Get Ready For It - A Gary Barlow FF

Chapter 5

I arrive home about 15 minutes later. I was stopped a few times by a few people who recognized me and took a few pictures with them and signed a few autographs. I love my fans but at times, especially when I am dressed in my training gear, I just wish I didn't get noticed. Mainly, because I like to be as smartly dressed as possible for when I meet my fans.

As I bounce on through to the kitchen to flick on the kettle, I can't help the smile from appearing on my lips when my mind replays this morning's events over again. I slide my phone out of my shorts pocket and click open the Twitter app.

I scroll through my homepage seeing what is happening around the world right now. After nothing extremely interesting catches my eye, I decide to send a tweet to my followers. I still can't believe I have over 4 million followers on this thing. Surely I'm not that interesting, am I?

''Absolutely pooped after my training ! Thanks to Steve my trainer as always for keeping me focused ! Onward and upwards #focused''

Clicking send, I exit the app and discard my phone somewhat along the breakfast bar in my kitchen. I hear the beep of the kettle signaling it's finished. Grabbing a mug from the cupboard, I throw in a tea bag and make myself a lovely cup of steaming hot tea. I head over to the radio and turn it up as I hear the new #1 single come on the radio.

''Ah, this is tune!'' I call out through the kitchen as I turn up the volume to Mark Ronson and Bruno Mars' absolute stomper 'Uptown Funk'. 

''Cos uptown funk goin' give to ya, cos uptown funk goin' give it to ya, Saturday night and we in the spot, don't believe me? Just watch...Owwww!'' 

I break into song as I place my tea upon the counter once more and whip my sweaty, sticky tank top up over my equally sweaty and sticky chest and arms before placing it over my shoulder. I once again take hold of my cup of tea and head off down the hallway towards the stairs. 

Bouncing up the stairs with Uptown Funk still belting through my lips, I slide into my room where I discard of the rest of my training gear in the laundry basket. Standing stark naked in my bedroom, I continue to sip from my cup of tea. Draining the last few dregs, I leave it upon the top of my chest of drawers before bouncing enthusiastically over to the en-suite bathroom on the far side of the bedroom. I press play on my iPod which is in the speakers in my bathroom and my good mate Olly Murs' new single 'Wrapped Up' comes on straight away.

'It's as if everything that I want to hear is being played today' I think to myself as I stretch my arm in past the shower door and flick the switch and soon the sound of cascading water and hot steam has engulfed the entire bathroom in a matter of seconds. 

I emerge from the en-suite with my muscles feeling much more relaxed than they were going in. Lord does Steve know how to make me push myself when we train, especially after with a bit of a hangover. I think that was him teaching me a little bit of a lesson for going out the night before we have a workout session the next morning. I dry myself off quickly and throw on a pair of black jeans, a plain white t-shirt and one of the many blue checked shirts that have been sent to me by various clothing labels and designers recently. Teaming the look up with a comfy pair of flip-flops, I totter down the stairs towards the kitchen.

I plop myself down at the breakfast bar and flip open my MacBook laptop. The ever welcome 'ding' of when you enter your password is music to my ears more than normal today, I must admit. I don't know why really but it is. I click into my e-mails and read through the 3 or 4 new ones that have come through this morning while I was out training.

''Photoshoot with Evening Standard...Confirmation of tickets for a movie premiere in 2 weeks...ooh, an e-mail from Robbie''

A smile appears on my lips as I spot an e-mail from me old mucker, Mr. Williams. 

*sent today, Saturday, 10.33AM*

''Hey Gaz,

Hope all is well with you in London. Just got back from Australia and here in L.A now for a few days. I'm writing to you because I will be in London next Wednesday until Saturday as I have a few things to sort out with the label. If you're free one of the nights, I would love to get together for dinner or something mate. Let me know if you're around buddy, as it's been too long.

Love as always,

R.W xx''

The cuteness of the x's gives way to a little school girl giggle from passing through my lips. I quickly write him a reply saying that I would only love to meet up for dinner and a drink when he gets back to London. I'll get my weekly schedule sent to me tomorrow by my assistant Eliza, then I shall know what night or nights I have free.

After hitting send, and hear the swish that confirms the e-mail is well and truly sent, I close down the laptop and pick myself up from the breakfast bar. Swinging open the fridge, I grab a nice yogurt from the inside of the door. I grab my phone and make my way into the lounge where the football coverage is about to begin on the TV. Liverpool play Arsenal later on this evening. Big game for us that. I have a £20 bet on with my trainer Steve as he's a huge Arsenal fan. We're going to the reverse fixture together here in London when they meet again in May. This one is up in Liverpool so I was unable to go, especially with the gig last night and all.

I plop down on to the black leather couch in the lounge with my yogurt as I grab my phone and slide my finger across the, now a little scratched, screen. The corner of my lip turns up slightly as I happily as I see the background picture of myself and Jack Wilshere from when I met him and the Arsenal team at The Emirates Stadium in 2011. I notice that I have a new message. I click it open to see a message from an unknown number. My ears instantly prick when I read the first few words of the text.

Sender: Unknown Number

10:56

''Hi Gary, Sophie here from earlier today. You gave me your number and told me to text you? Anyway, here I am and here's my number. Hope you are having a nice day. Sophie''

I decide to reply to her immediately.

Recipient: Sophie

10: 58

''Hiya Sophie. Thanks for the text. What is your address so I can collect you later for dinner around 8? G''

Hitting send, I finish off my yogurt and make my way to the kitchen so I can dispose of the container. Just as the lid of the bin closes, my phone vibrates once again in my hand. A very smirk-like grin appears on my face as I read the new text aloud to myself.

Sender: Sophie

11:01

''Oh, sorry. I forgot to tell you. Silly me :-P I live at....''