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“...I’m sorry for making you all work on the weekend, just for me.”
The whole studio had some kind of nervous, curious energy, and Sam only half understood why. Afterall, this was his first interview since having left Dust Entertainment’s latest idol group: Platnum. His first public-ish appearance since he had a breakdown after a public performance, slapped a boy who was “just trying to help” (if threatening someone could be considered help), and ran off into the night; before dropping off the face of the earth for a good half-decade.
… Maybe Sam fully understood, on second thought.
The interviewer playfully bats a hand towards him, with a ‘don’t mention it, it’s fine’ sort of look on their face. Their assistant, who’s been squeezing his chin since he last spoke, finally finishes with his face makeup; and steps off to the side. Sam takes a glance to the backdrop, made to look like some fancy traditional greek housing. He had asked for a foreign backdrop, but this was a bit much really. He didn't even like Greece. Who would believe he ran off to Greece?
“I noticed the backdrop, very European.”
“It’s the best we could do given the time frame. I hope you feel at home?”
Sam turns to focus back on his interviewer. It’s someone he’s very familiar with, if bingeing all of their previous interviews could be considered becoming familiar. They were well known for their celebrity comeback interviews, which was one of the many reasons Sam was reluctant to come onto their show.
Afterall, he was finished with the entertainment industry.
(Unfortunately/Fortunately, the pay eventually one him over.)
“It's perfect, really, love Greece and its people. So, the interview…?”
Sam was sure the camera was already rolling, having the celebrity react to their surroundings is a typical way to start their interviews these days. If he decided to bitch about the backdrop, the rest of the interview would definitely be edited to fit that vibe. He needed to project a positive, laidback, retiree vibe.
“I’ll start then! Mind introducing yourself to our audience?”
“Hello Net! I’m Sam Causell, the former member of Platnum!”
He uses ‘the’ instead of ‘a’ because for whatever reason, even after what happened to him nobody else decided that being famous wasn’t worth the sacrifice. He put emphasis on the former, just so the record was clear. There was bound to be some people thinking he was using this interview to softlaunch a bid to reenter the group. As if he would ever bother, they were pretty clear when he left that there would be no takebacks.
“So, this is gonna be pretty simple today, just the six questions, then you can go!”
“Pretty short, it seems like you’re trying to rush through me today?”
“Come on Causell, it’s the weekend, we’ve all got families at home to relax with!”
The mention of families had Sam gripping the couch a little harder than he already was. If he hadn’t been assured that they would keep his parents out of the questions today, he wouldn’’t have accepted this interview, regardless of how much money they were paying him.
Breathe, in and out, in and out, stay calm, don’t snap, you’re doing this for her, she needs the money from this...
“…Well let’s get started! Fire away!” Sam wondered how people managed to fake a smile so easily in movies, it sure as hell was hard to do in real life.
“Okay! Loving the enthusiasm! First up, the people want to know… What are you doing now that you’re out of Platnum?”
Crying himself to sleep next to a hospital bed, Working a dead end corporate job, cutting himself whenever social media bombarded him with news about Platnum and their records, their albums, their members, who stood by when he got told to-
“Mainly travelling and reading, typical self improvement stuff; it's good for the mind and the soul, so it has to be done!”
The latter half of that sentence came straight out of a commercial he saw on TV before this interview, but it came out naturally enough. They wouldn’t sue for copyright infringement, probably. Plus, most people who did 1-on-1 interviews were corny enough to quote advertisements, right?
“Well I can’t argue with that one! Next question, we’ve been hearing rumours that Platnum’s newest album has a mystery guest artist? Care to comment?”
Sam was starting to feel like this was a promo interview for Platnum's newest album, instead of an interview with him. With that phrasing, no matter what response, he was in a losing situation. He obviously didn’t want to speak about Platnum themselves; but saying anything about the guest artist, shy of a slur, was practically admitting he was the guest artist. Which would be false, of course, he doesn’t do music anymore.
“I have absolutely no comments, but I wish them the best of luck!”
Sam smiled through the whole sentence, so it came off more jokey than disinterested. Of course, it still sounds like he’s the guest artist, but you win some, you lose some. The interviewer was smiling too, in a way that suggests that he barely escaped a follow-up question. Thank god.
“I do too! On to the last question Mr Causell…”
The next question was going to be a question about his plans for a future in the industry, so he had already come up with an answer, something vague, but also implication-terminating.
“Who is Savannah Grex?”
“While I loved my time in the industry, I’ve decided to move on to something new that has captured my heart.”
…
...
…
… the fuck?
Sam paused, and swallowed, stunned.
…Why do they know about Savannah?
The digital clock on the far wall hit 10:30.
Who do they think she is to me?
The interviewer leant forward, raising an eyebrow, as if a hypothesis had just been proven right.
Who could have told them? I haven’t, her parents didn’t, and the doctors legally couldn’t have-
“Mr Causell?”
Sam jumped. Then, thinking quickly, leant back in his chair as if contemplating something. It wasn’t the smoothest move possible, but it was the least suspicious thing he could think to do. He made sure to keep his eyes facing the interviewer, since looking anywhere else right now would make him look guilty of something. He really couldn’t afford to look guilty of something.
“She’s- Sorry, I can’t answer that right now.”
“Do you mind sharing why?”
That tone of voice suggested that a ‘Yes, I do mind.’ would give her cause to make something up, which at this point was unacceptable. So Sam went for the next best option: a lie.
“I’m currently under a Non-Disclosure Agreement. So I’m sure you understand.”
He flashed her a smile, which hopefully looked kind but felt threatening. He wasn’t really good at intimidation, so he hoped he got the vibes right. God, this interview is going to be terrible when it comes out.
“But…”
For whatever reason, the interviewer hadn’t expected that. Sam decided the best thing to do would be to leave the interview, and possibly call his lawyer to get an actual NDA signed. He wasn’t sure how that would work, but that was what the lawyer was for.
“I’m sorry, but I think I’ll have to cut this interview short-” He made a point of pausing to check the time, “I’ve got something to do that cannot wait… You don’t mind, do you?”
“Of course not! We’ll let you get on your way, and…” They look like they just thought of something. Please do not have thought of something. “...We’ll be in touch.”
“Of course! Have a good weekend!”
Sam got up, shook hands with the interviewer, gave a polite bow to the rest of the crew, and headed towards the nearest exit. He tried to block out the whispers that sprouted behind him as he left, and ignored the feeling of Ms Tabesc’s eyes following him to the door. He kept a mask of vacant calm firmly on his face, until he made it to his car. Only then did he take the time to stress out, calling his lawyer as he pulled out of the parking lot and drove towards the hospital.