I raise my eyebrows in surprise. Leah?
No? I didn’t even know she had stage fright!
Oh yeah! I read about it in an interview with her in Teen Vogue. She didn’t go into a lot of detail, but you could tell just from the short snippet that it was a big deal for her.
I think of how Posey’s face lit up when she saw Leah Brown’s album cover in my room and found out I knew her. And if she—only the biggest female pop star of the moment—once struggled with stage fright too, then maybe there is something I can do to help.
My fingers itching with excitement, I open a new window to compose an email. I write to Leah.
From: Penny Porter
To: Leah Brown
Leah!!
Hope you’re well. I saw your pics on Instagram of your Australia holiday—it looked amazing. Jealous much?!
Things are pretty same old, same old (still no news from Noah—don’t suppose you’ve heard anything?) but I do have a favour to ask . . . I’ve met a friend here who’s studying to do musical theatre. She has an amazing voice but also suffers from terrible stage fright. I heard you went through something similar . . . Is there any way you can give me some tips to pass on?
Love and huge hugs,
Pen xxx
Chapter Thirteen
When I wake up in the morning, I roll over onto my tummy and grab my phone from where it’s been charging on my bedside table. It looks like it’s been busy overnight. There’s a message from Megan that just says “Call me,” a ton of notifications letting me know there are comments on Girl Online, and also an email reply from Leah. She’s several hours behind in Los Angeles, so she must’ve had time to reply overnight. I open that first.
From: Leah Brown
To: Penny Porter
Hey!! So great to hear from you! No news from N I’m afraid
Actually, I can do you one better than just tips. I’m gonna be in London on Saturday, recording with one of my favorite producers. Why don’t you and your friend drop by? I’d love to see you and help if I can.
L xxx
It’s even better than I could’ve hoped. I roll over to the other side of the bed and knock five times on the adjoining wall between my bedroom and Elliot’s, part of our code for when we want to get each other’s attention—it’s even better than a text message. When he doesn’t reply right away I knock again, even firmer this time. Finally, I hear two lazy knocks back. I check the time. It’s ten a.m. It’s not too early to be waking Elliot, but I know he still might be a bit grumpy when he comes round.
I throw on my comfy towelled dressing gown, clip up my knotted bed hair, then write her a reply.
From: Penny Porter
To: Leah Brown
Yesss!! Can’t wait to see you. And thank you so, so much for this. On such short notice too. Did I ever tell you that you’re the best?
P x
Then, I have someone else to tell. I check my WhatsApp and see that she’s online, so I send her a message.
Posey, hey!
Hey Penny! That’s so weird . . . I was just thinking about you
SNAP! In fact, I have something to ask you. Are you free next Saturday morning, 10ish?
Uh . . . you have me worried now! But yes, I think so! I have rehearsals in the afternoon, but before that is fine. Why?!?
You may think I’m kind of crazy but I want it to be a surprise. I think I might really have found someone to help you with your stage fright. Meet me outside Victoria Station at 10 next Saturday?
Penny . . . it’s really nice of you to want to help me, but I’ve tried what feels like everything to get over this. It might just be better for me to accept that this is my reality. I can’t do it, and I won’t ever be able to
I pause for a moment, not sure how to respond. I can recognize in her words all the familiar feelings I get when I am overwhelmed by anxiety—the idea that nothing will ever change, and that I will never be able to live a normal life because of it. For Posey, I know it must be even worse, because the thing she loves doing most is also the source of her biggest anxiety. But if my therapist has taught me anything, it’s that it’s always worth trying.
You could be right. But if you’re still willing to try, will you meet me?
There’s a long pause from her this time, and I stare at the word “typing . . .” that’s appeared underneath her name, waiting for the reply to come.
OK, let’s do this. It can’t get any worse, right?
:D Yay! I’ll see you then
“What’s the big news?” It’s Elliot, framed in the doorway of my bedroom. He’s also wearing a dressing gown and slippers, bleary-eyed and with his hair sticking out all over the place. He very rarely lets anyone see him like this, but he looks so adorable. He bounces down onto the bottom of my bed.
“Leah’s coming to town next week! Pegasus Girl told me that Leah had stage fright once, so I’m going to take Posey to meet her.”
“Only you have a world-famous pop star willing to help you out at the drop of a hat,” he says, with a wink. “What does Megan think about all this?”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“Well, she’s going to kill you if she finds out you’ve arranged for someone else to meet Leah Brown before her.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Oh yeah . . .” I think about her blunt message: “Call me.” But there’s no way she’d know that I’ve arranged to meet Leah already. It must be about something else. “What if I invite her along? Then she won’t hate me.”