Chapter 44: Giving myself to you

“Eeeeee! I could die. This is absolutely the best thing that has ever happened in the history of the universe.”

“Careful. I’ll be in big trouble with your parents if you die on my watch. Shall we go and have some lunch?”

“Yes, I’m starved. I can’t get over all of this. It’s surreal. What are you going to wear on the APRA’s red carpet? Will a famous designer give you an outfit? Armani?”

Jane took her arm as they walked down the corridor. “Firstly, it’s no red carpet for me. Remember what I said about keeping it low-key? I wouldn’t even be going at all, but Amber said she would have more fun if I were there.”

“I’m dying of cuteness! Dying! Call the campus ambulance!”

Jane laughed. She could always rely on her niece to bring the joy and enthusiasm. And today Jane had joy and enthusiasm of her own, which hadn’t always been the case.

Her structured and safe life was tilting on its axis. She didn’t know whether to hold on tight or let go. The promo director hired by the commercial TV station was a woman who seemed a few years younger than Amber. “That’s great! Let’s go for one more.”

“Yep. Same starting mark?” she replied, thinking about how the Australian entertainment landscape seemed to change every time she returned. The change was slow—too slow—but noticeable. More women, more queer people, more people of colour. And the people with clout seemed to be getting younger. She smiled to herself. Maybe I’m just getting older.

It was nice, though. When she had been at the height of her fame, every event and every meeting had been packed with middle-aged white blokes. A roomful of them had yelled that she could kiss her career goodbye if she came out as lesbian.

She had gone from that meeting straight to a magazine interview. The cover story had been a modern reimagining of Ellen DeGeneres’ “Yep, I’m Gay” photo shoot for Time magazine. It had been their best-selling issue in a decade.

“More smoke!” yelled the director.

The Australian Idol promo shoot was running behind schedule. Ratings had flagged in recent years, and the TV station had been contacting Amber’s management for a while, offering to add her as a judge. The emails had gotten more insistent as the former female judge had quit for a better offer from Britain’s Got Talent.

The money they were offering was ludicrously generous, but filming the contestant auditions segments and the live shoots would be gruelling. She wasn’t precious about doing little promotional bits and bobs to keep herself in the public eye. She had never been a tortured artist that turned down any offers of money. But the time away from recording, touring, and generally being a musician had always been a deal breaker for her.

Now she had a reason to spend a big chunk of time back in Australia. She had a gorgeous flat in Sydney, overlooking Double Bay. A cousin had been living there rent-free for a long time, on the pretence of “looking after the place” for her. He didn’t kick up any fuss about having to move out—surely he wanted to still be in the good books for when she moved back to the States, freeing up the flat again.

If I move back. She blinked up at the stage lights and shook her head. She really shouldn’t get ahead of herself. Daydreams had been coming to her unbidden while she and Jane had been texting and calling each other from the opposite ends of the world. Jane loved the uni she worked at—maybe Amber could base herself there in Brisbane. They could buy a gorgeous old Queenslander house with a wraparound veranda. Get a dog, or one of those long-haired cats.

Get it together, girl! She was putting the cart a few kilometres before the horse, as usual. Just like with her former fiancée Alyssa Vixen, and the sculptor Marielle before her, for that matter. And Jane was sure to get spooked just like they had.

“OK, this is the take! It’s been a long day; let’s nail it,” yelled the director.

The promo was not going to set the short-film world on fire anytime soon. They were the basic standard shots of her with the other judges. They were both well-preserved old pros who’d been doing this gig since the beginning of the franchise nearly two decades before. The three of them did slow motion poses for the camera. The one with a reputation for being mean had crossed his arms and scowled. Amber had been asked to smile and put her hand on her hip and garnered praise from the director about how well she did it.

“Low stakes and very low expectations,” she had whispered to Teddy during a short break for a drink of water.

“You’re on easy street now, darling,” he replied. “Now, don’t fuck this up for me. You can nail this shit without ever leaving third gear. And I’m looking forward to staying in the same place for the next few months. I want the chance to be a ‘regular’ at the bars on Oxford Street. The cute barman at The Gaslight Inn remembered my drink order last night.”

“We’ve been here three days. How many times have you been to the bar?”

The shot they were doing now was for a teaser trailer. Amber, a silhouette shrouded in smoke-machine haze, would walk down the runway thing at the front of the famous Idol stage. But who was she? The teaser promo would bombard the airways and social media for a few days. Fake blind items reporting that the new judge might be other, less famous, big-haired, short women would be planted on forums and social media. Then the promo featuring non-silhouette Amber would drop, and there would be a frenzy of media ops and appearances.

action!”

She put one foot in front of the other, stopped at the end of the stage, and stood with a hip jutted.

“Cut! Amazing job, Amber. Really great work. You’re a one-take wonder, babe.”

Geez! This job so far had been like shooting fish in a barrel. Early in her career, she had needed to show real grit and a superhuman work ethic. And there had been no praise, no positive reinforcement or encouragement.

Maybe this was easy street. Hopefully it didn’t make her soft. Or send her to sleep.

The shoot was running behind schedule because one of the judges, the other male one, not the “mean” one, had arrived late, taken too long in make-up, and had generally been a brat during the shoot.

Amber had thought she would be done before Jane arrived from the airport, so that she could meet her at the Double Bay flat. But when Jane had texted that her flight from Brisbane had landed, they had arranged for Jane to come to the set. They would still have a couple of hours to get ready for the APRA awards that evening.

Amber had originally offered to meet Jane at the airport, but Jane didn’t want to deal with any fans that might decide to swarm. Amber had been upfront with her about the possibility. In LA, she enjoyed a relatively anonymous everyday life, but Australia was different. Any public outing could turn into a frenzy.

At the Channel 10 building for the shoot, and at the awards show tonight, there would be security staff tasked with keeping an eye on all the celebrities in attendance. But any impromptu outings to other locations would require a personal bodyguard arranged through her management agency.

Amber felt a twinge of sadness. A part of her wished that today she could have nothing on her schedule and she could go and pick up her…her what? Not girlfriend yet, or partner? She wished she could have quietly met Jane at the airport—no attention, no hiring of bodily protection staff, just them.