The singer, 30, on selling pies, losing count of his tattoos and why he’s not been out clubbing in years.

Sat 19 Nov 2022 09.00 EST

I’m the oldest sibling, so there’s always been an element of responsibility. It was a big family, we’d have friends over, we were always on top of each other. It was dead loud in our house.

I worked at Doncaster Rovers as the guy you bought the pies off. We had a little scheme. If the pie fell on the floor, even foil side up, it couldn’t be sold. I didn’t have a lot of money at the time, so a lot went overboard, because the pies were banging.

I was the singer in my school band – the Rogue – for two years. We covered Green Day, blink-182, Oasis. I loved performing – even in front of 100 people from my year group – but they formed another band behind my back because the guitarist wanted to be the singer. I’ve had the last laugh.

What does Simon Cowell smell like? The same as me – cigarettes.

It’s so important, mentally, to have breaks from my abnormality, even if that means putting my business head on for 10 minutes.

I’m not the kind of guy who puts my awards up all over his house, but I do give them the credit they deserve. They’re pretty much centre stage in a cabinet.

Who is more likely to get back together: Oasis or One Direction? I’d love to see Oasis, but I’m going to say us fellas.

The weirdest thing I’ve had to sign? A fan’s boobs.

I’ve no idea how many tattoos I’ve got, 30 or more. Two or three are good, the rest are pretty mad. I’ve got them on my arms, feet and one I’m not proud of – a penguin – on my arse. It’s the least sexy thing in world.

My worst fear used to be getting older, but I’m in my 30s now, so I suppose I’m here. Will I still be doing this when I’m 50? I hope so.

I have an incredible skill to sleep on any flight. Whatever time, however long, it doesn’t matter, I will sleep 90%. I think my body is just starved of sleep. I do have to kind of constantly be reminded of what time zone we’re in, where we are. Your head’s a little pickled – you’re detached from the real world. It’s cool to a degree.

I’ve not been on a night out in Doncaster for years. It’s a combination of being too busy and the fact there’s always a chancer who wants to give you a slap. I don’t want to get my head kicked in.

I’m low-maintenance. I don’t have any major diva requests. As long as I’ve got coffee and cigarettes, I’m sound.

I live a pretty happy life. I’m lucky like that. I don’t cry often, but I’m not afraid to.

The worst thing about fame is the judgment, but I get it. I used to be a judgmental little fucker as well.