now that we don't talk [tom blyth]

6.

"So, just to confirm it all, Saturday you will conduct the group interview with Rachel, Tom, Josh, and Hunter at 12. You will need to be there at 11 with Dean to set up and meet them beforehand. That one is also filmed. There is half an hour allotted. You will then do the 30 minutes with Rachel, then with Tom, neither filmed because they will be part of the cover feature. Sunday, red carpet is from 5:30 so be there by 4:30 to set up. Interviews will be limited to 2 minutes as each one arrives. Make sure you are prepared because these will be quick," my manager rattled off down the phone as I jotted down key times and details.

This wasn't my first premiere, and it wasn't something I was stressed nor worried about getting right. However, I was filled with anxiety over the prospect of Tom being there and having to see him again after so much time. His text still lay unacknowledged on my phone and I had no intention of responding any time soon.

I had no doubt that he knew I was there because of the media schedule for the press run. I remember seeing the one from his last press rollout, the names of all the media companies, journalists and magazines that he would be speaking to in order to promote the show. It was long, confusing, and stupid because when you are as busy as these people are, they forget who they are speaking to 30 seconds after they are told. A bit of media training and some manners gets you a long way when you forget you are speaking to a random journalist on the side of a red carpet.

"Did you get your outfit yesterday?"

"I did, fits amazing," I exclaimed, standing up from the small desk in the hotel room.

"Fantastic, please send me photos!" I heard her squeal at the other end of the line.

I chuckled. One of the joys of my job was everyone was not only passionate about the industry but had a personality behind what they wrote. My manager, Claudia, had plucked me off of a job search site and offered me an internship. She mentored me, and taught me everything I knew, before stepping up into management and offering her role to me shortly after. Every project I did she had eyes on, not because she was micro-managing, but because she loved everything I did and loved media journalism with her whole heart and soul. She was arguably the most passionate and invested person I worked with.

"How are you feeling about it all?" she questioned the formalities out of the way.

I sighed, strolling out to the balcony and taking a seat. The cool air made it's way up my loose pyjama pants. The sun was setting over the horizon and I could imagine Claudia was watching the New York sun glow through the building windows.

"I am okay, I guess. Bit nervous," I mumbled out.

"Why's that?"

Do I tell her? I mean, she knew about an ex-boyfriend and knew about a breakup I was going through, but I had never told her who it was or who with. I kept that to myself for the most part, only telling those close to me. Especially after he shot to popularity with this new film, not wanting to seem like I was bragging or making anything up. Although, I did have proof.

"You know that ex of mine?" she hummed at the other end of the line, "well, he may be Tom Blyth."

Silence.

"May?"

I nodded, then said a quiet "yes".

"Kira, what th-"

"Yes, I know."

More silence.

"Did you tell him before the media sc-"

"No," I cut her off quickly. I could tell she was going to give me a lecture shortly. I couldn't have been more right.

"As your manager, and as a friend, are you fucking stupid? C'mon Kira, how many times do we talk about transparency and communication, especially when your job is involved? This is a professional job, and if personal relationships are going to be intruding on the work, then we need to have a plan around this. I know that this breakup wasn't civil either, so how are you going to go and sit in a room with him and his cast, and then just you and him without a plan on navigating personal que-" I had to cut her off. Her voice was piercing my ears and tears were threatening to spill.

"I am sorry, I should have said something but I just didn't want to loose the opportunity because I can't get over my ex. But trust me when I say I take this job seriously and I am a professional at the end of the day, so is he, so from a strictly professional perspective, nothing should go wrong because we are both working," I muttered out, emphasising my last word before taking a deep breath, trying to push the tears back in my eyes.

Claudia sighed, and I could just about picture her rubbing her eyes and looking around the office. Her behaviours were so predictable for her attitude and so fitting to her nature that you could always clearly imagine every single movement that she made.

"I trust that you are professional, Kira, don't doubt me there. I just don't want anything to disrupt the quality of the feature we get from the event."

"I won't. I promise. In fact, this will be the best feature have received from me."

I could sense her smile through the screen.

-

As Saturday morning rolled around, I was up as the sun rose and in the shower. Getting out, I spent extra time perfecting my makeup and hair over the course of an hour and a half before getting dressed. The tailored pants from cropped above my ankles, showing the Dr Martens that covered my feet. A silk, taupe blouse adorned my chest and my pulled my unruly brown hair into a some-what tamed low bun, slicking back the baby hairs that ran astray. Dousing in perfume, I grabbed my bag, laptop and papers from the desk and ran down the stairs to get into the first taxi I could wave down. On the way to the studio, Dean called me to tell me he was there and setting up.

As I walked in, Dean embraced me into a hug and we both got to work moving chairs, posters, lights and cameras from previous interviews where we wanted them.

"So, I've already seen them all. They're just in the other room getting hair and makeup freshened up," Dean said, screwing another light into position. I just nodded along, not wanting to give away any nerves or anxiety I had about it all.

I ran through my question prompts and cards, flicking over the notes on my computer to be sure nothing had duplicated or been repeated in my later interviews whilst Dean took test shots to make sure none of the frames were too dark or light and everyone would fit.

I could feel my nerves kicking in, my palms starting to stick to the papers I was holding and the shaking of my fingertips making it harder to type on my computer. My eyes flicked over the time reading 11:45am, giving me only about 5 minutes before they came back and did introductions. I could feel my heart starting to race a bit quicker and my breath shorten. Keep it together.

"Seeing me isn't that bad, is it?"