by M. B. Feeney
I had been a fan of Cosmic Tush for almost five years, and three years previously, I’d managed to get to see them live. Shortly after that, the ‘cosmos’ – the collective name for the band’s fans - was flipped on its axis. Two of the members left as ‘active members’ to concentrate on other commitments. It came as a shock to most fans, but not much of a surprise. Personal lives and things going on outside the band were brought to the attention of the fans and many of them saw these other things as a negative; almost as if the band were betraying them. What the fuck ever, people needed to get over themselves.
“I recognise you from somewhere.” I glanced up and was trapped by Will’s light eyes as he stood opposite me, a tray of empty glasses on the bar next to him. Will Harvey was almost as famous within the ‘cosmos’. He was their tour manager, merch guy, and usually directed their videos too.
“I’m sure you say that to all the girls.” I grinned. “more of the same?” I indicated the empty glasses he’d placed on the bar.
“Please, with whiskey chasers.” With a smile, I pulled a bottle of Jameson’s off the optic and began pouring shots, knowing it was a band favourite without needing to ask if they had a preference. “You really do look familiar.” I could feel him looking at me while I worked. I placed the whiskey on the tray and began to pour the lager.
“Sure. In your line of work, you must meet hundreds of girls a week.” He cocked his head to one side. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I’m trying to picture you in bunny ears and whiskers.” My heart skipped about three beats, never mind just the one. “It is you isn’t it?”
Shit!
“Hi.” I couldn’t help but think back to my first Cosmic Tush shows....
Things had been going well. Me and my friend Gwen had planned a major road trip to catch as many of the shows as possible. We even traipsed over to France and The Netherlands and caught the shows there, seeing as we had splashed out on the European VIP ticket, The Rocket. We’d worked hard, could afford it, and got some fantastic gifts with it, so why not?
With our tickets, we got two meet and greets each; four in total as we were one another’s plus ones. We had no doubt that by the time we got to the restaurant where the band were hosting their “End of Tour Party”, they were a bit fed up of our faces, but we didn’t care. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and we were making the most of it.
For the ‘party’, we had decided, in our infinite wisdom, to dress up as our own take on the Playboy Bunny. Neither of us went the whole hog with our outfits. I wore black denim shorts with black woolly tights (it was December), my boots, and a black t-shirt with bunny ears and eyeliner whiskers. Gwen had the same ears and whiskers, but wore black leggings with navy knee high Converse.
The Rocket ‘party’ was a get together in a small restaurant near the venue with the band and a handful of fans. A bit of a buffet had been laid on, but everyone was mingling with the band just chatting or having their photos taken. Gwen and I had hung back a little, having a couple of shots and chatting to Mary, the band’s manager, who was keeping an ever-watchful eye on things. Eventually, Ed Abraham, the drummer, approached us and complemented our outfits. One by one, we had a quick chat with each of the guys, had photos taken, and then ate some food before the band left for their sound check.
Gwen and I had saved our final meet and greet for the last show of the tour - hence the costumes - so we stood in line and waited our turn. We managed to get Mary and Will to appear in our group photo along with us and the band. I’d managed to get myself between Preston and Will as I had wanted while Gwen was in the middle of an Ed and Sam sandwich. Both of us were grinning from ear to ear in the photo.
That night, the atmosphere was electric. The crowd may not have been at full capacity, but we absolutely smashed it, and on occasion drowned the band out with our singing along. When Will came on stage for his cameo during the first and only time they performed Stars in Europe, I honestly thought the roof was going to collapse.
When that show finished, there were tears, laughter and firm friendships. It was a week - or longer for some - to remember and had brought so many of us fans closer than we ever could have been speaking online alone. We had created memories that would never be forgotten together, and even if we lost contact, we’d always have those shows to look back on with pure happiness.
I was brought back to the present day by Will waving his hands in front of my face.
“Hey, you okay?” He asked.
“Sorry, I was miles away.”
“That was obvious.” Will smiled softly. “Weren’t you a big Preston fan back in the day?” I felt my face heat up at that question causing him to grin even wider. “Yeah, thought so. All the pretty ones seemed to be.”
“Hey, you’re in my pub. I can kick you out if I decide to.” I teased him in an attempt to distract him from what he was saying, ignoring him calling me pretty. It worked.
“Your pub? Awesome.” He eyed up the interior with a strange look on his face. “I’ll have to remember that for future reference.” He picked up the tray of drinks and went back to join the rest of the band, leaving me completely confused.
As I watched him and the others talking and laughing, I remembered slipping over on a wet floor in front of him and Preston as we left the venue once the after-show signing was over, causing them to laugh as they helped me back to my feet as if I were some random drunk chick; time to hide again. Rather than go outside, I went out into the back room that wasn’t open to the public during the week, and tried not to hyperventilate. The cool air was working its magic, until...
“Wow, this room is amazing!” Will had let himself behind the bar, and followed me through.
“Hey, get out of here. This area is for staff only.” I stood up to push him back out into the public bar, but he gently grabbed my wrists.
“Seriously, this place is beautiful.” He suddenly sounded very business-like. “I think it could work for a video.”
Wait...what? He let go of my wrists and began to walk around the room, mumbling to himself. I heard the words ‘location’, ‘perfect’, and ‘that was easy’ as he walked around the larger room.
“Will, can you please go back through to the other room. I need to be with the punters before they rob me blind.” Without a word, he walked straight past me and began talking to the band in fierce whispers. I simply stared at them before shaking my head as I began getting ready for shut down. The place was dead, it was late, and I still wasn’t over the shock of my favourite band being in my pub.
“Hey, can I add a bottle of whiskey to my bill and settle it?” Sam Hollis stood on the other side of the bar, a haunted look in his usually bright eyes.
“I’ll settle the tab, but the whiskey’s on me.” I told him, eliciting a small smile from him. I handed him his card and the bottle of Jameson.
“Thanks, this means a lot.”
“You look like you need it.” I was being honest, he looked ready to collapse in a heap. Had done for a while from the photos I had seen online since the breakup.
“You’re not wrong. Thanks.” He turned around and re-joined Mary and the rest of the guys. They all gave me a smile and a wave as they traipsed out of the pub. I finished up cleaning, took the tills into the office to cash up then trudged up the stairs to my flat to crash out.
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