Remix

by Non Pratt

  Reality hadn’t measured up to expectation.

  “It wasn’t great for me either.” My mouth twisted with misery at his words. “Look at me.” His eyes were wide and serious, but his lips tugged into a small smile. “But it’s just bad sex. That’s all. Nothing to worry about.”

  “I don’t want it to be bad.” And I couldn’t stop myself from crying. I felt like such a child. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be like on the Internet or in films.

  “Listen. I’ve had some great sex. And some rubbish sex. And some so-so sex.”

  “All right, you tart,” I muttered, not sure how I felt about him saying this.

  “I am a tart.” He smiled at my expression. “So I know what I’m talking about. Great sex isn’t something magical. It’s a skill you learn, not a talent you’re born with. Why d’you think I needed so much practice?”

  It was a joke, but it crushed me. “So it’s me?”

  Stu frowned. “Don’t be an idiot. It takes two to tango.”

  “Why is our tango so shit, then?” My turn for a rubbish joke.

  He shrugged, looking thoughtful before he leaned closer. “So I’ve slept with a ton of people – you know my number – and I’ve just told you I’ve had great sex with some of them …”

  Honestly, it felt like the worst pep talk ever.

  “… but there has been no one who does this to me.”

  And he kissed me, softly, just lip-to-lip, a little kiss. And then another. And another. I reached out and ran my hand down his arm, shoulder to wrist, only lightly, but the result was electric and I felt Stu’s breath rush out before he kissed me again. Once. Twice.

  “Sex just needs a bit of practice. That?” And I knew what he meant. “That shit you can’t learn. You’ve either got it or you haven’t.”

  I kissed him on the cheek and felt him sigh – a happy sigh.

  “And we have that?” I said.

  Stu’s eyes searched mine. “Our first tango was a flop, but everything else is off-the-scoreboard-awesome.”

  And he kissed me again, harder, sending my nerves into overdrive as I kissed him back. By the time we stopped, it was turning dark outside and his dad and stepmum would be home soon. We were still clothed. Still sitting propped against the bath.

  And we got better with practice. A lot of it.

  That was the truth of what I had with Stu – the sting in the tail when he cheated. Everyone else might think they know what we had, but they don’t.

  Not that we have it any more.

  What I have now is a photo of him kissing another girl, reminding me that my ex only knows how to be the kind of boyfriend that’s for sharesies.

  I’m not someone who likes to share the people I most want to be with.

  24 • CAVALRY

  KAZ

  The timer on my phone is two minutes from going off and a live show of Sebastian’s smile is preferable to the horrific symphony of thoughts surrounding Tom. I decide to risk it.

  “Why don’t we check out the Unsigned Stage?” Ruby and Lauren look equally nonplussed. “The band I saw earlier were surprisingly good,” I lie.

  I know that all I’d need to do to convince the pair of them would be to tell them I said I’d meet a cute new boy, but I couldn’t cope with how they’d respond to each other’s reactions. This relative harmony post-Gold’ntone wouldn’t survive an aggressive compliment-off.

  Besides, I just think Sebastian seemed nice. It’s not a declaration of marriage.

  In the end, it’s the size of the crowd gathered outside that does the convincing. Neither Ruby nor Lauren object as I plough forwards, spreading apologies in my wake until I stop exactly where the X was and Ruby walks into me, her nose mashing into my back.

  “Ow,” she snaps.

  I ignore her. Ruby does not feel pain like a normal human. Instead I look down at my feet. Although the X has long since been scuffed over, I know I’m in precisely the right spot.

  “Looks like the band’s coming on soon.” Lauren reaches for the timetable and reads out the name. “SkyFires.”

  Where is he?

  The stage goes as dark as possible at five-thirty in the height of summer and I turn to look out over the hushed crowd. Still no sign of him. A note is struck on the keyboard, a gently building tremble of sound that reaches out across the air, gathering strength when it’s joined by an electric guitar.

  Ruby nudges me just as a man’s voice lifts up to join the rest of the sounds flowing from the speakers.

  “Turn around.”

  I do as she says and my eyes go straight to the mic as the singer steps into the spotlight.

  RUBY

  This guy’s presence is phenomenal. His voice… I let it sink into me and it’s like the sound is speaking to my soul.

  Beside me I feel Kaz blossom in the light from the stage. Like me, she’s lost in the sensation of sound. Even Lauren, who never seems to shut up, has been stunned into the same silence as the rest of the crowd, held captive by a boy who can’t be any older than Lee, who is not handsome, is not cool, but who is undeniably talented. We watch, listen, feel right to the last note of the first song before erupting into applause. I’m clapping so hard my skin stings and I’m screaming my support as if I’m the only person he can hear.

  KAZ

  The person onstage, the one whose voice has stolen every heart in here, is Sebastian. The boy I thought I was meeting is not one who stands in crowds, but one who stands on a stage. And it’s a stage he owns.

  “Hi. So we’re SkyFires” – there’s a swell of cheers and screams – “and this is our first festival.”

  Ruby wolf-whistles and Sebastian glances this way. He’s wearing different clothes from before, but his glasses are the same – and his tousled hair. I wonder whether it feels as soft as it looks.

  “This next one is about knowing what it means to escape.”

  Sebastian is a mesmerizing front man. Everything from the expressions he wears to the way he touches the mic with the tips of his fingers before throwing his arms wide and powering out the chorus draws the audience in. The rush of emotion has me smiling, eyes bright as I listen to him, my body tensed up on tiptoes, tilting towards him, straining to see him. His vocals give way to the guitar and he steps back from the mic before glancing this way.

  Is he looking at me?

  Don’t be stupid, Kaz.

  But he drew a cross on the ground…

  And then he smiles and I know he’s looking at me. Ruby’s so immersed in the music that she’s closed her eyes, whereas mine can barely keep away from the singer for more than a second.

  “He’s cute,” Lauren whispers and I assume she must mean Sebastian, until she adds, “I never usually like the drummers.”

  Unlike Ruby, who loves a drummer.

  I like a singer.

  Or rather, I like this singer. When I look back, Sebastian’s still looking at me and I can’t help but smile. He ducks his head and rubs the back of his neck as the song draws to a close.

  “So, how are we doing, guys? God, I’m shit at this frontman business,” he says and everyone laughs. “I wrote a script and everything.”

  “He did,” says the tall boy at the keyboard, surprising me because it seems as if Sebastian is the only person who should be onstage. “It was awful.”

  Everyone laughs again.

  Sebastian takes control once more. “Maybe we should play another song?”

  From next to me emerges a piercingly loud shout. “Yeah, you should!”

  Sebastian glances this way, but this time it’s not at me, but Ruby, who’s smiling up at him, with her flirty, cheeky smile that has hooked every boy she’s ever tried it on.

  “Small person, big voice.” He grins. “I guess I can identify with that.”

  And the band erupts into sound. Ruby turns to me, eyes sparkling with excitement.

  “I can’t believe he actually spoke to me!”

  I want to tell her that I’ve
spoken to him too, that the reason we came here was … what? So I could fail to flirt with him? Or successfully flirt then fail to follow through?

  Because I tried. I really did try to think about kissing Sebastian and all I ended up with was Tom. As if thinking about Sebastian is cheating on Tom, even though he’s the one with the new girlfriend and I’m the free agent.

  RUBY

  When the set draws to a close, Kaz suggests we stay right where we are. Since I’m already prepped to try and sneak backstage to tell the band how amazing they are, staying put seems like a massive anti-climax. Although Lauren points out my chances of successfully clambering over the barrier aren’t all that great and for once I can’t disagree with her. The crowd shifts and thins as we look for signs of activity beyond the front of the stage. Most of it’s panelled off, but you can see a few people moving around, setting up and sorting things out.

  “So they were—” I start to say, but Lauren finishes for me: “Special.”

  Again, I find it hard to disagree. I don’t like it.

  “Yes,” Kaz says, quietly. “That last track was…”

  But there are no words to describe the enormity and the intimacy of their closing song. After today, I can’t imagine how SkyFires won’t become mega-huge famous rock stars. I’m so in love with their sound that I’m ready to tattoo their name across my heart.

  “Hey.” We turn to see the singer leaning on the barrier, looking in our direction. I glance over my shoulder, but it seems he really is talking to us. “So, what did you make of the show?”

  “Amazing.” The word leaps out of my mouth before I can stop it, but he’s looking at Kaz, who’s just nodding, slowly.

  “Out of ten?” he asks, which seems very bold.

  “Nine,” Kaz says, smiling at a point somewhere below his left nipple. “I’m marking it down a point for being too short.”

  Which is an excellent line. I’m proud of her. Although I wish she’d look up. She’ll give the boy a complex.

  “Sebastian,” he says and reaches out a hand only for Lauren to be the first to snatch it.

  “Lauren,” she says. “And this is Kaz.” There is a delightfully rude pause before she adds, “And Ruby.”

  At least she got my name right.

  Sebastian isn’t at all what I expected him to be. He’s sweaty, for a start, which is hardly surprising, and he’s changed out of the tight trousers and checked shirt he wore so well onstage, replacing them with tracksuit bottoms and a threadbare long-sleeved top that makes him look more like a prospector than a singer in a band. Those ugly-but-cool glasses he’s wearing are performing a function, not a vanity, and close-to his face is lively, full of character, but it hasn’t got the beauty it had from a distance. Until he smiles at something Kaz says, and it transforms him once more.

  For the last year, Tom’s beefy outdoorsy-ness cast a shadow over Kaz’s thing for boys who look like they prefer reading to rugby, but there was a time when she admitted to crushing on Callum – gross. This beautiful-on-the-inside boy has more than a whiff of the sensitive intellectual about him and I wonder if he’s exactly what the Gods of Wounded Egos have ordered for my best friend…

  “What are you three doing now?” he asks.

  Kaz glances her question at Lauren, then me and I try to think of something witty.

  “Er…” Brain fail.

  Sebastian smiles at all three of us, although it’s Kaz he directs the question to. “Do you fancy hanging out backstage with us?”

  25 • BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU ASK FOR

  KAZ

  Backstage everything looks the same, only every element is suffused with a certain magic – a glamour in both senses of the word. The sun seems brighter, the people cleaner, the laughter louder. Flipping the lanyard over, I read the words guest pass – skyfires to reassure myself. Sebastian gave Lauren and me one each with Ruby picking the short straw and risking a broken wristband that she’s pinned back together. Not that anyone here seems to care one way or the other. The only security I can see are driving quad bikes of people more important (or more lazy) than us through the crowds, and everyone else is too busy to worry about what anyone else is doing. We pass a group of girls consulting the schedule as one of them pulls out her phone. “I’m setting an alarm for eight forty-five. No way am I missing Gold’ntone.”

  When I look at my own phone, I’m dismayed at how little time that means we’ll have with Sebastian.

  Catching myself thinking this feels odd. It’s been so long since I had a crush on anyone other than Tom that I’m not even sure that’s what this is. Do I fancy him? Or do I just really like him?

  It could be both…

  Sebastian leads us to a table, where I recognize the other members of his band. He introduces everyone: Nick the drummer and Ferris, who I think was the tall keyboard player, and Eve, the bassist. Apparently their guitarist has gone for a nap in the back of their van.

  “He always does that,” Sebastian says to me. “Don’t take it personally. Now, let me get this right.” Sebastian points to Ruby first. “This is Ruby and Lauren. And this is Kaz.”

  My cheeks flush at the glance that Nick and Ferris exchange, but there’s no time for awkwardness as Sebastian pulls over some spare chairs. Ruby sits down and shows no compunction in asking Nick if one of the beers is going spare. Something Lauren doesn’t look too happy about.

  “Drink?” Sebastian asks.

  “Is there any water?” I can only see beer.

  “I’ll get you some.” And he stands to leave. My dismay must show, because he asks if I want to go with him.

  Which I do.

  “So. Er…” I walk with him to the bar, hoping to strike flirtatious gold.

  “How’s your day been?” Sebastian asks.

  “Nice.” I’m useless at this.

  “That’s a very vague word.”

  “I know. Sorry.” The queue for the bar here is tiny compared to the arena – only two-people deep.

  “Why say sorry?” Sebastian smiles into my eyes. “Vague is permitted.”

  “OK. How about your day?”

  “Mostly fine, escalating to exquisitely nerve-wracking.”

  I can imagine why. “You didn’t need to be nervous – that set was amazing. You were amazing.” And then because this sounds a bit over the top, I panic and add, “Your band were amazing.”

  “Don’t let them know you called them ‘my’ band,” Sebastian says in a whisper that’s quiet enough for him to lean in.

  “Well, SkyFires are amazing, then.”

  “Oh, I know that.” His somewhat goofy grin dilutes the arrogance of the statement. “I’m not a fan of fake modesty. I like the music we make – we can draw in a good crowd and we’ve interest from someone who wants to manage us. We play to bigger crowds in our hometown than here.” Sebastian glances at me and then away, shuffling forwards towards the bar. “That wasn’t what I was nervous about.”

  Performing here would still make me nervous, but… “What were you nervous about, then?”

  “Just a girl I met.”

  “Oh,” I say, disappointed.

  But Sebastian ducks his head, forcing me to meet his eyes. “That girl is you.”

  “Oh.” This time I do not sound evenly faintly disappointed. “Now you’ve made me nervous.”

  His laugh is uncomplicated and happy. “You’ve no need to be. I’m not after anything sinister, just your company.”

  “Really?”

  Sebastian nods. “So far I’m enjoying it a lot.”

  And even though I’m smiling mostly at the grass between his feet, when I glance up, he’s looking at me as if that really is what he wants from me.

  “Water?” he asks and I nod.

  I definitely have a crush.

  RUBY

  I’m tired of having Lauren cock-block me every time I try to talk to Drummer Boy Nick. Really fucking irritating when all I want to do is find out more about Sebastian ON KAZ’S BEHALF. Also, really fucking p
ointless. Lauren’s a one-focus kind of girl, so she hasn’t noticed that Nick and Eve are totally a couple. One of those really relaxed ones that are so comfortable in their togetherness that they don’t need to advertise it beyond the familiarity of a hand-touch here or a secret smile there.

  When I say I’m going to the loo, Lauren shuffles in closer to Nick and I smile at Eve, who winks at me. I guess if you’re in a band with your boyfriend you get used to it.

  The toilets here have had a lot less use than the ones in the main arena. They’re like the ones down by the main stage: Portakabins complete with sinks, although these ones have functioning soap dispensers and actual toilet roll. There are a couple of girls in there, talking about having to take a picture to go with their write-up of the afternoon’s gossip. The one with the plumage of a tropical bird plaited into her hair accosts me at the sink, accusing my outfit of being totally grunge-punk chic and cooing over my arm – “Is it real?” – not waiting for an answer as she loops an arm around me and hauls me outside, asking if she can take a photo.

  Before I can really decide whether I want that, the deed is done and Feather Head’s friend/colleague, whose necklace looks like a pterodactyl clinging to the cliff-face of her collarbone, is asking me whether I’m eighteen.

  Given that I’m planning on heading barwards at some point, I sneer slightly and say, “Thanks a lot!” as if I’m massively insulted that she’d even ask.

  Necklace Girl holds the phone steady as she asks, “What’s your name, how old are you and do you mind if we post your picture as part of the festival fashion piece for Gozzip Magazine?”