By Kali
"Owww...bloody hell Kals, stop kicking me!" LC moaned, pulling a pillow over her head to block out the bright moonlight coming through the window.
I mumbled my apologies and turned my back to her, unable to get comfortable in a room far too warm and far too strange for any level of comfort whatsoever. I can't wait til we go on tour.
"Will you shut the hell up?" Gaby groaned from her bed. I heard her shuffle to the far side as I myself moved to the edge of the bed and hung one of my legs out from under the sheet and into the cool air.
"Fucking hell!" Red yelled from the other room, as muffled groans made their way through the walls.
"Holy shit!" I sat straight up and threw back the sheets, running to Red's bed. Any sound of sexual activity and I'm the first one to leap out of bed. Figures. The two of us sat there giggling as Gaby repeatedly told us "shut the hell up before I come in there....then you'll be sorry" and Jess slept away while Jules looked at us with her head in her hands, her elbows propped up by a pillow, rolling her eyes.
LC eventually made her way over, figuring since her and Red were on the same time they could maybe slip off later to get some sleep and be one another's alibi. "So did you have any luck, L?" Red and I asked.
"SHUT UP!!" Gaby hissed, shuffling her sheets again.
"Sorry..." I whispered, creeping over to the door and closing it lightly. Jules watched and listened quietly so as not to disturb Jess. At least someone will be well rested for the "audition", even if she is the bass player.
"Well..." L whispered, glancing at Jules who nodded to show she could hear. "...we went to this place called The 303. It was actually really cool, a club. And we met this guy...Cris, who's in a band and stuff. And he's gonna try to get us a gig there cos he knows the owners or something...but I mean, he'll probably forget."
"Well he better not, we need some fucking comfortable beds. I swear. My blanket is made of wool." Red complained, scratching her arm and pushing her blanket away.
L shook her head at Red. "So what did you guys do? Anything?"
"Well....me and Jules got hit on by some 15 year old guys. That was amusing for a while. We played football in the park with them as well...drunk. Which was also amusing." Red smirked as Jules smiled. "I dunno where Kals was."
LC looked at me and I blushed and she knew something was up. She gave me the "we'll talk later" face. "Well do we have a gig of any sort? Where did you guys go?" she asked.
"We went to this place called.....um.....fuck..." Red rubbed her temples.
"Arc" Jules whispered.
"Right, The Arc. And talked to this huge fat arsehole. Well Kals more or less did. I prefered to stay out til he insulted my cultural background. Then I just had to tell him to get rooted." Red looked set to ramble on for hours.
"Yeah, he said we have to go there tommorrow at two with our gear and sort of audition. Just to make sure we can play intruments, I guess." I explained.
"Oh, okay. Well, right then." L nodded. "We got a gig. Sort of." She smiled, looking at the three of us.
At around 12 in the afternoon we all woke, rain gently pattering on the big plate glass window.
"Well, we're a fucking shagged-out bunch." LC commented, looking around at the disheveled group of musicians we'd assembled in an hour.
Each of us had eyes like nickel slots - except Jess, that is - and we all stood there, sulking with our heads down, staring at our shoes, dreading having to go play for some old man who doesnt give a crap about our music anyway.
"Well, off we go, then." I waved the group out the door to the van we'd hired to transport us and our gear to the club.
I heard a clanking as Gaby's flight case rolled its way down the stairs like a tire, Red laughing uncontrollably and clutching her guitar case to her chest while Gaby cursed and kicked the wall, eventually making her way down the stairs to pick up the case. "You've all got your fucking guitar cases...and you and your mic stand. But me, I've got this fucking drum kit to lug around" Gaby muttered, loading her snare into the van. LC and Mel hoisted a Marshall in and moved some shit around so we could fit it all and ourselves. Last to go in was my guitar case, tossed on top of Gaby's drums and Jess's bass, wedged between LC's monitor and Red's amp.
By the time we were done loading everything up it was 1:50. We had exactly ten minutes to get to the Arc or be forever damned to wander the streets of London begging for airfare to get back home.
We made it at 2:05 and told the guy some bullshit story about being hassled outside the club. It took us another forty five minutes to unload everything, as the fat bastard just sat there by the door watching us walk back and forth, lugging all our gear.
We were almost ready. I plugged in my lead, LC adjusted her mic stand, Gaby tightened a cymbal.
"Right, play then." He sat down at one of the empty tables in front of us with a helping of greasy fish and chips and two pints in front of him, stuffing his face greedily as we played through a cover of The Clash's "London Calling" and song we'd been working on called "Six Degrees".
I didn't really know what to do, I was tired and jet lagged and really quite nervous, even though I knew the guy didn't give a fuck about us. I was proud of LC though, who was singing and acting in such a way that if there had been an audience there, all the boys would have been in love with her in a second. I played what I was supposed to play, strumming away, up down, up down, my thumb vibrating as my plectrum scraped against the strings, my knuckles turning white from holding onto it so hard in my nervousness. I managed to hide in the shadows, where I could watch but not be watched.
Jules stood on the side of the stage, tapping her feet and taking the occasional snap with her camera. "You never know, this could be history." she'd say, with a grin.
Not that the stage was that big anyway. I was hiding near my amp, hoping and praying that nothing would interfere with the pickups, and Red was just a few inches away, strumming away on her vintage paisely strat. LC was in the middle, poised in front of the mic stand, gripping the mic with one hand, the stand with the other, as she belted out lyrics. Next to her was Jess, head down, eyes focused on the strings, playing away, and behind all of us was Gaby, going at it on her drum kit. We didn't have any fancy stage lights or any good looking boys watching us, or even a nice view of the streets of London at night or the lively inside of the club itself. Instead we were staring at the rain through dingy, streaked plate glass windows blocked mostly by boards of painted wood as a lonely, grumpy club owner ate his greasy fish and chips and drank his two pints and generally didn't give a crap about us in general.
We stopped playing and looked at him, waiting for him to kick us out.
"Alright, you're playing on the 23rd." He said, getting up and wiping his greasy hands on his pants, walking to the back room, shutting a door. A few moments later the door opened again. "Bye. Don't be late. We open at 7 on Tuesdays. Fuck off." The door shut again.
Gaby kicked a drum and a cymbal tumbled down, crashing onto the floor.
"Well then." Jess sighed, unplugging her lead and setting her bass down in its case.
As we strode back into the hotel a woman at the desk asked for Kali.
"I'm her" I replied, walking over to the desk.
The woman handed me a slip of paper with a note scribbled on it. "He called for you earlier, that's the message he gave us." she explained, then went back to her work at a filing cabinet.
Paul said he would meet me at the front gate at 5:30, he'd be wearing black trousers and a green kangol hat. I slipped the note into my pocket and wandered back to the room.
"So who's up for Knebworth, then?" LC asked, going through her suitcase to find a suitable outfit.
I watched her. "Dude, we need to go shopping." I remarked, thinking about my own meager wardrobe I'd brought along with me from America.
Gaby was already in bed with a pair of headphones on, ready to sleep, while Jess and Jules had run off to god knows where.
"Well, I'm coming." Red said, walking into our room in the same outfit she'd worn all day.
"Aren't you changing?" LC and I, the fashion police, asked, staring at her. She shrugged and pushed a stray hair out of the way.
We arrived at the field two hours later, it was now 5. And we sat in traffic for another 20 mins, which was great for the taxi driver. As we strode up to the main gate I saw Paul wave, and began veering to my right as LC and Red drifted the other way.
"Hey, Kals, this way!" LC yelled, waving her hands.
I ran over to her. "I'm going with someone...he's got a ticket for me." I smiled apologetically. I really felt bad leaving them out there, but then again I really wanted to be alone with Paul, and knowing those two they'd just tease me all night. I watched LC and Red wander into the crowd of people looking for ticket scalpers, and eventually turned to walk over to Paul.
"Hey!" he smiled, checking out my combat boots, vintage cord trousers and weathered oasis tee. I gave him a hug, glad to be with someone other than the girls for a night.
He'd gotten a good spot on the line waiting to get in, so we wound up center mid-field with a pretty good view of the stage. People all around me were constantly holding up plastic cups filled to the top with beer in salute as they played video clips of Oasis over the two large screens on either side of the stage. Paul and I had our own beers, but rather than joining in the salute, we chatted away in our own little world as the sun began to set over the field.
The support band started playing, I was suprised at how good they were. Their lead singer had a great voice and the entire band was playing really great, catchy rock songs. I think on a couple of songs the vocals must have been messed up though, I had no idea what he was singing at all. We were all dancing and grooving away though, when the lead singer said their next song would be their last, and would we please buy their record, they were called Kula Shaker. I didn't see a problem with his request.
In the meantime, as we waited for Oasis to come out, Paul and I messed about, laughing, telling jokes, singing, flirting, dancing.
"Here" Paul giggled, plonking his hat down on my head. "It suits you."
I pulled it down over my eyes and spread my legs apart, swaggering in the little space I had, waving what was left of my beer around. The guys around me laughed and clapped, one shouted "Give it up for the Liamette, eh?" as Paul blushed and giggled at my impression.
More and more people kept "sharing" their beer with me and I could feel myself slipping away into a bit of a drunken state. Oasis were on and we were all jumping and singing, having a great time. For "Live Forever" Paul had hoisted me up on his shoulders and was now passing me a spliff, which I sucked on for a bit before passing it on to the next. The smile on my face was not going to leave for quite some time.
As Oasis were finishing up, we made the trek to the back of the field hand in hand and found a nice spot on a small hill to sit and get some fresh air. I laid back on the grass, giggling for no reason as Paul gazed at me, smiling. We sat there for a long time, just watching the sunset and chattering away about nothing in particular.
"You're sweet." I giggled, tugging at his hat.
"Yeah...." he blushed, leaning over me on an elbow. I started giggling again, prompting him to take his hat off and shove it over my face, only making me laugh harder. He tickled my stomach, and my giggles become high pitched, as I started kicking my legs in the air and trying to stop laughing so that my face would stop hurting.
I heard Liam's voice echo in the background - "where were you while we were getting high?" - as I finally settled down and caught my breath. Paul was still leaning over me, his hat sitting loosely on top of his head, one hand pressed against the side of his face, the other curled into a fist held tightly against his chest. I looked into his eyes for a minute and he stared back at me, his lips pursing as he looked at me, swallowing hard. As he leaned over I felt his breath on my lips as he hesitated, not moving either of his hands for fear of rejection. I gently placed my hand on the back of his neck, pulling him closer to me as he carefully slid his hand under my back. He gently parted my lips, kissing across my cheek and down to my neck. I closed my eyes and felt the cool air on my face, listened to Noel's guitar solo echoing through the night, gently stroking the back of Paul's neck. I didn't understand how just a kiss could mean so much, maybe it was the alcohol or the drugs that were making me feel the way I was, but I was in ecstasy. Paul, the music, the night, everything was perfect. We laid there in the grass kissing until a young Man City fan stumbled over us and spilled his beer, telling us to go "the fook 'ome, the gigs over!".
Back at the hotel I laid in bed thinking about Paul, hoping I wouldn't end up with the tell-tale signs of a "make out session" on my neck so that I could avoid the teasing that comes with it, and wondering when we'd see one another again. We were moving into the house in Kilburn tommorrow and I promised I'd call him when I had the chance to let him know our address and phone number.