The crowd is huge tonight and there are so many people squashed at the front of the stage which is why we decided to stay at the back, so that we can dance.
I texted Dylan earlier to see if he wanted to come down, but he replied saying he couldn’t because Crystal needed him – whatever, I’m having too much fun to care. Maybe I’ve realised that most of the friends you make in this industry are very short-lived and easily replaced...or maybe I’m just drunk.
‘This is our last song, but you guys have been fucking amazing! Our best crowd yet!’ Eddie yells into his microphone followed by a huge cheer from everyone in the room. He may well say that at every gig, but tonight I think he really means it. I have never seen such a big audience turn up to see them headline and I feel strangely proud of my boys. Having known them since before they were famous, it’s like watching your kids grow up well – or your Sims graduating without cheats.
‘Nurse Wilde, where are you?’ Eddie calls out, holding a hand over his eyes to shield himself from the bright spotlights as he examines the crowd.
‘Woo!’ I call out, hopefully not sounding as drunk as I feel.
Eddie looks over in my direction, but he’s just following the sound of the ‘woo’, I don’t think he can actually see me.
‘Nurse Wilde has been looking after me while my leg is broken. You should be able to spot her, because she should still be wearing her nurse’s cap.’
‘I am, I am,’ I call out, fully aware that he can’t hear a word I am saying.
‘If you see her, buy her a drink – I couldn’t have changed my jeans if it wasn’t for Naughty Nurse Wilde. This last song is for her.’
The band burst into one of their best-known songs to finish the gig.
I feel a tap on my shoulder and spin around to face the barman. He says something, but I can’t hear a word he is saying.
‘What?’ I shout, leaning over the bar to try and hear.
‘I said, these shots are for you.’ He pushes two little glasses overflowing with a bright-red liquid towards me. ‘I’m a big fan of the profession.’
‘Thank you!’ I shout, picking them up and pushing one into Carla’s hand.
Without saying a word, we knock back our drinks, perfectly in sync with each other. I am at that rather pleasant stage where you realise you are drunk and can therefore try to keep a lid on the stupid behaviour. It’s that point just after tipsy, but just before the stage Carla is at. I don’t think Carla can hold her drink as well as I can, despite having the exact same amount to drink as me. More and more of her photos are of the floor and every few minutes she throws her arms around me and tells me that she loves me. I laugh and tell her I love her too. I really hope we stay friends. I might even be able to convince the guys to let her come on the next tour with us.
After the gig, various people stop by the bar and say hello to me, Naughty Nurse Wilde as I am so lovingly being called, and a few people buy me a drink and ask me to tell the guys how wonderful they are. As the crowd clears out, a few people hang back hoping for a chance to meet the band, and I spot a few journalists hanging around waiting for the band to come out and do their interviews and what have you.
Eventually Eddie comes out, looking slightly worried.
‘I’ve had a call from the label, they have been trying to get in touch with Mick but he’s turned his phone off. I’ve got to give them a ring back once we’re all back at the hotel,’ he tells us, leaning close so that no one else can hear. I smile at him in an attempt to calm him down but he looks really worried. He hobbles over to the group of adoring fans waiting for him with a big smile on his face, he’s such a professional.
Luke, Mark and Ben walk out and Carla runs straight over to give Ben a big kiss. Luke is walking straight towards me. I try to look cool, but my face feels weird. The more normal I try to appear, the weirder it feels. I pick my drink up and suck on my straw in an attempt to force my face to do something normal, although it is probably the drink that is causing my problems.
‘Hello!’ I hiccup. ‘Great show!’
‘Thank you. Listen, I’ve told Eddie we’ll see them at the hotel later. I was hoping we could go now and have a chat.’
I look over at the rest of the band who are chatting to fans and journalists. ‘But don’t you have to...’
‘I’m gonna pose for a couple of photos, but then we can go. We really need to clear the air, Nic.’
‘OK, sure. Do what you gotta do.’
He walks off towards his band mates and I turn around to face my barman. ‘Can I get a vodka, please?’ I ask him.
‘Sure. On its own?’ he ask and he sounds rather surprised, probably because I haven’t drunk anything tonight that wasn’t a bright colour, or claiming to have something to do with a fruit.
‘On its own,’ I insist. ‘It’s medicinal.’
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The After-Party
After a short yet awkward walk to the hotel, I am currently sitting on a sofa that is twice the size of the bed in my flat, and my bed is a double. We are finally in the suite, but it wasn’t easy getting in because Luke didn’t know what name the room was reserved under. The boys have a selection of fake names which they use when booking hotels, just in case any Banders try to track them down. Back in my Bander days we would to do that all the time, just try our luck and call up every hotel in the city and ask if we could be put through to whoever we were looking for, and you know what? A lot of the time it worked. That’s why the smarter bands use fake names.
It took Luke several attempts at guessing, naming various characters from Family Guy and South Park, but when we finally worked out that there was a reservation in the name of Mr E Cartman, things moved much quicker. So here we are, me sitting in the middle of the giant sofa and Luke rifling through the mini-bar to fix himself a drink – a drink which he informs me is his first of the night, which is very unusual. Then again, he’s probably on something harder these days. He seems normal tonight though.
Luke climbs across the sofa, carefully clutching his drink, until he is next to me.
‘This is one big sofa,’ he laughs nervously.
‘It is.’ What else can I say?
‘So that guy...’
‘Charles?’
‘Charles. He’s your boyfriend now?’
‘Yes.’
‘Since?’
‘Since this morning,’ I tell him, honestly.
‘He asked you?’
‘He did.’
‘Right. I thought so, because last night you said...’
I wait for Luke to finish his sentence, but he doesn’t. We sit in silence for a few seconds.
‘If I had behaved differently last night, you might have said no to him.’
I’m not sure if that is a question or a statement.
‘Luke, I do really like him.’
‘Did you like me?’ he asks bluntly, knocking back the remainder of his strong-smelling drink in one go.
I place a hand on top of his and look at him, but he doesn’t meet my gaze.
‘I thought something might happen between us,’ he admits.
‘Oh, I’ll bet you did,’ I tease. Thankfully he laughs and I instantly feel at ease again.
‘This is weird, isn’t it?’ he says.
‘Just a bit.’
‘Can we go back to being good friends?’
‘I’d really like that,’ I reply, resting my head on his shoulder.
‘Good. Forget the weirdness, things can go back to normal. I think you’re sobering up, can I get you another drink?’
‘Oh, yes please.’
‘As soon as the lads get here, the party can start. I wonder how Mick is getting on.’
‘Mick,’ I say. ‘Mick is in my bad books. I want my damn clothes!’
‘You and your clothes,’ he laughs. ‘Well if you can’t get changed, then I won’t either. And I stink.’
‘The groupies won’t like that,’ I tell him.
‘Well tonig
ht I’m not really interested in the groupies, so it’s OK.’
Luke’s phone rings.
‘It’s Ed,’ he tells me before he answers. ‘Mate... Yeah, we’re in, bloody Mick nearly dropped us in it... We’ll tell him he’s fired, he doesn’t need to know we’re joking,’ he laughs down the phone. God, he looks gorgeous. He’s very typically good-looking, undeniably gorgeous in fact. You can tell he is a bit of a ladies’ man just by looking at him, he oozes charm. He’s definitely got the face for fame – I always say that about Dylan, too. He’s good-looking, but in a Robbie Williams sort of way. He’s got that rough and ready, bad-boy look. Charles... Charles is good-looking but in a plain sort of way. The first thing I noticed about him (after I’d calmed down) was how muscular he was, I’ll bet the girls go wild for that – I know I did. Luke is really skinny and Dylan, well, he doesn’t give a damn. He’s not skinny, he’s not fat and I don’t think he’ll ever care either way. It’s his don’t-give-a-damn attitude that attracts the women, I think.
‘They’re on their way, and with a shit-load of booze,’ Luke tells me once he has finished on the phone. ‘I’m going to go down and meet them, you OK up here?’
‘Of course.’
‘Here,’ Luke throws me his iPod and an interesting-looking cable. ‘Set up the music for when we get back, I’ve got a party playlist on there if you want to set that going.’
‘Yeah, I can handle that,’ I call after him. I examine the cable, and then the massive stereo. At the back of the stereo there are a lot of very similar-looking sockets… I have no idea what to do with this cable. I plug one end into the iPod, smiling with satisfaction at my victory. Well, half victory. There’s only one thing to do – call Jake.
‘Jake! You have to help me!’
‘What’s wrong?’ he asks, sounding concerned.
‘Oh, it’s nothing bad.’ I laugh, feeling guilty for worrying him. ‘I need IT support.’
‘I accept that when we are in the office it is my job to give you IT support, but you have me on standby 24/7.’
‘Aww, but you love me for it,’ I reply, knowing that he is only joking.
‘Go on, what’s up?’
‘I have an iPod, some random cable and a stereo. And I have to make them work.’
Jake laughs a little harder than I’d like. I am very tech-savvy with the things I care about, but things like this go way over my head.
‘Describe the back of the stereo to me, I’ll tell you which socket it goes in.’
‘Erm...’
‘What can you see?’
‘Lots of holes?’
More laughter.
‘OK, take a photo and text me it.’
Oh, modern technology, how I love you. It only takes me a matter of seconds to take a photo and send it to Jake. Instantly he knows where my cable needs to go, and directs me towards it.
‘That is one hell of a sound system. Where are you?’
‘Oh shit! I forgot to tell you, I’m in London.’
‘London?’ he asks. He sounds surprised, but not that surprised. This kind of thing happens a lot.
‘Yes, with Two For The Road. I’m at the hotel, it’s after-party time.’
‘I though you sounded a bit drunk. Will you be at work on Monday, young lady?’
‘Yes, boss.’
‘Before I hang up, is there anything else you haven’t told me?’ he jokes, but it reminds me that I do have something to tell him.
‘Oh! Charles is my boyfriend. I have a boyfriend.’
‘No way! Nicole Wilde, with a boyfriend. Congratulations, you technophobe.’
‘Thank you. Does it give you hope that you might find a girlfriend one day?’
Jake laughs because he knows I don’t mean this.
‘Right, I have to go. Tell Emily for me.’
‘I will, have fun tonight. But not too much, remember you have a boyfriend now, although he’s probably there isn’t he?’
‘Erm, no he’s not actually.’
‘Oh dear!’ He laughs at me again. ‘Behave.’
I hang up the phone a matter of seconds before the guys walk through the door, followed by Carla and a bunch of people I don’t know.
‘Look what I got,’ Luke holds up two bottles of champagne and I notice that Mark has another two. ‘Geezer behind the bar was a fan, he gave us these. I told him to come up when he finishes.’
Eddie eases himself onto the sofa next to me.
‘I’ve got to give the label a ring, we may not feel like drinking them after we hear what they have to say.’
‘Just do it, man. Get it out the way and we’ll get pissed afterwards,’ Luke tells him, but he is looking worried too. This is the band’s first proper headlining tour since they signed their record deal, so everything is riding on the success of this tour. The fact that someone at the label wants to speak to them now – it’s probably going to be really good news or really bad news.
‘Fuck it. I’m calling them,’ Eddie declares, and everyone quietens down to listen in. It’s hard to get an idea of what is being said because we can only hear Eddie’s side of the conversation. His voice and face are emotionless, and everything he says is completely devoid of clues.
‘OK, well thanks for calling us tonight, I’ll let the band know. Thank you. Bye.’
Eddie presses a few buttons on his phone and eventually he looks up, still with a blank expression.
‘Come on, spit it out,’ Luke insists.
‘It’s bad, isn’t? Just tell us, man,’ Mark adds after a few more seconds of silence. Everyone in the room is looking at Eddie, waiting for him to say something. Whether he’s singing on stage or standing in a room of people, he knows how to work a crowd.
‘Get that fucking champagne open,’ Eddie says before a huge grin spreads across his face, ‘because next year we are going on a fucking arena tour of Europe!’ he yells, no longer able to control his excitement. The rest of the band look on in amazement before erupting with happiness and the rest of the room quickly follow.
‘Mate, get on the phone to room service, we’re going to need more champagne,’ Luke says to a man I don’t know. ‘We really do have something to celebrate tonight.’
Eddie fidgets with one of the bottles we already have, shaking it vigorously.
‘Is that a good idea?’ I giggle.
‘Of course it fucking isn’t!’ he says, popping the cork and spraying champagne everywhere. Stuck on the sofa with Eddie, I scream – mainly with delight – as the champagne flows all over us. As the spray calms down, Eddie holds the bottle to his lips and starts necking the remaining contents. He doesn’t get far before he starts coughing, and passes the bottle onto someone else.
‘Wooo!’ he screams. ‘I am on top of the fucking world!’
I have never seen him so happy. The music starts playing, and despite not being able to move, Eddie dances – from the waist upwards anyway. Looking down at my white top, I realise that not only is it soaking wet, but it is also see-through and my bright-pink bra is on show for all to see. In fact, everything I am wearing is soaked in champagne. Bloody Mick. I can’t spend the night in these wet clothes, smelling like a boozed-up tramp (a rich boozed-up tramp, this stuff looks and tastes very expensive), but my clothes are locked on the bus. Why does this stuff always happen to me? Still, this is a celebration and I’m not letting anything get in the way.
A random person pushes a glass into my hand and we all toast the band.
I search for the bathroom, although I’m not entirely sure what I’m going to do when I get there that will help to dry my clothes. Maybe a towel? I laugh at myself and conclude that I am drunk enough to think I can towel-dry my clothes, but sober enough to laugh at it. At the rate I am drinking, that won’t last very long. Perhaps I should slow down.
I bump into Luke, who looks me up and down.
‘Hello!’ he says to my chest. ‘Nice bra.’
‘Oh God, don’t,’ I insist, folding my arms. ‘I can’t believe this
has happened, and when I don’t have anything to change into. Again.’
‘I’ve got a band hoodie if you’re interested?’
‘What band?’ I ask seriously. Luke grins and I realise that it will be his band.
‘I’m nothing but advertising space to you, am I?’ I joke.
‘Well, if you wanna keep that on, be my guest.’
I give in. ‘Give me the damn hoodie.’
He rummages around in his backpack and tosses the hoodie at me. I thank him, mainly because it’s not bright orange or enormous.
‘When you’re changed, meet me by the table, we’re doing celebratory shots.’
I continue my search for the bathroom and change my top. I feel better already, despite another makeshift dress.
I find Luke with Mark, Eddie and a few other people who are all introduced to me, but I don’t remember a single name. The glasses are being lined up with a variety of different liquids being poured into them.
‘It’s better you don’t know,’ Luke laughs, reading my mind. I am temporarily disorientated by a blinding flash of light. It’s Carla and her camera, and she is gone as fast as she appeared.
‘Right, come on then,’ Luke says to everyone sat at the table. ‘This one first.’
I hesitate.
‘Come on, Nicole, you can drink most of these guys under the table.’
‘Yeah, well, I’ve had one hell of a head-start,’ I insist, but everyone is looking at me so I reach for my glass. We’ll put this one down to peer pressure.
A few shots later, I feel much less aware of what is going on, but I keep drinking anyway. I feel great! Everything is coming together nicely and everyone is happy. Luke grabs my hand.
‘Come on, let’s dance.’
I have no idea what the song is – things are starting to get fuzzy – but I somehow manage to get onto my feet. It’s party time!
Chapter Thirty-Nine
The Aftermath
My hangover has hit me like a ton of bricks. I woke up on the huge sofa, so I guess I slept here...along with six other people, none of whom I know. I sit up slowly because my head is throbbing and I feel dizzy as hell. I must have gotten so drunk last night because I only remember up to a certain point, although I imagine this is for the best. Resting my head in my hands, I finally find the courage to open my eyes again and find myself looking down at my bare legs. Where the hell are my trousers? What was I even wearing last night? A skirt, I think. I remember the impromptu wet T-shirt competition, and changing into the hoodie which, thankfully, I am still wearing. I still have knickers on too, which is always a good sign.
How Not to Be Starstruck Page 17