Robin:
Badger has called a meeting. There's an awfulness to the atmosphere in the villa that tells me it wasn't just Jay and I who slept poorly. We've been disturbed by the fact things not proceeding how we thought they would, in our hubris. Jay would probably have something wise and prudent to say about this, but as we sit once more around the breakfast table with empty coffee cups and full bowls of cereal, nobody knows quite what to say, I don't think.
Ferret finally breaks the silence.
"Backlash," he begins.
"Always knew we'd get some, didn't think this'd be why." His fist tightens, but thankfully he doesn't slam it on the table. Really thought he might.
Badger, impressing me with his restraint, looks pointedly at Ferret urging him to continue.
"So I think I explained already or you might have figured out but I'm our social media manager and I collate all the stats. We've got a 49.9% negative sentiment for the first time ever. It's normally about 5%, so that's a 10x from the moment we invited you both on stage with us."
Badger coughs.
"Right, let me be clear, this is not your fault and you've done nothing wrong, it might just mean we're not where we thought we were with our community relations."
"Community relations?" Jay asks, raising a sceptical eyebrow.
"Previous polls told us nearly 90% of Little Leaves would support pretty much anything we put forward. Turns out, people lie on the internet."
"No doy," thanks Fox.
"It's frustrating because it changes how we need to do things." Badger says, and I wonder if he's running his band like a business rather than a band, so I ask him a classic business question.
"What are our options?"
My use of the word 'our' seems to throw everyone, all members of the band, Jay and even myself. Are we an 'our' now? Or will we have to return to who we were before because we didn't please the entire crowd just a little over half of it.
My heart sinks a little when I realise 750 million people think me and Jay are fake. I don't know these people, but they get to feel like they know me and judge me, and I can't help but take that personally.
"Two options," Badger eventually says.
"We backtrack because of the backlash, succumbing to pressure and allowing ourselves to self-censor and expose ourselves to the risk of being full-on cancelled, OR, we double down, because we know this is right and just and progressive and more important than ever and this backlash proves it."
"Hear hear!" Stoat chips in.
"Now, this is a democracy, and I want to proceed with a vote. All in favour of cancelling our plans and backtracking say Nay, and all in favour of doubling down on our belief in the goodness of human souls say Yay."
"Yay!" not a shout, but a roar, from every one of us. We all take a moment to grin at each other. We even start eating our cereal, no longer full of sadness.
"Excellent! Robin, we'll need your help on the press release and Jay maybe you can join me in addressing the backlash directly on a livestream?" Badger is all business.
Jay:
"Of course," I answer, just happy to be contributing – I mean working – again.
This lavish lifestyle feels a little bit indulgent to me and having not become a global sensation myself I don't feel like I have earned it. And chances of becoming a sensation feel like they've gone into the minus figures.
Ferret is setting up a camera on a tripod.
"You meant right now?" I ask everyone around me, starting to feel a twinge of panic and a sort of lasciviousness to the camera being stuffed in my face. It isn't surprising really, I'm just whoring with my clothes on, shilling something I may not even believe in.
A tightness clutches at my chest, how does anyone do this? Can doubt be overcome through sheer stubborn pride? Can they smell my doubt, like spiritual predators? These are not the thoughts to be having before jumping on a livestream with twice 750 million people…
"You got this," Badger says, squeezing my shoulder. "Whatever you choose to say, I trust that it's the right thing, I believe in you."
I believe I hate you sometimes, Badger. He's more like a skunk. I smile at the thought and Ferret tells me to keep that face as the camera is about to roll!
Unbelievable.
"We're live in 3…2…1…" he gives a thumbs up.
"Hey you guys, you Little Leaves we took the night and a short meeting this morning to think about how we could give a measured response rather than an immediate reaction to the reception of our gig last night. Let me start by being clear that we expressly asked not to be recorded, but I'm glad someone didn't listen to us, because now we can get ahead of our planning."
"Please remember that we're bootstrapped and self-managed. We're young, we make mistakes and won't get everything right ever, especially not now, near the beginning of our journey with you. But one thing is very clear to me. Inviting Jay and Robin to visit with us was not a mistake, and sharing my belief that their love is genuine and real – possibly immaculate – was not either."
"I have more thoughts, but I can't represent everyone with them, so I've invited Jay here to speak as well, and I'd appreciate if you'd all take a moment to listen. Jay?"
Jesus.
Shit.
Fuck.
"Hi, I'm Jay," Strong start Jay, they know you're Jay, they've been told twice now.
"It's super hard not to get defensive and at the same time go on the attack when you feel attacked, but I know what it feels like to be sending a message you don't feel anyone is hearing. I used to write to Whispersong all the time, and I needed Robin's help to illicit a response because even though what I had to say had value, I hadn't been focussed or relevant or even true enough in my messages. Robin changed that for me, and a lot more to boot, so I kept an open mind." I feel like I'm on a roll here.
"What I'm trying to say is, as a believer in free speech, I respect your right to say how you feel – within the confines of the law, don't incite hate or violence that's just straight up mean – enough that even if I disagree with you or don't like what you have to say, I'll still read it and try to understand, so write to me via the usual Whispersong channel, and tell me how I can help you change your mind about me, and about Robin, and about Whispersong's plans for bootcamp because I really think they can help people. They helped me."
I take a breath, ready to say more, but I don't think I need to.
"Couldn't have put it better myself," Badger says, and I realise he is in his slacks, no makeup or headdress or outfit. He's real. My respect for him grows.
"Everyone, thank you, especially those of you who have been here from the beginning, but as we grow as a family of Little Leaves, it's totally natural we'll take on new individuals with new ideas and new challenges to the way we do things. Diversity is about opinion too, and we look forward to hearing from you all…
PEACE!"
He hits the red phone symbol on the camera we're using to kill the feed, and I start to hyperventilate, struggling to breathe. There's only one person who can help me with this and he's back in England.
FFS! I'm probably going to die on the floor of a French villa at the age of twenty one, reaching for something nobody can see…
"Robin, ROBIN!" Badger is shouting, suggesting he knew exactly what to do if this were to happen… seconds later Robin is by my side, hands in my hands, telling me that it's a panic attack and nobody ever died of one of those, and that it's really only half a panic attack because we share them now.
It's such a beautiful thing to say that I choke on a sob instead of my own fear, and kiss Robin so hard our teeth bump together and we laugh a little.
"That's some real shit, man, that's love right there!" Stoat says watching closely whilst Fox walks away, towards the studio, the angry banging of drums ringing out shortly afterwards. I'll talk to him.
Ferret is approaching, tablet in hand, as we remain sat on the floor next to the wingback chairs where we filmed and watched the gig yesterday, out of view of the kitchen. He crouches down to show us the messages coming in.
The screen is lit up with hand emojis.
"You hear that?" he asks rhetorically. "That's the sound of over a billion people clapping, Jay, you're a hero."
"Sentiment has changed to well over 99.9% since you guys spoke just minutes ago."
He watches my face fall and knows the question that is coming next.
"So it's not 100%?"
"No, there are about 15 million people who remain negative. Would you like to know what they're saying?" he asks, and I would normally caution anyone else not to focus on the negative, but I have to know what they're saying after I got up and spoke directly to them.
Ferret filters the positive answers out.
"Interesting," he says before stopping himself from going any further.
"What?" I demand once, and then two more times, angrily, whilst Robin strokes the back of my hand.
"Well, it seems a small splinter group of Little Leaves have formed, calling themselves the Fronds, and they've told you and Robin that you need to prove your love is perfect,"
"How the fuck are we supposed to do that?" I ask, close to losing my temper.
"Well, they said you'd say that, so they've actually proposed a challenge. You two need to investigate – and fail to find – the seven deadly sins within each other through a serious of personal and documented challenges. Only if you can find each other to be without sin, will your love be deemed immaculate by these Fronds, who I strongly suggest you ignore."
I sit up, clutching hands with Robin.
"Challenge accepted," we say as one.