Before his relationship with Melissa had finally leaked in a three-page National Enquirer story called ‘Beauty and the Beat’, the tabloid press had only a passing interest in him. Yes, he was a platinum-selling artist, but he was a serious musician, not a red-carpet regular. Interesting to music geeks and teenage girls, but not the sort of star who could shift millions of newspapers. Melissa was a bigger celebrity, of course, but she was not in the same league as Catherine, Julia or Jennifer. Together, however, Alex and Melissa created a strange alchemy that had sent the paparazzi crazy and turned their world upside down. Wherever they went, photographers were there. Leaving the house, at the airport, visiting a restaurant; they were mobbed going in and coming out and the paps would crowd around the windows trying to take pictures of them – shock! – eating noodles or – hold the front-page! – popping to the loo. Not a week went by without front-page splashes about their relationship – in love, splitting up, sometimes both in the same paper – or speculation about an imminent elopement or secret love-child.Alex was still struggling to make the adjustment, both to his new relationship and to his new mega-stardom.
