The location for Thursday’s filming was like nothing I’d ever seen before. I sat in the back of the taxi beside Neil as we approached the bizarre construction. It was like a science experiment brought to life in architecture—or an alien spacecraft—and the group were planning to scale it. I mean, how? Just . . . how? It was called the Atomium and the name was apt, because it looked like a giant atom made from steel and glass.

“How did they even get permission to do this?” I asked Neil, only a little worried. I was yet to witness Trev truly hurt himself. Sure, he’d had his fair share of smaller injuries, like sprains and fractured bones, but nothing that wouldn’t heal.

“I have no idea,” said Neil, shaking his head. “Barry always seems to have the right people in his pocket.”

And he certainly did. The cast and crew had arrived at the crack of dawn to start rehearsing. It was just after eleven and there appeared to be a crowd gathered, watching the preparations. Several tourists held up cameras and tablets to snap pictures and video.

“Can you give these to Trevor? He texted earlier to ask if I could grab them for him,” said Neil, handing me a small plastic bag. I peeked inside and found an iPod, chewing gum, mixed nuts and some hand cream. I was definitely going to rib him about the hand cream.

“Sure,” I answered, though I was still a little hesitant to be around Trev. We hadn’t exchanged a single word since last night. He and the others left early this morning, while Neil and I were knee-deep in scheduling.

We got out of the taxi and headed towards the building. The film crew looked to be setting up shots while the group took a break. I was surprised to see Leanne sitting on the hood of a car with Callum standing in front of her. She held a bottle of water out to him. When he moved to grab it she pulled it away, then she did it again, like they were playing a game. Were they flirting? Seriously, you never knew where those two stood with one another from one day to the next. Both had big smiles on, but neither noticed the female crewmember filming them. Or maybe they didn’t care. It was all a part of their contract to be recorded at any time, except in certain circumstances, like if they were in a bathroom or a bedroom.

Trev, Paul and James sat on some steps chatting when I approached. I wore a loose, flower-print top with a dipped neckline and some leggings. Trev’s gaze soaked in every detail before his attention rose to my face. A tight, searing heat circled my lungs. I held out the plastic bag.

“Neil said you asked for these,” I told him stiffly.

“Right, yeah thanks.”

I rubbed my palms on my leggings, feeling awkward. “No problem. I wouldn’t want you to have to do without your hand moisturiser. That’d be a travesty,” I said, hoping the jibe might lighten the mood between us. Paul and James chuckled while Trev’s mouth curved in a slow grin.

“Well, I know you like it when they’re soft,” he said and winked.

I flushed a deep red. I should’ve known better than to go up against him. He was pretty much immune to embarrassment, always had been.

I tried to think of a snappy comeback but came up empty. Instead I went with a sassy, “Is that all? Can I get anything else for you, sir?”

Trev smirked and tapped his cheek. “A kiss will do nicely.”

Oh, he was in a formidable mood this morning. He had that twinkle in his eye that told me so.

“I think you’ll be fine without any kisses,” I said.

Trev put on a sad face. I ignored him and pulled out my phone to check my messages. I heard him let out a long, beleaguered sigh. James, who had been discussing something with Paul, asked, “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nobody wants to kiss me. I feel like such a frump.”

James chuckled. “Frump is the last word anyone would use to describe you, Trev.”

I shook my head and chanced a glance at him. He was smiling wickedly. “Then why haven’t I had a kiss in nearly seven months? I’m like Drew Barrymore in that movie.”

That was it. I couldn’t keep my mouth shut any longer. “You’ll live.”

Trev didn’t rise to my ire. Instead he continued his little act, casting an overly dramatic frown at James and Paul. “It’s really doing a number on my confidence.”

I scoffed. “Your confidence is perfectly healthy.”

“I just feel like buying a bucket of Ben & Jerry’s to drown my sorrows.”

“Oh God, put him out of his misery, Reya,” Paul begged. “If for no other reason than to end this monstrosity, whatever it is. I’m pretty sure I’m emotionally scarred just witnessing it.”

I shook my head. “Nope. I’m not giving him what he wants.”

Trev batted his eyelashes. “Would giving me one little kiss really be so awful? Am I that hideous?”

“Dear Lord, you’re a spoiled brat.”

He fake-gasped and brought his hand to his chest. “How can you speak to me like that?”

“I’ll take the hand cream back,” I threatened. “I’ll take it and I’ll empty it all down the sink.”

“Such threats. How is a boy supposed to work in an environment like this?”

Oh God. I wanted to throttle him. Instead I shoved my phone back in my bag and strode forward. I bent low, realising too late that the position afforded him a nice little glance down my top, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. His scent filled my nose and I quickly withdrew.

He practically glowed he smiled so wide. “Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

I cocked a brow. “Still feel like a frump?”

“Not at all. Your kiss has miraculous transformative qualities. I feel like a whole new man.”

I gave a begrudging laugh. Why was it that even when he was annoying the living hell out of me he still managed to make me laugh?

I caught something move in my peripheral vision and realised we were being filmed. I was relieved when I remembered I wasn’t mic’d up, but then again, Trev and the others were, and their microphones were possibly strong enough to pick up what I said.

Neil approached then and handed me a list of things I had to pick up from the shop. When I returned, Barry had gathered the group to give a talk. A pair of Ray Bans were perched atop his head and he wore a rumpled brown T-shirt. I set some water bottles and cans of iced tea out on a table for the cast and crew as I listened in.

“I want to get some footage of you lot doing a tour inside before we shoot the outer scenes,” said Barry. “The observatory pods have some great views over the city.”

When Trev spotted me he came right over. “You want to come on the tour with us?”

“Um, I’m not sure. Neil might need my help.”

“He’ll survive without you for half an hour. Come on.”

Trev led me back to where Barry was still giving instructions and a girl came and hooked me up with a microphone. “I don’t think this is necessary. I’m just a PA,” I said to her as she handed me the little black box.

She gave me an apologetic look and shrugged. “Sorry. Barry’s orders.”

I stuck the box in the back of my leggings and fell into step beside Trev. Filming had started back up and a smartly dressed woman led the group inside the building. I realised she was a tour guide when I got close enough to hear her give a brief intro into the history of the building.

I tugged on Trev’s T-shirt sleeve. “I think they’re trying to put me in the show.”

He turned his head, perplexed. “What?”

“I’ve noticed the crew filming me quite a bit the last few days. I know it was in the contract that I might be in footage, but I thought it’d be all background stuff. They have a mic on me and everything,” I said.

“That’s just how it is. Don’t worry. They need to cover all bases,” he replied reassuringly.

“I don’t know. She could be right,” Paul interjected. “Jimbo had that handheld at her gig last night.”

Jimbo was one of the crew who tagged along to my show. The news that he was recording me was worrying. Trev frowned now.

“I’ll have a word with Barry.”

I slid my arm through his and covered the mic as I spoke quietly. “You didn’t mention our history to anyone, did you?”

“No, why?”

“I’m just trying to figure out why they’ve taken an interest in me.”

He was quiet a minute, then took advantage of how I was linking his arm to pull me closer. “I can think of a reason. Anyone with a pair of eyeballs can see how I look at you.”

I stiffened and allowed my arm to fall from his as the fact sank in. I meant it when I said I had no interest in fame, not even the small amount that might come from being featured in the background of Running on Air. Though I adored attention for my music, I didn’t enjoy attention that focused on me personally. I knew it was weird. Most people made music to get famous, but I made music to touch people. I couldn’t care less about having my face plastered across magazines or TV screens. In fact, the very idea made my stomach twist with nausea. Such was the life of an introvert.

There was, unfortunately, another somewhat darker reason why I avoided the limelight. If I were to be romantically linked to Trev, the gossipmongers might start looking into my past, my family history. And I couldn’t bear the thought of them discovering the truth behind my estrangement from my parents and siblings.

“You okay?” Trev asked, noticing my unease.

My brow crinkled. “I’m not sure. Can we, um, can we talk later when we get back to the apartment? In private?” I knew there’d be no chance to talk while we were here, not with the cameras and microphones recording our every move.

“Yeah, sure. We’ll talk,” said Trev, giving my hand a meaningful squeeze as we boarded the elevator. A few minutes later we were led into a round glass observatory pod that looked out onto the city below and I momentarily forgot my worries. It was amazing.

As I took it all in, I suddenly realised exactly what this place was: a flippin’ jungle gym built for Trev’s inner adrenaline junkie, only the architects didn’t know it at the time.

“You’re going to climb this thing, aren’t you?” I said, shaking my head.

Trev peered down at me, his lips twitching. “Yes, but it’s not half as simple as that.”

“I should hope not. It’s gonna be dangerous. I can just imagine you sailing down one of those steel tubes like you’re sliding down a staircase.”

He chuckled. “You know me too well, but don’t worry. There’s been weeks of planning and practice put into this.”

I cast him a sidelong glance. “Are you scared?”

He pressed his lips together, made a show of hesitating, then gave me the most tender smile. “Nah.”

I laughed softly. “Didn’t think so.”

I heard him exhale, felt his attention on me a moment before he joined me in checking out the view. “You ever think this would be our life?” he asked quietly.

“This isn’t my life. It’s yours,” I said, a pain striking my chest, because I wished it was my life. “I’ve just hitched my rusty old wagon to your six-figure RV for a little while.”

I didn’t have to look to know he was smiling. “Sounds like a country lyric. Maybe you should switch genres.”

“I don’t have a genre, remember? Unless introverted piano lady is a genre.”

“I think I saw that one listed on Spotify the other day.”

“Ha-ha.”

We shared a look and Trev reached down to interlace his fingers with mine. I let him, because it felt nice. I realised with some surprise that I rarely ever held hands with anyone these days. It was something I did all the time as a child, but not so much anymore. I was pretty sure that the last person I really truly held hands with was David. And I wasn’t talking about a casual touch or grab, but a proper skin-to-skin intertwining of fingers. The kind between lovers. That was shocking, because David and I broke up almost a year ago. Had I not felt this sort of touch in all that time? The thought was sobering.

“You okay?” Trev asked, probably wondering if he was crossing a line.

I shook my head. “I’m fine. I just, um, I kind of miss holding hands with people.”

His eyebrows jumped. It must not have been what he expected me to say. “You do?”

“Yes, don’t you? I think more adults should do it. Why don’t we hold hands when we get older?”

Trev lifted a shoulder, his attention on me focused. “I suppose because it has a sexual connotation. Adults hold hands when they’re, ya know, doin’ it.”

I rolled my eyes at his phrasing. “Yeah, but friends can hold hands, too.”

“Did you know that Arabic men hold hands?” James put in, overhearing our conversation. “It’s a cultural thing. It doesn’t have the romantic undertones, for them it’s simply a sign of friendship.”

“Really?” I asked. “I never knew that.”

“It’s true. Because the sexes are more segregated in certain Middle Eastern countries, with men spending a lot of time with other men, it developed as a means of showing affection and close friendship.”

“You mean like human to human?” I asked.

“Basically. I read an interesting article about it once.”

“That’s kind of nice. I like that idea. We all need affection. It doesn’t always have to be sexual.”

“I agree,” Paul put in. “When I don’t get a hug for a couple of days I turn into a right grumpy bastard.”

“Aw, I’ll give you a hug anytime, shnookums,” Trev teased before his attention returned to me. He didn’t say anything, but his expression was thoughtful.

When we arrived back outside everything sped up. When I finally had a chance to catch a break, I found a place to sit and just watched the group prepare. My phone rang and I pulled it out to see Karla’s name on the screen. A smiled tugged at my lips as I reached around to switch off my mic. It was so easy to forget I was wearing it.

“Hey, Karla, how’s everything?” I answered happily. It had only been a few days, but I still missed talking to her.

“Good. The usual. How’s the filming coming along?”

“Well so far. We’re on location right now, actually. You should see the stunt they’re about to pull off—”

“No spoilers! Don’t tell me anything,” she insisted.

I chuckled. “Okay, you loon. I won’t spoil anything for you. Just know, you’re going to be on the edge of your seat. We’re at this museum, but the building is like nothing you’ve ever seen before.” I watched as the film crew shot the group running up the crisscrossed stairs within the columns at the foundation of the structure. Trev was the first to reach the top, and he began to climb towards one of the giant steel tubes. He was hooked up with all sorts of protective climbing gear, but my heart still fluttered with nerves. It really did look dangerous.

“Reya, did you hear what I said?”

“No, sorry. I got distracted. Do you know how many documentary makers get killed while filming?”

“Not the foggiest. Why?”

“I was just wondering if there was some kind of statistic to look at. I mean, you never really hear about stuff like that, but it must happen. You see all those guys who get up real close with tigers and gorillas and other dangerous animals. Surely, the tigers must freak out and attack them sometimes.”

“Trev’s not getting up close with a tiger, Reya,” she said, obviously sensing the direction of my thoughts.

“I know, but he might as well be. You should see what he’s doing right now. It’s seriously risky.”

“That boy came out of the womb doing backflips. He never stops practicing and he knows what he’s doing, so relax. What I really want to know is how things have been between you two.”

“Tense. Friendly. Different. Scary,” I answered all at once.

Karla laughed. “That good, huh?”

“I should’ve listened to you when you told me not to come.”

“I don’t know. I can be too judgmental sometimes. Maybe you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”

“You think?”

“It’s the best way to look at it. Regretting stuff is pointless anyway. You’re there now. You just need to deal with whatever hurdles come your way.”

“I’m jealous of him,” I blurted without thinking.

“Of Trev?”

“Yeah. Aren’t you?”

“I don’t think so. I never really thought about it.”

I huffed a breath. “Maybe jealous is the wrong word. I just . . . I envy him. What he has. He seems to know exactly what he wants from life. I have no idea what I want.”

“You want to play music.”

“Yeah but, is that really a worthwhile pursuit? Could I be doing something a little more productive? There was this kid on set the other day. A teenager from South Africa, and he looked at Trev like he embodied all the possibilities of his future. He’s making a difference, showing kids from shitty backgrounds they can achieve more than what society dictates. He’s like a . . . a gatekeeper to hope.”

“A gatekeeper to hope?” She sounded amused.

I sighed. “You know what I mean. I guess I’m just envious of how everything’s fallen into place for him, whereas I’m the same age and my life feels like a frickin’ bundle of knotted thread. A directionless mess.”

She seemed to be considering what I said because she was quiet a moment before she spoke. “Well, think about it this way. If your life was perfect, if you lived on a cloud, your music would be shit. Your songs ring true because you’ve endured the stuff you’re singing about, you still are enduring it. I’ve seen people connect with you on a level that’s deeper than anything Trev has ever done. No offence to him or anything. Hell, the first time I saw you perform it was like a transcendental experience.”

“You’re just saying that.” But I so needed to hear it. I wanted my music to be worthwhile. I wanted it to affect people.

“I’m not. Your music means something to me. It means something to a lot of people. They just don’t seem like much because they’re not a fixed audience of TV viewers that bring in bundles of cash, but believe me, they’re out there.”

“So I’m Vincent Van Gogh?”

“I have no idea what that means.”

“It means I’ll be a great artist but die penniless.”

“Do you want to be rich?”

“No. But sometimes I get really sick of struggling. Sometimes I just want to see a completely overpriced mattress on TV and say to myself, do you know what? I’m going to buy that mattress.”

Now she laughed. “I’ll buy you a bloody mattress if you’ll stop feeling sorry for yourself.”

I laughed, too. “I am feeling sorry for myself, aren’t I? I’m such a drippy bitch.”

“You’re doing it again,” Karla scolded, a smile in her voice.

“Yes, I am. I don’t think there’s a cure. But thank you for the pep talk. It helped.”

“You’re welcome. And Reya?”

“What?”

“Go have a good time. You deserve it. Quit worrying and overthinking things. It’s all wasted energy in the end.”

“Okay,” I said, breathing deeply. “I’ll try. And I’ll call you in a day or so. We’re taking the train to Paris tomorrow.”

“Cool, talk to you then.”