A little snippet:
Considering Fran had been Westlife's minder for a short while and still claimed to be good friends with them, he didn't have a lot of good to say about Kian. After the row was over, he spent a good half-hour slagging him off to me: 'Of course, he couldn't bleeping sing anyway! The rest of the band would cover him on stage. He was always out of tune. I'd stand in the wings with the sound guys wincing every time he opened his mouth. Even the rest of the band are embarrassed by his singing. On the records, his voice is always re-mastered!' Not particularly interested, I didn't bother giving a reply, but Fran continued to slate him. 'He's an arrogant little prick as well. No one likes him. He used to slag you off when he was seeing you. He told the whole tour bus that you licked his bumhole. It makes me feel bleeping sick.'
Outraged by his comments, I bit my tongue and fumed silently. I knew that Kian had bragged to the other boys in the band and to his minder Paul that I had been dirty in bed. Paul told me on a drunken night out that Kian hadn't stopped talking about me. It didn't bother me that much. I tell the girls everything about a guy's performance, so I saw it as quite normal. Fran had to turn it all round though and try to make me feel cheap, he had a way of doing that like nobody else.