Always Coming Back to You

Chapter One

Chapter One

May 19 2023

Miles was woken up by his phone buzzing. Sixth sense told him it was from 'her' and he should ignore it, but he knew he couldn't. It could be his mam or a friend, or someone who needed him. It might have even been Dora cancelling tonight, and a part of him wouldn't mind that.

He stuck his hand out of the duvet and took his phone from the bedside cabinet. Surprise surprise....an Instagram direct message from Iamlouiseverneuil. Miles was tempted to delete, but he couldn't resist his spats with her.

Sitting up in bed, he opened up her message. It was a video clip taken from her sun-lounger. The blue sea twinkling in the sunlight, close by, a yacht was bobbing in the water. The camera then panned down to her feet in Miu Miu sandals, and on the table next to it was the paperback of The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner – Alex's book.. The caption below the phone simply read 'Fuck You'.

It was a tradition with Louise. Since Miles and Alex got back together in 2020, whenever Louise was on 'official girlfriend' duties, she would rub Miles' face in it, sending him some pointed reminder that he was indeed the 'other woman'.

Miles didn't reply straight away. He lit his first fag of the day. He took a long drag that then went to his asthmatic lungs and made him cough. He wondered what barbed insult he could come back with. Something nasty about her appearance always went down badly. With his basic GCSE French, he replied with 'tu as de vilains pieds'. Telling her she had ugly feet would be enough for now.

He put his phone down. He didn't want to look at that picture any longer. He knew the score, and he was in a good place. He was just back from Liverpool doing some more work in the album that was coming out later in the year. He was really proud of it and couldn't wait to start promoting it; but today was a bit of a stinger for him. Tonight, one of their favourite singers, Father John Misty, was performing the songs of Scott Walker at The Barbican. Scott Walker was theirs. The cornerstone (pun excused) of their musical tastes, and the starting point for The Age of the Understatement. Miles had bought the tickets for Alex's Christmas present, and had even persuaded a few other friends, including Alexa, to go as well, so if there were any photographs taken, they could pretend to just be a group of friends on a night out.

But something had happened. Back in April, in between the South East Asian and European tours. Alex gone up to Liverpool for a week to see Miles. They'd stayed with Miles' mum, sleeping each night in his old bed. Alex would go to the studio each day with him, and act like an errand boy. He had great fun making tea, answering the phone (usually with his quite convincing Birkenhead accent), and going to fetch lunch for everyone. Because hadn't shaved for a few days, and he was wearing a baseball cap, no one would bat an eyelid when he'd go to McDonalds and get lunch for everyone. It was such a happy time, and Miles knew, when the album came out, the tracks recorded when Alex was there would be evident because of the joy in Miles' voice.

On Alex's last day in the Wirral, he had to change his appearance. He was driving straight down to London for a meeting, and so he'd asked Pauline, Miles' mum to trim the straggly bits that had grown, and he'd blow dried it into its usual style, as well as shaving off his beard and putting a suit on. One of the neighbours recognised him as he left the house, taken a picture and sent it to The Sun. Luckily for them, a junior reporter who was an AM fan opened the email, and she had tipped the record company off.

The record company went into panic mode – scared someone else had seen Alex. They had to salvage what they could of his straight image. So it was arranged for Louise to go to both gigs in Paris and take an array of photos for social media.

It was also suggested Alex go on holiday with her. A week in Sardinia with separate rooms and as little contact as possible, except for the couple of days the paps would come to take an assortment of staged photos to sell to the Daily Mail and other tabloid websites. Alex had cried to Miles, telling him he was sorry and he didn't want to do it because it felt like he was selling out; but he was under contract and had no choice.