Authors: Portia MacIntosh

Starstruck (23 page)

The
woman stands up straight and I’ll admit her cleaning outfit doesn’t do much to
flatter her figure. Her hair is huge. Big thick brown curls cover her head
creating a Leo Sayer style ball and then she turns around. Eddie, unable to
contain himself, erupts with laughter and both the cleaner and Mick stare at
him. I dig Eddie in the ribs with my elbow and his laughter blends seamlessly
into wails of pain.

‘Bloody
leg, it’s giving me hell today. Just came out to check up the set up, keep
doing what you’re doing.’ Eddie looks over at the cleaner and salutes her. ‘You’re
doing a great job ma’am.‘

The
cleaner gives him an unsure look but carries on with her cleaning. Eddie looks
over at Mick and pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek, he’s unable
to do the accompanying hand gesture because of his crutches but Mick knows
exactly what he’s getting at and gives him the one-finger salute in return.

‘So
when’s the soundcheck, you old dog?’ Eddie asks him.

‘Get
the guys, I’ll see if we can do it now. I’m getting off in twenty minutes,’
Mick announces, walking off towards the sound booth.

‘Oh
I’ll bet you are,’ Eddie replies so only I can hear. ‘Shit. Did you see the
state of it?’ he asks me.

‘Oi,
don’t be a dick.’ I give him a playful push, careful not to knock him off his
crutches.

As
the band come out to do the soundcheck I make my way off the stage and into the
crowd which consists of Mick, his cleaning lady and Carla. Carla is still
taking photos, some of the band during the soundcheck, some of me and even some
of Mick and his lady friend. I’ll bet Carla doesn’t have a bad bone in her
body. I really hope Ben will start treating her better. I’m rather enjoying
having her around, it’s nice having another girl with us. Usually there is a
strict no girls rule (unless they’re just stopping by the bus), excluding
journalists and merch girls – although you don’t see quite so many girls
tagging along to sell the bands merchandise for them these days. The idea was
innocent enough, a female fan who tours with the band, free of charge on the
condition that she works behind the merchandise table all night, selling the
band’s t-shirts and CDs and things. That’s how it started at least. These days
the term is more widely used to describe a girl who tours with the band, but
they’re more of an outlet for, shall we say, sexual frustration, rather than an
outlet for official t-shirts. I’ll bet there are still perfectly innocent merch
girls out there getting a bad name because of this new trend. There is no way I
would ever be a merch girl, although I bet some people assume I am one when
they see me going around with the guys. The no girls rule also extends to
girlfriends. Of course there are always girls on and off the bus, but never for
more than one date. It’s different with Carla though, she isn’t some drunk girl
who I’ll never see again after she disappears with Eddie for a few hours. I
have the chance to chat to her, I can spend the gig with her and she’ll be at
the big party later. I meet lots of girls when I’m on the road with the guys,
but I rarely learn their names, or even find out their names in the first place,
and the same goes for the band, I don’t think they’re too fussed about taking
names either.

Once
the soundcheck is done Mick says he is leaving and that he will meet the band
at the hotel in the morning. We’re staying in a hotel just down the road from
here, and because it’s the last night of tour we have the biggest suite the
hotel had to offer. It’s going to be one hell of a party tonight. After a few
minutes of chatting I decide to go and get changed, it’s not long before the
gig starts.

‘Hey
Eddie, do you have a key for the bus?’ I ask. I left my bag on there to carry
his for him.

‘I
don’t babe, they don’t trust me with anything while I’m on these things,’ he
lifts his crutches as he speaks, quickly putting them back down to regain his
balance.

‘We
don’t trust you with anything, period,’ Mark chips in and everyone laughs. ‘Try
Luke, he’s backstage. I think he has it.’

They
carry on chatting as I make my way backstage again. Luke is there alone and I
feel nervous about talking to him.

‘Luke?’
I call as I walk through the door. It’s probably best to get straight to the
point, just in case he doesn’t want to talk to me.

‘Yep?’
he replies.

‘Do
you have a key for the bus? I need my bag to get changed.’

‘I
don’t. Mick has them both.’

‘But
Mick has gone...’

‘I
know. Did you need anything important?’

‘Oh,
only my clothes.’ I laugh, making a mental note to keep the clothes I am
wearing very clean because I’ll be wearing them all night and all morning.
‘Another gig of yours where I’ll be looking like crap, eh?’

‘You
look beautiful, don’t worry about it,’ he tells me as he turns back towards his
laptop.

There’s
that funny feeling in my stomach again. What is it with this guy? They say you
don’t miss something you never had, but less than twenty-four hours after
becoming Charles’ girlfriend, I am still wishing I was Luke’s.

Chapter Thirty-Seven: The Gig

I
officially love Carla, she is so much fun! We’ve spent the whole gig together
drinking, dancing, and drinking more. And she meant what she said earlier, she
really is taking a
lot
of photos – I can’t even begin to imagine how
make snaps of me she has, I’ve been posing like a super model all night. My
lips actually ache from pouting so much.

The
crowd is huge tonight and there are so many people squashed at the front of the
stage which is why we decided to stay at the back, so that we can dance.

I
texted Dylan earlier to see if he wanted to come down but he replied saying he
couldn’t because Crystal needed him – whatever, I’m having too much fun to
care. Maybe I’ve realised that most of the friends you make in this industry
are very short lived and easily replaced... or maybe I’m just drunk.

‘This
is our last song, but you guys have been fucking amazing! Our best crowd yet!’
Eddie yells into his microphone followed by a huge cheer from everyone in the
room. He may well say that at every gig, but tonight I think he really means
it. I have never seen such a big audience turn up to see them headline and I
feel strangely proud of my boys. Having known them since before they were
famous, it’s like watching your kids grow up well – or your Sims graduating
without cheats.

‘Nurse
Wilde, where are you?’ Eddie calls out, holding a hand over his eyes to shield
himself from the bright spotlights and examining the crowd.

‘Woo!’
I call out, hopefully not sounding as drunk as I feel.

Eddie
looks over in my direction, but he’s just following the sound of the “woo”, I
don’t think he can actually see me.

‘Nurse
Wilde has been looking after me while my leg is broken. You should be able to
spot her, because she should still be wearing her nurse’s cap.’

‘I
am, I am,’ I call out, fully aware that he can’t hear a word I am saying.

‘If
you see her, buy her a drink – I couldn’t have changed my pants if it wasn’t
for Naughty Nurse Wilde. This last song is for her.’

The
band burst into one of their best known songs to finish the gig.

I
feel a tap on my shoulder and spin around to face the barman. He says
something, but I can’t hear a word he is saying.

‘What?’
I shout, leaning over the bar to try and hear.

‘I
said these shots are for you.’ He pushes two little glasses overflowing with a
bright red liquid towards me. ‘I’m a big fan of the profession.’

‘Thank
you!’ I shout, picking them up and pushing one into Carla’s hand.

Without
saying a word we knock back our drinks, perfectly in sync with each other. I am
at that rather pleasant stage where you realise you are drunk and can therefore
try to keep a lid on the stupid behaviour. It’s that point just after tipsy,
but just before the stage Carla is at. I don’t think Carla can hold her drink
as well as I can, despite having the exact same amount to drink as me. More and
more of her photos are of the floor and every few minutes she throws her arms
around me and tells me that she loves me. I laugh and tell her I love her too.
I really hope we stay friends. I might even be able to convince the guys to let
her come on the next tour with us.

After
the gig various people stop by the bar and say hello to me, Naughty Nurse Wilde
as I am so lovingly being called, and a few people buy me a drink and ask me to
tell the guys how wonderful they are. As the crowd clear out a few people hang
back hoping for a chance to meet the band, and I spot a few journalists hanging
around waiting for the band to come out and do their interviews and what have
you.

Eventually
Eddie comes out looking slightly worried.

‘I’ve
had a call from the label, they have been trying to get in touch with Mick but
he’s turned his phone off. I’ve got to give them a ring back once we’re all
back at the hotel,’ he tells us, leaning close so that no one else can hear. I
smile at him in an attempt to calm him down but he looks really worried. He
hobbles over to the group of adoring fans waiting for him with a big smile on
his face, he’s such a professional.

Luke,
Mark and Ben walk out and Carla runs straight over to give Ben a big kiss. Luke
is walking straight towards me. I try to look cool, but my face feels weird.
The more normal I try to appear, the weirder it feels. I pick my drink up and
suck on my straw in an attempt to force my face to do something normal,
although it is probably the drink that is causing my problems.

‘Hello!’
I hiccup. ‘Great show!’

‘Thank
you. Listen, I’ve told Eddie we’ll meet them at the hotel later. I was hoping
we could go now and have a chat.’

I
look over at the rest of the band who are chatting to fans and journalists.
‘But don’t you have to...’

‘I’m
gonna pose for a couple of photos, but then we can go. We really need to clear
the air, Nic.’

‘Ok,
sure. Do what you gotta do.’

He
walks off towards his band mates and I turn around to face my bar man. ‘Can I
get a double vodka please?’ I ask him.

‘Sure.
On its own?’ he ask and sounds rather surprised, probably because I haven’t
drank anything tonight that wasn’t a bright colour, or claiming to have
something to do with a fruit.

‘On
its own,’ I insist. ‘It’s medicinal.’

Chapter Thirty-Eight: The After-Party

After
a short yet awkward walk to the hotel I am currently sitting on a sofa that is
twice the size of the bed in my flat, and my bed is a double. We are finally in
the suite after Luke had a bit of bother at reception because he didn’t know
what name they were checked in under. They have a selection of fake names which
they use when booking hotels, just in case any craves try to track them down.
When I was a crave we used to do that all the time, just try our luck and call
up every hotel in the city and ask if we could be put through to whoever we
were looking for, and you know what? A lot of the time it worked. These days
bands don’t want the attention so they used fake names. It took Luke several
attempts at guessing, naming various characters from Family Guy and South Park,
but when we finally worked out that there was a reservation in the name of Mr E
Cartman we managed to work things out pretty quickly. So here we are, me
sitting in the middle of the giant sofa and Luke rifling through the mini bar
to fix himself a drink – a drink which he informs me is his first of the night,
which is very unusual. Then again he’s probably on something harder these days.
He seems normal tonight though.