Only a Dream

3

"Do I look okay?"

I pivot on the stool to look at Van, who stares at me with his eyebrows raised and a mean stare.

"You look a state," he answers, soon looking back down towards his phone as I huff and turn around back to the mirror.

"Charming," I mutter and he laughs.

"Sorry if I don't approve of my girlfriend trying to pull Alex Turner," he scoffs and I roll my eyes.

"Maybe I want to look good for you," I smile and he raises his eyebrows.

"Don't take me for a fool," he smirks and I laugh.

"You're right, I'm lying. This is my first and possibly only opportunity and I am a firm believer in him seeing me in the crowd and whisking me away," I nod.

Van managed to score Arctic Monkeys tickets about five months ago for a show in Cardiff, and ever since I have been counting down the days until I can drool over Alex Turner since the day he announced that he'd bought them. Of course Van is no fan of my obsession with him, but we are both too in love with their music to not go to see them together. Van has said for as long as I can remember him- even back in school- that Alex is one of his biggest inspirations.

Alex might not necessarily be an inspiration for me, but he is a hell of a good singer and a proper sight for sore eyes. I haven't stopped banging on about my crush on him to Van since the moment we started hanging out all them months ago. It never used to bother him, until we became official.

When we arrive at the gig, we're both bundles of nerves. We find ourselves at the bar, ordering pint after pint as the opening act plays. We've been excitedly chattering about what songs we think they'll play, or what our dream setlist would be, even getting into conversation with a few around us on the topic.

By the time they do come on, we're both beyond tipsy and very over excited. We jump around like mad men, laughing as we bump into everyone, creating mosh pits, sweating from head to toe and probably the most humble we've ever been. There's no doubt this is the best experience we've had together, heightened by the alcohol and the love that we so obsessively share. At one point, I have my arms swung around Vans neck, kissing him desperately as if he's oxygen and I can't breathe without him against me. People shove and push us but we don't refrain from each other. Alex Turner is long lost in my mind as I dance with him, our sweaty hands held together as we jump around, laughing, giggling, loving.

And we should've stopped there really. We should've gone straight back to our hotel after the gig and let the excitement of the night ripple through us as we shagged each other silly. Unfortunately, we're both too crazy to put something to rest when needs be. Instead we find ourselves at a nightclub, which both Van and I usually hate. We're another three shots down, both on the verge of being sick, desperately toking cigarettes in the smoking area and mumbling words to each other only a mere few hours after the gig.

"How was it then?" Van smiles, he has me pinned against the brick wall of the building, his hips digging into mine, "fancy leaving me for Alex Turner yet?"

I scoff, and then let a cheeky smirk rest on my lips, "I already fancied leaving you for him. Nothing new here."

"You're real funny Kath," he smiles sarcastically and then tokes once more on his fag.

"Did you guys go to the gig as well?"

An excitable, short blonde girl pivots round to face us, her blue eyes glistening with drunkenness, but they don't sparkle towards me. Instead they rest on Van, who offers her a lazy smile as he agrees.

"Oh wow! Wasn't it just incredible?" she gushes, her hand landing on his arm.

He doesn't move it off, doesn't so much as glance to it as they continue to excitedly converse. He's moved away now, his body no longer covering mine in a passionate ordeal, instead his attention has shifted to this girl.