The Life of Rylan by Rylan Clark-Neal

Author:Rylan Clark-Neal [Clark-Neal, Rylan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781780895741
Publisher: Random House
Published: 2016-06-29T21:00:00+00:00

‘I was the country’s most

hated person . . .’

Rylan Ross Clark 2012

11

MONDAY MORNING BROKE and I most certainly felt broken. As I woke up I was wishing away the experience, hoping it was a nightmare that just felt like it could have been real. But it was real. It was 7.30 a.m., James was still asleep in the other bed, I was wide awake. There was a knock on the door. As I opened the door I saw that it was Alanda and Sarah, two of the researchers who had been looking after us all. I’d gotten on so well with the two of them – even in the worst crisis they were brilliant. I had a feeling that I was going to need them. We walked to another room in the Corinthia. It was our green room, which had been kitted out for us to relax in. Then they showed me the papers. I was literally front page of most of the tabloids. ‘FIX FACTOR’, ‘NATIONAL JOKE’, etc. I was horrified. I wanted to jump out of the window; at that moment it definitely felt like the easier option. I was utterly distraught.

I knew that I had to eventually check my Twitter and ‘face the music’, as Peter Dickson would say. When I say the word ‘barrage’, I don’t mean it lightly. I was the country’s most hated person just because of what had happened the previous night on a singing competition, and, with all due respect, this was at around the same time as the Jimmy fucking Savile case, so you can imagine how I felt. Insults, piss-takes and – more worrying – death threats. Tweets along the lines of ‘I know you’re living at the Corinthia hotel. I’m going to kill you when you walk out in the morning . . .’ And so on. It was terrifying. After an hour or so, most of the other contestants had woken up and were informed what was going on. I felt lucky they were all on hand to reassure and look after me. I most certainly needed it.

Mondays were vocal coaching, where we would start working on our new songs for the Saturday and we would head over to our rehearsal studios in Battersea. I didn’t want to go. I just wanted to go home and forget that I’d even done the show. I couldn’t bring myself to answer calls from my friends or family because it would probably tip me over the edge because I knew I’d caused them all this worry. I finally got dressed and made my way down to reception. As I got into the lift with Alanda and Sarah, one of the security boys jumped in. I didn’t think anything of it. It wasn’t until he told me to get directly in the car and not to stop and talk to anyone or have pictures with people that I realised he was there to make sure no one followed through with their threats. Is this actually happening to me? All I’ve done is go on a singing show, for fuck’s sake.

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