By the time Paul closed the awards everyone had endured more excitement, enthusiasm and alcohol than was normally possible. Gina especially was feeling slightly overwhelmed at the extremity of it all. From Paul's win and the rather amusing moment where he had to read out the best country artist winner. To The Whitlams three gongs, their last being award by their namesake Gough Whitlam creating a rather emotional moment for everyone and Julian Lennon handing out a couple of the awards which Gina had decided was up there in exciting moments because, well because he was Julian Lennon. As The Whitlams went from rocking out Skyhooks 'Women in Uniform' to the wonderful 'No Aphrodisiac' it seemed quite a shame that it was all over.
Paul bounded off stage, happily gave his microphone back to the annoying guy with the clipboard and quickly found Gina looking rather forlorn.
"You didn't break it did you?" Paul asked, half distracted by someone gushing at the wonderful job he'd done.
"Break what?" Gina asked, pondering if he'd been stealing drinks when she hadn't been looking.
"My ARIA," Paul mused.
"What? No, it's quite safe," Gina replied holding it up to prove the point even though it was really quite visible.
"Then why the long face?"
"My face is long?"
"Well, you haven't turned into a member of the Royal Family or a horse," Paul paused. "Is there a difference? I mean Princess Anne…"
"I'm disappointed it’s over," Gina stated quickly to stop him rambling.
"Trust me, by the time you get to the party you'll be wishing it was," Paul groused.
"The after party is bad?" Gina asked, slightly taken aback as she was having a fairly good time minus Natasha and hearing Natalie Imbruglia pee.
"It's hard to be nice and sociable without being rude," Paul shrugged. "We can tally how many people inform me I'm not funny or ask who I am."
"I'm sure it'll be fine," Gina soothed, reaching out to gently squeeze his arm. "You could charm anyone."
"You think?" Paul pouted in pretend thought. "What about a hardcore, death dealing biker with a big beard and a throbbing Harley?"
"I had a throbbing Harley once," Gina mused and Paul's expression fell further. "He was a radio DJ," she added gingerly. "Should we go?"
"Yes," Paul said slowly, not sure if he was so happy that she was so lecherous in mentioning 'Throbbing Harley.' "I've just got to change outta this," he added, still distracted by his thoughts and motioning to his suit.
It was about 45 minutes later that they arrived at the ARIA's after party, Paul had one hand clamped around his award the other around Gina's waist. He hated the after party with a passion and only went because it was expected of him and the booze was free. Paul knew it was hard to stop himself insulting people when they became drunk and obnoxious and he feared letting Gina out of his sight as he knew it wouldn't take her long to get herself into an argument.
The hotel where the party was being held was bustling with half sloshed music and media notoriety and Gina wrapped her arms around one of Paul's so she didn't lose him. This seemed to be working until a voice yelled out, "Oh my god, Gina, over here, GINA!" and she looked to see Libby Knowles, a rather flamboyant narcissist she'd studied journalism with, rushing toward her.
"Friend of yours?" Paul asked, not wanting to talk to anyone he couldn't be sure he wouldn't yell at sometime when he was progressively more intoxicated.
"We studied together," Gina announced, her mouth close to his ear. "I slapped her with my notepad once."
"Why?" Paul asked, trying to ignore the fact he was enjoying her warm breath on his ear more than he should be in a public place.
"She stole my boyfriend," Gina replied, teasingly nipping his earlobe. Paul gave her a cheeky sideways glance.
"While I could handle spending the night in the toilets watching popstars snort cocaine and trying to ignore the tent in my pants, I'd rather not," he mused, dropping a kiss on her cheek. "So I'm going to find my friends and you can get re-aquatinted with what's-her-face."
"Oh that'll be exciting," Gina breathed. Paul gave her bottom an affectionate squeeze, grinned and headed into the crowd. "I hope he doesn't lose his ARIA," she muttered, waiting for the impending headache that was Libby.
Libby Knowles really had stolen Gina's boyfriend at the time, not only that but she had irritated her beyond belief with gushings about make-up, fashion and the best way to pluck one's eyebrows. Libby seemed to think she and Gina were the best of friends during those years of study, something Gina was always bewildered about as Libby didn't seem to have the brain cells to be a journalist nor did Gina ever show any hint of ever liking her. The final straw had come when Libby unceremoniously blurted out during their final exams that she had been boffing Gina's then boyfriend, a rather useless engineering student called Josh. It turned out to be a good thing, Gina got to slap Libby, dumped Josh, blitzed her exams and went on to have Danny to look at everyday. What had become of Libby she was about to find out.
"Oh my god, look at you," Libby gushed. "You've lost so much weight."
Actually Gina had been replacing food with sex and then getting hungry and combining both but she was still the same size she'd been since she was 21. "And you've bleached your hair to an almost unnatural state."
"Actually it's this brand new treatment at my hairdressers," Libby beamed. "So what are you doing here? I'm working for New Weekly now, they sent me along to cover it."
"I'm working for The Herald," Gina replied.
"Yeah, stuffy broadsheets were always more you weren't they," Libby perked. "You're not really a glamour girl."
"No, not really," Gina laughed coldly. "But I'm actually here supporting my boyfriend."
"Oh? You're dating another journalist?" Libby mused, the idea seeming quaint in her mind. "I'm seeing one of the boys from Regurgitator."
"That's great," Gina lied.
"Did you see them win?" Libby continued. "I feel so proud!" Gina nodded. "So, who are you dating?" she added looking around.
"Me?" Gina smiled sweetly. "Oh you know, no one too special, just the host."
"Host of what?" Libby asked confused.
"The ARIA's."
"But that Paul McDermott guy hosted and you can't seriously be…"
"Fucking him? Oh yes, quite frequently actually," Gina declared, reveling in the look on Libby's face. "He won an award, did you see him win?" she added mockingly.
"Quick, move aside, make room for his ego!" Mikey declared as Paul strolled over flaunting his ARIA. He placed it on the table and snatched up a champagne flute from a passing waiter but what he really craved was beer or even tequila.
"Be gentle with my award," he chided as a couple of the writers took to looking at it.
"Where's the lovely Gina?" Steve asked as he took the initiative to hunt down some beer.
"Chatting to an old friend or enemy or something," Paul shrugged, looking nonplussed as a familiar figure walked past. "Hey Tash," he called.
Natasha Stott Despoja looked at him with disdain. "Your girlfriend is psychotic."
"What?" Paul said, bewildered at the unexpected answer.
"She was a total bitch to me earlier," Natasha groused. "I don't know what I've done."
"Well don't look at me," Paul pouted. "She's her own women."
"Ask your friends, they were there," Natasha continued, looking at Mikey.
"She was being over protective of the ARIA," Mikey shrugged. "And gave Natasha the one finger salute."
Paul sniggered into his champagne flute. "I'll have words with her," he said with mock genuineness.
"Good," Natasha huffed and stalked off into the throngs of people. Paul started to giggle and buried his face in his free hand.
"Any idea why she dislikes Tash?" Mikey asked.
"I have a vague idea," was all Paul would elaborate. "I should go find her, guard the ARIA," he declared and abandoned his half full champagne flute.
"I see you're still full of it Coleman," Libby sighed. "No offence darls but you're not exactly celebrity girlfriend material really are you?"
"Neither are you but ba-dang you seem to be bedding one," Gina countered quickly.
"But we hardly compare," Libby laughed. "I mean, you're kinda, well, a bit like grey pants whereas I'm more a spangly, designer top."
Gina winced at Libby's analogy, obvious she'd had several friends and a script writer handy to create it. The more Gina looked a Libby's smug face the more she wanted to (a) punch it and (b) try and hold onto her self confidence. But it was slowly trickling away and the desire to run into the ladies, lock herself in a cubicle and sob was seeming like a viable option.
"You always were a dreamer Coleman," Libby mused and pretentiously squeezed her arm. Gina was quite ready for the ground to swallow her up when she felt a hand on her waist, a comforting arm encircling her.
"Everyone's asking for ya," Paul perked, looking at Gina's friend/enemy and deciding she looked like she was trying so hard to fit in it was beyond sad. In fact he was quite glad he'd come to find Gina as he could tell even from a distance that she was unhappy.
"Hi," Libby smiled broadly, eying off Paul. "You do know 'Gina the Dreamer' then?"
Paul felt Gina's fingers entwine with his that were on her waist, she squeezed his hand tentatively. "I don't think it's any business of yours."
Libby looked slightly triumphant. "She thinks you two are dating," she laughed.
Paul laughed spitefully. "Dating, well if that's what pleasuring each other 'till all hours is then sure, we're dating."
Gina felt her heart leap and watched Libby's face twist in annoyance. "Oh my, you, you really are…"
"Libby doesn't think I'm celebrity girlfriend material," Gina mused, leaning gently into Paul's side. "I'm like grey pants."
"I like grey pants," Paul shrugged and dipped his head to kiss Gina's earlobe. "Go on, I've stunned her, finish her off," he whispered.
Gina felt a rush of adrenaline and confidence and the overwhelming desire to take Paul into a toilet cubicle and thank him in a kneeling position. "Well Knowles, while it's been just a blast catching up with you I really have to go and hang with my celebrity friends, ARIA winning lover and countless other individuals not in your league. Better run along to your glossy magazine friends before it strikes midnight, your mascara runs and your boyfriend turns into a rat." She smiled smugly and walked off into the crowds arm and arm with Paul.
They were halfway back to Mikey and the others when Gina pulled Paul aside and, not caring who was watching, kissed him deeply on the lips.
"You are the most wonderful man ever," she purred.
"I'd hold that thought," Paul breathed, leading her even further out of the crowds. "Because I'm going to tell you off."
"For being mean to Libby?" Gina pouted, confused.
"No, she fucking deserved it," Paul groused. "I want to know why you were horrible to Natasha earlier."
"Natasha?" Gina asked, feebly trying to pretend she had conveniently forgotten who Natasha was. Paul narrowed his eyes and cocked his head to the side. "I don't like her."
"Why? She's very nice," Paul countered, leaning his back against the wall in an attempt to be angry and not stroke any part of Gina's exposed skin that he so desperately wanted to.
"I don't know," Gina shrugged, toying with her fingers.
Paul thought for a moment. "You're not jealous of her are you?"
"No," Gina snorted. "Although I don't like you flirting with her."
"You are jealous!"
"You're a flirt!"
"I can't help being a flirt," Paul exclaimed. "I don't fancy her though, I could never fuck a politician."
"Well I can't help being jealous," Gina winced. "Besides you should be flattered."
"No, I'm not," Paul sighed. "Well ok, it's kinda cool but Tash is my friend ok? So be nice to her."
"I'm a journalist, she's a politician, it's unnatural," Gina huffed.
"You’re a journalist and I'm a celebrity and that's unnatural but you love me," Paul countered.
Gina's let out another huff, her nostrils flaring but she wasn't angry just pissed Paul was right as usual. "And if I love you I should accept your friends right?"
"Well, show them some respect at least," Paul smiled. "So, no more jealousy yeah?"
Gina nodded, slightly reluctant, and then got totally distracted. "Oh my god it's Tim," she gasped. "Tim from The Whitlams!"
Paul looked just feet in front of them where Tim Freedman, lead singer of The Whitlams was talking animatedly to one of his friends, a champagne flute in one hand two of his ARIA's in the other. "You wanna meet him?"
"What? No, I mean yes, I mean I don’t know," Gina flustered. "It's Tim."
Paul felt it odd that after their recent conversation that he was slightly miffed that she was a million times more excited about seeing Tim than she was when she first met him. He shrugged it off as the lack of drinking he'd undertaken and grabbed Gina's hand.
"What are you doing?" she gasped as he pulled her away from the wall.
"Making your night," Paul grinned as he stopped next to Tim who had finished his champagne and was eagerly looking around for another one.
"Paul!" Tim beamed, the adrenaline, happiness and alcohol making him want to just hug and kiss everyone in the room. "You did a great job, fantastic, I in fact worship the skill in which you handled the less than excitable crowd."
"Thanks mate," Paul smiled. "Speaking of worship," he added and pulled a rather speechless Gina forward. "This is Gina, she's from The Herald and is going to interview you."
"Hi Gina," Tim perked and enthusiastically shook her hand.
Gina swallowed her nerves and let the journalist kick in. "Hi Tim, congratulations on the ARIA's, I for one think you should have won more."
"Even best female artist?" Tim asked, finally securing himself anther drink.
"You'd look lovely in a frock," Gina smiled and Tim laughed, putting her further at ease.
"I'll leave you to it," Paul perked and headed off back to Mikey and Steve who were doing strange things with some coasters, two empty glasses and the lead singer of The Superjesus.
"I apologise if I happened to ignore you before," Tim enthused. "Bright idea getting Paul to get my attention though."
"Actually it was more a 'I'm a mildly obsessed Whitlams fan and he thought he'd sort me out' kinda thing," Gina mused, fishing for her notepad in her bag.
"You mean there's a journalist in the room who actually knows who we are?" Tim gasped and Gina nodded enthusiastically. "Man, my night couldn't get any better!"
"You want another beer?" Mikey asked, looking at Paul who'd been looking at Gina and Tim talking for the last half hour. "No? How about a lap dance from Steve in a studded g-string?"
"Whatever," Paul replied, not even bothering to look at Mikey.
"Steve?" Mikey asked, looking across the table.
"I don't have a studded g-string," Steve said deadpan and then lobbed a coaster at Paul. It struck his hand and he swore loudly.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Paul groused, rubbing the red mark on his hand.
"Enjoying your scintillating company," Mikey jeered.
"They've been talking for ages," Paul groused, ignoring him. "And look at that body language." Tim had stooped to be closer to her as he was so tall and the noise was distracting.
"He thanked his long suffering girlfriend in his second acceptance speech," Steve countered.
"Look at her, flirting with him in front of everyone," Paul huffed. "It's disgusting."
"Oh yeah, and you're a choir boy," Mikey teased, sipping a fresh beer.
"Hey, I'm feeling jaded at the moment, a bit of sympathy wouldn't go astray," Paul spat and went to sake a sip of his beer only to find the glass was empty and someone had stubbed a cigarette out in it.
"You forcibly introduced them," Mikey gasped, exasperated by Paul's rather overt jealousy.
Paul looked at him and was lost for a comeback. "Get stuffed!"
It was a further ten minutes before Gina swanned over looking flushed, cheery and bubbling so happily it was unlike her.
"Finally she makes it," Mikey teased as Gina stuffed her notepad and pen back into her bag.
"Rather late than never," Gina quipped and looked at Paul who was brooding over an empty beer glass. She looked back at Mikey who mouthed 'he's sulking' and rolled his eyes. "You miss me?" she asked, her fingers going to ruffle Paul's hair but he shot to his feet.
"I think it's time we left," he declared, annoyance etched across his face.
"Oh, but I haven't even had a celebratory drink with you yet," Gina pouted.
"You don't drink," Paul spat. "Warm coke hardly constitutes as a celebratory drink."
Gina stood gobsmacked a moment, not an hour ago Paul had been adorably sweet and now he was in a mood dark enough to require a torch. "Ok, when did things turn ugly?" she asked, looking from Paul to Mikey who took a sudden interest in the fabric of the chair he was in, and Steve who pondered the bottom of his glass.
"Fine, I'll go home and you stay and have a celebratory drink with…" Paul's voice trailed and he shot a look at Tim who was now using two ARIA's in a Madonna impression. "I'll see you at work," he muttered to his friends, snatched up his ARIA and decided to leave before he humiliated himself making anymore of a scene.
"What did I do?" Gina gasped. "Michael tell me?"
"I think he convinced himself you were about to have Tim's children," Mikey soothed.
"What?"
"The green eyed monster snuck up and bit him on the arse."
"He's jealous!" Gina said wide eyed. "I'll kill him, hypocritical bastard!"
Gina stormed out through the slowly thinning crowds which she was glad to escape for the relative sanctity of lobby. She glanced around but couldn't see Paul and made her way into the street where she finally found him heading for a taxi. She would have liked to have soaked up some of the mild fresh air that was filling her lungs but instead hurried to catch up with him.
"Paul!" she called and he paused in his opening of the taxi's door. "I can't believe you're behaving like this."
"Me!" he spat and clambered into the back of the taxi. "You're the one that was whoring yourself to Tim Freedman."
"Whoring myself!" Gina squealed. "That was the best interview I've ever done."
"Yeah, I'll bet," Paul sarced.
"Do you guys want to go somewhere or just argue in the back?" the driver asked bluntly. Both Gina and Paul announced their respective addresses at the same time and the driver rolled his eyes. Gina slapped a hand over Paul's mouth and gave the driver her address before Paul slavered on her hand and she yelped and wiped it on his pants.
"You're a fucking hypocrite you know that," she huffed, making sure his saliva was gone completely. "You scorned me for being jealous and then you go into a strop because I happened to bond with someone you set me up to interview."
"Bond," Paul laughed. "You might as well have dropped to your knees there and then."
"This from a man who was checking out Natasha Stott Despoja's tits on stage."
"Oh that's very mature of you Genie," Paul snapped, crossed his arms and focussed his attention out of the window. Gina, who found Paul's actions totally deplorable and insanely immature, did the same. Neither speaking until they arrived at Gina's apartment where they both chucked money at the driver and slammed the doors.
"I want you to know you've ruined my night," Gina spat as she fumbled for her keys.
"Good, because you ruined mine," Paul spat back, looking accusingly at the light in the window of the next apartment.
"I can’t see how what I did was any different than what you did?" Gina continued, finally locating her keys and opening the door. "Except I was interviewing Tim and you were just being a slut."
"A slut," Paul huffed. "And I suppose when Tim inadvertently took a good hard look down your top it was part of the interview."
"Well I'm just glad I could give him something nice to look at," Gina sneered, throwing her bag onto the couch and storming toward her room. Actually, she'd not noticed and was secretly quite pleased.
"Oh well next time I'll just give Tash a look at my balls then shall I!" Paul yelled after her and then decided it was more cathartic to yell in her presence.
"Yeah Paul, I'm sure she really wants to see your testicles," Gina snapped, throwing her shoes across the room.
"Unlike you who want the ultra-close up of Tim's thrice award winning knob!" Paul snapped back, lobbing his own shoes across the room.
"You're so fucking immature," Gina yelled. "I HATE YOU!"
"I HATE YOU TOO!" Paul screamed back.
There was a brief moment of silence where they stood breathless before both leapt on each other sharing a fervent, heated kiss. One of Gina's hands grasped his shoulder while the other grabbed for his belt. Paul, panting heavily, needed no encouragement to rampantly grope her breasts and grapple with the clasp of her bra.
It was all over relatively quickly thanks to the adrenaline, lust and alcohol in their respective systems. Paul collapsed against Gina trying to fill his lungs with air while she tried to get her head out of the clouds and regain the ability to talk.
"We have to argue more often," Paul manage to breathe, nibbling her collarbone. "That's the best fuck I've ever had."
He'd never been so blunt before and it shocked Gina a moment before she remembered life wasn't a sappy romance novel and people fucked rather than 'made love' in reality. "I whole heartedly agree," she sighed as Paul rolled off her onto the bed. "And I don't really hate you," she added, stroking his flushed cheek.
"Sorry I got so worked up," Paul swallowed and pulled off his pants which were still at his ankles and dropped them on the floor. "I don't know what came over me," he added, crawling under the covers.
"It's kinda endearing really," Gina mused, removing the rest of her clothes and slipping beneath the covers with Paul. She snuggled up to him, their legs entwined, one hand on his chest that he covered with his own, head resting in the crook of his neck.
"Genie," Paul announced after a few moments of silence. "Why do you think I won my ARIA?" he asked, looking at the shiny award on the beside table.
"Because you're fabulously talented," Gina cooed, sleepily kissing his neck.
"You don't think they just gave it to me because I was hosting?"
"The speed of doubt, " Gina mused, giggling quietly about her use of one of Steve's sayings. "It's a token of your ability from the industry babe, there's no need to doubt yourself."
Paul gave his award one last look, switched off the light and dropped a kiss on the top of Gina's head. "What a fantastic night," Paul sighed. "Awards, booze and unbelievable sex."
"And the fight to end all fights," Gina chipped in.
"A sign of why we're perfect for each other," Paul agreed. "Any normal woman would have been in tears or therapy by now." Gina tilted her head up and they managed to find each other's lips in the dark. "You got revenge on that Libby chick too."
"And to top it all I got to meet Tim Freedman," Gina perked and they fell silent again. Until Paul couldn't hold it in any longer.
"So what did you and Tim talk about for all that time?"
"Paul!" Gina groaned although amused and half heartedly punched him. Paul laughed and wrapped his arms tightly around her.
Other than the fact they'd had one almighty blue it was a very good night in the life of Paul McDermott and he was very happy to just lie there in their post coital afterglow and reminisce about everything. From savouring the feeling of that cold metal of the ARIA in his hand to the soft skin of the woman he was very much in love with that was gently pressing against his own.