Finding Heaven

Part 1: The Conscientious Boy from Frodsham

An unsatisfied huff, and a crumpled look of distaste was all the boy from Frodsham could manage to conjure, as he surveyed his 19 year old self in the mirror. His eyes travelled from the newly bleached, spikey blond hair of his reflected self, staring back at him; to the black vest, striped cycling shorts and red bomber jacket. He'd definitely worn worse but he'd also definitely not win the best dressed in the band. To be honest he had arrived far too late to the outfit choosing which had simply consisted of their Manager, Nigel throwing a bag of clothes into whatever make shift dressing room they were currently forced to endure, at some club in Manchester. The other four young lads from the North West had immediately scrambled to their feet and descended on bag of mismatch clothing like vultures squabbling over a meat carcass. On this occasion, however, Gary had definitely been left with scraps. He'd simply been too busy to notice the clothes induced chaos around him, as he frantically concentrated on putting the finishing touches to a new track they were supposed to be premiering that very night. It was Howard Donald that eventually reminded him he needed to be actually getting ready for their gig, since they were due on stage in 15 minutes.

So now Gary was staring at himself in the mirror trying to muster some sense of self confidence when all he actually felt like was an idiot, and as far as he was concerned, he looked like one too. He usually wouldn't care, but that very afternoon, their manager Nigel Martin-Smith had dropped hints about him needing to lose some weight, and maybe catch a tan so he could at least look a bit like the other lads. The words had hit him harder than he'd thought they could, after all - Gary usually wouldn't put that much care in to his appearance, but since seeing the other lads invest such significant periods of time; pruning, oiling, toning their own bodies and choosing their clothes methodically, Gary had quickly grown more self-conscious of his short comings in his appearance. Nigel's negative comments simply confirmed it.

"Ha! You look fucking ridiculous!" A young voice gleefully chuckled from behind him, surprising him more than a little.

"Thanks Robbie" Gary said grumpily, not even turning around to acknowledge the presence of the provoking youngest member. Instead, Gary swiftly left both the mirror and Robbie behind him as he shoved all his misgivings and negative thoughts to the back of his head, and proceeded to walk down the corridor to the rehearsal room. Inside Jason, Mark and Howard were manically practising some last minute moves to Gary's new track that was now playing over the stereo speakers; "Once You've Tasted Love". As he watched the guys wiggling their hips and gyrating like crazy, alarm bells in his head began to sound – there was no way he could do that and look natural. Worst still he knew this frantic rehearsal was not actually for the intention of that night's performance but instead was in preparation for a spot on TV, the very next day.

"Eh lads, before you get a little carried away, I best tell you I've just made a few last minute changes to the opening of the track," Gary informed them, "it shouldn't make too much difference to the routine, only the timing."

Mark and Howard had momentarily stopped with a look of concern, but on heeding Gary's words, they simply shrugged their compliance and went back to their rehearsal; throwing all sorts of shapes with their arms and circling their pelvis – it was enough to make Gary's insides turn to jelly! He knew he should be excited to be performing on TV, and he was, for the 'singing his own material part', but the thought of having to dance like the other lads just left him with a monsoon of butterflies circulating his stomach like a tornado.

"What's the matter, Barlow?" Came a sudden and strangely soft voice in his ear, "You worried about the choreography...or just think it's all beneath you?!" the soft voice cruelly laughed.

"Get lost Robbie", Gary sighed tiredly, he had no time to put up with Robbie's irritating baiting words. In fact he'd really much prefer the lad to just permanently push off, and leave him the hell alone.