Have you seen the Berlin Wall yet?
Did you eat any currywurst?
And most importantly . . . DID YOU MEET LEAH BROWN?
Miss you to the maximum, Penny P.
Elliot xx
From: Penny Porter
To: Elliot Wentworth
Subject: RE: THE ELLIOT REPORT
Dearest most dear of dear Elliots,
I did! I met Leah!
She was in the middle of rejecting images by François-Pierre Nouveau. CAN YOU IMAGINE? It’s like telling Vincent van Gogh, “Yeah, your painting is all right, but just not good enough for my walls.”
She’s even more intimidating in person.
How am I supposed to compete with that? But, weirdly, she was kind of fine with me just now. I’m sure it’s an act in front of Noah, though.
And no, I haven’t seen anything of Berlin. But Noah and I are going on our Magical Mystery Day tomorrow so I will tell you ALL ABOUT IT.
That sucks about your dad. Majorly. But brilliant about the internship. I knew you would rock it! And OF COURSE they’re going to love your style—you’re Elliot! You’re the most fashionable guy in Brighton!
But are you sure you can’t hop on a last-minute flight to Berlin and come out and join me?
P xxx
From: Elliot Wentworth
To: Penny Porter
Subject: RE: Re: THE ELLIOT REPORT
Dear Pennylicious,
I wish.
Elliot x
PS Actually, Vincent van Gogh did get turned down many times. He only sold one painting in his entire lifetime and didn’t become super famous until after he died.
From: Penny Porter
To: Elliot Wentworth
Subject: RE: Re: Re: THE ELLIOT REPORT
Dear Wiki,
All right, know-it-all.
Penny x
Chapter Seventeen
There’s no doubt about it: my boyfriend rocks—and it seems like he’s got just as many fans in Germany as he does in the UK. There’s as much screaming for him here as there was in Brighton. I don’t know why I’m so surprised, but it feels like the levels of Noah’s fame keep rising higher and higher, while I’m feeling more and more left behind. He awes me with his talent. He’s only two years older than me, and already he’s accomplished so much.
I remind myself that Noah is not normal. I have loads of time to work out exactly what I want to do. Being “Noah’s girlfriend” is only one part of my future.
The time between the soundcheck and the actual concert is jam-packed with pre-show interviews and photographs, a string of journalists entering Noah’s dressing room one after the other. I sit discreetly in the corner, occasionally snapping a photograph but mostly just listening. Noah’s a pro at interviews, but I suppose you would be after answering the same questions again and again. It’s a wonder that not a single journalist asks him anything really interesting. Maybe it’s the domineering presence of Dean behind him, arms folded, always ready to interfere in case the line of questioning dances too closely to delicate subjects, like his parents—or, for that matter, me.
A couple of the journalists recognize me, and, because he knows it makes me nervous, Noah is careful not to reveal too much about our relationship.
The closest one of the interviewers gets to an interesting answer is when she asks a question about Leah Brown. “So, Noah,” a pretty brunette with a hugely popular German music blog asks, “what’s it like being in such close quarters with Leah Brown after last year’s . . . controversy?”
Noah smiles sweetly. “Leah and I are good friends, and I respect her musical talent. After all, I think she got her own back with ‘Bad Boy.’ ” He winks, applying his natural charm to the situation.
“And Penny doesn’t mind?” the blogger continues, undeterred.
Dean moves to interrupt, but Noah shrugs and answers, with a slight shake of his head to let Dean know to stand down. “Of course not. Penny has nothing to worry about.”
His words fill me with a warmth that spreads from my tiptoes to my forehead. I only hope that the blogger will print the statement as is, rather than twisting his words. Either way, the important thing is that he said them, and I heard. If only Blake were here—that would keep him quiet.
Dean claps his hands together. “OK, thanks, Ruby—that’s it for this interview. It’s showtime!” The room is already a hive of activity, but it seems to pick up tempo at Dean’s announcement.
My stomach clenches in a twist of nerves, but Noah is straight by my side and grabs my hand. He promised this time was going to be different, and already it feels like it is. “Do you have your new phone?” he asks.
“Yeah, hang on.” I dig it out of my pocket. He takes it from me and quickly dials a number. After a few rings, the screen lights up with the faces of two of my favourite people in the entire world: Sadie Lee and Bella.
“PRINCESS PENNY!” Bella bounces up and down on the screen, sitting so close her eyes bulge in the camera.
My jaw almost drops when I see her—I can’t believe how much she’s grown already. She looks more like a young lady than the bouncing four-year-old I saw at Christmas. “Bella! When did you get so big?” I say, unable to keep the astonishment from my voice. “Hi, Sadie Lee!” I can hear Sadie Lee’s warm laugh in the background as she gently pulls Bella away from the screen.
“Now, honey, Noah and Penny can see us much better when we’re sitting down nicely,” she says in her slow Southern drawl. Then she turns her twinkling brown eyes—the Flynn family trait—on me. “How is Berlin, my two shining stars?”