He wanders into the kitchen, wearing my pyjama pants, hair mussed and sticking out in every direction. Absolutely beautiful. That's right, he cut his hair. Short, so much shorter than I ever would've expected, and now he really looks like a star. He is a star. He catches me sometimes, just staring at him, trying to convince myself this is all real. He's really mine.

We're at his place today. A sleek, chic, expensive apartment overlooking Brisbane river. I have a nicely appointed house in Logan with a confidential address. What the press don't know is that one of these residences always stands empty.

Darren leans in to give me a morning kiss. He means for it to be a light peck, but I clasp the back of his head and hold him to it, turning it into a proper kiss, his tongue stroking mine. When I release him his breathing is harsh and a smile curls his lips.

He's about to say something when the phone rings. He rolls his eyes and bounces over to answer. Yes, bounces. He can get very hyperactive and I find it adorable.

I watch him as he chatters on the phone, marvelling at how he's changed. Not in any elemental way, he's still Darren, he just has more confidence now, in himself, his talent, his worth.

He doesn't need me anymore and it scares me sometimes. I have little Daniel-scaring sessions where I think about how easily he could shatter my entire existence if he wanted to. I've never needed anyone before. People have always been disposable to me. But the thought of my life without Darren in it gives me a cold sweat.

When we released our first single, the record companies sat up and took notice. He was inundated with a slew of solo offers, as I knew he would be. He could've taken any one of them and left me behind -- he still could. But he hasn't.

I know it's stupid to think about things like this. I'm the happiest I've been in my life and yet I worry myself to death thinking that one day he'll wake up and realise everything he's passing up being with me, and leave.

But then sometimes, when I'm holding him in the middle of the night, nursing him through a nightmare, or when we fight and I say something really, really stupid and his face crumbles making me sorry, I think maybe, just maybe, he needs me as much as I need him.

The clang of the phone hanging up startles me out of my latest Daniel-scaring session. Darren wanders over, a smug smile on his face.

"That was Lynne," he says, taking my hand and pulling me to my feet. He wraps his arms around my waist and his face drifts close to mine as he speaks. "'The Words' just went platinum." His voice is laced with triumph.

'The Words' is our first album, recently released. I don't fight the smile that plants itself across my face, tightening my arms around him and kissing him senseless. Playful kisses start to become heated ones //Will I never tire of his taste?// but he breaks it off first.  My insecurities surge to the fore briefly, but they are extinguished when I see the flush of heat on his face, hear his strained breathing.

"Don't get me started. Lynne'll kill us if we turn up to this interview with rocks on our pants." He warns. 

Yes, I do interviews now, live shows and photo shoots too. I'm a fully functioning pop star. Somehow it just became so much easier to do all those things that used to make me nauseous, as long as I have Darren beside me.

"OK, point taken." I laugh, claiming his lips again in a brief kiss.

"Have I told you yet today that I love you?" He asks playfully. I shake my head and try to look innocent. "Well, I do." He says, kissing me again.

I leave my Daniel-scaring session behind without a thought.