"And you are??!" the diminutive and angry but cute woman spits as she glares daggers. If she were a dog breed she'd be a chihuahua.... or a Pomeranian. Cute to look at but as vicious and aggressive as a hyena...
"Weeze... she's with me, chill!" Jimmie tells her
"Is that smart J? She's a hack right?" the poison dwarf fires back at him
"Relax Weeze, I got this! She'll be apples!" he replies, blowing her a kiss and telling her "later boss"
"Why the fuck do I bother? Make sure you don't give me more shit to bury later J, ok!" Eloise shouts after us as Jimmie leads me by the hand to the van they are travelling in, pushing me inside with such force I land face first across the legs of Noah and Yanni. Noah shrieks with laughter but Yanni just glares, firstly at me, then turns his look of utter disgust to Jimmie before turning away to look out of the tinted window, putting in his AirPods and pulling the hood of his sweatshirt up to cover his very beautiful, mint green hair.
Jimmie helps me up and into a seat beside him, leaning over me to grab my seatbelt before plugging it in for me, not taking his eyes off of mine the entire time. I know I am blushing. I can't remember the last time a man got this close to me, and such a sexy good looking man too. Is he doing it deliberately? Is he trying to unnerve me so I can't think of any questions for them? Ha! I am nothing if not inquisitive, determined and focussed. I have never been at a loss for words in my entire life, infact my year 8 Form tutor at the all girls school I attended regularly reminded my mum at parent/teacher conferences that I suffered with 'chronic verbal diarrhoea!'
Words tend to come easily to me, but unfortunately they don't always choose the most appropriate times to pop into my mind, nor have I ever beaten the challenge to contain them until an acceptable moment.
Mute is something I've never been.
I think out loud, I talk when I'm excited, I talk when I'm nervous in new situations to cover my anxiety. I detest silence. Maybe because I then have room for thoughts I'd rather not entertain?!
"So, how come you left the event without meeting the staff like your manager said you were going to?" I ask, smiling my thanks for the assistance with the seatbelt.
"It's the only way we can ever get away from these things, otherwise we are there for hours. We just don't have the time. We're heading back to our hotel for a couple of hours, then to the airport back to Oz to begin writing our next album" he informs me with a grin.
"We are actually having a couple of months off from touring and public appearances now, today's was the last. Eloise and the label think that some radio silence will be good for us, building hype and mystery. I personally think going dark will be bad for us, making us less relevant and at risk of being replaced as the biggest group in the world, but the rest of the guys agree with Weeze. We are a very democratic group, majority wins, so off home to veg out we are going. So... what would you like to know? I'll happily give you my digits if you want them Babe!" he winks, spreading his hands infront of himself and slumping back in his seat with the most satisfied smile on his face.
I giggle and wag my finger at him while nodding, then press the record function on my phone and grab my notebook and pen. I record all my interviews. The notebook is for me to make notes of what is going on around the subject as they speak, who else is present, how comfortable they appear, whether or not they appear genuine in their responses etc... "Well, my first question is this..... how did you choose the name of the album? What's the meaning behind it?" A nice simple, unthreatening start.
"Hmm, well, we have had an amazingly successful 5 years, continuously winning awards, albums going multi platinum, smashing the chart records and all of our competition, blowing them out of the water. Our success has been sustained, and we have obliterated all rivals. Just made sense" he shrugs
"Ok, so leading on, are you confirming that there is no truth to the rumour that the album is so named as a nod to Yanni's reported drug dependence, continuously intoxicated state and subsequent stay in rehab?"
BOOM!
I love this sort of 'Good cop/Bad cop' style of questioning. Ask an innocuous question first, not something that's so boring they are offended that you'd even ask it. Something that cannot be answered with a simple one word, something that makes them elaborate, then when they are comfy... POW! In with a biggie!
Keeps them on their toes, makes my job more interesting and is another tactic I have learned gets truthful and often detailed responses from the shocked subjects. I ask a few more 'run of the mill' questions before landing THE BIG ONE. In this case I haven't actually thought of 'THE' question yet, but I'm a woman! I can speak, write AND listen all at once! I'll decide what to ask depending on where their answers lead me. Exciting..... writing on the fly!
"Woah! Babe, you're full on aren't ya! Question 2 and already right into all the gossip. You'll have to ask Yanni that question babe. So, Yanni..... care to answer Syd?" Jimmie turns in his seat and faces Yanni, as do I. I am met with the most malevolent eyes I've ever looked into. I swallow hard and feel my stomach turn over, goosebumps immediately cover my arms.
Yanni stares unblinkingly at me for what feels like an hour, but is in reality probably less than 5 seconds before removing an earbud and replying "Nope!" then turning his gaze back to the view out of the window and replacing the AirPod!
"Ohhh-kaaay!" I mutter. Hell, I'm only doing my job here, these guys have been around long enough to know that journalists will always ask uncomfortable questions. We never actually expect to get an answer, but sometimes what is not said is as telling as what is. I do seem to possess quite a talent for reading between the lines, and 'hearing' what is said during the silences.
I spin back around in my seat and see that we have arrived at the hotel. The Parkstone is the oldest, most expensive and lavish hotel in London, hosting numerous high profile functions throughout the year, and also welcoming some of the wealthiest and most famous guests. The price of a one night stay in their most basic twin room so high at around £450, it precludes most regular people from staying there, meaning the rich and famous get to relax without being bothered by riff raff.
"Sirs, we have arrived" the driver informs them.
"Cheers man, here" says Parker, handing the driver a £50 before jumping from the van, followed by Noah, then Teddi. Yanni is next to alight leaving me with Jimmie. Not one of them says goodbye. Rude. I'm actually disappointed in them.
"Well, thanks for your time Jimmie, shame we didn't get longer to chat but I appreciate you speaking to me today. Enjoy your break and good luck with the album release. I hope I get another opportunity to speak to you again sometime. Bye" I say as I move to stand.
"Syd, babe, we're not done. We have a lot to talk about, come on up to our suite and we can carry on our chat, maybe take some photos? I'm sure the other guys would love to talk to you too. That is unless you have to rush off?"
Yes!!
"Erm, nope, no need to rush off, today is in fact my day off, so I have as long as you can spare. Thanks Jimmie" I smile.
"Great! Let's go and get a drink and some tucker, I'm 'Hank Marvin', and we can continue our chat. Sound good?"
"Lead the way Hank" I reply with a giggle, and he does just that.