Wishful Thinking Read Online Free PDF Page B

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4
     
     
     
     
     
    Christian sighed as the car began to weave through the tortuous labyrinth of streets in London’s West End. More and more of these were being closed off to traffic every week, which made accessing his Mayfair house well-nigh impossible. Not that the restrictions deterred the die-hard paparazzi who seemed to be permanently camped outside his door. He had long given up attempting to drive himself in central London. He felt mildly irritated that Amber had pulled her stunt there when the rest of the group had the full run of the Surrey house – which had far better security - this Christmas. He wondered if she’d done it because she knew the paps were camped outside but the moment he had that thought, he felt guilty.
     
    But then Amber was a huge, prickly thorn in his side and he was beginning to think she would be there for life, ruining all his future chances of happiness. It wasn’t as if she really cared about him any more – they’d both long ago accepted that it wouldn’t work between them – but she couldn’t stand the fact that he was trying to pursue a life without her. She might not want him anymore but she wanted to keep her control over him.
     
    In the early days of the band, they’d worked well together. The chemistry between them seemed to be injected into their music and they couldn’t do anything wrong. Together they made the band what it was. They were the band in the eyes of the world. And the world seemed to love them. But three years on the road and all the other stuff between them had killed the romance. Besides, they’d both had enough of that life. Perhaps they’d grown up; certainly they were tired – of the band and of each other - and needed something new to spur them on.
     
    Then Hollywood came knocking at his door and the entire band agreed to take a break and explore different avenues. They were all feeling the strain. There was no talk of splitting up, contrary to what the tabloids proclaimed, just of them all taking some time out to explore other avenues. In fact a couple of them formed a new band in the wake of the first but the style was different and the big hits had eluded them. They all remained the best of friends and were in regular contact; unanimous in their agreement that if the right song came up, the original members would reunite at the drop of a hat.
     
    Christian was probably luckier than the rest of them in that he landed himself a part in a film that became an instant cult hit and before he knew it, the critics were hailing him as a serious actor. It was only a small supporting role, but a significant one. Sequels and prequels followed – in that typical way Hollywood has of reinventing the past and in each one he made a cameo appearance – and other offers rolled in. When he wasn’t acting in films, he was taking acting lessons in order to do so. He enjoyed the life at first and even wondered why he’d chosen music above it in the first place. He’d always been good at drama at school and that should have guided him. But then he couldn’t regret the years with the band. They’d been some of the best of his life and he wouldn’t have missed them for anything.
     
    “I’m going to take you round the back way. The press is camped outside,” George, his driver, told him.
     
    Christian nodded. George was a former rally driver. He could snake in and out of traffic through London’s narrowest streets as if he and his vehicle were made of soft rubber. George was also the epitome of discretion and loyalty. Christian often felt he could trust him more than his personal manager.
     
    “She’ll be okay, Chris. I’m sure of it. I’m just sorry she’s managed to ruin your Christmas with your folks.” George said, not for the first time since he’d picked Chris up at his parents’ hotel.
     
    Christian nodded again. He wasn’t too worried about his parents since they were used to his rapid comings and goings