By the time the tour was almost done, Aurelia was beginning to suspect her understanding of time was dangerously skewed. It no longer moved in a straight line, and instead lurched from one moment to the next, like an unseen force wanted to change the channel, but couldn't find the remote.
Days stretched into a haze of early call times, faceless journalists and endless questions. The weeks stopped existing entirely. Her life became an endless rotation of fancy hotels, arduous car journeys, and flashing camera. The rest of the cast made it bearable at first, carrying each other faithfully through the madness of the first and second weeks, but as the tiredness kicked in, and the inevitable arguments when people spend too much time with each other, everybody flagged.
Sometimes, it was difficult to remember what city they were in, until somebody checked the view outside the curtains or the logo on the room-service menu.
As such, when the taxi finally pulled up outside her flat in Primrose Hill, three days before her final live interview, a solo appearance on The Rudi Ellis Show, Aurelia's relief was physical.
It wasn't home. There didn't seem to be "home" anymore, considering she was never in one place for long, but it was a sanctuary. The street glistened with leftover rain, the light of the dull February evening spotted with the glow from neighbours' windows. She dragged her suitcase up the stone steps, smiling and nodding in recognition as she passed the friendly warden, and then made the final push up the flight of stairs to her front door.
As soon as she was inside, she exhaled, eyes closed, shutting out more than just the layer of dust that had gathered across the entire flat. She left the suitcase where it had landed and kicked off her boots, enjoying the familiar smell of her eucalyptus candles and old books.
Twenty minutes later, she emerged from her bathroom damp-haired, dressed in her giant avocado Oodie, and sent a message to a group chat named "Girls Only".
AURELIA H: I am alive. I have wine.
LUCY M: On my way
ALYSSIA T: Emotional support carbs incoming
Not long after she'd poured her first glass of red, the reinforcements arrived. Lucy was first, head to toe in black, hair tied back from her face so tightly it would have put half the plastic surgeons in London out of a job. She was full of the exhaustion and unfettered rage of stage management.
"I swear," She announced, dumping her coat over the arm of the couch and throwing herself down next to Aurelia, "If one more fucking actor asks me to fetch them a triple skinny, no carb, no fat, no calories, no fun latte, I'll stab someone. I mean it, Rels, I'll stab."
Alyssia followed shortly after, laden with crisps. She must have just finished recording an episode of her podcast, Alyssia In Your Mouth - the microphones were still hanging off her, and she was furiously typing something into her phone. She kicked a bag of Hula Hoops across the room towards Aurelia, and seated herself in the squashy loveseat opposite the couch,
"I told Bo-Jo to fuck off," She said, without looking up, "And now his little PR cronies are telling me I have to delete the recording, but I won't let them silence me!"
Alyssia was frequently exhausting.
Once the wine was poured, the crisps eaten, and the complaints that all the crisps were eaten aired, Lucy looked at Aurelia anxiously.
"Rels, you look absolutely wrecked."
Aurelia lifted her glass, head inclined in acknowledgement,
"Medicine."
They drank and talked over one-another, reminiscing their drama school days - Aurelia was the only one who was still an actor, even though she was the only one who hadn't actually graduated- West End disasters, podcast feuds, press-tour absurdities.
By the second glass of wine, Aurelia's shoulders began to loosen. By the third, the room was warm, safe and slightly spinning.
"Shag anyone while you were touring?" Alyssia asked abruptly, causing her to choke on her sip,
"No way!"
Lucy raised an eyebrow, exchanging glances.
"You said that very quickly."
"Almost like you're hiding something."
Aurelia rolled her eyes. They'd been desperate for her to have a sordid hook-up since the breakup with Matthew. It had been the last thing on her mind, although, admittedly, she had found her mind wandering at times.
"Not really…"
Alyssia was persistent,
"Define 'really.'"
She stared into her glass. She had to give them something, they'd never drop it otherwise, and something had indeed been fermenting under the surface for a little while now...
"I… have a little crush," She admitted, and was immediately knocked sideways as Lucy threw herself into her lap with excitement-
"Details! Now!"
Alyssia had gone very still, her phone still clutched in her hand.
"I don't know him," Aurelia said quickly, "We've never met. I've just been watching his videos. That's all."
"Oh…" Lucy was disappointed, but Alyssia pressed further;
"Is this like… one of those AI boyfriend situations?" She asked hesitantly and received a withering look in response-
"Of course not. He's just a guy who makes history videos-"
"Wait!" Alyssia cut across her, face lighting up, "Is this History Guy?"
"You know him?"
"You mentioned him once, when you called me from Dublin. I asked who the voice was in the background, and you said it was a history thing you were watching."
"Oh, right. Yeah, I did. Sorry, I was pretty out of it at the time." Aurelia thought this would be it, but her friends were looking at her like puppies begging for treats. She laughed, finally defeated. "Okay, fine. Theodore Marinos. His thing is dressing up as historical figures and explaining what they did, but in a funny way. But its not mean funny, if that makes sense? Its like he's just trying to understand people."
"And you want him to understand you, is that it?" Lucy smirked, suggestively, but Aurelia didn't rise to the bait.
"He's comforting, somehow."
"And?"
"And what?"
"Is Theodore..?" Lucy gestured vaguely. Alyssia leaned in eagerly, clutching her phone as if it would vanish into thin air. Aurelia grinned, despite herself.
"Dark hair. Tall. And oh my god, his thighs."
Lucy cackled, kicking her feet like a schoolgirl, the last of her wine threatening to slosh over the side of her glass.
"Its more than that though," Aurelia insisted, "He's clever. He's funny."
"And hot?"
"He's nice, looking, yes."
"No. Is he hot?"
She thought for a moment, her mind wandering back to the Alexander the Great video.
"He's so fucking hot."
As Aurelia and Lucy screamed with laughter, Alyssia silently tucked her phone into her bag
The end was in sight. As the studio around her hummed with the restrained chaos often found at live recordings, Aurelia sat in the styling chair, a thick, white robe covering the black Versace mini dress they had prepared for her. It was more negligée than actual dress, but apparently this was the in look right now, and she was too exhausted to argue. Hair and make-up were taking longer than usual; tiredness had made her hollow, and the girls doing her makeup had spent way too long trying to make her freckle-dusted arms the perfect peachy colour.
Now, the hair stylist was volumising her hair into the classic look- "This Style Looks Like I Just Fell Out Of Bed But Actually It Took Hours," whilst one of the production assistants leaned against the cosmetic table, chatting amiably.
"You look bloody tired, sweetheart," He said, offering her a tiny bag of white powder, "Need a pick-me-up?"
She shook her head. She enjoyed a drink as much as the next person, but she'd spent a few years in her late teens and early twenties in the drug crowd, and it wasn't a place she wanted to re-visit. The assistant shrugged,
"Must be difficult for you to relax, babe."
She snorted,
"I can't even remember what relaxed feels like."
XXX
Despite the high calibre of guests that appeared on The Rudi Ellis Show, the true star was Rudi himself. Flamboyant, engaging, and more than a little bit homosexual (his words), he had a way of hyping the audience into a frenzy, often at the expense of the unsuspecting celebrity cowering on his bright red leather couch.
Now, that couch was uncomfortably warm underneath the studio light, scorching the back of Aurelia's bare legs as she angled her knees politely towards the Welsh presenter, microphone clipped as tightly as possible to her nothing-dress.
"Now, Miss Hart," Rudi was smiling at her, his smile radiating warmth and impending chaos, "You've had quite the month, haven't you?"
Acting face on. She smiled prettily and laughed.
"I think I've forgotten my own postcode."
He riffed through the usual talking points; for those who don't know, tell us about your character; how do you feel now that the Discworld franchise is ending; what will you do next? Then there were the more personal questions, Rudi's voice lowering as he brought up her father and her break up with Matthew. It was about midway through the Matthew line of questioning that she noticed it.
Every few minutes, Rudi was glancing at the producers and then grinning. It wasn't a comforting grin. It wasn't a friendly grin. It was more along the lines of "I've got something up my sleeve, and Aurelia Hart is going to absolutely hate it."
She could not have been more correct.
"Before we let you go," He said brightly, just when she finally thought she was wrong, and he might be done with her, "We discovered something a bit naughty about you."
She remained calm. Paparazzi often used this tactic; they'd shout things to get a rise and then publish whatever you blurted out. She honestly wasn't sure what it could be, unless somebody posing as her had started an Only Fans account. Again.
Behind the couch, a television screen lit up, displaying an image of a cosy living room, all bookshelves and potted plants and-
Oh god. It was her living room. That was her sitting on the couch in her avocado Oodie, clutching the bottle of wine. The angle the video was filmed from told her that it was taken from the loveseat opposite the couch. The loveseat Alyssia had sat in a few nights ago, strangely attached to her phone.
About a second before her voice rang out across the entire studio, she knew exactly what was about to happen. She watched in horror as the video played.
"I might have a little crush…"
The audience detonated, shrieking with excitement. She wilted back into the couch, shock rendering her frozen, humiliation making her eyes burn. She knew the worst was yet to come.
"And oh my god, his thighs!"
And then, the final nail in the coffin-
"He's so fucking hot!"
She put her head in her hand, the sound coming out of her mouth a cross between a squeak and a balloon deflating. Its okay, she tried to soothe herself, he'll never see this. They don't broadcast this show in Australia.
Rudi was beaming at her, loving every second,
"Aurelia, Aurelia, what dreadful friends you have!"
Embarrassed rage made her face burn brighter, but she managed to recover herself, staring straight into the main camera, eyes hard. She hoped, very much, that Alyssia and Lucy were watching.
"I trusted you."
"Oh, you shouldn't have," Rudi thought she was referring to him, and stretched his hand out in front him, eyeing his perfectly manicured fingernails airily, "I absolutely cannot be trusted."
The audience guffawed.
"Would you like to know why we got your friends to film you?" The lights shifted suddenly, as the host rose to his feet, "Well, we're nothing if not cruel on this show. Everyone, please welcome a special guest, all the way from Australia!"
The doors opened.
Theodore Marinos walked out.
Impossibly, agonisingly real.
Even more broad shouldered than he appeared on camera, unruly dark hair for once not under a mad wig. He seemed unsure of what to do at first, eyes wide with disbelief and amusement, and then he strode with confident awkwardness towards the couch. He was clearly used to being in front of a camera, but not in this format. He smiled when their eyes met, not smug or triumphant, just... gentle? Apologetic, even?
The audience were losing their minds. Production assistants were scurrying up and down the seats, threatening to confiscate the phones of people who were trying to film the moment and the floor was almost vibrating with the momentum of the applause and stamping.
Aurelia, on the other hand, wished she was dead.
"Well!" Rudi had the satisfied expression of a person who knew he'd made his money, "I think this has gone very well for everyone involved, except Aurelia!"
She shook her head, too embarrassed to make eye contact with the new arrival as he sat down beside her, and the crowd's laughter washed over her again.
It wasn't just the humiliation of her feelings being broadcast to most of the UK; it was the betrayal from Lucy and Alyssia. Why? They'd all been friends for a decade, and they'd had so many opportunities in the past to do something like this. Why now? It was so hard to trust people in Aurelia's line of work, but she'd truly believed she could trust them- they were her best friends.
Theodore gave a half chuckle beside her, clearly still processing the fact that he was sitting on a red couch next to one of the most recognisable actresses in the UK, whilst footage of her calling him hot played on a loop behind them.
"So, Theo- can I call you Theo?- First of all," Rudi sat down and swivelled towards him, "Thank you so much for flying to the other side of the world to public mortify this woman. How does it feel?"
"To be fair, Rudi," Theodore countered him, "You didn't tell me that part. I feel awful." He was smiling, but there was the slightest hint of tension in his voice. If Rudi noticed, he ignored it.
"You don't look it."
"I'm trying to be polite."
The audience collectively smiled. They were eating out of his hand already.
"Tell us a bit more about you, Theo," Rudi said, settling back on the couch, "Because the people at home might be wondering how a man dressed as Napoleon in his last video ended up being known as the "internet's favourite history teacher.""
Aurelia found herself listening intently. Originally, Theodore had come from a small city in New South Wales, but had attended drama school in Sydney, classically trained. He'd fallen in love with the city and relocated there permanently after graduation, before realising his acting talents were unlikely to get him a starring role in the latest Hollywood blockbusters.
"The sad truth is, Rudi," He explained good-naturedly, "I'm really bad at acting. But I love making videos, so I started doing it online, really serious, educational stuff." He paused, "Nobody watched them."
More laughter from the audience.
"So, I gave up, and made a sort of "fuck-it" video, trying to explain Greek mythology as if the gods were talking on a deeply dysfunctional family group chat, and it went viral!" He paused again, reading the audience expertly, before adding, "Which wasn't exactly ideal, because I'd done it wearing a bedsheet…"
Even Aurelia found herself laughing at that, forgetting the horror of the situation for a short moment. She stole a glance at him; he was more relaxed now, leaning back on the couch, his hands moving expressively. He looked comfortable, and had the gift of being deeply funny without having to try.
He's amazing…
"Why the Greek mythology?" Rudi prompted. Theodore nodded,
"Right, yeah. The video was based on my own family, conversations I have with my brother and sister all the time," He said, "My dad is Greek, Mum is French. Dad is a history teacher, so there was always history all over our house when I was growing up, ancient stories, fights about whose food was better-" He turned to address the camera, "Sorry Mum, Dad wins this one."
"You're completely wrong, but we'll let it go for now" Rudi flapped his hands at the audience as they "oooohed" pantomime style, "So, basically, you combined your drama school training and your heritage with the internet's desperate need to be entertained?"
Theodore smiled,
"Pretty much."
Aurelia had been hoping that Theodore's charismatic command of the interview had made Rudi forget about her, but he was turning towards her again.
"And meanwhile, Miss Aurelia Hart, is sitting at home, watching these videos and positively salivating!"
"I was NOT salivating!" She exclaimed and realised too late that her protests made it worse. Rudi took that moment to start playing the video again, proving that salivating had, indeed, happened. Desperately, she leaned closer to Theodore, trying not to think about how good he smelled, head slightly turned away from the cameras.
"I am so, so sorry about this."
"Don't be," He bent his head towards her, "I was flattered."
"That… does not help. At all."
Unbeknownst to them both, the camera was zooming in on them whispering together, Aurelia flushed and visibly ruffled, Theodore calm, amused, grinning back at her.
"Look at these two!" Rudi exclaimed, homing in on them like a shark sensing blood in the water, "So intimate already! Have the two of you ever actually spoken before tonight?"
"No," Aurelia said quickly, and Theodore echoed her sentiment,
"Not once."
Rudi gurned into the main camera, his expression lewd,
"Taking bets now that Aurelia's knickers will be on the floor of Theodore's dressing room in half and hour, ladies and gentlemen."
The audience applauded wildly. There were wolf whistles. The wild inappropriateness was almost too much to bear, as well as the disgust at such disrespect on camera. She made a mental note to ensure Esme put The Rudi Ellis Show on her blacklist.
Never again.