Hi this is Paul and you've reached my messagebank because I'm too busy doing things that don't involve you. So, if you're after me for work, leave a message. If you're family, leave a message. If you're Genie, I love you and leave a message and if you're selling something - FUCK OFF!
          Gina giggled at Paul's unique message but was rather annoyed that he was still busy. She'd been trying all morning and now afternoon to get in contact with him. She decided she might as well leave a message this time. "Hey Pauly, it’s Gina. I've been ordered to interview you by the powers that be so call me soon ok? Oh yeah, and I love you too."
          Gina placed her phone back on the coffee table in Paul's apartment where she'd taken to covering everything in press releases and notes and she worked on her other articles as she waited for him to call back. It took her a further fifteen minutes to create a brief outline for the most urgent ones and since Paul still hadn't called she decided she might as well start typing them up. Gina got to her feet and sauntered into his study where both his PC and laptop were and decided it'd be easier to just use the laptop and save moving her notes around. She snatched it up from the desk and wandered back to the couch, placing the laptop gently on the coffee table and switched it on.
          "Ah crap," Gina groused as a little 'password' box appeared in the screen. How the hell was she supposed to know what his password was? It's not the type of thing that comes up in conversation over dinner, "So, darling what's the password to your computer where all your work is kept and you might just die if it were all lost?" Gina frowned at it for a few moments and then decided she might as well have a bash at cracking the code. She typed in everything that she could think of from 'Miro' to 'Mr Stinky' and still the password box stayed vividly on the screen. In frustration she typed 'Genie' and to her utmost surprise was greeted by the fanfare trumpets of Windows. Before she had a chance to click on Word her phone started squealing and she answered it without taking her eyes from the glowing computer screen. "I love you!"
          "I love you too," Paul replied sounding breathless. "Aren’t you lucky it was me calling and not someone selling carpet?"
          "I don't know, I could be excited about carpet."
          "You strange woman," Paul mused. "Look, I gotta keep this quick since I'm on like a half a second break. I had a meeting at GNW this morning and I've been rehearsing for the ARIA's tomorrow and I've already got two interviews lined up sometime between now and when I get home not to mention bloody E News stalking me. So, if it's ok with you I'll slot you in somewhere between me walking in the door and my head hitting the pillow."
          "I'll write it up over breakfast shall I?" Gina groused. "I'm really doing an article and I have a deadline."
          "I know you are babe but I'm on a tight fucking schedule and I can't just drop everything for a fucking interview."
          "I'm not asking you to babe," Gina spat. "I just want the respect you're giving the other journalists."
          "Yeah but I'm not sleeping with the other journalists," Paul chided. "And you love me so I can bend the rules a bit."
          Gina pouted into the phone for a moment, but she could tell he was tired and frustrated and that she was being unreasonable. "You are so lucky I'm a magnanimous human being."
          "A magnanimous human being with a great arse," Paul teased lecherously as his name was yelled in the distance. "Gotta go, later."
          Before she could get a goodbye out the call was ended and Gina let out a defeated sigh, all she could do was wait until Paul got home to do her interview. "Remind me to thank Mandy for the waste of a working day," she huffed and started typing out her first article.

          Gina was lying in bed reading a book about Miro when she heard the front door open. She glanced at the clock which showed that it was nearly 11:30pm as Paul staggered through the door. He crawled onto the bed, rested his head on her shoulder and didn't move.
          "Tired?" Gina asked, not taking her eyes from the book.
          "Fucked," Paul replied, his eyes tightly shut. She looked at him pitifully and put the book on the bedside table.
          "How did everything go?"
          "Wasn't too bad," Paul mumbled. "I can handle hosting the thing it's the fucking pretentious music bastards that give me the shits. There's this one guy who insists on pointing out that the audience will hate just about every joke and actually had the audacity to declare that he couldn't see why I was hosting when I have no musical talent."
          "What a arsehole!" Gina groused, stroking Paul's hair. "You should have smacked him in the head with your mic."
          Paul gave a tired laugh, "Mikey wanted to impale him on a large replica ARIA but I spat in his coffee when he wasn't looking and that made me feel better."
          "Usually I would be revolted but no one disses Paul McDermott's musical talent and escapes unharmed."
          "Disses?"
          "I watched Ricki Lake," Gina mused. "Amanda sent me home before lunch to interview you."
          "Oh, you've been here since then?" Paul breathed, opening his eyes and lifting his head to look at her. "Sorry."
          "Doesn't matter, I caught up on the rest of my work," Gina shrugged. "I used your laptop. Hope you don't mind?"
          "Nah, that's cool," Paul sighed closing his eyes again. "You worked out the password then?"
          "By complete fluke."
          "Is that why you loved me earlier?"
          "I love you anyway," Gina cooed and dropped a kiss on Paul's forehead. "Have you eaten."
          "You're always trying to feed me," Paul mused.
          "That's not answering the question."
          "I think I had a hotdog at around four."
          "Then you should eat, want some cheese on toast?"
          "I'll have nightmares if I have cheese," Paul declared. "Besides I don't have any food."
          "Yeah you do, I got bored waiting and went shopping," Gina perked. "Even stocked up your beer."
          Paul sat up and looked at her wearily. "Did you buy English muffins?"
          "I did actually," Gina smiled. "And Irish tea."
          "Then I'll let you fulfill your quest to feed me."
          "I only do it cos I care," Gina sighed.
          "I love that you care," Paul grinned and leaned close to brush his lips against hers. "Now get my dinner wench while I shower and get the thick layer of sweat off my skin," he declared, rolling off the bed. "Y'know I spent so much time under studio lights I think I actually sweat off layers of flesh."
          "Saves sitting in the corner with your tongue hanging out panting like a dog," Gina teased as she brushed past him on her way out the room.
          "Yeah, I save that for when you walk in the room," Paul grinned as Gina stopped and looked over her shoulder at him. He made a groping action with his hands and she shook her head as she made her way out of the room. "COME BACK, I WANT TO FONDLE YOU!" Paul yelled and heard Gina giggling from the kitchen.

          While making Paul's dinner, Gina had put on the television and got caught up in the late news. By the time it finished and she returned to bed, Paul's plate and mug were empty and he was fast asleep. She felt so sorry for him being so run off his feet and decided to set her alarm early and do her interview then. Gina gently slid back beneath the covers and switched off the bedside light. She watched Paul sleep for a little while, illuminated by the glow from the clock before she whispered. "Night Pauly," dropped a kiss on his cheek and snuggled up next to him and she too was soon asleep.

          "Shut up," Gina groused as Paul's alarm beeped loudly in the early hours of the morning. She belted the sleep button before remembering that she had actually set it and why she'd set it. "Pauly, wake up," she said softly nudging him.
          "What time is it?" he mumbled.
          "6:30," Gina breathed, her hand searching out his arm beneath the covers and giving it a gentle squeeze.
          "What? Then why am I waking?"
          "You owe me an interview."
          "Now?" Paul whined, managing to open one eye as he rolled onto his back.
          "Please, I've got to have it in by nine," Gina breathed, sitting up and grabbing her dictaphone from the bedside table. Paul rubbed his face and tried valiantly to open his eyes.
          "I can't promise I won't fall asleep," he yawned.
          Gina narrowed her sleepy eyes at him a moment. "I'll just have to distract you," she mused and crawled on top of him, her legs straddling his hips.
          "You realise that now all the blood will rush away from my brain," Paul mused, still not awake enough to move.
          "Nothing new there then," Gina perked and switched on her dictaphone. "So, how do you feel about the hosting the ARIA's?"
          Paul yawned and tried to focus. "It's the highlight of my life, I couldn't be anymore excited. In fact I'm so excited about being the music industry's performing monkey for the night I'm lactating," he declared deadpan.
          "I'll skip the bit about you lactating," Gina sighed. "Are you excited by your nomination?" she asked cheekily dropping a kiss on his chest.
          "Yeah, I mean it's always nice to be appreciated by the industry but I don't necessarily agree with awards shows as such because they create competition and I never think that's a good thing," Paul smiled as he found the strength to stoke her arm.
          "You don't agree with competition?"
          "Not when it's glamorised and makes people get all bitchy and shit. I mean, all of the people in the industry are talented right? So they should all get awards, not just a select few."
          "Doesn't that make you hypocritical? You'll host the thing and receive an award but you disagree with the entire concept."
          "I get paid nicely, the booze is free and there's the possibility I'll walk away with something shiny," Paul mused. "I might be a hypocrite but I'm not stupid."
          "You'll have to beat Jimeoin and the 12th Man First," Gina chided.
          "I'm up against Jim? Shit," Paul pouted.
          "I know, his album was really good too."
          "Hey!"
          "But he can't sing Throw Your Arms Around Me half as well as you babe," Gina giggled.
          Paul snatched her dictaphone and turned it off. "I'm calling an end to this interview because of media cruelty."
          "Oh come on," Gina whined. "That was only a couple of questions."
          "Make it up, I don't care," Paul groused as he fiddled with the dictaphone.
          "Paul!" Gina huffed.
          "Gina!" Paul mocked and switched the dictaphone back on. "I'll interview you. How about that?"
          "Yeah, 'cos people really care what I think of the ARIA's," Gina sarced.
          "Ms Coleman are you excited by the virile cabaret star who’s between your luscious thighs' nomination?"
          "Of course I am," Gina grinned, pressing her lips against his. "And have you heard how many The Whitlams are up for?"
          "All right, that's it, show’s over," Paul scowled, turning off the dictaphone and lobbing it across the room into the bin. "I open myself up to you in a working capacity…" he paused and groped her thigh. "Of sorts, and you do nothing but abuse and ridicule me."
          "Well you weren't exactly being Mr Co-operative!" Gina groused.
          "In any case the interview is over and you're going to be punished by several rounds of morning love making because we now have so much fucking time to waste until either of us goes to work," Paul declared gruffly, catching Gina by surprise and pinning her to the bed.
          "Well, if you insist tiger," Gina chided. Paul let out a sexy, low growl and they fell into a surprisingly heated kiss and enjoyed their sleepy warm bodies.

          It was late afternoon when Gina, sporting her best 'music awards' outfit which consisted of black pants and a sheer top and lot of jewellery arrived at the theatre where the awards were being held. With her press pass firmly in hand she made her way backstage and bustled through the hoards of people. She ended up getting lost and hid in the toilets for a while, only leaving when the sound of a well known female singer peeing was firmly lodged in her brain. Thankfully Gina left the bathroom and ran into Steve Abbot in his chequered suit.
          "Hi Gina," Steve smiled. "You look lost."
          "I am lost," Gina replied sheepishly.
          "Nevermind, I just spilled my drink on Julian Lennon," Steve giggled. "Come on, I'll show you where he's hiding."
          Happy to find someone she vaguely knew, Gina followed Steve to what was probably the least used, most unattractive dressing room in the entire building. He opened the door and Paul and Mikey were devouring a bottle of champagne with a couple of the GNW writers.
          "You finally made it!" Paul exclaimed, putting down his glass and dusting his velvet pants and black satin shirt and tie. "I thought you might have got lost."
          "I did," Gina shrugged. "I got to hear Natalie Imbruglia pee though if that's any consolation," she added and Paul looked at her amused.
          "I had to share the urinal with Doc Neeson and got stage fright," he mused. "You're looking gorgeous by the way."
          "Thanks, you're looking pretty good yourself," Gina smiled. "Can I touch the goods?"
          "Yes, god, it's only fabric," Paul chided and they quickly wrapped each other up in a hug which received a chorus of 'aww's from the writers. "Don't you people have somewhere to be?"
          "No," replied one of the writers, sipping his flute of champagne. "We've all the time in the world."
          "Come on, I think Paul needs a quickie to settle his nerves," jeered another as he led the others out.
          "I'm not nervous," Paul groused. "Well, maybe a little."
          "You'll be fine," Gina cooed, enjoying the feeling of the satin on her fingers.
          "We'll have to get them separated before he goes out there," Mikey mused to Steve.
          "Oh! Can I throw a bucket of water over them?" Steve perked, grinning.
          "You touch me and I'll shove an ARIA somewhere unpleasant," Paul sneered jokingly as he let go of Gina and grabbed his jacket from the hanger. He pulled it on as a make-up woman waltzed in the door, attacked him with a sponge, sprayed something on his hair and then waltzed out again.
          "That woman freaks me out," Paul mumbled. "She knows when I move, she just knows."
          "I call her the Night Stalker," Mikey agreed as the door opened again and a t-shirt clad young man with a clipboard declared.
          "One minute Mr McDermott."
          "Thanks mate," Paul smiled and then promptly gave him the finger once his back was turned. "Come on," he added, taking Gina's hand and leading her to a spot that was just off stage.
          "Good luck babe," she whispered and they shared a quick peck before he was grappled by several people. One thrust a mic into his hand, someone else used a sponge while another person babbled at him. Paul managed a quick wink at Gina before he bounded out on stage.

          "WELCOME TO THE 1998 ARIA AWARDS!" he bellowed to the roaring audience and then waited for the cheers to die down before starting his opening speech. "The 12th annual ARIA's coming to you tonight from the Neil Finn Memorial Theatre here in Sydney." The audience barely gave a peep but he continued valiantly. "In the room this evening is the best the Australian music industry has produced and a bunch of cheap imported copies." A few more whoops but nothing that showed an even tepid audience. "What are we here for? We're here to celebrate songs of love, songs of hope, songs that one day may define a generation of Australians. If the music industry is about integrity and what an important word that is 'if'…" The crowd finally roared with laughter and Paul feeling slightly more confident took a few cheeky bows. "…then tonight it honours its best and brightest as well as a few of those who just happened to shift a lot of product…"

          "How's he doing?" Mikey asked appearing at Gina's side.
          "So-so," Gina sighed, making a gesture with her hand. "They're not exactly a friendly audience."
          "That's because all music people are self obsessed," Mikey smiled. "He looks pretty and that's the main thing."
          "I couldn't agree more," Gina nodded. "Still, if this was a comedy gig it'd be tragic."

          "George Michael's new 'best of' album contains a new song called 'Miracle' which the singer says is a love song for the policeman who arrested him earlier in the year. It's the first time a love song has contained the phrase 'up against the wall and spread 'em.' Not to mention lyrics like: You sought to lock up, I sought romance, you had no back up, I had no pants, your holster in leather, you looked very cute, we both said together ‘stop or I'll shoot’."
          "I can't believe he just did that in front of Australia," Gina gasped. "Oh wait, yeah I can."
          Mikey wiped a tear of laughter from his eye. "That's fantastic. If only George Michael were here."
          "We've got Julian Lennon."
          "Yeah but what can you say to Jules?"
          "Sorry your Dad's brain was removed by a loony and he married a nutbar?" Gina asked deadpan.
          Mikey cracked up again and put an arm around Gina as they both sniggered and tuned back into what Paul was saying.

          "The Federal Government chose to show its commitment to Australian music by bringing it in cheaply from overseas," Paul declared and the audience booed loudly. "And that's the warm response I love," he mused. "Ladies and gentlemen welcome to that one special time of the year where the Australian music industry deservedly pats itself on the back. Casually runs it hand down its spine. Slowly slips its fingers between the elastic of its flimsy undergarments. Gives itself a jolly good fondling, has a cigarette and goes home."

          "Couldn't keep sex out of it could they," Gina giggled.
          "It's a beautiful metaphor," Mikey chided.

          "And with that in mind would you welcome to the 12th Annual ARIA awards REGURGITATOR!" Paul waited for the lights to go off him then dashed off stage breathless. He grabbed a bottle of water from someone he wasn't sure of and only after taking several gulps did it occur to him it could have been laced with anything. He saw Gina and Mikey trying to look inconspicuous and hurried over. They gave him a tiny round of applause. "I did good then?"
          "You were fabulous but the audience sucked," Gina nodded.
          "They laughed and booed at the important bits," Paul shrugged. "Narcissistic bastards that they are."
          "Apart from The Whitlams," Gina countered as a familiar petite blonde woman appeared.
          "Hi Paul," she smiled and wandered over to get ready to walk on stage.
          "Hi," Paul perked and looked back at Gina who was looking bewildered.
          "You know Kylie Minogue? You actually know Kylie Minogue?" Gina gasped.
          "Oh y'know, I've seen her around once or twice," Paul shrugged, nonplussed.
          "When this is over we're discussing your contacts list," Gina declared as the man with the clipboard reappeared.
          "I know!" Paul spat before he had a chance to open his mouth.

          Gina stood in awe as the show progressed, feeling herself both swell with pride that it was her man out there and cringe with the same reasoning. It all seemed to be going very fast and she got a surprise when Steve and Mikey started preparing for their stint under the lights.
          "What award are you doing?" Gina asked even though it was really rather obvious.
          "The comedy one of course," Mikey jeered. "Think monkey boy has a chance?"
          "God, we'll never hear the end of it if he wins," Steve groused.
          "Of course he'll win," Gina smirked. "Be pretty bad if they didn't let the host win one."
          "So he's not winning it for his talent then?" Steve mused as he was pounced upon by a make-up woman.
          "Yeah, women just love Paul for his talent," Gina chided.
          Mikey laughed as he heard Paul introduce them. "We're on!" he declared and grabbed Steve.
          Gina crossed her fingers and felt the nerves start to creep into her system. Why on earth was she nervous and why did she suddenly think all his competition were unworthy? Her ears pricked up as Steve fumbled with the envelope.
          "Oh no!" he gasped.
          "The winner is Paul McDermott the Good News Week Tapes Volume One," Mikey piped up.
          "YES!" Gina cheered and received a few strange looks from the other people backstage.

          Paul sauntered out onto the stage and was congratulated by his friends who he knew were going to hassle him later. He went to take his ARIA from Mikey who teasingly kept pulling at away every time he went to grab it. Eventually he got it and made up a speech.
          "I'd just like to say there were some very fine competitors in the comedy section but there can only be one winner," he mused. "So stuff yas all!" Paul rattled on not really listening to himself and not really having any idea who to thank and tried to stick with being funny by ending with. "Thankyou very much, this feels heavy." He hurried back offstage to where Gina was grinning and looked at her bewildered.
          "I won," he mused.
          "I know, you're one of them now," Gina perked and gave him a quick congratulatory hug and kiss.
          "Look after my ARIA," he ordered, trying to ignore the thought that he'd only got it because he was host and everyone would say so and thrust the award into Gina's hands.
          "I'll guard it with my life," Gina promised as he turned and hurried back on stage. She looked at the ugly, pointy award and was starting to feel like the whole situation was surreal.
          "Is that Paul's award?" a voice piped up and Gina looked up to see her least favourite politician, Natasha Stott Despoja. She was a pretty, petite blonde who was on GNW all the time and was going to give out a couple of awards with Paul.
          "Well it's not mine," Gina groused.
          "Can I have a look? I've never seen an ARIA before," Natasha smiled. Gina gripped the ARIA tighter.
          "No, I promised him I wouldn't let it go," Gina scorned.
          "I'm sure he wouldn’t…"
          "NO!" Gina spat, wondering if it'd be a bad idea to attack one the country's leading politicians backstage at the ARIA's with the broken end of a champagne bottle.
          "Hey Natasha," Mikey perked, reappearing as Gina and Natasha stood glaring at each other. "Is that monkey boy's award? Can I look?"
          "Sure," Gina smiled handing Mikey the ARIA. Natasha let out a huff and marched off and Gina gave her the finger, which both Mikey and Steve noticed and gave each other an amused look.