Immortal

  ‘We’ve only just run their childhood sweethearts stories,’ she said, ‘it should do for a few days.’

  ‘That’s not enough,’ Nectar said. She knew he was right. ‘We need them to speak about the chances of becoming immortal. That’s what the media are waiting for.’

  She knew that all too well.

  Will and Joe, the childless members of the band, were under enormous pressure from their immortal fans, convinced that the boys’ conversion to immortality was only a matter of time. The question: When will Joe and William become Immortals?, endlessly paraphrased, had served as a front-page headline to almost every immortal service for the last month, and the speculations attempting to answer that question, densely populated the other pages. Some services also started a hot debate on John and Patrick, trying to diminish their value to the band and wanting them to be replaced by Immortal musicians. It had the potential of turning very ugly and even creating a rift between the band members.

  ‘They refuse any comment at the moment,’ she said.

  ‘Then make the comment for them or something!’ Nectar was on a verge of losing his temper. ‘Why can’t they just say they are considering it? Would that hurt them? It doesn’t mean they have to follow it through, but the media would give us some breathing space.’

  She had no answer to that. Nectar didn’t understand that for these guys flirting with immortality wasn’t an option. They were Mortals by choice and didn’t feel like explaining themselves to anybody or lying just to keep the public happy. All they wanted to do was to play good rock music and to spend Christmas with their families.

  ‘You know this wouldn’t solve the problem, Nectar,’ she said. ‘If they declared they’re thinking of becoming Immortals, they’d never hear anything but When? and What’s stopping you? They don’t want to go down that route and we can’t force them.’

  ‘I’m sick of hearing what we can’t do!’

  ‘Look, I’ll try again to speak to them about the extra concerts,’ Amari wanted to get off the idatron. She didn’t appreciate her boss’s outbursts. ‘I have to go now.’

  When he hang up, she run her fingers through her hair and tried to rub some pain out of her neck and shoulders. She hadn’t had a moment of relaxation for days and the pressure from the media and her boss was heavier than ever before in her career.

  I have to speak to Daniel about those extra concerts again, she thought. She would never pressure them to make a declaration regarding possible immorality, but when it came to the End of Year Festival, Nectar was right. Hopefully Daniel will see eye to eye with me this time and help me persuade the guys to sacrifice their Christmas family time just this once. After all, this isn’t like any other year in their lives, so their families should understand that.

  She switched on her idatron. Even though she’d gone through her inbox a few hours ago, the messages had already piled up, each more urgent than the previous one; even Eiko’s prioritizing function would not save her from working late into the night.

  As she worked through the new messages, one of them drew her attention. It was from an Immortality Clinic, but from a different address, not the one that Dr. Life’s been using to communicate with her and Daniel in the last few weeks. She opened it, hoping it wouldn’t be another urgent ‘consultation’ that they would have to attend. Ever since he met with Daniel, Dr. Life had seriously started drawing up his plan of bridging the gaps between Mortals and Immortals, and they could hardly refuse to help him after what he did for Susan.

  ‘Dear Miss Quinn,’ the message said, ‘it is with great pleasure that we inform you of your eligibility for additional services that you can use during your upcoming Cure-reapplication visit to our clinic. Please see the details below and should you have any questions, one of our consultants will be happy to answer them for you. We look forward to seeing you for your annual appointment on Friday, December 24th, 2106.’

  She scanned the list of perks she was being offered. They were extremely exclusive procedures that she knew even very few Immortals had access to. Rejuvenation of teeth enamel, full-body skin firming, muscle toning and blood vessel elastication were just some of them. She could even spend a few days in the clinic getting every treatment on her eligibility list. She certainly deserved a treat after all the hard work she’d done this year, and it would give her new energy for the upcoming months.

  ‘By the way,’ Daniel asked, coming out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips, ‘I never asked you if you had any plans for the break at the end of December. We could maybe go skiing in the Swiss Alps, what do you think?’

  She looked up from the projection and smiled at him. She’d loved skiing since he taught her how to do it during their trip to Nepal. He’d promised then to take her to all the best slopes in the world.

  She closed the message from her Immortality Clinic. She didn’t want to bring up her biological status now. I can always change the date of my appointment, two weeks won’t make a difference, she thought. Skiing with Daniel would be so much fun.

  But then she remembered that they would probably not have time to do it. If the band agreed to play the extra concerts, they would spend that time planning and working. It was the last thing she wanted to do, but she had no choice. And the hardest thing wasn’t even putting the concerts together. First, she had to convince her clients to agree to play them and she needed Daniel’s help.

  ‘I don’t understand why you are bringing this up again,’ Daniel said, ‘the Christmas break has been in the calendar from day one. We’ve discussed it umpteen times already.’

  ‘I know, Daniel. But I don’t think either of us realized that Carpe Diem would be in such high demand as they are now,’ she said, ‘we’ve got VIPs, including the US president, calling every hour asking for tickets and we have to turn them all down. They are important people.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Amari, but I think you are forgetting whom we are representing here,’ Daniel replied. ‘Carpe Diem are a mortal band, remember? All four of them are Mortals, and like many Mortals, they happen to celebrate Christmas. And their VIPs are their families. Not politicians or celebrities.’

  ‘A mortal band,’ she fired right back, annoyed that he wouldn’t even consider persuading them, ‘who are trying to break into the immortal market, remember?’ she said. ‘Which was the sole reason I got involved in promoting them in the first place. The reason I met you and we started working together. They can’t just ignore the fact that this is prime entertainment time in the immortal world, in fact the week leading up to New Year is probably the most important seven days in the entire year, not to mention the New Year’s Eve party! Whoever puts up the best show on that night is on everyone’s lips for the following month at least and we need that! We could arrange an exclusive concert and invite selected guests; we could steal the most prominent VIPs from other events. Dr. Life would probably come again. This would put us way ahead of the game, seal Carpe Diem’s spot on top of all charts. Don’t they understand that? Don’t they care about their careers?’

  ‘You know they do, Amari,’ Daniel mitigated. ‘But their families are more important to them than anything. They’ve been looking forward to this break for months.’

  ‘They could have the break in January, if it’s so crucial,’ she said. ‘We could easily arrange that. But to disappear from the scene between December 24th and January 3rd is commercial suicide in this business.’

  ‘I agree it would be beneficial to their publicity,’ Daniel said, ‘but I think you are exaggerating, Amari. People come to Carpe Diem’s concerts because they love their music. They won’t suddenly stop just because there is no concert between Christmas and New Year.’

  ‘Maybe they won’t immediately,’ she pressed on, ‘but some of those VIPs we have to turn down may take offence and a lot of them are influential people, rooted in the mass media. If we don’t keep them happy, they might cause us problems. Have you thought of that?’

  ‘There is
always someone criticizing Carpe Diem,’ he pointed out, ‘and so far it hasn’t influenced ticket sales. I think keeping the band happy should be more of our priority than pleasing celebrities. And what the boys need now is to see their families and be able to spend a peaceful Christmas with them, especially as they were promised this break back in February, when they signed their contracts for this tour. We’ve got to respect that, Amari.’

  ‘Well, it seems we have no choice,’ she gave in, feeling that the battle was lost; she had no more ammunition to throw into the equation, and definitely nothing strong enough to refute this ultimate argument, the contract, which Daniel had negotiated before she got involved. She suddenly felt angry with him for signing that contract. He should have known better, having worked with Immortals before. ‘I just want them to realize that they are missing a massive opportunity here. I don’t want them to regret it later on, or blame me.’

  ‘They understood your arguments, trust me,’ he said, ‘but their families still come first at Christmas. Before work, fame or money.’

  She had no answer to that. She felt powerless and that frustrated the hell out of her. Over the last few days she heard the word ‘Christmas’ with the frequency of a hummingbird’s wing beats, from the band members and Daniel’s team. They were all very excited about it, but it wasn’t the type of excitement that she herself would normally feel around this time of the year. For her, it was a period of intense work, the frenzy of preparation for big New Year’s Eve events. This time last year she was pulling off 18-hour days getting The Universe open, and every year prior to that she had a big project on her hands. A big, creative, innovative event that would wow the public, bring her agency another industry award for best entertainment, and secure business for the following year.

  This year there would be nothing. Her biggest and only client, Carpe Diem, the most sought-after rock band in the world, would not perform for eleven days in a row, missing the entire festive season. Giving the competition an advantage. Letting someone else entertain the stars, the business tycoons, the politicians, the artists. For the first time since she started in PR, Amaranthine would not have a show to choreograph and present to her clients, because John, Patrick, William and Joe wanted to see their families for Christmas.

  ‘Hey,’ Daniel smiled at her, trying to make peace. ‘Look on the bright side, gorgeous. We’ll be able to spend so much more time together.’ He came over to her and put his hands on her arms, rubbing them from shoulder to elbow. ‘What do you think of the skiing idea?’

  She looked up at him, then took a step back and retreated to the safety of her work station.

  A sudden chill spilled all over her body.

  What is going on with you, she asked herself. You are forgetting who you are. You were actually prepared to become a Mortal for this guy, because postponing the Cure re-application would mean exactly that – being a mortal human being. For a couple of weeks, but still. If the Cure didn’t get re-applied into her body on December 24th, she would be biologically mortal from that day onwards until the time of the new appointment.

  And the day of the new appointment would then become her new immortali day.

  This thought had the effect of a freezing shower. She shivered, her skin covered with goose bumps, and all her instincts and reflexes pulled together to get her away from it.

  ‘I can’t do that,’ she raised her chin and looked him in the eye. ‘I have my annual Cure re-application appointment at an Immortality Clinic in New York. I’d rather not postpone it.’ She shivered more at the sound of her own voice. It was icily impassive. And ultimate.

  His face and body transformed. The warm fire in his eyes, evoked by the prospect of being with her for so many undisturbed days, dimmed and doused; his arms, extended to embrace her and pull her to his chest tensed and dropped to his sides. He stood there for a few moments, taken aback, processing the blow she struck him with, trying to fill the emptiness she left behind.

  She shifted her gaze to her idatron and sat down at her desk. In the corner of her eye, she saw him slowly nod his head as if he was coming to terms with something overwhelming that’s just dawned on him. Then he turned around on his heel and walked out of the room, his usual perky gait replaced with a heavy stride that bordered on staggering. The time it took him to reach the door allowed an easy opportunity for her to stop him. She knew that although she hurt him, he would turn around and talk to her if she only made the smallest gesture asking him to stay.

  She did nothing.

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  ‘Just get him a tie,’ Angela said. ‘You can’t go wrong with a tie.’

  ‘But it’s so… obvious,’ Maddie fussed. ‘And mundane. I’d rather get him something special, like…’ she raised her eyes to the ceiling in search of inspiration. ‘God, why are men so impossible to buy for?’

  ‘Why are men impossible now?’ Frankie burst into the meeting room. He waved to Amaranthine, who was sitting at the far end of the long table, focused on her idatron, and sat down by the two women.

  ‘Maddie’s looking for ideas what to buy her boyfriend for Christmas,’ Angela explained.

  ‘Just get him a tie,’ Frankie offered. ‘You can’t go wrong with a tie.’

  ‘What is it with you and ties?’ Maddie rolled her eyes. ‘So boring!’

  ‘At least there is a slight chance he may wear it,’ Angela said. ‘You go smarty-creative and it’s going to end up on the bottom of his drawer. At least until he thinks you’ve forgotten about it and it’s safe to get rid of it.’

  Maddie’s face clearly indicated that she wasn’t giving up. A few seconds later, she came up with another idea.

  ‘How about a board game? What do you think?’

  ‘Does he play board games?’

  ‘No,’ she admitted, ‘but it doesn’t mean he can’t start now, right?’

  Amaranthine pretended to be engrossed with her work, but she couldn’t concentrate. She had to listen. The others, who were killing time until the meeting started, probably thought she was going over the details of what needed to be discussed and decided upon. She never showed interest in anyone’s Christmas plans and she kept her own plans to herself, so even though they’d been really nice to her since they found out what she did for Susan, they assumed she didn’t want to be involved in those chats that had been their favorite pastime in the last few weeks.

  She projected indifference, but in reality she felt frustration swell up in her like a tsunami wave. It seemed there was nothing else on anyone’s mind these days apart from Christmas. They spoke of gifts, decorating trees, baking and cooking, over and over again. The most irritating mantra that she kept hearing was ‘I hope it snows, I really want this Christmas to be white.’ If snow is so important to you, she thought, why don’t you just go somewhere that has it in abundance? She found it harder and harder not to comment out loud, but she silenced herself. They weren’t speaking to her.

  Most annoyingly, this constant Christmas rattling kept bringing Daniel to her mind. It had been very awkward between them ever since she said she wasn’t spending the break with him. He busied himself on locations most of the time nowadays, checking sound systems and security, but she knew it was just an excuse; European venues were much more reliable than most of those they’ve used so far, so they hardly needed all that attention. At night, he went back to see his family; it was close enough now that they were in Europe, plus they had a lot less work. Ever since they’d confirmed to the public that Carpe Diem wouldn’t be playing over the festive season, the celebrities and most of the media seemed to have shifted their focus elsewhere; Amaranthine was just hoping it was a temporary trend and wouldn’t be the end of the band’s hike to fame.

  She checked the time – it was 8:57am. The meeting would start in three minutes which meant Daniel would be there in two and a half. Not a moment sooner that he had to.

  ‘Morning, Amari,’ Tom and Gary walked in and took their seats.

  ‘Good morn
ing.’

  She stood up and moved her idatron to the center of the table, so that everyone could see the projection. She was ready.

  As the conversations stopped to let her begin, Daniel walked through the door.

  ‘Morning everyone,’ he flashed a smile, but didn’t manage to keep it on his lips for long enough to make it look natural. Amaranthine wondered if the Mortals noticed recent changes in his behavior, and if so, if they suspected their source.

  He sat at the top of the table, next to Amaranthine; his usual spot at team meetings. Everything seemed to be the same and yet all was different. She remembered the look he used to give her in those exact circumstances just a few weeks ago, a look that intimated: I wish I could just walk over to you right now and kiss you in front of everyone. Better still, we should be able to walk into this room together, hand in hand, instead of pretending that we hadn’t just spent the night in the same bed.

  The only thing that remained the same from those days was his scent; his favorite cologne that blended so well with the natural smell of his skin. It felt more intense ever since they’d stopped sharing rooms. Since they’d stopped sharing their lives.

  Suddenly, she felt an overwhelming urge to speak to him about their relationship, to clear the air. Right after the meeting, she thought. I can’t stand this any longer.

  ‘Shall we?’ she began, bringing up the first screen on the projection.

  The meeting was brief, at least compared to what they usually were. They went over all the details regarding French, German and Swiss venues, repertoires, press conferences and releases in under two hours. Amaranthine felt her heart speed up as the last question got answered and everyone was free to go. She knew she had to act quickly, before he would get up and disappear for the day.

  ‘Daniel,’ she managed to keep the professional tone, ‘there is one other thing I would like to discuss with you if you don’t mind.’

  ‘Of course,’ he replied and turned to Frankie who lingered by the door, waiting for him. ‘See you downstairs, buddy. Won’t be long.’