When my world suddenly shrunk to the size of a pea, "Hot Girl World" grew bigger and bigger. We are back in the United States again for "Saturday Night Live." Since its launch in 1975, "Saturday Night Live" has become a beloved show -- it is truly a comedy stage that anyone with influence in the entertainment industry comes to if they can. this show. The "Hot Girls" album has sold more than two million copies in the United States and is still climbing.
"Saturday Night Live" is exactly what it says: live. That meant we couldn't lip-sync to recorded tracks like we'd been doing before. Nowadays, very few people sing live on TV - it's too risky to do so, and the result may sound extremely bad - it has nothing to do with whether you can sing or not. Long gone are the days when John, Paul, George and Ringo would just stop there with their guitars in hand.
But when Noel Gallagher won the live performance award on Capital Radio, he attacked the Spice Girls and said, "When are we going to have live concerts?"
At that time, the band "Oasis" was still going strong, and the word spread all over the world. What he doesn't realize is that we are all trained performers, and live performance is our strength. It's just that we didn't do it in public. In a live performance, it's not your voice that you worry about, but all those various speakers and the harmony between you and the musicians.
"Saturday Night Live's" tradition is to use their in-house musicians -- which is fine; it's not like us bringing in our own band, where it could be a mess. What we really need is rehearsal time. There is a huge difference between singing live and singing on a co-written track. First of all, you can't be that energetic.
The show is scheduled for Saturday, April 12th. We sang "Idolworship" and "Say You'd Be There" -- commemorating those times with Matt, Biff, and Elliot Kennedy. The show went well. But it's not exciting. It could have been better, but the more important thing is that we did it. Psychologically we need to do this, especially as our next live performance will be at the Prince's Commission Charity Concert in Manchester, in front of Prince Charles and Jasper David.
I haven't seen David in 3 weeks. Although we kept talking on the phone, I could hardly stand it. First to the United States, then to Taiwan and Bali for more promotion and to meet some of the winners. In Taiwan, I really did magic tricks on TV. To celebrate my birthday, we went to a very shabby club in the basement of our hotel, danced to Abba music, and the girls gave me a "Tiffany" bracelet. As for Bali - oh, it all sounds so romantic, but give me a parking lot in East London with Jasper David, any day .
Simon remains adamant that we should appear in public as little as possible. But at the same time he was such a Manchester United fan that he began to play the role of a circus ringmaster.
A few weeks after David and I met, he suggested that we go away for a few days. Go to a great hotel in Italy that he knows well. He'll do all the bookings, he said, glancing at me. This will be entirely pseudonymous. He was basically arranging the first place we would have S3x. I felt like he wanted me to say, Oh, thank you, thank you, Simon. But that’s one thing I don’t want someone else to arrange for me.
David got down on his knees and asked me to marry him (picture)
First day of school at St. Mary's
David and I have been together for exactly six months, but "together" is not the right word. Most of the time, either I was abroad, or David was in Manchester and I was in London. Now things are about to get worse. Everything seemed to be slipping away from us, like an avalanche or something, and you couldn't control it. It seems like we all need something to hold on to.
I would have to leave the country in a week, and David decided we needed some time to ourselves. But his tournament schedule was so full at the end of August that we couldn't go anywhere else, not even on the weekends. So he asked the agent if he knew of any better hotels in the area. His agent told him about "Rockley Hall", not far from Nantwich, how nice and secluded it was, with only two exits from Route 6.
It was a nice old house in a beautiful spot - quite an old-fashioned hotel - but it seemed appropriate. Our room was light and cozy, overlooking the garden. The second night we were there, David proposed to me. Kneel down on your knees and ask me to marry him.
I didn't dare say anything to anyone. I'm still afraid of what Simon will say. Actually, I know what Simon would say, and he would be so angry that he would go crazy. He often repeated this statement again and again - a man will break up a "hot girl". So why didn't I just tell him and tell him to go to hell? The truth is I was terrified of what he was capable of. He has too much power and he will make it harder for me to see David. In any case, what comes next is difficult enough.
This matter must not be leaked. The ring can wait - what matters is our understanding and feelings for each other. We tried exchanging rings --- but my Tiffany ring wouldn't even fit on David's little finger. So we just moved our rings from our right hand to our left hand. We were like kids, we were so excited.
David's low profile
On May 3rd, he suggested that I go with him to watch the away game against Leicester City - of course, the tickets provided by "Porn" Pete - this time I brought them My sister.
David knew I was coming, but he explained that we wouldn't be able to meet. I do not mind. Although I went to Chelsea and Old Trafford on those two occasions, I never actually saw him play, didn't really see him, I just knew it was him and what was going on. I also know how important football is to him and I really want to understand that.
In fact, I actually saw him. Simon spoke to someone at Hazel Street and arranged for me to "change" in an office. Then he was waiting by the bus, and when he saw Griffin Gary, he told him to tell David that if he wanted to spend five minutes with me, David could do that.
The situation was really weird, together with the rows of cabinets, it was like an office love story. It was only about 5 minutes before someone knocked on the door. It's Gary.
"You'd better come now," he said through the door, "the old man is in the car."
On May 13th, we participated in the "Prince Commission Charity" concert in Manchester - a large-scale variety show charity performance - we will sing "Idol worshipper" and "Mother". The other girls were arriving the morning of the show and I said I wanted to go the night before. Simon wagged his finger as usual and said okay.
Then he asked me to remember to keep a low profile.
Victoria Williamson, who works for Simon, had to go early anyway, she would be keeping an eye on me. Or so Simon might have thought.
We booked a room at the Midland Hotel - a very nice, old-fashioned hotel with a very nice, old-fashioned back door. I called David and gave him instructions on how to get there.
"Don't forget," I said, "to keep a low profile."
So I waited there at the appointed time. Suddenly there was a sudden brake, and this dazzling metallic blue BMW stopped at the back door, with the hood open and the stereo blaring. The man, whose blond hair hung over his sunglasses, honked his horn. That's David's low profile.
9 o'clock. 10 o'clock. It's getting later. I mean, that's ridiculous. I am not 13 years old and I still need someone to tell me when to go home. At 11 o'clock, I called Tori.
"Look," I said, "if I don't go back, what are you going to say?" Because I don't want anyone to know. This has nothing to do with Simon--I want to keep this matter absolutely confidential.
"Just make sure you get back before anyone else gets here," she said.
So David dropped me back at the hotel very early the next morning. I quietly went upstairs to my room and made a mess on the bed to make it look like I had been there all night, like they often do in movies.
The ring that takes center stage
Saturday, August 30th. I have to leave in two days and I'm very upset. But I have to be happy for David's sake. At the beginning of last season - before I met him - he scored a really nice goal against Wimbledon, 57 yards from the half-way line - ---This is the longest goal ever kicked in the Premier League. We had watched the tape together and even I could see that the goal was so beautiful. In any case, this ball won him the "Sir Matt Busby Young Player of the Year Award". We all sat there, my mom and dad, his mom and dad, watching him receive the award. The crowd roared with cheers and David lifted the trophy into the air and turned around so everyone could see it. I felt very proud indeed. I want to shout out loud, this is the man I love, this is the man I want to marry. I clapped so hard that my hands hurt, as if I wanted him to hear my applause beyond the cheers of 67,000 people in the stadium.
After the award ceremony came the game: Manchester United vs. Coventry. During halftime we were back in the dugout as usual, having drinks, when my dad's phone rang. He gestured for me to come over.
"It's Louise," he said, giving me a strange look. "She said the press was at the door saying you and David were engaged or married or something. The place was surrounded, she said, with bouquets of flowers being delivered and the phone calls going like crazy. What happened? ?"
I just can't believe it. How did they find out? Because no one knows. No one, except my mother. I mean, the man in your dream wants you to marry him - there's no way you wouldn't tell your mother.
Everyone has to go back to their seats to watch the second half.
"Please, Dad, not now. I'll talk to you about this later," I said.
As usual, at the end of the game, David's father bought a copy of the "Pink Newspaper" from someone selling it outside the stadium. This is a sports newspaper published as soon as the game is over. I don't know how they made it so quickly. Anyway, David's mum and dad got into their car and I only saw the photo of David when we got back to Worsley's house.
There it was, on the front page: David holding the trophy, a ring on his left hand, and the headline read, "Eden Victoria is getting married." We were all standing in the kitchen - Sandra had just put the kettle on - and they (my mom, my dad, Sandra, Ted) were all looking at me, or rather Looking down at the Tiffany ring on my left hand.
Next, my cell phone rang. He was a lawyer working for Simon and was in charge of media affairs at the time. He was definitely a loyal lawyer--we often called him "The Grim Reaper."
This is exactly what I need. His voice sounded colder than a freezer. The media published photos of David with the ring on his engagement finger, and one of me with the ring on his engagement finger, he said. Of course I have to deny the engagement. The statement he was about to make was that David had mild inflammation of the finger on which he usually wore his ring, which was why he wore the ring on his other hand. And I usually wear the ring on my left hand. He would have the media believe that it meant nothing.
"Look," my mother said after I finished talking to him, "it's going to take something substantial to counteract this front-page story."
Early the next morning, Princess Diana died in a car accident in a tunnel in Paris. We didn’t find out until we left David’s house the next morning to drive to London. There were so many photographers waiting outside---We have encountered this kind of strange scene before, but nothing like this time. I have put the ring back on my right hand as "Death" said. But they didn't yell, "Show us your hands," or anything like that. They said: "Do you want to say anything about Diana?"
Diana? I remember thinking about it. What were they talking about? Seeing the confusion on my face, another person said, "Didn't you hear? Princess Diana died in a car accident last night." I looked at David. None of us said anything. Suddenly I felt scared.
We got in the car--the first big thing we bought together, a blue "Porsche"--and I called my mom. What they said about Diana was true. We drove towards London feeling completely unconscious.
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