"I'm all yours now!" My charm is thickly spread all over the journalist Clara Thorn, and judging by the tight smile that she has just so forcefully made herself do in my direction, I think I am going to need another layer of that thick charm of mine.

"Great." She just as forcefully makes herself say to me, but her whole demeanour is conveying that her having to interview me is anything but great.

It kind of amuses me that she's trying so damn hard to be nice, when I know that somewhere inside of her pretty little head, she just thinks that I'm a total douche—a douche who just sleeps with anything that moves. "Shall we go out on the balcony?" Although I am used to having an audience, I don't need Cam and everyone else to watch me trying to win over my icy interviewer. So without even waiting for Clara Thorn's answer, I am already heading out towards the balcony. There, we will at least have a little privacy. She can do her interview, while I try to work out why it bothers me so much that this Thorn gal keeps looking at me with such disappointment.

Looking over the balcony, Clara can't help but enjoy what she sees. "What a beautiful view." Her eyes widen as they soak up the sight of London, the evening sight that panoramically stretches out as far as her joyous eyes can see.

Trying to sound just as enthralled as she does, I nod. "Not bad." Obviously failing to do just that in an epic fail way.

Astounded, Clara nudges against me with an unimpressed smile. "Not bad?"

When she looks at me like that, I only want to wipe away her disappointment in me. Why? I don't know. But for some unknown reason, that is how this journalist makes me feel. Feeling the need to explain, I try to with a soft chuckle. "I didn't mean it like that. It's just I've seen a lot of cities. I've seen a lot of places. I guess you could say that I've become immune to the beauty of the world." Which is absolutely true. I travel the world. I do interviews and concerts in so many different places. And yet, I don't get to enjoy any of those places. All I see is the inside of different aeroplanes and different hotel rooms.

Clara listens intently, before pulling a dictaphone from out of her pocket. "Okay, this is the perfect time to answer one of my questions."

With a smile, I lean back against the ornate stone balcony, mirroring the way that Clara had just leant against it. "Ask away."

"Where is the one place in the world that you feel truly relaxed? Somewhere that you feel like you can just be yourself."

Her first question is an easy one to answer. "A couple of years ago, I bought myself a cabin on Echo Lakes in California. I go there to unwind. It's my peaceful escape from reality. I fish there. Go for long walks around the lakes and in the mountains. The solitude kind of centres me again, if you know what I mean?" Talking about Echo Lakes, makes me want to be there right now. As my eyes move from where they looked out at nothing, and back onto Clara, it is then that I see her expression upon me, softening. Her icy demeanour is slowly beginning to thaw.

"In your world, I guess you do need some time to centre yourself again. We all do at times, but you especially." Yeah, she is definitely thawing out before my very eyes, so much so, she needs to look away from me and back out to lit up London.

I have no doubt of Clara's professionalism, but feel that I need to remind her of the confidentiality about what I've just told her. "By the way, you can print I have a cabin...just don't say where it is." To not come across as a total douche-diva, I flash her one of my special Rhys Ryan smiles. "Otherwise I'll be having the fans tracking me down there." Ah, my crazy devoted fans! They really would track me down at Echo Lakes, if given the knowledge.

My flashy-ass smile works. Clara is now softly laughing, as she glances sideways at me with a more relaxed expression. "Don't worry, your cabin address is secret safe with me."

Safe. That's a word that I have not felt for a very long time. But in the brief and beautiful company of Clara Thorn, I am not thinking about the possibility of a phone call about my sister. Wherever I am, I always dread getting that phone call. I never feel safe from such a phone call. So when I look right into Clara's eyes, I find myself asking her all about her intriguing self. "What about you, Clara...where is your place to unwind?"

Now that I have thrown her own question back on herself, she frowns as she thinks about it. "I don't think I have one. I'm always working. Most of my friends and family live in London, so I don't really travel outside of it."

Her answer isn't the one that I was expecting. "But you must have been on holidays?" I am slightly fishing here. I want to know whether she holidays with a special someone. 

Again, her answer surprises me. "Not outside of the UK."

"Really?" I ask, wide-eyed with sedate disbelief. "How come?" My fishing for answers, deepens.

But Clara doesn't seem too bothered that I have turned the interview back onto her. In fact, we are happily chatting away like friends often do. "My family never holidayed abroad. I think the farthest we had ever gone was to Whitby. As I've got older, I have become more and more scared of flying. So the appeal to travel has never been with me."

Listening to all that she has just said, I realise that Clara and I both have something in common—we keep our fears confidently hidden. "So you've never been on a plane?" I ask, wanting to find out more and more about this person who unknowingly interests me.

"I have, once to Paris and once to Edinburgh. Both because I had to travel for work. I think I must have consumed a whole bottle of those calming pills before each take off!" She chuckles softly, more embarrassingly to herself than to me.

This girl really is a breath of fresh air. Without even trying, she relaxes me. She makes me freely laugh. I like her company. I like being around her. She has an uplifting quality about her. So I laugh, just for her, I laugh. Wanting to get more comfortable with Clara, I go and sit down on the outdoor Rattan sofa. With the heat of the patio heaters, it's a cozy place to continue the interview as the evening air chillily wraps itself around us. "What else do you wanna know?" Relaxing in her company, I am more than happen to start opening up to Clara. Which in itself, is rare. I am wary of all forms of the media. They are constantly scrutinising everything that I do. They seem to always have my balls in a vice. When I am having a shitty day, they just always seem to be there to capture it. It pisses me off. But when you're in the public eye—the media think they own you.

Placing her dictaphone down onto the Rattan table, Clara asks her next question. "I know you're just coming to the end of your UK tour, do you think you'll be doing another one in the near future?"

My answer comes naturally. "Oh yeah...for sure!" My smile is natural, too. "I like it here, I've had a blast!"

"There have been rumours that you intend on doing some collaborations with some of our high-profile British song artists. Are those rumours true?" Clara blinks at me, her smile so prettily high-cheeked and natural, just like mine.

I like her. I find myself liking her more and more. Which is why I want her boss to be pleased with what she gives him regarding this weekend long interview. So I'd like to give her something that only her magazine will have. "There's some awesome talent here in England. I've met some great artists during my time here. So yeah, I'd love to collaborate with them." I just want to rein Clara in, just that little bit more. My grin is playing with her, wanting her to try and get the info from me.

In almost a flirtatious way, she smirks right back at me. "Care to share?"

Boom! Her gorgeous grin is one that has me spilling out the information that she wanted in mere and eager seconds. Running my hand through my styled short hair, just to make me look more cool, I try to keep my voice just as casually cool. "I met James Arthur on a chat show we were both doing, he's a pretty cool guy...would love our people to get their heads together. I also went to watch a Rudimental gig, they're awesome too."

Clara now wears an impressed smile. I like it there. I like that I have put it there. "Sounds interesting. " she tells me, smiling just that little bit more in my direction.

That smile of hers is pulling me somewhere. A somewhere that I've never been before. I find myself really looking at her face. Looking at the womanly appeal of it—her soul-deep teal eyes, her lightly glossed lips that have a kissable shape to them, and her brown hair that begs to be untied and untamed around that lovely face of hers—it all calls to me. "Do you listen to my music, Clara?" I guess I am just wanting to know whether I am as interesting to her as she is to me.

"Um...a little." That would be a big fat no, then. Trying to not offend me, Clara is quick to reprieve her lack of interest in my music. "I am liking quite a lot of your latest stuff." She seems genuine. Gorgeously genuine.

I can't help but smile now. "Apart from my latest stuff, what other music do you listen to?" The more Clara opens her mouth, the more I want to hear what will come out of it. If she isn't into my music, I am keen to know what music she is into.

She seems sweetly embarrassed, but answers anyway. "I listen to all sorts really. I like what I like. If a song appeals to me, I just like it. Whether it's country, folk, dance or pop...I just like it."

Shit, this girl is just beyond adorable. Again, I smile at the answer she has just given me. "It sounds like it depends on your mood, then?"

Sitting more forward in her seat, Clara agreeably nods. "I suppose it does depend on my mood." Seemingly enjoying our chat/interview, she then asks me about my taste in music. "What music do you listen to when you're not creating your own?"

I think for just a moment, noticing how she seems to be studying what she can see of my face, much in the same way that I had previously been studying the whole of hers. "I'm a little like you, I like all sorts. I listen to hip hop, boogaloo, mambo, rhythm and blues and rock. Different music inspires me. It influences my songwriting. I love mixing things up a little. It's like a new sound being born. Nothing beats that feeling. Creating something that hasn't ever been heard before." Talking about music will always extract a passionate response from me, but today, my passionate response is more because of the person who is doing the extraction. Clara, makes me want to talk to her. I like talking to her about the good sides to my life, because then, she is helping me to forget the bad sides.

"You play the guitar, right?" Clara has spotted my faithful guitar, just inside of the hotel suite. 

Looking at it, then back at her, I cheerily ask. "Yeah, you wanna hear me play something?" I probably sound just like a cheesy American kid, wanting permission to show off just a little.

But Clara's reaction is just as genuine as I believe her to be. "I'd love you to." She enthusiastically says.

As I go and grab my guitar, I can feel the excitement from her, penetrating my pores. As I sit back down, I make myself comfortable with my guitar resting across my lap. I do a quick little warm up with my naturally deft fingers, before playing a song that I've recently been working on. It's a slow tempo piece, with lyrics that tell the story about someone going through life, not really being happy when they have everything that they could ever want. The song is about me. About how I always feel. I have fame and fortune, but I wander through my life feeling nothing but an unseen unhappiness. That unhappiness stems from my sister. My selfish, junkie sister. Her addiction, has become my burden...my secret. And I loathe her for it. I am Rhys Ryan. I should be the happiest soul alive—only, I'm not.

I just seem to get more famous, and more and more less happy.

So the song I sing to Clara is sung with a painful and honest rawness. My sadness that I keep from the world, is wrapped around every single acoustic lyric. As I strum the last melancholic note, I look at Clara. The words I have just sung to her, have deeply moved her. In her teal eyes, there's a faraway look within them. "That really was beautiful." Her voice is quiet, quiet and just a little blown away by what I've just sang to her.

The compliment that she graciously articulates and the way in which she is looking at me, kind of throws me off. Her sweet appreciation, makes me oddly shy in her company. So I rise from the sofa and put my beloved guitar back where I found her—anything to stop myself from making a complete fool of myself in front of Clara. Those few moments, just give me enough time to get myself back into 'Rhys Ryan – The Pop Star' mode. "How about one of those 'off the record' questions now?" With a sly smirk, I reach over to turn off her intrusive dictaphone. Annnnnd, I'm back! Rhys Ryan, charmer extraordinaire!!

The shy tables are indeed turned. Now, Clara is the one who seems just a little taken aback. Kicking her professional self into touch, she quickly throws me one of those 'off the record' questions. "Okay, you have been seen at various different rehabs...is that because you have an addiction?"

No! No! No! Why has she gone and asked me that? Anything, but that! Agitated and feeling slightly cornered, I perplexingly shift in my seat. Anything that leads the media to my sister—her secret addiction, sightings of me at rehabs—are strictly OFF LIMITS!! "No." Flatly falls from between my peeved lips. Defensively tense, I wait for Clara to swiftly move onto her next question. Maybe one that I'll actually be willing to answer this time?

But Clara is determined to keep on pushing. "But you've been seen at many rehabs. Is there a valid reason for that, other than being there for yourself?"

Now I really am pissed. So pissed, I need to express just how pissed. "Clara, I have my reasons...I just don't wish to share them." My openness with this girl, will only stretch so far.

"But the press are trying to make out that you've got a secret drug, drink or sex problem. This could be your chance to clear things up."

Clara's reasoning is honourable. I believe her reasoning is also genuine. But still, I refuse to budge on the subject. "I don't need to clear anything up. They can all think what the hell they like." And I stand by that, I really do.

I don't care what the press think about me.

I don't even care whether they like me or not.

I'm just a walking dollar sign to them. I line their greedy pockets. They care about me, even less than I care about them. So why would I want to share with them, all about Maci? Why would I give them something that they would simply sensationalise and use to line more of their greedy fat pockets?

No, I'll never do it.

I'll never feed my family to the media vultures.

They can think all that they want of me, but I'll not let them rip apart my mother and my sister. I chose this life. They never did.

Maci has her own battles to fight, and my mother fights them right alongside her. It's bad enough to have to fight them in private. To have to fight them with the world watching you, would just be too much. So I keep my secret close, and the burden even closer.

Clara picks up on my reluctance to talk anymore about the rehabs, so with her apologetic smile, she then says. "I'm sorry, you know that question really was off the record, right?"

Not looking directly at her, I just nod. "I know."

Clara then sighs, I think she's annoyed with herself for ruining what was, a smooth going interview. "Am I allowed to ask you about whether you're involved with anyone? You've been linked with some models and actresses...or maybe some unknown leggy brunette?"

This journalist sure has some Lady Balls! I can't help but like that about her. Trying to fully pull me back into the interview, Clara is now smirking at me. Suppressing a full on smile, I freely answer her enquiring question. "I can confirm that I'm most definitely single."

"Do you like the single life?" There's a trickle of sarcasm to her voice, obviously referring back to the brunette babe from earlier.

So, I play along. "I seem to be coping pretty well."

Right off the bat, her thoughts slip off her very sarcastic tongue. "You sure do."

But I don't really react, I simply dare her to take this question to the next level with a wickedly deep glare in her prim and proper direction. "Yeah, I do."

But Clara does react. So obviously reacts. "What about your future plans for your music? Any big surprises there?" So much so, she completely backtracks on me.

Enjoying myself a little too much with Clara Thorn, I casually move down in my seat with a newly grown arrogance. "I don't like that question. Let's go back to my coping with my single life."

Now it's Clara's turn to become defensive and agitated. "I think we covered that." She is quick, pissed off quick with her reply.

"You don't approve?" I go for her journalistic jugular.

Now, she looks me assertively right in the eye. "It doesn't matter whether I approve or not." The defiance in her teal eyes is dark and really kind of beautiful.

"So you don't?" I push her for more, enjoying the dangerous dalliance that is slowly growing between us.

Again, I have annoyed her. "What does it matter? You're a big boy. A big single boy. You can do what the hell you want."

Clara Thorn's appealing qualities, just get all the more appealing. "Wow...you really don't approve, do you?" Her womanly waspiness is something I admire. So many women just fall at my feet or onto my dick, it gets annoyingly tiresome. But Clara, she's different. She has spirit and balls. She wants this interview, but she won't kiss my ass to get it. And I like that.

"Listen, let's just move onto the next question." She's abruptly straight, too.

But unfortunately for Clara Thorn, I am not yet done with toying with her for just that little bit longer. "We will, if you answer me one more question?" There's a certain degree of seriousness to my tone, devoid of the playfulness that inwardly spurs me on.

"What?" She huffily asks, absolutely but adorably unimpressed.

"Have you had a one night stand?" My eyes dare her to truthfully answer, while my lips cajole her with a crooked grin.

Feistily, Clara promptly responds. "Excuse me! That's totally inappropriate."

But I ignore her anger. If anything, it only makes me even more determined to get my answer. "But it's okay for you to ask me about my personal life?" Have some of that, Clara Thorn!

"I'm not the international pop star. No one gives a damn about me having a one night stand." Comes her confident reply.

"Ah, so you have!" My statement is altogether smug, because she so has had a one night stand at some point in her life.

"That's none of your business! This is your interview, not mine." She angrily snaps.

Knowing that I really have pressed her prim and British buttons now, I try to lighten things up a little by trying to do a really shit impression of her hot British accent. "I hope you're using protection, young lady?" I can tell that she is desperately trying to stay angry at me, but my goofy expression and the really shit accent, is already starting to win her over.

So she relents, finally giving me my answer. "I always have, but my one night stand days are well and truly behind me." Then she totally surprises me by no longer being all uptight and serious, and starts talking with a really bad American accent. "Gee, I hope you're covering up that hot dog, too, booooooooy?"

The terrible accent is just too much. All I can do, is contort into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. Somehow, I manage to continue playing the game that we are immaturely playing. "I sure do ma'am!" Having not laughed like this in a long time, I look at Clara. "That has to be the worst American accent I have ever heard." And it was. Brilliantly bad, though.

Chuckling, Clara smoothes her ponytail by using the palm of her hand as she keenly replies back to me. "Hey, your British accent was pretty dire as well, you know."

Still laughing, we continue to look at one another. All of the defensiveness and the anger that had put up a temporary wall between us, is now being completely pushed down. I like laughing, it's just I don't have much to laugh about these days. So Clara has impressed me by being able to remind me how to do it.

In fact, she just impresses me.

Without even trying, she does.

Which is why the next question is an important one for me. "So Clara Thorn has no boyfriend or husband?" She is definitely not yet married, I've already clocked the ringless finger. Now, I just need to know whether there's a boyfriend.

"No boyfriend. No husband." She bluntly tells me. She doesn't seem to want to venture deeper into this conversation, not at all.

I think me and Clara actually have a couple of things in common. One of which, is our desire to always be working. So I smile, directly back at her. "Let me guess, you're an all work and no play kind of a gal?"

But I think Clara Thorn has had enough of me prying into her life, so she sits tall, becoming more and more tight-lipped. "And I'm working now. So less about me and more about you."

Well that told me! Jeez, I really do like this girl! With an honest smile, I hold my hands up as I begin to earnestly apologise to her. "I'm sorry. It's just that everyone is always wanting to know about me. It's sometimes really nice to just listen to someone else talking about themselves for a change." I really do tire of talking about myself all of the time. It's usually the same questions always being asked, just by different people in different places. It gets tedious and tiresome. And sometimes, it really does piss me off. When I first started out, I tried to be the good and obedient pop star—be where I was meant to be, behave how I was told to behave—but as the years have passed, and the burden of my sister just seems to get heavier and heavier, my patience with the press is at its lowest. For the most part, they are a constant intrusion in my life. When I am on stage, they can have that public part of me. But when I walk off that stage, I am not theirs. So sometimes, I react to that constant battle of just wanting to be left alone. Which is why I have acquired this bad boy image. But they can think what the hell they want. I give as much of myself that I can comfortably give. But I'm human. I need my privacy and I need to sometimes be left alone. But the media don't get that. Sometimes, the fans don't get that. So it's inevitable that I'm going to react to all of that intrusion. So sometimes, I do get mad.

Yeah, I've pushed photographers away.

Yeah, I've refused to do interviews.

And yeah, I've got angry with fans who have crossed a line.

That is me trying to tell them all to just back the hell off. If nobody likes it...tough!

But you know what? I think that Clara gets that about me. Maybe it's because she is a journalist herself? Or maybe, it is something more than that? Either way, I like that she seems to understand my need to not always talk about myself. I also like the warmness that that understanding brings to her softened teal eyes. "In that case, you can ask me one more question...just not about my self inflicted singleness, okay?" She says with a just as warm smile.

Thinking about what she has just said, I now want to ask her something that is not so overly inappropriate. It hasn't gone unnoticed by me that she is pretty nifty with a camera, she looks more than comfortable as she enthusiastically goes around taking loads of different shots, so I decide to ask her about that. "You seem comfortable with a camera, do you take pictures of other things besides us celebrities?"

She looks pleased that I've asked her that, so is naturally quick to answer. "I've always had a fascination with derelict buildings. All shapes and sizes, anyplace and anywhere. As soon as I was old enough, I started taking photographs of old barns, houses and warehouses with my dad's old camera. It never took great pictures but it was the being right there beside those old and abandoned properties that I absolutely loved. Every sound and shadow made me want to try and capture the desolation and abandonment of its structure. I still feel that way now."

As soon as she stops talking, I realise I am beginning to miss the sound of her passionately telling me just how much she loves to photograph decaying buildings. I know I am staring at her in a different kind of way. An impressed and consuming way. And when Clara herself becomes aware of my admiring gaze so heavily upon her, I feel something shifting between us. I don't know whether it's mutual respect or mutual admiration—I just feel something changing. "Going back to your self inflicted singleness...do you snore?" I just need to lighten the intense air that we both seem to now be breathing in. I wasn't even aware that I still owned a sense of humour, but Clara seems to be dragging it from out of me.

Laughing softly, she stretches across the table and smacks the top of my arm with her small hand. "No I do not!"

Rubbing my arm on the area that she's just hit, I humorously argue back. "How do you know, you're asleep and very much single?" And for some strange reason, that pleases me no end.

"I don't snore." She pouts, which only draws attention to her enticingly shaped mouth. Clara Thorn honestly has a pout that would give Scarlett Johansson a run for her very pretty lips.

Dragging my stare away from her provocative pout, I bring my gaze back onto yet another enticing feature of hers—her crystal bright eyes. "Yeah, yeah...everybody snores." I tease some more, because when I am teasing her, I'm not staring at her. Relaxing more and more in Clara's company, I haven't even been keeping an eye on the time. They say that time flies when you're having fun, and yeah, I sure am having fun with Clara Thorn.

"Rhys, we need to start getting ready for dinner...time is getting on." And just like that, Cameron has come to end that fun.

Disappointed, I hide it with one of my cocksure smiles. "Okay." Then looking away from Cam the killjoy, I slide my eyes back onto Clara. "This interview will definitely be continued later on." Then I stand, leaving her with that playful promise to mull over for a short while as I jauntily stride towards Will.

"Having fun were you?" He asks, his brows so knowingly high.

With natural ease, I nod with a confident smirk. "Surprisingly, I was." From the other side of the suite, both Will and I watch her following Cam as he shows her where the bathroom is.

"Rhys? You can't screw the journalist. Yeah, she's cute...but that's not the kind of Access All Areas that you're supposed to be giving her." Will sounds serious, deadly serious, but my mind is wandering to where said journalist is.

Still watching Clara talking to Cam, it is actually making really interesting viewing, because he seems to now be looking down at her with a disapproving scowl. Intrigued, I watch how Clara blinks away a little of her confusion before closing the bathroom door on him. "Huh? What did you say?" I know that Will had been talking to me about something, I just didn't pay attention to what that something was.

"The journalist. Don't screw her. Okay?"  

"What kind of guy do you think I am?" I'm slightly offended by the suggestion that I just want to screw Clara. Okay, I probably do. But this journalist has managed to scratch beneath my steely surface. She managed to make me laugh and forget my troubles for most of the time that we were talking. Yeah, we had that rehab blip, but Clara impressively coaxed me back into the interview. That is more than any other interviewer has ever managed to do before. Maybe that is why this journalist already has her gentle hooks into me? There seems to be so much more to Clara Thorn, and I fully intend to find out what that more is. "I like her." I casually throw that out to Will, anything to just get him off my back about wanting to screw Clara.

Will pats me on my back, now smiling. "I know that. Just don't screw her."

It's no point me protesting my innocence. Will is my oldest friend, he probably knows more about me than I do myself. He is one of the few people I confide in about my sister. He is one of the few who knows about how pressured I can sometimes feel. And he also knows how I cope with that pressure. Which is why we are currently having this hushed conversation about Clara. "I won't." It's not a promise. It's just all I can give my friend, right now. "She's really cute, though."
Cute. Intelligent. Talented. Funny. Interesting. Sexy. Like hot mamma sauce sexy.

"She seems really nice...so play nice." This time, Will is giving me a warning smile.

But that wandering mind of mine is soon wandering again. "What's up with Cam?" I ask, staring across at him.

With me now looking at Cameron, so does Will. "I dunno." He says with a half-assed shrug, watching Cam move around the suite with a tightness to both his face and his athletic limbs. "He's probably worried that you're going to screw Clara, just as I am."

Will is probably right. Everyone was probably eavesdropping on the entire interview, so would have heard just how much I enjoyed talking with Clara. "Don't worry, I won't do anything with the pretty little journalist." My smile is crookedly closed. "Now let's get ready for dinner, I'm hungry."

Yet another promise is offered to Will, one that is only said to placate both myself and him. I have no idea why I feel like I am on the cusp of breaking that promise. I have no idea why I feel bad about doing something that I've not yet done.

The truth is, I'm not just hungry for food. My mind is now hungry for Clara. My famished membranes have this insatiable need to know everything about her. I've only spent about half an hour with this woman, and now I want to fill all of my time with only her.

But time, I don't really have.

Time, is trying to curb my hunger and make me keep my half-hearted promises to Will.

Time, is now something that I'm very much aware of.

**FOR YOU ktavaglione .... WITHOUT YOU, THERE REALLY WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN AN ALL AREAS ACCESSED...ENJOY MY SWEET 😘