Mark wasn't feeling great. The flight had been delayed, turbulent and had dragged on longer than any other flight he had ever been on. He supposed his irritable mood was also partly down to the fear of having to face Gary after what had happened. He could just imagine the look of distain on Gary's face when he marched through the door of Robbie's house. Why did Gary Barlow have to be so bloody annoying sometimes? Why was he so self-absorbed? Did he not care about Mark's feelings at all? It felt that way – often.

Stepping off at LAX, Mark hailed a taxi and gave the driver the address. It was really damn nice here, not being recognised.

Robbie's house looked as grand as usual. It was all white walls with vines climbing up the sides, pots of brightly coloured flowers scattered around the drive, high palm trees and a selection of flashy looking cars parked within the gates. Mark guessed those cars belonged to the cooks, cleaners and other highly-paid staff.

Mark wandered up to the door and rang the bell twice, sharply. He heard the musical tinkling of the bell echo within the large, spacious house. Mere seconds later, Robbie himself answered the door. He was wearing a white loose shirt and trousers, teamed with odd-looking sunglasses. An unlit cigarette was balancing between his fingers.

"Ah! Look who it is. Come on in mate. How was the flight?"

"Fucking 'orrible Rob."

Robbie half-laughed, half-smirked. "Gaz is in the garden right now. Go through and surprise him."

This was what Mark was dreading. What was he expecting? He didn't even know anymore. He was jet-lagged and generally annoyed. He couldn't even gauge how he himself was going to react upon seeing his friend.

And sure enough, there was Gary Barlow relaxing in a reclining chair outside, drinking from a bottle of vitamin water then settling back and closing his eyes to rest in the LA sunshine. He looked unnaturally handsome with stubble and a slight tan.

Mark shuffled forwards slowly then glanced behind him to see if Rob was following. He wasn't. He was still inside. Thank god.

"Mark?"

Mark whipped back round. Gary was staring at him, eyes narrowed - clearly totally confused.

"Hi Gaz. Oh. Did I forget to tell you I was coming 'ere? Funny that, in't it? How forgetful we both are."

"Oh that's real amusing that is…" But Gary wasn't smiling. He stood up from his chair and paced towards Mark. "You couldn't just leave me alone could you?"

"What you on about Gaz!" Mark whispered angrily. "Why are you being like this? Why can't you accept things? It's driving me mad y'know. Absolutely mad."

"I'm here to work. I'm here for Rob's album and then I'm leaving. I don't need to hear any of this."

Mark raised his eyebrows then exhaled heavily in exasperation. "Well believe it or not, I'm here for Rob too. I'm here to listen to his music because he's a fucking top bloke and my best mate. And what are you Gary? You're nothing but a liar. From now on… I just can't be asked."

"Here lads! Look who I've found!"

Both Gary and Mark turned around to see Robbie walking down the steps towards them, a fluffy white dog cradled in his arms. "This is Poupette. She's a real daddy's girl. Aren't you eh?" He tickled the dog's ears and she let her little pink tongue loll out.

Mark giggled and stroked her fur. "She's a real cutie Rob. Just like her daddy!"

Robbie put one arm firmly round Mark's shoulders and kissed the top of his head. "Oh Markie, I'm so glad you're here. You're like my best mate and my very own ego masseuse, all rolled into one."

Mark deliberately wrapped both his arms around Rob, a massive grin on his face as he pointedly looked right into Gary's eyes.

Gary shook his head gently, staring back at Mark with a look of disgust before returning indoors. Mark stayed in Rob's arms for a little while longer.

Robbie has always been genuine. Always constant. Even when he was on drugs he cared for me more than Gary ever did. Gary is a workaholic, a musical genius and incredibly organised… but he's an emotional let-down. A conservative man who is embarrassed by himself if he ever sets a foot out of line. Yes, that's Gary Barlow all over.

Robbie let go of Mark and ruffled his hair.

"So buddy, would you like a drink, something to eat? Oh yeah, how did Gaz react when you walked out here?"

Mark smiled and scrunched up his nose as the sun's glare got brighter. "I'll have a salad or something. Then I'd really like a bloody good sleep before I even contemplate listening to your music. I'm not a good critic when I'm this exhausted y'see."

Yes, he'd ignored Robbie's last question. But that was fine. Robbie didn't even notice... or at least he'd pretended not to. For this, Mark was very, very thankful.