Authors: Portia MacIntosh
‘Can
we go back to being good friends?’
‘I’d
really like that,’ I reply, resting my head on his shoulder.
‘Good.
Forget the weirdness, things can go back to normal. I think you’re sobering up,
can I get you another drink?’
‘Oh,
yes please.’
‘As
soon as the lads get here the party will start. I wonder how Mick is getting
on.’
‘Mick,’
I say. ‘Mick is in my bad books. I want my damn clothes!’
‘You
and your clothes,’ he laughs. ‘Well if you can’t get changed, then I won’t
either. And I stink.’
‘The
groupies won’t like that,’ I tell him.
‘Well
tonight I’m not really interested in the groupies, so it’s ok.’
Luke’s
phone rings.
‘It’s
Ed,’ he tells me before he answers. ‘Mate... Yeah we’re in, bloody Mick nearly
dropped us in it... We’ll tell him he’s fired, he doesn’t need to know we’re
joking,’ he laughs down the phone. God, he looks gorgeous. He’s very typically
good looking, undeniably gorgeous in fact. You can tell he is a bit of a
ladies’ man just by looking at him, he oozes charm. He’s definitely got the
face for fame – I always say that about Dylan, too. He’s good looking, but in a
Robbie Williams sort of way. He’s got that rough and ready, bad boy look.
Charles... Charles is good looking but in a plain sort of way. The first thing
I noticed about him (after I’d calmed down) was how muscular he was, I’ll bet
the girls go wild for that – I know I did. Luke is really skinny and Dylan,
well he doesn’t give a damn. He’s not skinny, he’s not fat and I don’t think
he’ll ever care either way. It’s his don’t-give-a-damn attitude that attracts
the women, I think.
‘They’re
on their way, and with a shit-load of booze,’ Luke tells me when he has
finished on the phone. ‘I’m going to go down and meet them, you ok up here?’
‘Of
course.’
‘Here,’
Luke throws me his iPod and an interesting looking cable. ‘Set up the music for
when we get back, I’ve got a party playlist on there if you want to set that
going.’
‘Yeah,
I can handle that,’ I call after him. I examine the cable, and then the massive
stereo. At the back of the stereo there are a lot of very similar looking
sockets, I have no idea what to do with this cable. I plug one end into the
iPod, smiling with satisfaction at my victory. Well, half victory. There’s only
one thing to do – call Jake.
‘Jake!
You have to help me!’
‘What’s
wrong?’ he asks, sounding concerned.
‘Oh,
it’s nothing bad.’ I laugh, feeling guilty for worrying him. ‘I need IT
support.’
‘I
accept that when we are in the office it is my job to give you IT support, but
you have me on standby 24/7.’
‘Aww,
but you love me for it,’ I reply, knowing that he is only joking.
‘Go
on, what’s up?’
‘I
have an iPod, and some random cable, and a stereo. And I have to make them
work.’
Jake
laughs a little harder than I’d like. I am very tech-savvy with the things I
care about, like phones for example, but things like this go way over my head.
‘Describe
the back of the stereo to me, I’ll tell you which socket it goes in.’
‘Erm...’
‘What
can you see?’
‘Lots
of holes?’
More
laughter.
‘Ok,
take a photo and text me it.’
Oh
modern technology, how I love you. It only takes me a matter of seconds to take
a photo and send it to Jake. Instantly he knows where my cable needs to be, and
directs me towards it.
‘That
is one hell of a sound system. Where are you?’
‘Oh
shit! I forgot to tell you, I’m in London.’
‘London?’
he asks. He sounds surprised, but not that surprised. This kind of thing
happens a lot.
‘Yes,
with Two For The Road. I’m at the hotel, it’s after-party time.’
‘I
though you sounded a bit drunk. Will you be at work on Monday, young lady?’
‘Yes
boss.’
‘Before
I hang up, is there anything else you haven’t told me?’ he jokes, but it
reminds me that I do have something to tell him.
‘Oh!
Charles is my boyfriend. I have a boyfriend.’
‘No
way! Nicole Wilde, with a boyfriend. Congratulations you technophobe.’
‘Thank
you. Does it give you hope that you might find a girlfriend one day?’
Jake
laughs because he knows I don’t mean this.
‘Right,
I have to go. Tell Emily for me.’
‘I
will, have fun tonight. But not too much, remember you have a boyfriend now,
although he’s probably there isn’t he?’
‘Erm,
no he’s not actually.’
‘Oh
dear!’ He laughs at me again. ‘Behave.’
I
hang up the phone a matter of seconds before the guys walk through the door
followed by Carla and a bunch of people I don’t know.
‘Look
what I got,’ Luke holds up two bottles of champagne and I notice that Mark has
another two. ‘Geezer behind the bar was a fan, he gave us these. I told him to
come up when he finishes.’
Eddie
eases himself onto the sofa next to me.
‘I’ve
got to give the label a ring, we may not feel like drinking them after we hear
what they have to say.’
‘Just
do it, man. Get it out the way and we’ll get pissed afterwards,’ Luke tells
him, but he is looking worried too. This is the band’s first proper headlining
tour since they signed their record deal, so everything is riding on the
success of this tour. The fact that someone at the label wants to speak to them
now – it’s probably going to be really good news or really bad news.
‘Fuck
it. I’m calling them,’ Eddie declares, and everyone quietens down to listen in.
It’s hard to get an idea of what is being said because we can only hear Eddie’s
side of the conversation. His voice and face are emotionless, and everything he
says is completely devoid of clues.
‘Ok,
well thanks for calling us tonight, I’ll let the band know. Thank you. Bye.’
Eddie
presses a few buttons on his phone and eventually he looks up, still with a
blank expression.
‘Come
on, spit it out,’ Luke insists.
‘It’s
bad, innit? Just tell us man,’ Mark adds after a few more seconds of silence.
Everyone in the room is looking at Eddie, waiting for him to say something.
Whether he’s singing on stage or standing in a room of people, he knows how to
work a crowd.
‘Get
that fucking champagne open,’ Eddie says before a huge grin spreads across his
face. ‘Because next year we are going on a fucking arena tour of Europe!’ he
yells, no longer able to control his excitement. The rest of the band look on
in amazement before erupting with happiness and the rest of the room quickly
follow.
‘Mate,
get on the phone to room service, we’re going to need more champagne,’ Luke
says to a man I don’t know. ‘We really do have something to celebrate tonight.’
Eddie
fidgets with one of the bottles we already have, shaking it vigorously.
‘Is
that a good idea?’ I giggle.
‘Of
course it fucking isn’t!’ he says, popping the cork and spraying champagne
everywhere. Stuck on the sofa with Eddie, I scream - mainly with delight - as
the champagne flows all over us. As the spray calms down, Eddie holds the
bottle to his lips and starts necking the remaining contents. He doesn’t get
far before he starts coughing, and passes the bottle onto someone else.
‘Wooo!’
he screams. ‘I am on top of the fucking world!’
I
have never seen him so happy. The music starts playing, and despite not being
able to move Eddie dances - from the waist upwards anyway. Looking down at my
white top I realise that not only is it soaking wet, but it is also see-through
and my bright pink bra is on show for all to see. In fact everything I am
wearing is soaked in champagne. Bloody Mick. I can’t spend the night in these
wet clothes, smelling like a boozed-up tramp (a rich boozed-up tramp, this
stuff looks and tastes awfully expensive) but my clothes are locked on the bus.
Why does this stuff always happen to me? Still, this is a celebration and I’m
not letting anything get in the way.
A
random person pushes a glass into my hand and we all toast the band.
Afterwards,
I search for the bathroom, although I’m not entirely sure what I’m going to do
when I get there that will help to dry my clothes. Maybe a towel? I laugh at
myself and conclude that I am drunk enough to think I can towel dry my clothes,
but sober enough to laugh at it. At the rate I am drinking, that won’t last
very long. Maybe I should slow down.
I
bump into Luke who looks me up and down.
‘Hello!’
he says to my chest. ‘Nice bra.’
‘Oh
God, don’t,’ I insist, folding my arms. ‘I can’t believe this has happened, and
when I don’t have anything to change into. Again.’
‘I’ve
got a band hoodie if you’re interested?’
‘What
band?’ I ask, seriously. Luke grins and I realise that it will be his band.
‘I’m
nothing but advertising space to you, am I?’ I joke.
‘Well,
if you wanna keep that on by my guest.’
I
give in. ‘Get me the damn hoodie.’
He
rummages around in his backpack and tosses the hoodie at me. I thank him,
mainly because it’s not bright orange or enormous.
‘When
you’re changed meet me by the table, we’re doing celebratory shots.’
‘Yeah,
will do.’ I continue my search for the bathroom and change my top and although
the rest of my clothes are wet I feel better already, despite another makeshift
dress.
I
find Luke with Mark, Eddie and a few other people who are all introduced to me,
but I don’t remember a single name. The glasses are lining up with a variety of
different liquids being poured into them.
‘It’s
better you don’t know,’ Luke laughs, reading my mind. I am temporarily
disorientated by a blinding flash of light, it’s Carla and her camera. She is
gone as fast as she appeared.
‘Right,
come on then,’ Luke says to everyone sat at the table. ‘This one first.’
I
hesitate.
‘Come
on Nicole, you can drink most of these guys under the table.’
‘Yeah,
well I’ve had one hell of a head start,’ I insist, but everyone is looking at
me so I reach for my glass. We’ll put this one down to peer pressure.
A
few shots later I feel much less aware of what is going on, but I keep
drinking. I feel great! Everything is coming together nicely and everyone is
happy. Luke grabs my hand.
‘Come
on, let’s dance.’
I
have no idea what the song is – things are starting to get fuzzy - but I
somehow manage to get onto my feet. It’s party time!
My
hangover has hit me like a ton of bricks. I woke up on the huge sofa, so I guess
I slept here... along with six other people, none of whom I know. I sit up
slowly because my head is throbbing and I feel dizzy as hell. I must have gotten
so drunk last night because I only remember up to a certain point, although
this is probably for the best. Resting my head in my hands I finally find the
courage to open my eyes again and find myself looking down at my bare legs.
Where the hell are my trousers? What was I even wearing last night? A skirt I
think. I remember the impromptu wet t-shirt competition, and changing into the
hoodie which, thankfully, I am still wearing. I still have knickers on too,
which is always a good sign. As far as I know I am the first one to wake up,
but I’ve got no idea what time it is. I scooch along the sofa carefully, trying
not to wake anyone up. I am equally as careful as I tiptoe across the room to
the bathroom – I wouldn’t want to stand on anyone.
I
peer around the open bathroom door slowly – something I learned to do the hard
way. The only person in there is Mark, who he is asleep in the bath. I glance
around the room for my clothes and spot them on the towel rack. I feel them and
not only are they dry, but they are warm too. I change into them carefully,
putting the hoodie back on over my stinky top, hoping it will mask the smell of
champagne so I don’t smell like a drunk on the journey home. I wash my face and
rinse my mouth under the tap after using my finger as a toothbrush with the
help of the complimentary toothpaste. I am bursting for the toilet but I’m not
sure I want to have a wee with Mark in the room, even if he is asleep. Lifting
the toilet lid, still unsure if I should risk it or not, the decision is made
for me because it’s full of random things. At I glance I can see a trainer, a
toilet roll and I think everything is covered in sick. I don’t think I will
ever need the toilet badly enough to reach in there and fish them out.
I
bravely look in the mirror and instantly wish I hadn’t, but it does amuse me to
see that I am still wearing my nurse’s cap.
Back
in the main room I search for my handbag. The room is well and truly trashed
but the TV is still on the wall and none of the windows are broken – they would
have been Dylan’s first port of call if he were here last night.