For the fans

CONTENTS

Cover

Title Page

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter 1 ‘All Rise’

Chapter 2 ‘Bubblin’

Chapter 3 ‘If You Come Back’

Chapter 4 ‘Guilty’

Chapter 5 ‘This Temptation’

Chapter 6 ‘Invitation’

Chapter 7 ‘Too Close’

Chapter 8 ‘Make It Happen’

Chapter 9 ‘Broken’

Chapter 10 ‘Sanctuary’

Chapter 11 ‘I Am Who I Am’

Chapter 12 ‘Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word’

Chapter 13 ‘I Can’

Chapter 14 ‘Risk It All’

Chapter 15 ‘Bounce’

Chapter 16 ‘Hurt Lovers’

Chapter 17 ‘Without You’

Chapter 18 ‘Breathe Easy’

Chapter 19 ‘No Goodbyes’

Acknowledgements

Picture Section

Copyright

PROLOGUE

‘ONE LOVE’

20 February 2002 – Brit Awards, Earl’s Court, London

ANTONY

This was meant to be one of the best nights of Frank Skinner’s career, and just another evening out for the four of us. But the Fates, it seems, have other plans.

I’ve always loved Frank, and he’s definitely looking the part for one of the biggest jobs of his life – hosting the music industry’s most important event of the year, broadcasting live to millions of viewers at home, as well as entertaining us lot sitting in front of him. He bounds onto the stage at the start, smiling like the cat that got the cream, ready with a good joke to share. Sure enough, when he undoes his jacket, there it is – a big shiny Union Jack tie and shirt underneath. Not quite as stunning as Geri Halliwell in THAT dress, but still, pretty funny.

Sadly for Frank, it turns out that is to be his best moment, and we watch him bumble his way through the next two hours. His one-liners are falling on stony ground, while his co-host, Zoe Ball, stands beside him, looking increasingly unhappy. Frank will say later he was dying inside, this was the worst gig he’s ever done, one he will never, ever repeat – which is a shame as, only a few yards away at one of the tables, the four of us are having a whale of a time.

DUNCAN

This is actually one of Blue’s first proper grown-up nights out. The band’s only been together for a few months, and most of our evenings tend to end up in clubs where … well, let’s just say the wine might not be as good as at the Brits and the floor’s definitely a lot dirtier. And the places we hang out, you certainly don’t get to see Anastasia duetting with Jamiroquai, the first act on tonight’s bill. We all grew up watching these awards on TV, so when our record label told us we’d been nominated for the Breakthrough gong, there was only a pile of dust where we’d been standing; we’d already gone to pick out our suits.

LEE

The two best things about tonight – wearing a great suit, and the fact that we already know we’re not going to win. I’m not being falsely modest here, check out this list of our fellow nominees … our great mates Atomic Kitten, Starsailor, Mis-Teeq, So Solid Crew, Turin Brakes, Tom McRae, Zero 7, Elbow. Not enough talent on that list for you? Oh sorry, I forgot to mention Gorillaz in there as well. See what I mean?

So we’re not feeling any pressure, the wine’s flowing and we can revel in sitting in our glad rags at one of the top tables, gazing at proper stars like Kylie Minogue and Sting, laughing with – mostly at – Frank Skinner, and generally pinching ourselves.

SIMON

You know what, Frank’s actually pretty funny up there – but the four of us have always been easy to please. So we’re giggling our way through the night, while our glasses continue to be filled by an invisible hand. In fact, we’re having such a good time we almost miss our category being announced, until Trevor Nelson comes on stage to present the award: he looks the business.

ANTONY

Suddenly everything slows, and it feels like someone has turned the volume right down in this giant arena. Trevor slowly opens the envelope, and, is it me, or has the whole room gone completely still? It feels like five minutes, but it’s probably only a couple of seconds before he says one word, ‘Blue.’

DUNCAN

Now it’s a blur of hugs, the four of us jumping up and down, somehow making it onto the stage, gazing out at a sea of faces. I’m completely tongue-tied, but I’m in front of the microphone, so I mumble something about thanking the record label. Then Antony takes a turn, and he thanks the fans – I wish I’d done that first. Somehow, he always finds it easier to come up with the patter.

LEE

I’m gazing at the Award in front of us, and I’m remembering those days at school, when a teacher told me, ‘You’ll never make it as a singer.’

Then I start jumping up and down in the background – there’s always one!

SIMON

Cameras are flashing from every direction as we head backstage to more hugs. Everyone looks genuinely happy for us. It’s a myth that nobody gets on in the music industry. There are some great people if you know where to look, and we’ve been lucky.

DUNCAN

The Westlife boys are the first to come up to us, which means a lot. And then, wow … I’m dreaming! It’s Kylie, the princess I had on my wall back in Devon when I started dreaming about all of this. I can’t wait to tell my mum.

LEE

I’m laughing because Antony’s looking at the award in his hand and I’ve spotted him tearing up – he thinks no one’s noticed.

ANTONY

Lee gets a bit weepy, which is fair enough – he’s the youngest.

SIMON

I’m thinking, is this really happening? We’re just four silly lads in borrowed suits.

ANTONY

Half an hour later and we’re making our way into the after-show party in Knightsbridge. It’s only 11 miles from where I grew up in Edgware, but we could be on a different planet. The club’s party planners have gone overboard, and we walk along a stunning glass bridge, decked out with candles and coloured lights. More cameras flash as we get to the door – there are people everywhere. I can see my mum standing next to Duncan’s – two familiar faces at the centre of all this alien glamour, bizarrely the most surreal sight of all.

DUNCAN

I go straight over to see them. I’ve already phoned my mum from the car, but seeing her is what brings home just how special this all is. She whispers in my ear about how proud my grandparents would be. We lost them both within the last two years, and I give her another hug. But this isn’t a night to be sad.

LEE

I have to say, considering what a brain-ache we’ve been for our management on occasion, they know how to put on a party for us. They’ve been very generous tonight; the champagne is on tap, and I mean that literally, there it is in the middle of the bar. The music’s loud, and everyone in the room wants to congratulate us, praise us, take our photo, introduce us to someone else. Those other, cooler boys in school we always wanted to be? That’s us. Will I remember any of this in 16 years time? Possibly not. How can my ego withstand all this? I’ll worry about that tomorrow.

SIMON

The night goes on, and some time later, I spot my brother Duane over by the bar. He’s standing by himself, looking neither elated, nor jaded, by all this euphoric frenzy around him. Instead he looks bemused. I head over to him and for a few moments, neither of us says anything. Instead I join him in contemplating the scene, as if from outside looking in.

There’s Antony, the one I met last but now spend the most time with. He’s usually the most wary one in the band, the one reminding the rest of us not to count our chickens, that we have to read the small print – ‘Baby steps, people’ – but tonight he’s as happy as the rest of us, standing in the middle of his huge family, making them laugh with his impressions.

Duncan’s with his mum. It’s always been just the pair of them, and I’ve never seen a mother and son as close as those two. Tonight will mean as much to her as it does to him.

Lee’s laughing, dancing, surrounded by ladies, giving each of them his attention in turn. He doesn’t have a worry in the world, that one, and as another stunning girl goes up to give him a congratulatory hug, he looks over her shoulder and tips me a huge, happy wink.

So why do I say what I say next to my brother? Is it the roller-coaster ride we’ve already been on, the one quick year that’s seen us top the charts with our very first efforts, but also seen us come under attack, with astonishing abuse and even death threats? Or is it witnessing someone as armour-plated as Frank Skinner come unstuck when he least expected it earlier tonight? Is it the dark angel that sits quietly on my shoulder, and whispers tirelessly in my ear, as she always has since my childhood? Or is the overwhelming glamour of this night the proof I need that we are four very ordinary lads living an extraordinary existence for which we might not always be equipped? Tonight’s seen us join a brand new club, membership elite. Is it my imagination, or is life about to get a lot more complicated?

I should add I’ve also drunk rather a lot of the fine champagne on offer by this point, so chances are, I’m thinking none of the above, but something makes me turn to my brother and ask him, ‘Are you going to be there when this all disappears? Because it’s going to …’

I know, I know … how to stop a party in its tracks, right? And, to this day, more than a decade later, I don’t know where those dark thoughts came from. Because that night in February 2002 when we won our first Brit Award and were riding so high, I had no way of knowing what a path of highs and lows we were already on. It didn’t occur to me how much money would pass through our hands, how many millions of pounds we’d make for other people, while all four of us would end up scraping around to pay our bills. I couldn’t have guessed how much of our personal lives would become tabloid fodder for a press determined to bring us down, or how we would become accidental witnesses to tragedy, and then be engulfed in a media storm that nearly broke us before we’d begun. Nor did I realise how our friendships within the band would be challenged by living together in a bubble, and then having it burst when we least expected it.

All I sensed then, because my dark angel told me, was that we were a group of four young men who would in many ways be tested. And I was right.

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