Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Hope you like the story!
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What on earth was I thinking?
Why would I free-willingly go to that bloody interview? What was I thinking?
I admit, the question caught me by surprise. It's really not anyone's fault, I am media trained and everything... I yelled at my manager afterwards, but, not his fault, this is just me being me.
What a looser! Why did I react like that on one of the most watched programs in London, why? WTF.
What bothered me the most is that they seemed to know. The studio, the other producers, they all seemed to know that my heartbeat was going to race. Maybe the whole world knows now ? If so, what am I going to do?
I haven't been able to hide it, I have tried to stay curt when doing pressers, or when answering those stupid journalists' questions. I have always tried not to say his name, not to blink when anyone mentions Z, I never talk about his departure, I never say anything about him, good or bad.
Songs is where I pour my heart on. The public can have that. I give that to the public, but, please, leave my private life alone. Didn't I tell my manager that? Didn't I tell him to make sure I am never, never ever, never ever, asked about Z?
N E V E R. I don't ever want to mention his name in public.
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When Harry met Z
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