A.N. I reccomend listening to the song on the side while reading this chapter. Seriously fanning my face after watching all 'em moves :P
FIVE
It was Saturday evening and Angie and I had spent the morning in bed just lounging around and chilling out, we didn’t want to overdo ourselves before the concert tonight. We got up around midday, ate some food and then went clothes shopping. The shops and markets in London were magnificent, there was such a greater variety of clothes and I understood why every time Angie went away she bought something else.
At a market stall I bought an aqua blue mini dress with short sleeves and a white Peter Pan collar. Angie had said and I quote “you look cute.” To which I smacked her arm because I was seventeen, cute was not my aim. Angie had bought a rubber duck yellow dress that was even shorter than mine and with her white boot heels it made her legs look as if they would never end. She wore a white Alice hand in her hair, leaving the rest to flow like liquid gold down the length of her back. I had the same hairstyle as yesterday as I thought it suited me.
“I cannot wait.” She exclaimed as she checked for the hundredth time that we definitely had our tickets.
“It’s going to be the best,” I enthused beside her as we shared the mirror to do our makeup.
When it was time to leave we opted for the stairs rather than the lift, neither of us trusted it much. Walking along the pavement we most definitely received some looks, even, to my astonishment, I did. There was a queue already forming outside of the theatre where the gig was at so we joined the back of it. The line moved slowly and the wind that streaked through the area was not kind to our bare legs. We came at a good time because not long after and the rest of the audience began turning up in their babbling droves, piling on the back. It took ten minutes before we were at the front and getting the back of our hands stamped.
The atmosphere was brilliant, everyone was excited and enthusing desperately about the band they’d come to see. We took our seat although it was evident that when it got started there wouldn’t be much sitting involved. I wondered about the plays that had taken place here, Romeo and Juliet, Julius Caesar, the likes of the Shakespearian actors and here were rock stars coming to shake the very beams of the building. I couldn’t wait; my knee was bobbing up and down in pure anticipation and thrill.
A small group of other excited teenage girls clambered into the seats beside Angie and me and began squealing together. “Should I go and get some food or some drink?” Angie asked looking about at what everyone else was doing.
“Are you thirsty?”
“No.”
“Then no, don’t get any. Stop stressing; it’s usually me that’s the worrier. Just chill and have the time of your life.” About twenty minutes later and the equipment, i.e the instruments were getting set up, men walked on and off stage, paying no attention to the crooning girls screaming and yelling. “Oh my God it’s going to begin soon!”
The first band were distinct. Angie had one of their albums and she nudged me and both of us jumped to our feet like everyone else. A man took to the microphone and his eyes took in all of us. “Hello, good evening, hope that you all have an enjoyable night.” Roger Daltrey bowed his head and then the drummer yelled “one two three four” and a cacophony of beautiful music thundered straight for us. The loudness reverberated through the theatre, vibrating through our very souls. This was what I’d been missing my entire life, this.
Like all the other girls I clapped and screamed and sung along. It was the best night of my entire existence. Angie was there waggling her hips with her arms in the air while the short haired girl beside me had her hands cupped around her mouth so she could literally just scream at The Who the entire time. I thought that my right eardrum would explode from the strength of it.
The Who did three songs and then after bowing and allowing us to scream our appreciation at them for a minute they waved and walked off. Some instruments were added, some were swapped. The next band were just as big, maybe even a little better than The Who. Rough Justice. The guitarist, Michael Horn, was already in place and twiddling as he presumably warmed up.
Next was the lead singer, a handsome man with floppy brown hair and mesmerising big lips. Jack Flash, he was sometimes known as that, a sort of stage name. I couldn’t remember his real surname not that it mattered. He flicked his head back before running a hand through his hair and when the rest of the band was ready they began. The band had been heavily influenced by the blues and America’s idea of rock ‘n’ roll but with Jack’s beautiful voice they gave it their own twist. He had a way of flicking his notes up at the end or raising one corner of his big top lip and snarling endearingly at the audience. He was a rock star alright.
I enjoyed Rough Justice the most. After they were done the crowd cheered and I swear the roof of the building was going to be blown off when the Beatles began shuffling onto the stage. I clapped and cheered but I was nowhere near the level of hysteria that most of the girls were at. Some girl at the end of the row fainted into the arms of her friend she’d worked herself up that much. They were exceedingly spectacular though, there was no denying that and just by being there I was involving myself in some kind of extravagant historical masterpiece. Like with Elvis Presley and Marilyn Monroe, you just knew that they were going to go down in the history books for forever more.
Angie was fanning herself with her hand as they played their fourth song. “This is so unbelievable!” She screamed at the top of her lungs to me. I nodded vigorously as the song ended and we all erupted, stomping our feet, clapping our hands and screeching our adoration. You could barely even hear the music but it didn’t really matter because the experience was enough to swell my stomach full of butterflies.
When it was over we piled out of the swelteringly hot theatre into the cold dark night of London. My ears were ringing loudly causing my eyes to water but I didn’t even care. I was running too much on the high of the atmosphere from inside the theatre. Angie grabbed my hands and we danced in circles, too excited to do anything else. “You know where we’re going now?” She spoke loudly in a croaky, overused voice.
I began searching for my pack of cigarettes. “Where?”
“To that bar in the hotel!” She said pulling at my arm so I stumbled along after her. It was about a twenty five minute walk to the hotel and we stopped off at a pub before closing time just to have a drink, we were talking too loudly but that was so we could hear over the ringing in our ears and the regulars gave us disgruntled looks.
When we eventually stumbled through the foyer of the hotel the staff at reception looked on disapprovingly, we staggered towards the bar and sat down at two stools, watching the bartender juggle around with cocktails. “When you’re ready.” Angie laughed and he placed the down and leaned on the counter in front of her, staring at her flirtatiously as every man seemed to.
“What can I do for you?” He purred.
“She’ll have what I’m having.” Angie grinned, gesturing to me. “I’ll have a Bloody Mary if you please.” She added a small wink his way as well. Knowing what was expected I rummaged in my handbag and pulled out the money, slapping it onto the bar top. “Enjoy it sister.” Angie grinned as the bartender handed us our drinks.
The bartender hung around, the rest of the bar was pretty empty apart from a posh looking couple huddled in the corner, the bartender flirted outrageously with my friend and lapping it up she trickled a few compliments back. Unfortunately for me I had unknowingly become the gooseberry, looking about not wanting to ruin the moment.
When we’d worked our way through our third Bloody Mary an entourage of people came laughing and talking into the bar, I glanced over my shoulder and could not believe my eyes. It was the band of Rough Justice and their groupies and managers. I stared until I thought I was being too obvious and excitedly nudged Angie who glared at me. “What!”
“Look,” I stage whispered glancing over her shoulder and soon she followed my gaze and in her shock and fluster actually fell off of her bar stool. I flew a hand over my mouth to stifle the babble of laughter but trust Angie to make looking like a right klutz attractive. Helping her to her feet both me and the bartender were suppressing laughter.
“You’re laughing at me!” She said glancing over her shoulder when she probably shouldn’t have because the band had all witnessed her blunder and were smirking at her. She narrowed her eyes at the bartender who had returned to the safety of behind the bar. “Just for that I aint going to do nothing with you. I’m going to go and bed Jack Flash.”
I snorted, “You think he’ll want to sleep with you after that?”
“Made him laugh didn’t I?” She shrugged quickly returning to her usual self. “At least I made a memorable impression. I’m going to go over there and show off what he can have and then when we both walk away I’m going to smirk smugly right at the both of you two,” she waggled a finger between the bartender and me. “And you’ll regret laughing at me.” Flicking her hair over her shoulder she gave us a “watch this and see bitches” look and then sauntered over to the band as if fear were something she’d squashed under her foot many years ago.
“Bet she’ll get knocked back straight away.” The bartender muttered to me, acknowledging my presence for the first time.
Scowling at him I shook my head, “we both know she’s gunna do exactly what she just said.” We watched the scene, all twenty odd of them looked at Angie, the girls did not look happy to see her at all but whenever one of the men glanced at them they’d smile and pretend to be pleased. Angie kept flicking her hair about but she seemed like a puppeteer marching in and taking control of her puppets. It was incredible to watch. A moment later Michael Horn was on his feet and pulling up a chair from another table and offering it to Angie. I returned to looking at the bartender who kept throwing glares her way. “Damn she’s good.”
“She’ll have her heartbroken one day.” He snapped bitterly and went to wipe up some glasses. Feeling self conscience about sitting on the stool alone I squinted at the bottles behind the bar, trying to read every single word on each label, distracting myself. I had a cigarette to myself and when the itch of tiredness made me want to go up to the room and flop onto the candyfloss bed I remembered who was in charge of the key. I peeped over my shoulder and Angie was soaking up most of the men’s attention, making the women there agitated and jealous looking. There was no way on earth that I was going to stumble up to her and ask for the key, I was no way that brave.
Instead I ordered some water hoping it would clear my head. The bartender pulled a face at me but went and got me it. “What a lovely friend you’ve got.” He said slamming the ice cold glass in front of me. “Ditches you for someone better straight away.”
“What a bitter mind you’ve got,” I replied just as coolly, “getting seriously envious over a girl you met only this evening.” He stormed off again leaving me alone once more.
A little while later someone clomped up behind me and put a load of emptied glasses on the bar top in front of me. Angie! “Hey, can I have the key?” I asked eagerly.
She spoke over the top of me, “guess-guess what.” She slurred.
“What?” I twirled to face her.
“J-Just going to the loo and then-then I’m going to his roooom!” She giggled and tapped my shoulder. “Hey! That rhymes! I should-should join his band. Anyway,” she shrugged, “gunna go and sh-shag him.”
She went to walk past me but I grabbed her wrist, “please Angie, can you give me the key to the room?”
“I left it with me bag,” she gestured over her shoulder to the table. “I’ll get it for-for you when I’m back.” She patted my cheek and then staggered towards the ladies toilets. Sighing I rested my cheek in my hand as I lent on the bar. I was desperately tired and getting crankier by the minute.
A man cleared his throat and lent against the bar, he wore brown trousers and a white half unbuttoned shirt. Jack Flash. “Pleased to meet you,” he said in his London accent, “hope you guess my name.” He didn’t have a stupid posh accent yet he was no Cockney either. He was just a Londoner.
“Hmm?” I refused to return the smile. I was so annoyed that I couldn’t go to bed, I was just so exhausted.
“Jack Flash.” He stuck his hand out, I just stared at it. Awkwardly he retrieved his hand. The bartender asked if he wanted something and he shook his head. “No thanks.” He kept his eyes on my face and rather than cute or whatever I just found it rude and irritating.
“What do you want if you didn’t come up here to get a drink?” I asked abruptly.
“I heard your friend-”
“Angie,” I interrupted because if he was going to sleep with her then he could at least have the decency to remember her name. Despite the fact she was probably one in a long –continuous- list of many. “Her name is Angie.”
“Yeah, Angie. Well, I heard her talking to you and you asked for the keys. They’re in her bag right?” He placed Angie’s handbag on the bar in front of me. “Thought I’d better not rummage through.”
“Good thinking.” I snapped taking the keys out of the bag and holding them too tightly in my hand. His blue eyes were wide, he was astounded that I was talking to him this way. He was probably so used to having girls simper over him and offer him everything. “Is that everything?”
“I-uh-you-” In his shock he stuttered over words.
Sliding off of the stool I handed him back her bag. “She’ll probably want that.”
He held it, face completely astounded at the scene playing out before him. He opened his mouth to speak when Angie stumbled on over and snuggled up to his side. He didn’t attempt to hold her. “You’ve got the-the key then?” She nodded at my hand.
“Yep,” I replied briskly, “I’m going to bed, Angie be quiet when you come back in. Remember to wear a condom.” I aimed that last bit at him, narrowing my eyes slightly which took him even more off guard. Swinging my bag over my shoulder I stormed off towards the heavenly soft and comforting bed of sleep. Vain rock stars assuming everyone was going to kiss their arse.