Page 26 of The Interview
“Fuck, no,” George and I say in unison.
“We’re good,” Len states, ever the professional.
“Just so you know, we were rolling through all of that, but as per our agreement, you’ll get the final say on what we use?—”
“All of it,” George interrupts. “I want you to use it. I want you to show the world that we’re human. The word ‘celebrity’ might be used to describe us—our kids, even— but we bleed just like everyone else. We feel hurt and pain, we have emotions, and this is the damage that’s done when people make up lies and allegations about and against us so-called celebrities. I want all those who’ve sold their souls to the tabloids, the magazines, and now the online gossip sites making up allegations of one-night stands, long-term love affairs, and pregnancies involving my husband—mydeadhusband, who’s not here to defend himself—to see the damage they’ve done and continue to do. How their baseless accusations can still cause emotional turmoil, and impact mine, my brothers’, my entire family’s mental health, even all these years later.”
Dan nods slowly, but the whole room, including the crew, erupts into a round of applause. I shoulder bump my sister when she looks at me wearing a tight-lipped smile, with tears in her eyes.
“Told ya.” Len leans in. “Bigger balls than any of us.”
CHAPTER
NINE
MARLEY
Irub my hands together like it’s a winter’s day. I’m trying to warm them, but all I’m really attempting to do is to fire up my brain so I can find the words to describe what happened in Paris.
“It was hot, it was sunny. The pool and surrounding area were filled with band members, roadies, crew, groupies, dealers, and every other kind of hanger-on. It was wild, and to eighteen-year-old me, it was a dream come true. This was what it was all about. This was the sense of belonging, the rock star life I’d longed for.
“High on the coke and pills Rocco had supplied me with—which, I will clarify, I very willingly chucked down the back of my neck and snorted up my nose—and still thoroughly pissed off with Len and his fucking rules, I encouraged Maca to join the party when he turned up. At first, he wasn’t interested, started talking about flying back home to see G if Len wasn’t going to let him call her, but I eventually got him to calm down and have a beer. Then Rocco got in his ear and was delivering the same bullshit to him as he had to me about letting G go. The next thingI know, Mac had chucked a couple of pills down his neck and was snorting lines off the swim-up bar. Then we partied. It was everything you’d imagine it to be: drugs, drinking, fucking, and when the hotel staff eventually kicked us out of the pool area, we all ended up back in Rocco’s suite.”
I pause, let out a sigh, and feel my brother shift beside me. I remain quiet for a few seconds longer, waiting to see if he’s ready to say whatever it is he’s come here to say. When he remains silent, I continue.
“At this stage, Mac hadn’t really done anything wrong. He was dancing and had girls grinding up against him, but he was just enjoying the buzz, keeping his hands to himself. Then Rocco got in my ear again—asked if I wanted to fuck Haley while he watched. Which, again, I’ll readily admit, I was eighteen, high and horny, so of course I fucking did. He also convinced me he had some premium class A he didn’t want to share with everyone, so to bring Maca along for a bump.
It took me a bit to convince him, but we ended up back at our room. Me, Maca, Haley, and Rocco. Haley was on Mac straight away, and I remember him pushing her away, so it was just me and her. We fucked around, with her spread out all over a coffee table for a bit. Mac just sat on the bed; Rocco behind him filming what was going on. At that point, we were just high. Then Haley racked up what she said was coke all over her tits and belly, and me and mac snorted it off her. That’s where everything starts to get a bit blurry. Like, literally blurry. I felt weird, heavy, but at the same time, like I was floating. I remember turning around to see Maca face down on the bed, and I think, but I’m not one-hundred percent sure, I laughed because he was making a snoring sort of noise. Had I been of sound mind, I would’ve questioned that, because who goes to sleep after snorting that much coke?
“I honestly can’t remember in exact detail, or order, what happened after that. I vaguely recall someone screaming, but the hotel was party central. There was constant noise. I think I just passed out. Everything from there is kind of a blur. Flashbacks of moments. I remember Len being there, I remember throwing up. I think I remember being in handcuffs, being in a cell, the sound of a drip.”
I pause again, digging deep into my very vague recollection of those hours after we went back to our room with Haley and Rocco, but I come up with absolutely nothing.
“I don’t know if I really can’t remember, or if there’s a deliberate mental block there because I don’twantto remember. I’ve made a few major fuck ups in my life, but that’s one of the biggest—the one I regret the most. Everything that followed, Georgia and Maca’s breakup, the four years they spent apart, the fucking turmoil and heartbreak they both suffered during that time… that’s all on me. I know they eventually got back together, but if it weren’t for my actions, they would’ve been married and popping out babies long before they did and would never have been standing out on the street on that freezing December day.”
I lick my lips, my mouth so dry I can’t even swallow as I give voice to the thoughts and guilt that have haunted me for forty years.
“If I hadn’t behaved like a spoiled, bitter, paranoid, egomaniac, Maca and Beau would still be alive today.”
I don’t cry. I don’t choke out my words. I deliver them calmly and clearly, because in my head, in front of the mirror, I’ve practised them over and over and over again.
Turning to my sister, who I’m shocked to see is looking right at me, I decide to go on.
“And for that, I’m sorry every second of every hour of every day, and I will never forgive myself.”
Silence. Nothing but absolute silence fills the room as she stares at me as if it’s the first time she’s seeing me in years, and I stare right back until my brother decides to speak.
“You were eighteen, both of you. You werejusteighteen,” Lennon states. “That’s what the world forgets. That’s what all of us forget. What happened that day around the pool, it wasn’t just on you.”
Georgia’s eyes shift from mine to Len’s, so I turn and look his way too.
“You think I’m not eaten alive with guilt? If I hadn’t been on some major power trip thinking I was fucking Malcom McLaren or Colonel Tom Parker, or who the fuck ever, you and Mac wouldn’t have behaved the way you did. You two were eighteen. I was what, twenty, twenty-one? Things happened that day.” Len lets out a long breath and looks up at the ceiling, down at the coffee table, anywhere but at me for a few long moments, and I know in an instant he’s struggling with something. The ever-present knot in my belly pulls tighter, and I mentally brace myself for what’s to come.
His eyes finally land back on mine and dance all over my face. He’s trying to get a read of me, probably on how I might react to whatever bomb he’s about to drop next.
“We’ve got kids now, all of us. Think of them at eighteen and twenty. Could they handle what we were dealing with back then? My lot have a fucking meltdown of Georgia proportions if they leave the house without their phone or a water bottle bigger than your ego.”
“Fuck off,” George and I cry out in unison.
