"Happy Birthday to you
Happy Birthday to you
Happy Birthday dear Felix
Happy Birthday to you!"
The final notes of the song fade away as we huddle together, sitting on the floor in a group around the smashed-up birthday cake placed upon the low coffee table, our faces lit up in the golden glow of the flickering candles. Despite Kitty having dropped the cake when she arrived, the cake box remained intact with its precious cargo still inside it, so it's still technically edible despite its appearance.
Kitty arrived with the cake over two hours ago, and we're all a little bit tipsy by now - the champagne arrived soon after Kitty, and the boys got stuck into the fully-stocked minibar fridge too. I hadn't even noticed the inconspicuous stash earlier, but the boys (and Kitty) can sniff out alcohol like a pig hunting truffles.
Kitty has turned the lights down low, and after popping a few candles into the shapeless fudgey chocolate sponge, gooey buttercream and strawberry puree mess in the box, she wrangled us all into singing Happy Birthday to Felix, much to his irritation.
"Make a wish, little brother," Kitty tells Felix, her voice ever-so-slightly slurred from the evening of drinking.
Felix looks thoughtful, glancing over to me before taking in a deep breath in preparation to blow out the candles, but Alastaire beats him to it.
He swoops in and puffs out the candles in an instant.
"Ooops," Alastaire says, as the smoke from eighteen extinguished candles drifts up into the air. "My bad."
He's swaying slightly as he speaks, having polished off almost two whole bottles of champagne already.
Felix's mouth drops open in utter indignation, and for one tense moment I wonder if Felix and Alastaire will pick up their fight where it left off before Kitty arrived.
"Al, you blonde sausage," Lyall says, quickly defusing the situation. "Yer totally sloshed. Why you gotta be so daft, eh, blowin' out Fee's candles like that? You better not've sprayed any spit on this lovely cake, you drunkard."
"Yes, I don't want to catch herpes," Felix says, rolling his eyes as he passes around the gold-leaf embossed paper plates and bamboo mini cake forks that Kitty bought along with her, each emblazoned with the logo of the upmarket bakery which baked the once-magnificent cake.
Disposable mini cake forks and gold-leaf paper plates. That's a new level of rich-people-craziness.
Kitty ladles out the smooshed-up cake onto our plates with a large dessert spoon, and despite its chaotic appearance, it's absolutely divine - all rich dark chocolate and sweet strawberry buttercream.
"Let's do a toast," Kitty says, refilling everyone's champagne glasses for the hundredth time that night.
I've been feeling more and more buzzy as the evening progresses, constantly promising myself I'll slow down after the next drink, I'll do the responsible thing and refuse the next refill - but it's easier said than done.
I look around at the group - Kitty slurring her words, Lyall with his cheeks and the tip of his nose flushed a tell-tale bright pink, Alastaire's bright blue eyes slightly bleary and unfocused - and I realise that Felix and Ben are the only ones not visibly drunk right now.
We should probably all stop drinking before the night gets messy and turns into a puke-fest. At the rate Alastaire's downing bottles of champagne, it's got to all come back up sometime soon.
"I'll start," Lyall says, raising his glass high up in the air. "Fee... I've known yer for..." he pauses to think, before continuing "more than ten years and countin'. You've been the best friend a lad could ask for. Here's to ten more years o' crazy shenanigans, music and mayhem."
Everyone raises their glass and drinks.
Felix is smiling at Lyall, but I catch something in his beautiful gold-flecked hazel eyes - a strange and unexpected emotion, there for such a brief moment that I can't but wonder if I imagined it.
Sadness? Guilt? Or maybe both?
"I'll never forget the day that Fee an' I first met," Lyall continues. "Me an' mam showed up at Lockhart Estate fresh off the boat from Creeslough. It was the grandest place that seven-year-old me had ever seen - a great big house, stables, a driveway up to the manor house, lined with grand old oak trees an' statues, like somethin' out of a movie. A-"
"Yes, yes, the Lockhart faaaamily is a lot of filthy rich snobs and you were bamboozled by all their marvellous shiny riches," Alastaire says sarcastically, his voice slightly slurred as he takes another sip of his champagne.
"Well that's rich comin' from you, Mr. Daddy-bought-me-a-helicopter-for-my-sixteenth-birthday," Lyall shoots back sarcastically at Alastaire. "Now shut yer drunk gob and let me finish, you aristotwat."
Aristotwat... aristocrat twat. Hmmm. I guess Lyall really is a bit tipsy. He only gets sassy like this when he's had plenty to drink.
"Anyway... where was I..." Lyall continues, "...ah, yes. I guess you could say I was feelin' pretty overwhelmed, rockin up this fancy ol' house, out'a my depth. Mam was taken around for a tour of the grounds and the manor house, learnin' her new duties I 'spose - and I was left to hang around our new digs, the staff cottage, get settled in. I got bored after a while and went explorin' that massive garden. After a while I found the hedge maze, and as you can imagine, I got lost. Keep in mind, I was just a wee lad, seven years old, and I was scared and all alone, and I got to cryin' - and who do you think came to my rescue?"
He nods solemnly at Felix, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Fee heard me cryin', and he came to find me," Lyall says. "You can imagine how thrilled I was... another little boy, someone to play with. I thought to myself then, well, maybe this place won't be so bad. Fee had my back then, and he has my back still. We've been thick as thieves all these years - so thanks Fee. You're..."
Tears are welling up in Lyall's big brown eyes, and his flushed face is turning even pinker.
"You're more than just a bestie," Lyall says softly. "You're like a brother to me. Happy eighteenth birthday, Fee."
Alastaire makes a retching sound, while Kitty says "awwwwww".
Felix smiles awkwardly, looking slightly embarrassed, muttering "thanks". He's hovering near Lyall, looking like he's trying to decide whether to go in for a hug, but then he notices the look of utter astonishment on my face.
"What?" He asks.
"What what?" I ask back.
"Why do you look so shocked?" Felix asks.
"Oh... I just... I never knew any of that," I say, feeling self-conscious about my ignorance. The boys know that before I met them, I was a huge Fable fan - and like any fan, I know a lot about them and their personal lives. Or at least, whatever BYG saw fit to release about them to the press, and whatever they themselves shared on social media or revealed in interviews.
I'd always known that unlike the others, Felix and Lyall had been friends before they formed the band - but I had no idea that their friendship went so far back, or that Lyall actually lived with Felix since childhood.
"Lyall, did you mom work for Felix's family?" I ask, hoping I'm not prying.
"Still does," Lyall says, shrugging. "She's their housekeeper. I tried to convince her she doesn't need to work anymore on account of... well, you know... royalties from our music and all that..." he blushes slightly as he says this, clearly uncomfortable talking about money, "but I guess she's comfortable there. Felix's folks are good people, aye Felix? Kitty?"
The siblings share a quick, veiled look between themselves, but Lyall is oblivious to their discomfort and continues to speak.
"They never treated me mam any different, or me either for that matter, despite me bein' the son of 'the help' an' all," Lyall says. "They even paid for me to attend boarding school with Fee."
"I had no idea," I say, trying to take all the surprising new information in.
"Well of course you didn't, it's not public knowledge," Alastaire says airly as he takes another swig straight from the open champagne bottle in his hands. Like Kitty, he's slurring slightly, and is probably just a few sips away from being categorically wasted.
"We're very selective about what we share with the wiiiider... the wider... w-world," he says slowly, placing the champagne bottle down on the coffee table, before lying back and sprawling out on the plush white-carpeted floor. "If you think you.... knooooow everything there is to know about us, th-think again, Cupc... cuppa... cupca... cupp... eee. Cuppie."
He reaches out towards me, his arm snaking over the carpet, his sky blue eyes hazy and unfocused.
"Goodness... there's two of you, Cuppie," Alastaire says, gazing up at me. "Two... two cuppies."
"No more bubbles for you," Kitty slurs, reaching over and taking the bottle of champagne. "Y-you're drunk."
"Rich coming from you Kit, you're more boozed up than Al!" Ben laughs, grabbing the bottle out of her hands and stowing it safely out of her reach.
"You drank just as much as we did," Kitty says, trying to grab the bottle back.
"Yeah, but I have this little thing called endurance," Ben says, dishing up more of the delicious cake-slop out of the cake box and onto his plate. "Compared to you lightweights, I'm practically made of steel. Speaking of lightweights... want a refill, Ash? You've been nursing that same glass of champagne for a while."
I shake my head, certain that I don't want to get as wasted as Kitty and Alastaire are.
What ever happened to it being just an hour or two and an early night? Damn.
"That actually looks ...hic... like a good idea," Kitty says, staring at Alastaire as he lounges back on the floor. She lies back on the plush carpet beside him.
"Welcome to my fluffy floory abode," Alastaire mutters as Kitty sinks into the soft white shag carpet. "Hmm... the ceiling's spinning. Fun."
"It's a pity Elliot can't be here," Kitty murmurs. "It doesn't feel right ...hic... celebrating like this without him. How's... how's... Si-"
But before she can finish, Felix interrupts her.
"Shut up Kitty," he says. "That's Elliot's business, remember?"
Kitty props herself up on her elbows and looks blearily over to me, before nodding and lying back down on the carpet.
"C'mon Felix, can't we just tell her?" Ben says between shovelling mouthfuls of cake down at speed, as if he's been starving for days and hadn't just eaten a massive roast dinner just hours earlier. "Ash won't tell... and seriously, Elliot won't mind."
Felix looks thoughtful for a moment, then nods, seeming to have made up his mind.
"Ash, you know how we aren't allowed to-" Felix starts to explain, clearly about to reveal Elliot's secret.
"Wait," I say, stopping him mid-sentence. "It's ok. I don't mind not knowing what's going on with Elliot. He can tell me himself, if he wants to."
I'm not entirely sure, but I'm guessing that their reticence to say more has something to do with the band's contract with BYG Records. Being the entertainment agency's biggest stars, they must have certain obligations - including the obligation to silence and secrecy when required.
It's starting to dawn on me just how much BYG really does control their lives. In Portland they were far away from the label's influence. Hidden away making music in a cabin in the woods, they had a taste of freedom for the first time in years. But here in London, they are in the belly of the beast, so to speak - right under BYG's watchful eyes.
And I'm willingly signing myself up for this life...
"Benji, be a good... a good lad and top me up," Alastaire slurs, extending an invisible non-existent champagne glass in Ben's direction.
"As if," Ben says, rolling his eyes. "What you need is water."
"Lyall, you sweet lad?" Alastaire pleads, trying to appeal to Lyall's kindhearted nature. "Pllleeeeeaaasssseee?"
"Nope, I'm with Benji on this one," Lyall says. "Water for you. And maybe for me, too. I've had a bit more o' the drink than I should've."
"Good idea," Felix says. "I think I saw some bottles of sparkling water in the mini fridge. Get one for Kitty too."
"I'm fine," Kitty insists, but she definitely doesn't look fine. Like Alastaire, she's basically wasted, and I'm half expecting her to pass out at any moment.
How are they even getting home? Worst case scenario Alastaire can sleep on the sofa and Kitty can share my Queen-sized bed, I guess. But it's not ideal.
"Cup-cuppie, you'll pour me some more champers, won't you?" Alastaire says, trying to melt my heart with his best puppy dog eyes.
"You need water and sleep," I say.
Maybe I should just let him and Kitty both pass out on the carpet. It's nice and thick and soft, not a bad place to sober up.
It's a weird thought that just a few months ago, I'd barely been around underage drinking, let alone taken part in it. I'd been to parties, sure, but had never drunk enough to get even slightly tipsy. But somehow whenever I'm with the Fable boys (and especially when Kitty's in the mix), I end up drinking like a fish.
It could be worse, I guess. When you think of a wild rock 'n roll lifestyle, hard drugs and promiscuity are what automatically comes to mind. Drinking isn't such a big deal compared to say, cocain... or worse, really hardcore stuff like heroin, which a lot of the rock greats were (and probably still are) addicted to.
"I'm glad you guys are just drunkards and you aren't addicted to heroin," I think to myself, realising a moment too late that I said the words out loud.
Eeep. I guess I'm a bit tipsier than I thought. No more drinking for me, either.
Luckily no one's around to hear it - Felix and Lyall are on the other side of the massive suite rummaging through the crowded mini fridge for bottles of spring water to pour down Kitty and Alastaire's gullets, and Ben's sprawled out on my bed playing some game on his phone. Kitty and Alastaire are right next to me, but they're so far gone that they're not likely to have heard what I said anyway.
"Herrrrroin... haha. Don't do drugs Ash..." Kitty lectures me drunkenly, rolling onto her side and propping herself up so she can look at me. "It's a bad idea. And you know ...hic... what else is a bad idea? Falling in love. Don't... EVER... fall in love."
Before I can ask Kitty what she's talking about, she's sitting up, trying to pin me with her gaze but failing on account of her being unable to keep her eyes open.
"Does Jade have a new ...hic... girlfriend?" She asks. "Not that I care of course. And does he seem sad or depressed or anything? Not that it's any of my concern, I'm ...hic... TOTALLY over it. Did you know, he broke up with me? I think... I think I might close my eyes for a bit...."
And then she lies back down on the carpet, sheds a single tear and passes out.
Alastaire mutters a complaint as Felix and Lyall prop him up and start pouring a one litre bottle of sparkling water down his throat.
It's weird seeing Alastaire like this - drunk and messy to the point that he might actually pass out. This Alastaire is a far cry from the polished, carefully-curated Cassanova I've gotten used to spending time with.
It's refreshing for a change to see him so vulnerable, but also quite unnerving.
Why did he drink so much more than usual? Is he upset about something?
Felix tries to prop Kitty up, wanting her to drink some water, but she's half-asleep, swatting him away with a moan.
So instead he takes a cushion off the bed and props her head up, shaking his own head in disapproval at her sorry state.
"I should take her home," he says. "Back to her apartment so she can sleep this off."
"It's probably a good idea," I say, looking from Kitty to Alastaire where they lie sprawled out on the carpet.
Alastaire's more wasted than Kitty is, appears solidly passed out and is a lot heavier. It'll be tricky for Felix, Lyall, and Ben to get both Alastaire and Kitty - all that dead weight - downstairs into a waiting Uber, or whatever they're planning on doing.
A momentary image flashes into my mind - a memory of the night the boys left Portland three months ago while we were being pursued by fans from the July Jubilee.
A huge brawny giant of a man in a black suit, trying to hold back Jade while the helicopter hovered overhead... Felix picking up the enormous man and flinging him across the highway singlehandedly, as if he were nothing more than a crumpled piece of paper... as if... as if Felix had superhuman strength... which is impossible...
I shake the stupid thoughts away, assuring myself that I'm just remembering it wrong.
"And what about Alastaire?" I ask. "He's too heavy to carry down the stairs, and he can't stay here."
"I agree," says Felix. "We'll just throw him out the window into the street and hope he doesn't hit any pedestrians or traffic. We can scrape him up off the sidewalk and stuff him into a taxi if he survives."
"How... dare... you," Alastaire mutters slowly, his eyes still closed. "That sidewalk must be filthy, with all those people walking on it. I won't have my flawless complexion contaminated."
"Good, at least you're still semi-conscious," Felix says while rolling his eyes. "That'll probably make things a fraction of a percent easier than lugging you down the stairs comatose."
"Nooooo!" Alastaire objects. "Just leave me here tonight, on Cuppie's carpet. We're having a... slumber party. You're not invited, grumps."
"No, you're coming home with me and the others," Felix says, a note of finality and scolding in his voice. "But not until I've had a chat with Ash out on the balcony. In private. Lyall, Ben, can you guys look after these inebriated muppets for me? Ash and I need to talk."
I'm about to argue with him, to object to his forceful manner - but his face is set in an expression of grim determination, and I know that whatever it is, it's important.
"Ok, let's talk," I say, and I allow Felix to lead me out through the French double doors into the cool night air.
About time.