To pass the time until I had to start working I began to flick through the pages of my notebook. Billie spun around in her chair and looked at me from the side
"Can I see?"
She had been open to me about her music so it was only fair I showed my notebook even if I disliked giving it away. I bit my lip and handed it over hesitantly.
She studied the last entry.
"I'm trying to work on a storyboard," I explained. "It's just ideas. Camera angles, movement, composition and all that."
"Is that for a video too?"
"No, I make short films and stuff. I started out with photography and kind of moved over into cinematography. When I'm not stuck working on a video for the venue of course."
I paused before asking, "You direct some of your music videos, don't you? They're amazing."
"Thanks." She looked proud. "I think I'd want to direct if I wasn't singing."
Billie slowed in going through my notebook and I hoped she did not stumble upon some kind of embarrassing to-do-list.
After the interview I knew that she was a lot different than I had thought. I would have never expected us to have common interests.
"So..." Billie looked up, "you're a sound technician, handle a YouTube channel and shoot films in your free time. Tell me more about yourself, Mara."
"I'm not really 'shooting' anything," I clarified. "It's just amateur level. What do you want to know?"
"How old are you?"
"Nineteen."
"How long have you been doing this internship?"
"Since graduating earlier this summer. I just needed something to get my parents off my back. I'm kind of taking a break to figure out what to do with my life."
"And? What are you going to do with your life?"
I let out a frustrated groan. "Good question."
"No ideas?" Billie studied me while I shifted in my seat uncomfortably. The topic was a sore point for me.
"Too fucking many. I can't decide whether I want to study and go to the more technical side or focus on filming. It doesn't help that my mum wants me to be an artist and my dad, well, he thinks I'm going into the company just because I agreed to do the internship."
I pointed at the logo on the soundboard and Billie tilted her head to read it. "Jager?"
"Jäger," I corrected the pronunciation. "It's my dad's company"
"That's your last name? I've seen this all over and Finneas won't shut up about it. They makes speakers and stuff, right?"
"Yeah, all kinds of tech. That's what the venue is for. My dad bought this old factory when he was young and really into British rock. He just stacked it with the most top of the line shit. 'Jäger' it the German word for 'hunter'. That's why he called the venue Hunted Hall and not 'haunted' with an 'a'."
"Hold on," she reached out in surprise, touching my arm, "does that mean you're German? Your accent's pretty convincing."
"I went to school here for a few years but I grew up in Hamburg. I just moved here again two months ago when I had finished school and started the internship."
I let out a sarcastic snort. "You know, maybe I don't know what the fuck I want but I do know that I needed to move out of my mum's. It's nice to be somewhere nobody knows you."
"Right. Can't relate." Billie chuckled at her own joke.
"Don't worry, it can get lonely too."
I was taken aback by my own honesty. Perhaps it was easier for me to open up to strangers, knowing I would never see them again after one weekend. "I miss my friends."
"Me too." Billie sounded sad.
I felt guilty for killing the mood but it was true that I missed my friends. No matter how much I loved London it was quite lonely here for me.
A sudden loud cheer from the crowd distracted me. I quickly grabbed my headphones as the band entered the stage.
They started to play and I began to work. From the corner of my eye I saw Billie leisurely spinning her chair as I controlled light changes and monitored the sound.
While watching me in silence she traced her upper teeth slowly with her tongue. I almost missed turning off the artist's mike as he decided to do a dance intermezzo during the drum solo of the second song.
"Can you stop looking at me? It's distracting me."
"Huh? I'm not doing anything."
She was right. It was not her fault something about her made me feel unfocused. I could not place the irritating feeling. I only knew it could not be intentional on her part.
"I know." I adjusted my headphones and avoided to look at her. "You're just distracting"
There was no reply but I could see Billie smirking at the edge of my vision when she looked at the stage.
For not being intentional she look at tad too satisfied.
We watched about half of the opening act's performance before Billie got up. "I guess I better go now."
I nodded, half of my concentration on the band.
She stopped in the door to turn around once more, pointing a finger at me. "I can't have you fuck up my show, Mara. You better not get distracted by me again."
She actually had the audacity to wink at me while saying 'distracted'.
I opened my mouth to say something or maybe out of sheer surprise but she was gone before I remembered how to close it.
What does that even mean?
Two colleagues joined me in the sound booth and at 9 p.m. sharp the show began.
There were no words to describe it.
I jumped through every possible feeling in my emotional range. I grinned at Billie interacting with the fans and Finneas loosing himself in the music. I bobbed my head to the beat when she made the crowd jump and the venue shake.
If I had let myself forget about my job I might have cried even.
In the end the fans would not let her leave before she agreed to one last song.
She performed 'Bitches broken hearts' and, to be honest, I might have gotten slightly distracted too.
~
With the last light change Finneas and Billie disappeared in darkness. The main lights turned on and the fans cheered for a few more minutes.
My colleagues left the booth and the crowd slowly began to flow towards the exits as well. I shut down the computers and rubbed my eyes, tired from the long day. I could not wait to get on my bike and go home to my cat.
It was past midnight by the time I had all my things packed up. I grabbed my backpack and felt the pockets of my pants: keys, wallet, everything was there. My phone had died an hour ago so I had just tossed it into the backpack.
I picked up my helmet and the old bomber jacket. It was only a short ride and I did not bother with my real gear. If my mum knew I had copied that bad habit from my dad they would probably file for divorce a second time.
After leaving the control booth I said goodbye to the security staff who would be the last to leave the Hunted Hall. I made my way backstage towards the lift. My motorcycle was in the underground car park.
The doors of the lift started to close at the end of the hallway and I had to sprint the last meters to squeeze my hand between them just in time.
The lift opened again to reveal a tall brawny man who moved aside, allowing me to step in. Behind the man, leaning against the back wall, was Billie.
She had her hood up, headphones on and her eyes closed. Her foot was tapping along nervously to a beat only she heard. She looked tired in the harsh light of the lift. Performing must be very draining.
I looked away to face the door while asking myself where Finneas and the rest of her family were. It was obvious that she did not want to be spoken to so I stayed quiet as the lift started to move down.
I felt knackered too and was craving to be alone. The last days leading up to a show-weekend where always stressful.
The lights flickered.
BANG!
Everything happened at once: the lights died, a loud metallic echo was followed by a short and painful screech, the lift jerked to a halt.
I tumbled against a solid body in the dark. My eyes were wide open but it was pitch-black.
A small voice asked, "What was that?"
"I think the elevator broke down." The answer boomed from somewhere above my head.
No shit, I thought but said instead, "The emergency light is broken."
A screen lit up and illuminated the lift. Billie turned on the flashlight of her phone. The blue light gave the scene an eerie feeling.
"Do they work?" The man examined the buttons on the wall. They were still giving off a dim light that induced a bit of hope.
I put down the helmet I still held in my hand before stepping next to the man. He tried out a button. The doors slid open, more slowly than usually.
"Shit!" I cursed.
Only the doors of the lift had opened. We had apparently reached the correct storey but the floor doors where still closed, trapping us.
"It must be a blackout. It's the only thing I can think of causing this. There's protocol for this but nothing's bloody working." I slammed my fist against the doors. "Some massive idiot didn't hook up all doors to the backup power and the light's broken too. What a cock-up!"
My right fist closed again to make my scar ache. This was my father's venue. I felt responsible.
"Ey mate, can you help me with the doors? Maybe together we can pry them open."
The man came over and we both tried to force our fingers in the small slit between the doors. I gave up after breaking a nail and took a few breaths to calm myself. I did not react well to feeling corned.
"Guys?" Billie broke her silence. "Can you turn on your phones? It's still kinda dark."
"Mine is in the car," hissed the man through is teeth, still attempting to force the doors open. He must be a driver. "I only came up to get you."
"Mara?"
I was preoccupied with starting to get nervous in the closed space. The prospect of having no exit, no way to leave made me claustrophobic.
Is there an emergency telephone? Think, there must be a way out. Think!
I gave Billie and her driver an apologetic look. "I'm really sorry this is happening when you're here of all things. Honestly, it's kind of embarrassing and I'm gonna talk to my fath–"
"Mara!" Billie interrupted, louder this time. "Can you get your phone?"
I turned away and began to take a closer look at the buttons on the wall. "My phone's dead."
"What?" This time her voice was very quiet.
I found a button that looked promising. Behind me the driver started to breathe more heavily.
Take it easy, dude. Those doors aren't going to give in.
The emergency telephone button did nothing and I tried to make a plan in my head. If I open the casing I can find a way to connect the phone to the battery backup unit and call for help. Wait, that's stupid. Billie has a phone we can use. First the light, though. I need to fix it else we'll soon have neither help nor a light source.
I could not think clearly. That breathing was starting to irritate me.
I spun around and snapped, "Can you maybe bre–"
I stopped mid-sentence. The driver was breathing just fine. However, he was looking rather concerned at Billie. She had leaned her head against the wall, her eyes screwed shut.
"Billie?" The man asked. "Can you hear me?"
There was no reaction and that scared me. With two quick steps I was in front of her.
Her hair was still messy from performing when I carefully pushed back the hood to see her face. "Hey, are you ok?"
"Yeah." She opened her eyes and swallowed dryly. "I mean no, not really."
"What is it?"
"Uh..." Her voice was trembling and she swallowed again. "Yo Hank, do you have my inhaler."
"Shit!" The driver, Hank, said in a guilty tone. "It's in the car too."
"Fuck!"
"Wait, what's happening?"
"Fuuuuck..." Billie groaned again before sitting on the floor, slouching over and trying to hide her pained expression from us. She was bouncing her leg again, more furiously this time and without any music.
"What is it?" I asked once more because I suddenly had a very terrible feeling.
"My phone is on four percent, I'm having an asthma attack and–" she laughed shakily, fighting for air– "I'm stuck in a fucking elevator."
Shit. Shit. Shit.
_______________________________________
crash - EDEN
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