this.”

  As I make my way to the front of the classroom, Beth gives me a pained look.

  “I’ll meet you in the practice room,” she whispers.

  I wait until everyone h
as gone and then sidle up to his desk, reminding myself to be as patient as possible. To be a bit more . . . Ruby.

  “Did I do something wrong, Mr Jones?” I ask timidly. “I really can’t risk detention this week.”

  “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, that’s what I wanted to say before you left.” He finishes wiping the equations off the board and turns to face me. “I’m really pleased with your work today. It seems like you’re back on track. Keep it up. That’s all I wanted to say.”

  I’m so shocked, I don’t move. “You . . . you’re pleased with my work? My work today?”

  “Yes. Your worksheet was completed very well and I could see all your workings clearly.”

  “Wow! Thank you. I really tried.”

  “I can tell. See?” He smiles at me. “It pays off when you bother to try.”

  He starts packing up and I know it’s my cue to leave, but I stop in the doorway.

  “Uh, Mr Jones, I’m really sorry about last week. I know I was acting out of character and it must have been a bit weird. I was coping with . . . a big change and I didn’t handle it very well at school.”

  “That’s OK, you don’t have to explain anything. We’re allowed to have bad days.” He picks up his bag and throws it over his shoulder. “In fact, despite everything, it was quite nice to have you speak up a bit more. I don’t think you’ve ever put up your hand in my class, so it’s good to see you coming out of your shell. Anyway, enjoy your evening.”

  It sounds stupid because it was only one lesson on one day, but I feel weirdly proud of myself as I walk away from him. It’s nice to know I did well in maths for once.

  I get a bit lost in all the corridors but eventually track down the music practice room where Beth is waiting for me, along with about ten other people.

  “What did Mr Jones want?” Beth asks, looking concerned.

  “To tell me how brilliant I am. Who are all these people?”

  “This is your team.” She beams at me. “They all want to help you win the talent show. We have four dancers and two backing singers, and everyone else is keen to help with stuff like costume, sound and lighting . . . oh! And Ollie is an amazing artist.”

  “Hang on,” I say as Ollie waves at me. “You sit next to me in class. You’re always doodling.”

  “Depending on your song choice, I have some cool ideas for the backdrop set,” he tells me excitedly, flicking through his notepad and holding it up to show some cool designs. “Beth mentioned it would be a Naomi Starr song, so I watched a few of her videos at lunch and I got some inspiration. These are all rough sketches, but you get the idea.”

  “This is amazing!” I turn to Beth. “I can’t believe you managed to find a group willing to help us in the space of a day!”

  “It wasn’t that hard. Everyone here is excited to be a part of the show, and it helps that they like you. I told you that you weren’t invisible! Did you want to give your ideas for the show first, Ruby? Once we know what you want, we can get going.”

  “You want my ideas for the songs? Really?”

  Beth bursts out laughing along with everyone else, apparently finding my stunned reaction hilarious.

  “Of course we want your ideas! Why wouldn’t we? So” – she glances up at the clock on the wall – “are you ready to start?”

  “Absolutely.” I clap my hands together. “Let’s get to work.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  (AS NAOMI)

  “Naomi? Time to wake up!”

  “Gerroff,” I mumble, swatting the air around me.

  I hear an “oof” as my hand collides with someone’s face, but they don’t give up that easy. They prod my shoulder with their finger and their voice is closer to my ear this time.

  “Naomi! We’re here. You have to wake up.”

  Disorientated, I pull the eye mask up and blink into the light.

  “Where am I? What’s happening?” I ask, yawning loudly.

  “You’re in the back of your limo, which has just pulled up at the BBC headquarters in Manchester,” Riley informs me, reaching into the armrest fridge and pulling out a bottle of sparkling water. “You have three radio interviews before appearing on a morning TV show.”

  “Oh yeah.” I stretch, remembering Sam reeled off this schedule when we left London super early this morning, right before I nodded off. “Why do I have all these interviews again?”

  “To promote your new make-up range.”

  “I have a make-up range. Cool.”

  “It launched at midnight. Don’t worry, though, we’ve had a team posting about it across social media all through the night.”

  “That’s nice of them.”

  I take a pocket mirror out of my handbag, hold it up to my face and yelp. My hair is all over the place, now with an eye mask tangled into it, and there’s mascara smudged all around my eyes. I was so tired last night that I fell asleep fully clothed face down on the bed without bothering to take off my eye make-up.

  I am ruining Naomi Starr’s flawless skin.

  “I can’t promote a make-up range right now!” I cry, attempting to pull the eye mask loose.

  “Don’t worry, your stylists and beauty team are in the car behind. We came in convoy.”

  I give up on freeing the eye mask and slump back into the seat.

  “Ril— I mean, Mum, can I ask you a question?”

  “Do you mind asking the question on the way into the building?” she says, checking her watch and getting out of the car. “We don’t want to miss our first radio interview. We’re on a very tight schedule today.”

  “That’s actually what my question is about.”

  I slide out of the car and stretch properly, pleased to see that it’s so early and my schedule today has been kept so well under wraps that there are no reporters about to get a photo of me with an eye mask caught in a knot in my hair and make-up all over my face. Naomi would KILL me.

  “I was wondering,” I continue, falling into step with her, “when do we get some downtime? You know, time to hang out with friends or play board games and stuff.”

  She looks confused. “Board games?”

  “Yeah.” I shrug. “It doesn’t have to be board games, but don’t you ever want to chill for a moment and do something as a family? I feel like I’m always working. There’s never any time to sit back and do nothing.”

  “I can schedule in some time for you to sit back and do nothing, if that’s what you’re asking. How about Friday at four p.m.,” Sam offers, a few steps behind, overhearing our conversation. “Does that work?”

  I let out a long sigh, deciding to give up. “Sure. That’s great, thank you.”

  But Riley stops in her tracks and turns to look at me. “What do you mean ‘do something as a family’? We’re always together, aren’t we?”

  “Yes, but we’re always working,” I point out, hoping Naomi won’t mind that I’m saying this. “I get that it’s important to keep the brand going, and I want to work really hard, but wouldn’t it also be fun to sometimes just . . . hang out? I feel like we don’t ever stop. Ever.”

  “That’s because we don’t.”

  “Right. Look, I love being a pop star, but I’m also a teenager. And you’re my manager, but you’re also my mum. I don’t know, it feels a bit like we’re missing out on normal stuff when we don’t need to. Does that make sense?”

  She starts to nod slowly, taking my words in. “Yes. Yes, it does make sense.”

  Suddenly, a bunch of paparazzi appear out of nowhere and surround us. I gasp, taken aback by their leaping out right in front of me, and fumble in my bag for sunglasses but I can’t find them. My bodyguard jumps into action and puts a protective hand on my back, using his other arm to clear the way in front of us, while Riley flanks the other side. I duck my head, tripping over my shoes as reporters yell a barrage of questions at me.

  “Naomi, are you going for a more laid-back look today?”; “Naomi, do you have any comment on the rumours that you fired
one of your publicists for wearing the wrong shoes?”; “Is it true you’re releasing a single inspired by the assistant who betrayed you?”

  We get into the building and I exhale, realizing I was holding my breath that whole time.

  “Are you all right?” Riley asks, concerned.

  “Yeah. Thank you,” I say to the bodyguard, who nods in acknowledgement but stays silent. “I really hate that.”

  Sam sorts our passes and then a publicist leads the way to the radio studio where I’ll be having my interview.

  “I’m guessing, Miss Starr, you’ll want to pop into a dressing room first to . . . uh” – the publicist searches for the right words – “sort yourself out and prepare for the day of interviews.”

  I appreciate her tactful way of saying “take your old make-up off, brush your hair and remove the eye mask stuck to your head”.

  She shows us into a dressing room and, as soon as she’s shut the door, Naomi’s stylist and beauty team set to work, chatting away about their lives to one another while I sit in silence in the chair, staring at my reflection. Riley leaves to speak to the producers and Sam sits behind me quietly on his iPad.

  I miss my boring life. I know it sounds mad, but since the weekend, I’ve barely had time to think. I have to constantly be on: smiling for cameras, giving all the right responses to important questions, wearing different styles every day and singing perfectly even though I’m exhausted.

  Naomi’s life is like something out of a fairy tale. I’ve never felt so happy as when I’ve been up on stage, singing and dancing to her songs. There’s nothing like that adrenaline rush when you come to the end of a song and thousands of people are cheering for you. Everything in her world is beautiful; every room I’ve walked into has been decorated perfectly and everything she owns is designer, bespoke and unique. It’s glamorous and glitzy, and exactly how I’d always imagined it.