Chasing Daisy

off guard was that he fell for me, too. At least, I think he did. It’s hard to tell with Johnny. He’s complicated, to put it mildly. And that’s when it all went wrong. The groupies had always been there, waiting on the sidelines, but Johnny stepped up the drink, drugs and, of course, the sex with countless girls, and he made sure I was a witness to all of it. Eventually I couldn’t take it anymore. It was devastating to watch the person I loved most in the world self-destruct. And when it was over, when I’d finally walked out his door for the last time, I still couldn’t put him behind me. I would see him at parties, at bars and clubs, and even though I soon got a job as a PA to a businessman, the group of friends my new boss mixed with meant that Johnny was never far from my sight. Then Johnny got a new PA, a girl from England, and the rumours circulated that the same thing had happened to her. It was the final straw, to know I wasn’t ‘The One’, to know that I was just another notch on his belt. I was still in love with him, so I quit my job, fled the country and moved to England. I could have gone to Italy. I should have gone to Italy. But Johnny is British and the thought of leaving him behind fully was too much. In London there was always the risk of bumping into him again – I’ve even catered at a party for his own record company – but so far we’ve managed unwittingly to avoid each other.
    ‘What about your name?’ Luis asks finally. ‘Why “Paola Giuseppe” and not “Daisy Rogers”?’
    ‘It wasn’t intentional,’ I say, although quite honestly, at the time I was happy to leave my identity back in New York. ‘Johnny discovered my middle names and decided they suited me better. He wouldn’t stop calling me Paola Giuseppe and it soon stuck.’
    ‘And when you quit? What did you do, then?’
    ‘I reverted to my real name. I didn’t want anything to remind me of him.’ I didn’t want anything to remind me of my former life in New York either, but even that was preferable to Johnny.
    Luis nods and I pause for a moment, thinking.
    ‘I told you I didn’t read the tabloids.’
    ‘You did.’
    ‘When I moved to England I read them all the time. I bought every single one and scoured the pages for news of Johnny. It began to eat me up. I realised I was addicted, so one day I went cold turkey. I haven’t read them since. Of course, I still hear things about him, about all those trips he’s had back and forth into rehab, but I do my best to avoid all news of him.’
    ‘You’re still not over him?’
    I think about this for a moment. ‘Do you know what, I actually think that I am. But there’s no point testing it. He still hurt me. I don’t want those feelings to rise up inside me again. I think that sort of pain takes years to get over.’
    ‘Don’t they say it takes twice as much time as the time you went out with someone to get over them?’
    I glance at Luis and grin. ‘Did you read that in a women’s magazine?’
    He looks sheepish. ‘Might’ve done.’
    ‘Well, it’s taking me a bit longer, to be honest. I only worked with Johnny for eight months, but he made a major impact on me.’
    ‘That’s probably why he’s famous.’
    I cock my head to one side. ‘Yeah, you’re probably right. He has the X factor . . .’ I say this sardonically. ‘What about you? Why are you reading women’s mags? Were they your girlfriend’s?’
    Luis almost chokes on his beer. ‘Girlfriend, no!’
    ‘Why the strong reaction?’
    ‘I don’t have a girlfriend.’
    ‘Why not? You’re acting like they’re a disease or something.’
    He shrugs. ‘Not my style.’
    ‘Oh God, another one like Johnny. That’s all the world needs.’
    He looks thoughtful and stares down at his beer bottle.
    ‘I’m not that bad,’ he tells me.
    ‘No?’
    ‘Maybe I was hurt myself once.’
    ‘Oh, Jesus, you really have been reading women’s magazines, haven’t you!’ I start to crack up, but then see his face and realise it’s not a laughing matter. ‘Sorry. Tell me what happened?’
    ‘Not much to say,’ he replies. ‘Fell in love with a girl, she ran off with my best mate.’
    ‘Oh, no, that’s awful.’
    ‘Yeah, it did suck a bit.’
    ‘When did this happen?’
    ‘When I was about nineteen.’
    ‘Nineteen?’ I exclaim. ‘Luis! That’s ages ago!’
    He doesn’t say anything.
    ‘But how long did you go out together?’
    ‘Since we were at school.’
    ‘Not another