The stage has been set up following our usual specifications; three chairs sit facing the audience behind a long table covered in our recording equipment, all tested and ready to go. Bottles of chilled water are placed under our chairs. A projector is shining our logo onto the screen behind us.
The room is full of people, seated in rows of plastic chairs. As we reach the table and sit down, I scan the crowd grimly. Clearly, the drama of the past few days hasn’t lost us any followers. The place is packed. There are even people sitting on the floor.
I tap gently on my mic, then lean forward to speak into it. Thanks to all of my years talking in front of classrooms of teenagers, I’m the best at presenting in front of a crowd, so I take the role of main host whenever we do live shows.
“Hello, London!” I call. The crowd whoops and shouts. “Thank you so much for joining us today. It’s wonderful to finally see you all in person, instead of talking to you through a microphone. My name is Luke—”
“I’m Josh,” Josh adds.
“And I’m Zack,” Zack says, his voice rough.
I don’t let my smile falter. “And we are Three Single Guys, who are absolutely unqualified to answer your relationship questions. So let’s get on with it. Today, we’re going to be doing advice as normal, but instead of reading your emails, we’ll be taking live questions from you, the audience.”
The crowd cheers and screams, stamping and clapping. I point to Katie, who’s hovering on the main floor, clutching a wireless microphone. “Our lovely assistant Katie is standing at the front of the room. Can you give us a wave, Katie? If we pick you out to ask us a question, Katie will come to where you’re sitting and give you the mic.”
I glance between Josh and Zack. Neither of them add anything, both stony-faced.
I swallow a sigh. “Right. Let’s get started, then. Who’s got a question for us?”
Hands go up throughout the auditorium. I start scanning the crowd, but before I can pick someone to speak, a voice shouts: “Where’s Layla?”
“Layla will not be attending,” I say. “We’ve decided to… part ways. She won’t be on the podcast anymore. I’m very sorry, if any of you came to see her specifically.”
A ripple goes through the crowd. I can see faces fall. One girl raises her hand, and Josh points at her. Katie scurries forward and passes her the mic.
“So the rumours are true?” The girl asks in a hushed tone. “She did cheat on you?”
Jesus Christ.
“Layla didn’t cheat on us,” Zack mutters. “We weren’t actually dating. You all got that, right?”
I give him a warning look.
The girl at the microphone narrows her eyes. “It didn’t look fake in the pictures from the wedding,” she accuses.
Zack shrugs. “What can I say? I’m a good actor.”
The fan looks incensed. “So it was all acting?!” She demands. “The segment wasn’t real?!”
Josh frowns. “It was real—” he starts.
“Then what happened?” She presses. “Why are you discontinuing the segment? We didn’t even get to find out what happened at the end!”
Zack opens his mouth, and I lean forward, cutting him off before he can speak. “Sorry to tease you all like this. Some factors that were out of our control occurred, which means that we cannot do any more episodes featuring Layla.”
“But that’s the best bit!” The woman whines. “I—”
“Next question,” Josh interrupts her. “You. The man in the white shirt.”
The woman scowls, but Katie gently moves her aside, offering the next man the mic.
He grunts as he stands up, smoothing down the legs of his pants. “It sounded like you were really falling for her,” he says. “Is that why she’s not here?”
My shoulders slump.
“An advice question, please,” Josh says, his voice strained. “Anyone?”
The next person up is a middle-aged guy wearing a bright blue PodFest t-shirt. “Did you argue with her?” He asks excitedly. “Did she not want to pick one of you? It seemed like she really liked you.”
Zack finally snaps. “For God’s sake,” he bursts out, slamming his hand on the table. “Is Layla all you guys are gonna ask about?” He turns to us. “Hell, we may as well tell them.”
Josh fixes him with a hard stare. “This isn’t the time or the place for you to kick off—”
“Why the Hell not? They’re asking. They obviously want to know, so why don’t we tell them?”
“Oh, shut up,” Josh says, his eyes burning. “As if you care about her. You don’t give a crap about her or how she feels, or you wouldn’t have—”
I reach across and put my hand over his mic. The resulting pop of static makes most of the audience wince. A few people clap their hands over their ears.
“Next question,” I say brightly. “Who’s up?” A bunch of hands raise in the air. I nod to Katie. “Katie, can you pick someone, please?”
She nods, running her eyes over the crowd and waving one man forward. He’s wearing a stupid graphic tee with the words SUCK IT GOOD LADIES emblazoned on the front, and a baseball cap jammed down over his face. I don’t even recognise him until he steps up to the mic and tilts his face up to look at us.
“Hey, Mr M!” Donny Pritchard says with a grin, and my stomach goes cold. “Remember me?”
I close my eyes, anger surging through me. “Donald,” I say flatly. “What are you doing here?”
Zack’s head lifts.
Donny grins. “After we met up in the pub,” he says loudly, attracting the attention of all the crowd, “I looked you up online. Great podcast, mate.” He runs his eyes over the table. “Pity Layla isn’t here, I really wanted to catch up with her.”
“You know them?” Someone shouts.
Donny turns and grins back at the crowd. “Aw, yeah. Mr M used to teach me in school. And me and Layla go waaay back,” he brags, his words heavy with innuendo.
Josh gives me a sharp look. The question in his eyes is clear. Is this the guy Layla was talking about?
I shake my head and reach for the bottle of water underneath my chair, trying to keep calm. “Sorry to disappoint you. No Layla today. Is that all you wanted, or did you have a question?”
“Oh, right, yeah, sure.” He chuckles. “Man, it’s weird asking this from a guy who used to teach me, like, Shakespeare and stuff.” He rubs the back of his neck. “So, basically, like, I’m seeing this chick. And for the past week, she won’t sleep with me. Every time I try, she says she’s got a headache, or whatever. And that’s not okay, right? Getting it on is, like, an important part of a relationship, you guys say that all the time.” He pauses, like he’s waiting for me to agree with him.
“Go on,” I say flatly.
“So I told her that if we’re gonna date, I expect her to actually, you know, sleep with me, and she got really pissed and said I was like, ‘coercing her’, or some shit. And I said, woah, that’s a really unfair accusation, and then she left all huffy. So, like, what do I do? I don’t think—”
“What was your name again?” Josh interrupts, his voice level.
“Josh,” I mutter. “Don’t.”
He glances across at me. “You’re not seriously telling me it’s not him.”
“I’m telling you it doesn’t matter.”
Donny looks confused, but then grins. “Donny Pritchard. Good to meetcha. Anyway, as I was saying—”
Before he can finish his sentence, there’s a loud squeak as Zack pushes back his chair and walks to the edge of the stage. I frown, but before I can say anything, he vaults off the stage into the audience, walks up to Donny, and punches him in the face.
