“Come in, I’m about to have an aneurism,” I said hurriedly, my voice breathy as I ushered Jimmy into the hallway, slamming the front door behind him. I wiped at my brow and lent against the staircase as he slipped off his shoes. “What am I going to do?” I frowned. “I can’t believe I asked him to come here, it’s like inviting the vampire into the house! I’m that girl!”
“You never know,” Jimmy’s voice was consoling and he walked into the front room, sitting down on the floor and standing his guitar up against the sofa. “He might have changed?”
“This is Patrick we’re talking about,” I reminded him, my heart beat becoming erratic, “he doesn’t change.” I sat down besides him and tipped my head backwards, groaning as if I were in real pain.
“It will be fine,” he put an arm around me and squeezed tight, letting me lean my head against his shoulder. “I’m here, remember? The minute he does something dick-like-” He stopped then and we both looked at each other. “Okay, maybe the minute he does something offensive-slash-illegal, I’ll kick him out on his arse so quick.”
“Thanks, Jim,” I smiled, looking down and fiddling with my fingers. “Do you promise you’re going to do this? If it all works out?” I asked hopefully, raising my eyebrows.
“Yeah,” he chuckled, nodding, “I’ll do it, if we’re good and we have a shot.”
“But if we start gigging and working in the studio, it would be so great to be able to have someone in the band who’s done it before and knows what it’s like,” I said enthusiastically. “I mean, I’m new to this, and I know Patrick’s done it, but hopefully before long Freddie will change his mind and come join in.”
“I will be here,” Jimmy held onto my hands and kissed my forehead, “as long as you want me.”
“Forever then?” I smiled sweetly, making him laugh again. Suddenly, there was a loud noise as someone knocked at the front door, making me jump. “Please let it be Sebastian,” I rolled my eyes, standing up and walking to the door, pulling it open for a second time. “Hi!” I grinned.
“Hey! Lana, right?” He said unsurely, standing on the doorstep slightly awkwardly.
“Yeah, I think we met at Fred’s one time, right?” I showed him into the hall and gave him a hug, before he slipped off his pair of Chelsea boots and stood them next to Jimmy’s scuffed Vans.
“Yeah, I remember,” he agreed.
Was it weird, that as I saw him, I saw the band’s image? We all seemed to fit the same kind of genre, all fairly good looking, all slightly awkward; I felt it in my bones, this was going to work, it had to. Seb was tall, almost as tall as Jimmy, with short, brown hair which stood longer on top to form a kind of vertical quiff. He was skinny, wearing skintight jeans and a scruffy t-shirt, and holding a large wooden stool under his arm.
“Is this the drum box?” I assumed, even though it was obvious to what the answer was.
“Yeah,” he nodded, following me into the front room.
“I’ve never used one before, I’ve always wanted to,” I smiled over my shoulder and sat down in the middle of the floor, between Jimmy and Seb. “Seb, this is Jimmy, Jimmy, Seb,” I gestured between them, “I don’t know if you’ve met before?”
“I think, a few times,” Seb narrowed his eyes.
“Yeah, maybe at Jake’s?” Jimmy wondered.
“Barnes?” He replied, Jim nodded. “Yeah, we’ve probably been at the same parties more than a few times.”
“Yeah,” Jimmy agreed. “I think we should get started because Patrick is always late anyway.”
“Really?” Seb frowned.
“He’s an incredible arse,” I said in a matter-of-fact way, Seb looked at me curiously. “We used to date, back in the day,” I laughed wearily, “he cheated on me.” I had stopped saying it with any real emotion, it was just a fact now.
“Why would someone do that? I mean, if I had you as a girlfriend, I’d probably want to carry on with going out with you,” Seb spoke in a joking tone.
“Well, I didn’t always look like this, I was chubby and geekier and-”
“You weren’t chubby,” Jimmy disagreed.
“A little, don’t lie,” I giggled.
“To be honest, if you hadn’t of been attractive back then, Patrick would never have admitted he liked you,” Jimmy pointed out, “he’s too narcissistic to be seen with someone less attractive than himself.”
“You do have a point there,” I agreed.
“Where shall we start then?” Jim asked, “As we wait for prick of the year, Pat.”
“Well, I’ve been writing a little,” I confessed, “and me and Jimmy have jammed a few times, right?”
“Indeed we have, why don’t you play one of your songs, one you’re happy with and finished, and we’ll try to catch up and play along?” He suggested and Seb nodded in agreement, grabbing a seat on an arm chair and leaning over so his hands curled over the drum box.
“Okay, I can do that,” I agreed, fetching my acoustic guitar from across the room before sitting back down, cross legged, adjusting the cappo so that it sat on the second fret of the neck. “One, two, three-” My speech was broken off by another loud knock at the door. “He was never great at timing,” I said sarcastically, laying my guitar down on the ground and jumping up. I walked to the front door, taking deep breaths as I went, before opening it and facing one of my greatest nightmares.
“You know, I didn’t think it would be possible for you to have grown any more beautiful since the last time we saw one another,” he said straightly, and despite how much I hated him, I felt that familiar warmth radiating from my chest, as if we were still in love.
“Wow, Patrick,” I said with mock enthusiasm, “I must sleep with you right this second.”
“See,” he shrugged, stepping into the house and kicking off his shoes, “I don’t know why people get mad, girls just can’t resist me.”
“Somehow I haven’t missed that absolute charm,” I smiled and he gave me a hug, despite how cold I was being. He still smelt the same and felt the same, but after hearing him speak, after being this close to him, I didn’t feel anything apart from mild fondness. I think on seeing him, when I opened the door, it was as if we were back together, because I was just looking at him. He was beautiful, no-one could deny that; his voice turned me off.
“Where’s Jimmy and Seb, neither of them have girlfriends right?” Pat checked.
“No,” I rolled my eyes.
“Good, I wouldn’t be able to resist,” he whispered into my ear, making me cringe.
“Jim, Seb, this is Patrick,” I introduced, sitting back down and resting my guitar on my lap.
“Nice to see you again,” Jimmy lent across and punched fists with him and Seb did the same.
“So what are we doing?” He asked, taking his bass out of it’s case and holding it in his arms, plugging the lead into a portable amp which he could clip onto the waistband of his jeans.
“Lana was about to start playing us one of her songs when you knocked at the door,” Jim explained, unpacking his amp and plugging in his mint green stratocaster, adjusting the treble and bass settings before sitting back down.
“Come on then, hit us with your best shot, Miss O’Rourke,” Pat prompted.
“It’s called The Runaways,” I said modestly, “Feel free to join in with anything you see fit.” I counted myself in and began to play the chords. The words fell from my lips perfectly, the tune rising and falling in all the right places. When I stopped at the end of the verse Jimmy started to play around with different guitar riffs which fitted in with the chord progression. Seb cut in with a drum beat as Patrick began playing a simple bass line, making it more complex when he was sure of what chords I would move to next.
Once the song had finished, I looked up at my boys and began to smile, giggling happily as I clasped a hand to my mouth. Jimmy winked and Pat just looked knowing, as if he understood just how great that had sounded, and wasn’t about to make one of his idiotic jokes about it. In the end, it was Seb that spoke first.
“Was it just me, or did that sound fucking brilliant?” Sebastian said, in such a matter of fact voice that it caused the other three of us to burst out laughing. It felt nice to be with them, to have three friends whom I wouldn’t have to see everyday at school, whom weren’t girls; boys were so much easier to get along with, they were simple creatures.
“It sounded incredible,” Jimmy agreed, “didn’t it? I mean, what a song, Lana!”
“It’s only,” I paused, taking a deep breath, “it’s just one that I’ve written.”
“You have others?” Patrick said surprisedly, “Like that? As good as that?” I liked surpassing people’s expectations, it meant that I wasn’t as I initially seemed, I wasn’t normal or boring like some people my age.
“Well, that’s my favourite,” I explained, “but I have some others, similar ones. There’s the one me and Jimmy started writing, ages ago,” I reminded him and Jimmy nodded, sucking on his bottom lip.
“That was ages ago now though,” Jim chuckled, “but we should do some more, we should start writing again.”
“So you’re in, you think we should do this?” I asked hopefully.
“Hell yeah!” Patrick said animatedly. “I mean, I’d hate to sound inappropriate, but with you at the front, we could make it, I really think that.”
“Why is that inappropriate?” I pouted.
“He’s implying that you’re hot, and people will want to watch us because we’re attractive,” Jimmy said tiresomely.
“What? It’s true,” Pat had no problem with being egotistical. “Sex sells, dude.”
“Just to confirm, we’re not selling sex? Right?” Seb asked, managing to keep a straight face.
“Not at first,” I retorted, making him laugh.
“We should meet once a week,” Jimmy suggested.
“Oh come on,” Pat rolled his eyes.
“No, I know this was my idea or whatever,” I said bluntly, “but Jimmy has done all this before, and he should be the one to help organize it all.”
“Thanks,” Jimmy said, his cheeks becoming a little more rosy than usual. “I think we should practice every week, if we need to cancel, that’s fine, but we should aim to do it.”
“What day are people free?” I raised my eyebrows, “Sunday morning? Monday after college?”
“Sunday afternoon would be good, two-ish?” Jim suggested.
“I can do that,” Seb agreed and Patrick made a grunting noise which implied he was alright with what we had decided.
“And we,” Jimmy gestured to him and I, “should get together and do some writing, because I have some songs that would go with yours, but I think it’s important that we have some together.”
“We should start thinking of names as well,” Seb noted.
“Yeah, it would be good to start creating an image and an identity, and if we recorded a few demos and tried to get them out there on twitter and facebook and bandcamp,” Jimmy continued, speaking with confidence, “I know it’s quick, but with you in the media at the moment, I mean, I know that you wouldn’t want to use it, or him, but-”
“No!” I interrupted him, “Kit knows, he’s behind us, I think it would be good for me to use the publicity I’ve been getting to promote the band, when we’ve started off.”
“I feel it,” Jimmy lent towards me, smiling mischievously, “in my bones, in the tips of my toes. I feel the magic.”
* * *
“It’s so fucking freezing,” Patrick shivered, wrapping his arms around his chest.
“Pull yourself together, Patrick,” I said, hugging my arms around Jimmy’s torso so that his coat covered part of my back, “stop being a drama queen.”
“I’m not being a drama queen, I’m just saying, where the hell is he, we’ve been waiting for-”
“Freddie!” I screamed as I saw him emerging from the venue’s front doors. He jogged over to us and encased me in his long arms. He was one of the tallest people I knew, taller than Jimmy, probably around six foot three. He had messy blonde hair curled on top of his head, and a strangely beautiful face, with a smooth complexion. People often called him beautiful, because he wasn’t just handsome, there was something timeless about his whole visage.
“Hey,” he whispered into my blonde tresses, “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too,” I frowned, “why haven’t we seen each other in so long?”
“You’ve been off galavanting in Hollywood,” he chuckled and I nodded, touching my fingers to my frigid cheeks. “Hey, man,” he gave Jimmy and Seb a hug and nodded at Patrick in acknowledgment.
“You should visit me at school,” I urged, “please, it would literally make my day.”
“I will! I’ll come and surprise you,” he agreed. “Come on in then, you can come and see the rest of the band.”
“How’s Jamie?” I wondered, the guitarist of the group.
“He’s good, he’s just warming up,” Freddie got our hands stamped at the door of the club and slipped through the crowds of people, leading us to the backstage door and taking us to where all the bands were waiting.
Freddie had been in a band since we were all around sixteen, Tiger Rocks, and most of our year had heard of them and were fans, due to the fact all of his friends had spread them so far across twitter and facebook. They played regular gigs and I had been to a fair few of them, but it seemed like they had reached a block in their career; despite their popularity, they had never been offered a contract, not yet anyway.
“Lana!” Jamie grinned when I entered the room and stood up, steadying his guitar up against the sofa and giving me a hug. “Is it weird that I’m extremely proud of you for bagging a celebrity boyfriend?” He raised his eyebrows inquiringly and I just giggled.
“No, I think that’s alright,” I grinned, “I’m kind of proud of myself too,” I uttered quietly, causing a low, rumbling chuckle to escape his lips.
“We’re going on in like ten minutes,” Freddie explained, “the other two are having a fag outside.”
“Well, you might have some competition soon,” Jimmy said subtlety.
“You’re doing it?!” Fred exclaimed, his eyes widening.
“Yeah,” I nodded, smiling happily. “We had a jam this afternoon and it went brilliantly and I think we sound wonderful together.”
“Aw, come here,” Freddie gave me another one of his warm, suffocating hugs. “I’m so happy for you,” he whispered.
“There’s one thing missing,” I muttered, so I knew only he could hear it.
“Oh yeah?”
“You,” I said simply. “Just think about it, will you?” I asked hopefully.
“I’ll think about it,” he replied, kissing me on the cheek before pulling away and going to do a soundcheck with his guitarist.
He was the missing piece, and as good a bassist as Patrick was, I didn’t know how long I would be able to stand him being near me; Freddie was the one we needed, I was sure, more sure than the ground we stand on or the air we breathe.