Anything (Van McCann | CATB Fan Fiction)

20. Portland, OR

|Van|

"A dated and ham-fisted debut from the Llandudno quartet, Catfish And The Bottlemen's debut arrives pent-up with frustration..." Benji read the NME article aloud against the noises of the people in the bar we sat at. Dan received the article from our management in London via email and it wasn't surprising at all that the band was given a bad press to be honest.

"Bloody hell. It's not enough that they have called us twats," Bob frowned, shaking his head.

"McCann howls like a hungover Luke Pritchard over riffs and choruses stuck firmly in 2005," Benji continued reading aloud, so engrossed in the article that I wished he would just toss the device out.

"Benji, lad, stop wasting your time reading that trash article," Bondy threw a peanut at him.

"They gave our album a 4 out of 10 mate. I think that's too generous," Benji laughed.

"Fuck it. If they are giving us shit, I'd prefer it. I'd hate to bow down to NME and kiss their ass," I hissed, realizing that Vienna was recording us on her camera from across the table, her eyes focused on the screen. I made her flinched when I winked into the camera, which humour me a little as her cheeks turned red. I just loved it when she's embarrassed and all that.

"Back to the job centre if the album doesn't sell," Larry muttered, adding, "No pressure, mate." He then began to massage my shoulder blades to make me feel good but, honestly, I was feeling down a bit. I'd like to tell people that I didn't care, but, Larry was right. If the band fails, that's practically game over for us. It's game over for me. I couldn't imagine doing anything else other than being in the band. There was no Plan B for me.

"I don't get it. You guys seem to do very well here. People are buzzing about your band," Vienna murmured with furrowed brows, holding her camera down.

"That's one weird thing if you're a band from UK. People are just trying to knock you down any way possible, get what I mean? They only want one Alex Turner to talk about for the rest of their lives like how they only want one Noel Gallagher. They are not made up about new, young bands popping up because to them, you will never be the next Alex Turner," I told her.

"Forget NME, mate. You are all booked for all the major festivals next year. We should be made up about that instead," Dan raised his beer bottle. "To Glastonbury, Reading, Leeds, T in The Park and every other that's coming our way!"

"Cheers!" The boys cheered in unison.

I was the last to clink my glass. "Cheers, mates!" Vienna was pulling her camera up again, recording our little celebration. "Nah, you should celebrate with us. Give that to me," I took her camera away from her hand to which she resisted.

"No," she covered her face, trying to grab her camera back from my hand, refusing to let me record her.

"Come on. It'll be like a little introduction of yourself on our tour diary. Come on, you can do it ," I chuckled, still holding on her camera tight in my palm.

"Nobody wants to waste their time watching me, Van," she murmured, still adorably covering her face.

"I would waste my time for you, Vienna," Benji smirked, adding, "Any time wasted for you is time well spent."

"There you go!" I chuckled. Although I was a bit uncomfortable that Benji was flirting with Vienna for the millionth time. I was suddenly becoming protective of her.