You, Me and Us.

by Liam Hurley

  If only Erin could see me, it would show her that she’d made a big mistake letting me go. Well fuck her, it’s her own fault.

  The waitress eventually appeared again in front of me with my pizza in her hands. She placed it down in front of me and smiled again. Before I could come up with my next move she’d turned on her heels and walked back towards the bar. I knew her game, she was playing hard to get. Tut, what stupid games we play. In the months to come when we were happy together we would look back on this first meeting and laugh at our flirtatious chess game.

  I looked down at my pizza and dived in. The warm cheese ran down my fingers as I shoved each slice into my mouth, stopping only to take a momentary breath or beer break. I could feel my chest begin to burn as I swallowed bite after bite of warm Italian dough. It hurt but it was so good I didn’t care.

  I mopped up the last slice a mere three minutes after my first bite. I sat back in my chair and wiped the sweat from my brow. As I did this I noticed the waitress was leant against the bar and her eyes flicked my way as I’d moved backwards. I smiled at her and she returned it. The barman behind her raised his eyebrows at me, he’d noticed our back and forth, that’s right buddy, I thought, this is happening. I looked back to the waitress who was still looking my way. This filled me with confidence. If you look away from a girl for a moment and then when you look back she hasn’t looked away yet, then it’s a scientific fact that you’re in.

  I decided to play it cocky and act like I was looking away once more, just to catch her staring my way again. I took a long deliberate look down at my beer and slowly grasped it. I snapped my head up quickly to try and catch her still gazing at me. Instead of looking at me though she was looking at the barman. She shoved her fingers towards her open mouth, miming that she was trying to throw up, and nodded her head towards me.

  I looked away and took a deep swig from my beer. My face burned red and shame rose up from my stomach.

  I drank the rest of the day away in different bars around the city centre. One of the great things about living in this wonderful city is that you are never more than ten feet from alcohol. And I needed it that day.

  The shame was being washed away from me with every gulp and swallow. I'd paid my bill and left the restaurant without looking back. I knew there and then I'd never go back. I was shuddering with embarrassment every time I thought about what had happened. The drinks however made it duller and rather than a deep red shame rising inside me I felt a soft pink. As I went from bar to bar I made sure I could walk in a straight line. As much as I felt like shit the last thing I wanted to do was get so drunk that I couldn't perform. I thought about the gig as I drained my fourth rum and coke of the day in some bland chain pub. I racked my brain to try and place some importance to the evening but all I felt was emptiness. No fear or nerves. Just empty.

  At six o’clock I finished my final drink and left the bar I'd been in for the past hour. I was late, but I didn’t care. As I walked outside I was hit with a huge splatter of rain and a gust of wind. The warm weather from earlier had turned. I cursed myself for not bringing a coat and started to lightly jog through town to my destination. The gig was at The Grass Lounge. An intimate tiki-bar on the edge of the Northern Quarter. We'd gigged there previously and as far as I could remember we’d enjoyed the small space and floor-level stage as it gave our audience interaction a more personal touch.

  I turned a corner, tried not to slip in a small puddle, and pushed myself through the double doors of the bar. My eyes adjusted to the darkness around me and I noticed the main room was pretty full. I looked around and recognised quite a few faces. Propping up the bar were 2 girls who sang as a double act called The Twins, (an ironic name as one of them is 6-foot-tall and black and the other is barely 5 foot and Thai), in the stage area tuning up were a four-piece called Johnny Two Eggs and The Keys, and sat around a table were a rap group we'd gigged with a good few times called Arthur's Revenge. I nodded at anyone who looked up as I entered. I quickly marched past them all and headed for the changing room. As soon as my head appeared from behind the door Ryan's voice boomed out at me.

  "Where the fuck’ve you been?"

  "Sorry I got held up after work."

  "We're on second you know and we've missed our tech run. I've been texting you."

  None of this was new information as I'd been both reading and ignoring his messages all day. However, I did feign surprise.

  "Shit, really? Sorry my phone’s been fucking up that's where I've been."

  "Fucking hell mate could you not have used Facebook or Twitter or even Erin's phone?"

  My heart panged at the sound of Erin’s name.

  "Sorry." I repeated.

  I sat down and silence filled the space between us both. I looked down to the floor and Ryan began to tune his guitar. I hadn't forgotten to tell them, it was a conscious decision. I'd told Joe out of necessity, but telling everyone else was beyond me at that stage. Saying it out loud would just bring home the fact it was true. To paraphrase an old proverb, if a couple break up and no one finds out is it really over? Yes. Yes, is the answer. But at that time, I couldn't see the wood for the giant trees crashing down on top of me.

  As I sat there trying to dispel the crushing feeling encompassing me, Tom entered.

  "Ah you're here!" He said.

  I looked up and nodded at him. My throat also seemed to have been crushed.

  "Right." He started looking at us both. "I've spoke to the promoter and he said four songs is fine."

  I looked up. Last I’d heard we had fifteen minutes, plenty of time. Tom saw the expression on my face.

  "They've had a drop out and they need to fill some time, but we agreed we didn't want to play anything we hadn't rehearsed."

  I nodded.

  "So, we're going with Bang Bang, then onto the Pokémon theme, Jim can you fit some chat in at the start? I said we can do that to fill a bit?"

  I coughed to try and clear my throat. I'd forgotten all about the set list.

  "Yeah I can. But there's an issue."

  "What?" Ryan said.

  I looked at them both and tried to think of the right words. I waggled my tongue from side to side.

  "Erm I can't sing Bang Bang."

  "What? Why not?"

  "I just can't, we'll have to do something else."

  They both looked at me, bemused. I was racking my brain trying to think of an excuse.

  "We have to, it's our opener! It’s your song!" Ryan said.

  It wasn’t mine, not anymore.

  "I know but... I have a sore throat and I can't hit some of the high notes."

  "There aren't any high notes in it really. There's more in Never Forget."

  I looked around the room and tried to find the right words. I tried to tell them but somehow when I was opened my mouth I couldn't do it. It was like a tiny wall had been built in front of my tongue to stop the words from getting out.

  "I can't sing it, that's it." I said. "Let's just do something's else, Oasis or something."

  "But we just said, we can't play something we haven’t rehearsed!" Ryan said.

  I went to reply but Tom cut me off.

  "If he says he can't sing it then he can't. We'll do Little by Little."

  "It's not upbeat enough. Come on we've got agents out there we need to be on it, come on Jim, just do it."

  "Can't." I whispered.

  "For fucks sake, I'm getting a drink."

  Ryan stormed from the room and slammed the door behind him. Tom and I were left in silence for a moment. I was so grateful to him but couldn't bring myself to tell him why. I just smiled at him.

  "Everything okay?" He asked.

  "Good mate yeah, just my throat."

  "You sure?"

  "Sure."

  I didn't leave the changing room at all as we heard the bar start to fill up. I could hear the buzz from the crowd as more and more people began to fill the small room outside the door. Ryan and Tom kept popping in and out to se
e friends and family who'd come by to support. The other bands also came in, they began to get changed and warm up. I stayed fixed to the chair.

  Eventually the speaker connected to the mic from the stage spluttered to life in the changing room. The noise of the feedback squeaking broke me from my brooding.

  "Hello everyone and welcome to the fourth annual Manchester New Music Competition." the promoter paused for a small applause and a few 'whoops'. "Tonight, we have four great acts playing all different types of music. I hope we have an eclectic audience." More cheers. "So, without further ado please welcome your first act, Stockport's own, Arthur's Revenge!"

  A generous cheer and applause went up as the group pulled open the dressing room door and strode onto the stage. A few shouts of 'good luck' came from the dressing room as the door closed behind them.

  Ryan and Tom pulled some chairs to either side of me. All three of us looked up to the speaker as we heard Sean, the lead, introduce the band and launch into an original piece. They were good. Obviously wildly different from us. But good nonetheless.

  "Haven't you got jeans with you?" Ryan said with a pull at my rain-soaked jogging bottoms.

  I shook my head.

  "Did you wear them to work?" Tom asked.

  I panicked for a second thinking my lie was about to unravel. But almost as soon as the panic set in a new lie was forming at my lips. It was worrisome how easy it was getting.

  "No, I had jeans on at work but I ripped them, slipped on a wet spot."

  "Fucks sake." Ryan muttered.

  Arthur’s Revenge barely sounded like they were changing songs. It was just a constant beat for fifteen minutes. It was good but seemed to all be at the same level. I knew if we were at our best we could do better than that. You’d think this thought would inspire me and drive me on to perform at my best but again I just felt empty.

  We heard the applause rise and fall as they left the stage. They pushed the changing room door open to be greeted by smiles and pats on the back as they took their seats at the back of the room. They’d performed exactly to the right level other bands would want them to. Good enough to show us the audience was lively but not so good that they’d taken up all the energy in the room. Once Arthur’s Revenge had sat down it was our cue to stand and prepare.

  We all shared handshakes and nods as we lined up at the door. I was stood at the back of the group ready to walk on stage last as per my usual routine. I jumped on the spot and tried to jolt some blood around my system.

  “A big hand for Arthur’s Revenge everyone.” Came the compere’s voice over the speaker. “And next up we have a great group from right here in Manchester.” Louder cheers. “Please welcome to the stage, Who’s That Band.”

  The crowd came alive as we were announced. Ryan and Tom had really come through in getting people in who knew us or had seen us before. It seemed like more than half the audience were there to see us. I reached my hand onto my arm but couldn’t find the usual goose bumps or hairs stood on their ends. Tom slid behind the keys and Ryan marched towards the right of the stage and his mic. I looked around the room and saw a few recognizable faces in the audience. I scanned the strange faces and tried to guess which ones were agents or reviewers. It was dark, very dark, too dark to make out any faces.

  I found myself at the front of the stage once the applause and cheers died away. I looked across the crowd. I realised at that point that Erin wasn’t there. I mean, I knew she wouldn’t be, but this was the first time that she’d not been in the audience for one of our gigs in months. I stared opened-mouthed at everyone. Even seeing Charlie here would’ve been a relief. Time seemed to stand still as I looked out at everyone, the noise had died away and it was almost silent in the bar. A few people let out a nervous laugh here and there as I made eye contact with them. The silence eventually became deafening to me and I noticed there wasn’t any music starting behind me. I then remembered that I was supposed to do a bit of talking at the start.

  I grabbed the microphone and opened my mouth. For the second time today, it felt like a tiny wall had been erected in my mouth. I looked around again and found myself staring at a couple stood on the front row. That’s where Erin should be. My throat closed up at this thought. I couldn’t bring myself to chat to anyone so instead I closed my eyes and croaked into the microphone;

  “This one’s Little by Little.” I said.

  I turned around to the guys and waved my hands at them to start playing. Ryan kicked his guitar in to life whilst keeping his eyes and frown on me. Tom came in a second later with some light keys. I turned back to the audience and waited for my cue.

  “We the people fight for your acceptance.” I started. Shit, I don’t think that was right. “We don’t claim to be perfect but it’s true.”

  Fuck fuck fuck. I was forgetting the lyrics. I could see people’s brows tighten on the front row. They were noticing. I was fucking it up.

  “We dreamed some dreams, alone without resistance.”

  Better, bit better I thought, let’s just relax.

  “Faded on the stars we used to be.”

  I breathed a bit deeper for the first time since I’d got on stage. My mind was still racing.

  “You know we didn’t mean, what we just did. But I just woke up on the wrong side of my bed.”

  Shit, shit, it’s ‘God’. I tried to stay calm, it was time for the chorus now. I could make it. I closed my eyes and tried to sing from my heart.

  I managed to squeeze through the first part of the chorus successfully enough that I let my eyes open.

  I saw a short girl whisper something to the guy next to her, he was bending over to hear. They both laughed.

  “And Little by Little, the wills of your life have slowly fallen off.”

  I stopped singing. The guys carried on playing but I moved back from the microphone. The couple in front of me were still whispering. I was panicking now and the entire room was looking at me. I’d missed my next cue, some of the audience were singing for me. Ryan was shouting something at me over the music. I didn’t care. The whispers, the seat, Charlie, the audience, Tom, the music, Ryan, the lights, my joggers, the pizza, the waitress, Erin. It was all too much, it was spiralling out of control.

  I shoved the microphone back into the stand and turned around. I mouthed ‘sorry’ at Ryan and Tom and bounded from the stage. I took a left as I came off, and avoided the changing room door. I headed for the fire exit. I shoved it open and felt the wind hit my face. The music hadn’t even stopped playing by the time the door closed. And the door hadn’t even closed by the time I was half away across the carpark, storming into the darkness.

  Chapter Twelve- New World

  I spent the next few weeks going from the bar downstairs to half-heartedly pour drinks, to walking back upstairs and pouring drinks with and for my whole heart. I’d come up with a great life hack, when the delivery driver brought cases for Ronnie’s. If he delivered eighteen bottles of vodka I’d update our stock take with maybe sixteen and sneak to other two upstairs. I eased my conscience by telling myself I was owed it in lieu of pay for all the extra work I was doing.

  This was my new life. I’d become resigned to it now. I wasn’t even that unhappy about it at the time it just was what it was. I drank the day away and then tried my best to keep upright behind the bar in the evenings. I’d done well to pull the wool over Joe’s eyes. I think he was glad I was working every night now, if anything I was reliable. My life was a constant fog. I avoided any sort of contact with my old life, I’d left that behind to become a glorious failure.

  I was okay with the failure. I’d learnt to accept that fact that I’d lost all the things I’d loved, I understood it wasn’t because of some giant error on my part. And nobody else was to blame either. It was simply that I was unworthy, better suited to the life I was living now. Years from now I’d stand at the bar holding up a drink, whilst a generation of new drinkers would call me a legend and buy me shots. That would be my legacy. Maybe I’d te
ll them the story one night, maybe not.

  I’d moved on now, and that’s why I’d barely spoken to Tom or Ryan since the gig. That night I came back to the flat and felt shame and adrenaline all at once. I was panicking for a while, long into the morning. But as the days passed I became placid and eventually I managed to send them both a message. I’d been half drunk at the time and it took me about forty-five minutes to compose what in the end was a very short and simple message.