By the time I reach Dylan’s house, my foot is really starting to hurt. There are a few cars outside his house, as always (a few belonging to him and a few belonging to staff). I’m relieved when Mitch answers the door immediately.
‘Hello, Mia, how are you?’ he asks considerately.
I raise an eyebrow. Mitch isn’t all that friendly to people he doesn’t deem important, which must means he thinks I’m one of them now. I suppose a drunken RTA was my initiation – I’m in the club now.
‘Not too bad,’ I reply. ‘How’s Dylan?’
Mitch smiles his best fake smile.
‘Come in,’ he says, ignoring my question.
Mitch shows me into the living room where a shirtless Dylan is lying flat out on the sofa, his chest bare so the world can see his bruises. His body is a mess, just like mine.
‘Dylan, I’m doing everything I can,’ I catch Charles, his publicist, explaining to him as I approach them.
‘Do better,’ Dylan insists. ‘The press are having a fucking field day with this.’
‘We’ve issued a statement saying you weren’t driving – so has Finn, for all the good it’s going to do him. People love to give successful people a hard time, you know this.’
‘What about the tree people, are they still going?’
‘Well, yes, some activists are still upset about the damage to the tree,’ Charles replies. You can tell from his voice that he thinks it’s ridiculous, that people are upset about a damaged tree when four people could’ve lost their lives if the accident had been worse. ‘Forget about that for now. You were in a 2.5 tonne car – whatever it hit was going to be damaged. Be thankful it was just a tree, Dylan, seriously. I’ll arrange for you to plant some in the New Year.’
‘Hi,’ I say, interrupting.
‘Mia,’ Dylan says, carefully pulling himself to his feet before hugging me. He’s cautious of his own injuries as well as mine, hugging me gently, but I can feel the comfort he intended.
‘I’ll leave you two alone,’ Charles says.
‘How are you?’ he asks, nodding towards the sofa. We sit down together.
‘Not too bad. The drugs they prescribed for the pain are pretty great,’ I laugh.
Dylan frowns.
‘Yeah, they wouldn’t let me have any,’ he tells me. I look at him, shocked. Why on earth wouldn’t they give him pain relief?! ‘Because I used to… self-medicate.’
Oh, right. I supposed if you had a drug problem before, any drugs will be a problem in the future – especially drugs that are as habit-forming as strong painkillers.
‘It’s OK,’ he assures me, raising his glass. ‘Dr Jack Daniels is helping me through it.’
I’m not sure self-medicating with alcohol is any better than doing so with drugs, but now really isn’t the time or the place.
‘I can’t apologise enough, man. Seriously. I wish I’d never invited you.’
‘I know,’ I tell him. ‘Please stop apologising.’
‘We’re fucking friends now, it’s beyond the author/subject bullshit. I care about you, man, I feel sick that I put you in danger.’
‘I care about you too,’ I assure him. ‘I don’t blame you at all. I blame Finn, and he’ll get what he deserves.’
‘I hope they put him away, teach him a lesson. Although he’d never last in prison, would he?’
‘Anyway, how about some work to distract ourselves?’ I say brightly.
‘Right, let’s get this over with,’ he says, topping up his glass before making himself comfortable.
‘OK, so… your brother. Neither of you has ever spoken about what went on there, so… care to share?’
The only thing the general public knows is that Dylan and Mikey had a falling out, which ended both their band and their relationship. No one knows why, and if Dylan were to reveal why in this book, it would pretty much cement its bestseller status.
‘Everyone knows my marriage went to shit. I suppose I’ll get into that next time – I can’t do both today,’ he tells me, which is understandable. ‘So that relationship was short and wrong – it was hardly even a relationship. I married her for the wrong reasons. I didn’t really do girlfriends – not my own at least,’ he laughs.
I know those feels. I remember when I ‘didn’t do’ relationships.
‘The point is, I’m having all this casual sex. I – and I admit this – don’t always treat birds all that well, so when I do meet a bird I like, I treat her like a queen. Like, look at me and you, man, we get on so well. I’m not gonna shag you and then show you the door.’
‘Thanks,’ I laugh, like he’d even get the chance, but I appreciate the gesture.
‘So, I meet this bird years ago and the first thing she does is insult me. It’s great. She’s like one of the lads so we become best buds really quickly and things stay this way for years.’
‘Nicole?’ I ask.
‘Yeah,’ he replies, surprised. ‘How did you…?’
Suddenly, everything makes sense. I’m not even sure I need Dylan to finish the story.
‘You’ve mentioned her a few times already,’ I tell him.
‘After my divorce, she saved my life. I left Crystal – that was her name – not too long after the wedding, around the time Nicole had broken up with her boyfriend. She was seeing – do you remember Two for the Road?’ he asks.
I wrack my brains but the name doesn’t sound familiar. I shake my head. Probably something else I missed while I was in LA.
‘They’re another example of bands getting too big too quickly, going off the fucking rails like Ganzás. So, Nicole and Luke, the drummer in Two for the Road, had this will they/won’t they shit going on for months before they finally got together. She’s a fucking angel, man, he didn’t deserve her. She helps him through his Charlie problem, gets his career back on track, and then he goes off on tour, gets addicted to smack, cheats on her. Swear to God, I wanted to murder him. So I leave Crystal and the kids, she leaves Luke, we’re both in the shit at the same time – we decide we’ll go on holiday together.’
‘It’s nice that you were there for each other,’ I tell him.
‘Yeah, it was fucking awesome. We did a sweet road trip across America. We flew to LA, first class, which means an open bar and a comfy bed. We didn’t really know where we were going but we hired a convertible Mustang and just set off. We hung around Hollywood for a while. Man, that’s a weird place – well, you’ll know, you lived there.’
‘It’s definitely its own thing,’ I reply.
‘We just didn’t feel like we belonged there so, after we saw the sights, we hit the beach. It’s just like it is on TV. Some local hippy told us we had to “cruise Route 1, dude, it’s so sweet”, so we headed north, and even though he was super-high, his advice was spot-on. You gotta do that drive – that Route 1 is something else. It’s like if Dover was awesome. It’s just miles and miles of amazing views, and when you get to the end, San Francisco just kinda rises out of the mist.’
‘Sounds incredible, I’m so jealous,’ I admit.
‘The last night there was so chilled-out. We went for dinner and then we took one last late-night stroll, just chatting and admiring the view. And I don’t know why I did it – I wasn’t really thinking – but I kissed her, just out of nowhere, and she kissed me back, and I felt this part of my brain turn on, like a part that had never been accessed before. That kiss, it was like a punch in the fucking mouth, it was incredible. We went back to the hotel, kissed some more, and then we started taking each other’s clothes off. No word of a lie, Mia, I was shitting myself.’
‘Why?’ I ask curiously.
‘Honestly, I’d never had sex sober before, not once – and I feel like an arsehole saying this, but I’d never given a shit about the other person, so long as I was happy, and then there I was, stone-cold sober, with my best friend. The pressure was unbearable. But we did it, and it was amazing. I woke up holding her the next morning and, just looking into her eyes, I saw everything about my life before Crystal that I missed. When I’m stressed I can’t make music, but this woke me up, I was straight on the phone to Mikey, telling him we’ve got to get to work on the new album as soon as I’m back.’
I don’t say anything, I just listen attentively.
‘I don’t think we were back in London twenty minutes before we see a copy of the Daily Scoop. They’ve got pretty much every bird I shagged while I was married dishing the dirt on me. I saw Nicole reading it and I just saw this sadness all over her face – I swear to God, man, like she was disappointed in herself for sleeping with me. But then she just laughs it off and tells me I never change, and that she’d never expect me to change. So our relationship is a nonstarter as far as she’s concerned.’
‘So, what did you do?’
‘I fucking changed,’ he tells me proudly. ‘I ain’t stupid. I just realised that I’m in love with my best friend – no messing around, I cleaned up my act. I quit getting pissed, I quit shagging birds, I get the band back in the studio and we make the best fucking album we’ve ever done, and it goes straight to number one.’
‘Dylan, that’s amazing,’ I tell him, my smile beaming. Then, of course, I remember that this story all goes wrong at some point, because here we are.
‘None of this shit was quick,’ he tells me. ‘Months later we’re in Manchester, I think… maybe Liverpool. They call the band for a sound check but Mikey is nowhere to be seen. So I go to find him. I check the dressing room and I hear him in the shower, and when I go into the bathroom to tell him to hurry up, I hear him making these noises… Thinking he’s up to no good, I whip back the shower curtain and there he is, with Nicole.’
Dylan exhales deeply.
‘Shit, Dylan, I am so sorry,’ I tell him.
‘So, I hit the roof, man. I mean, walking in on the girl I love with my brother… fuck me, it hurt. So I’m going mad and they’re telling me they’re in love, they don’t understand why I’m upset and why I’m not happy for them… I stormed out, never spoken to either of them since.’
I pull Dylan close, hugging him as tightly as I can without hurting him.
What a heartbreaking story. It’s such rotten luck that, the second he opens his heart, someone destroys it. I mean, I can see things from Nicole’s point of view too – I’d probably feel the same in her position, like Dylan was just being Dylan. He just missed his chance and it seems like he’s worse than ever now.
‘Was it this stuff that started the chain of events that landed you in rehab?’ I ask.
He nods. ‘And Mikey, perfect little Mikey, he’s the favourite child, so the family are all so happy for him. No one understands why I’m upset… I got pushed out. So it’s just me now.’
‘Listen, I completely understand,’ I tell him. ‘I didn’t do relationships or feelings either. I was just lucky enough to let the right person in at the right time. And as for families, I’m the second-favourite child – of two children – so I get it.’
‘But you’ve got your fiancé and you’ve got your family.’
‘Just about,’ I admit. ‘Feels like they’re both hanging by a thread at the moment. If I don’t show up for this family party in a few hours, I’ll be disowned for sure.’
‘Family party?’ he asks.
‘The annual family Christmas party,’ I tell him. ‘It’s this big, phony gathering of all our family and friends. It’ll be shit.’
‘Well, I don’t have any family, and I don’t have any friends,’ he says.
‘You have lots of friends,’ I correct him.
‘No, I have lots of hangers-on. Look at my “friends” – they’re just people who work with me, or people who’ll happily get off their fucking nut and drive me into a fucking tree.’
I squeeze Dylan’s hand.
‘I’m your friend,’ I tell him. ‘I am. In fact, why don’t you come to the party tonight?’
‘What?’
‘I told you, it’s for our family and friends, and you’re my friend. It will be shit, I’m warning you now, but you should come.’
‘OK,’ he says, cheering up. ‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome,’ I tell him. ‘Did I mention it will be shit, though?’
He laughs.
‘Thank you for giving a fuck about me,’ he tells me. ‘It’s been a while since anyone did that.’
Dylan pulls himself to his feet and heads upstairs to get ready – he wants to make sure we’re not late. I actually think he’s excited.
I wonder if I should call ahead and let people know he’s coming. I don’t just think it will do Dylan good to go to a non-showbiz party, but it will do my family – and Leo – good to meet the person I’ve been spending all this time with, and to realise he’s not the monster the media make him out to be. Sure, he’s got his issues, don’t we all, but if he truly cleaned his act up before then he can do it again. He just needs the right support. I get how he feels, I completely do, because when I was alone in LA it was easier to go on a bunch of dates than it was to accept that I had no family around me, and no real friends. It’s hard to make friends as an adult – no one warns you about this growing up. That’s why so many people stick with their childhood best friends, I think, even when their lives go off in different directions, because making a friend you can trust as an adult is so hard.
I think I’ll keep Dylan a surprise and just turn up with him. I think everyone will like that.