The Flaw in your Heart

40. "There's a Hole in my Sole"

Chapter 40

Tessa’s POV

It was the first day of the Christmas holidays and so far the day had been brilliant. I was stood in the dressing room with the guys, scrolling through Instagram, as they waited for the support act to finish. It was their last gig of the year, the next time they’d do a show it would be 2014. I thought about what the New Year would bring, and how it would go. In January I had my open heart surgery, so that wouldn’t be the best start to the year…

I was snapped out of my thoughts as a stagehand called the guys.

“Bastille are on in two minutes!” he called.

The lads followed him out and up to the back of the stage, and I trailed behind, still looking at my phone. It suddenly whisked out of my hand and I looked up, surprised to see Dan had it.

“Oi, I was just talking to you!” he said. “But you were far more interested in this thing!” he pointed to my phone.

“Well I’m sorry!” I said, reaching up and grabbing it back. “What did you say?”

“I said ‘Isn’t it weird this is our last gig for a while?’” 

“Oh, yeah it is”, I said. “I was thinking that earlier”

“Great minds think alike”, Will butted in, overhearing our conversation in the crowded area.

Me and Dan laughed in response, then suddenly the crowd cheered louder as the stage was finally ready for Bastille to come on.

“Have a great gig”, I said to the guys, as they all filed onstage nervously. 

“Thanks Tess”, Woody whispered, before following the other three.

The set began and I danced along at the side, getting funny looks from Mark. The gig was going great, almost everyone was singing along and Dan was unusually energetic, bouncing around the stage like a ten year old.

Flaws began, and the girls in the crowd began screaming – knowing they might have a chance of touching Dan when he did the Flaws-Walk. He managed to get upstairs, still singing all the way, and I shook my head smiling as he precariously hung himself over a balcony, hi-fiving someone.

He faltered ever so slightly for a moment and I noticed him look down at his feet several times. His face washed over in a painful grimace but he continued singing, making his way back down to the barrier and then to the stage. When the song ended Dan looked down at his foot and then looked out to the crowd, 

“I may have just impaled my foot on some broken glass”

That was all I heard before I began laughing, not because he’d hurt himself, but because of the way he’d said it. Typical accident prone Dan.

The lads came off the stage and I hopped up, greeting Dan as he came limping backstage.

“Dan, are you alright?” I asked, after my laughter had faded away.

“I think I’m bleeding”, he said. “You’re gonna be my crutch”, he put his hand on my shoulder, leaning on me as he walked with the paramedics who had appeared out of nowhere down to the dressing room. He sat down on the sofa, grimacing with pain as one of the paramedics removed his Converse.

“Ewww!” I cried, seeing his sock and the inside of his Converse (which were custom-made too, typical) soaked in bright red blood.

Kyle took a photo of him sat there in pain and I stood beside him, watching as the paramedic peeled his sock off carefully. I laughed as he gagged, gripping the sofa, and he shot me evils. I shut up, stifling my laughs, and Woody tried not to laugh as well. I was almost sick as I watched it, seeing all the blood, and I walked round next to Kyle to see a rather large cut in the middle of Dan’s foot.

“Ouch!” I said, quickly walking back next to Dan. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, that hurts more than that bauble”, he muttered, and I held in a giggle. I put my hand on his shoulder and he looked up, smiling. “It’s the other way round now, normally I’m the one holding your hand whilst you’re in pain”

I nodded, “Yep, now you know how it feels!”

He laughed, then gritted his teeth as they cleaned the wound. Once it was all patched up he put his bloody Converse back on, despite the now gaping hole in the sole of it.

“There’s a hole in my sole”, he said.

“Funny how you were singing Flaws at the time”, I said.

“Yes, rather appropriate”, he chuckled.

I followed them back to the stage and I listened, side-stage, as Dan apologised hugely for the break, and that his foot was better now. The crowd didn’t seem to mind, and cheered on for the next song. 

They carried on as they’d left it and I bobbed my head along to the songs. When the gig was finished Dan walked slowly offstage, trying not to limp, and I got up for him to lean on my shoulder.

“You’re a good crutch”, he said.

“What a compliment”, I laughed. 

Well, what a way to end the last gig of the year.