by Beth Garrod
And it was working.
Because slowly, one by one, each member of The Session stopped playing.
Until all that was left was Brian struggling to sing his way through a song with the music grinding to a halt.
And eventually, even the most stubborn man in the world had to stop. He gathered his bandmates and brought them to the front of the stage.
Was he finally going to apologize?
He picked up the mic.
“Well then. Guess there’s only one thing for it.” Whistles went up. He took a deep breath in, and sighed. “I would like to say The Session are massively sorry.” Finally he got a roar of approval. He smiled. “FOR EVER COMING TO THIS GODAWFUL FESTIVAL. BIGGEST MISTAKE OF OUR LIVES.” He grabbed his guitar. “SO SEE YOU LATER, LOSERS. AND WHEN YOU GO TO SLEEP IN YOUR CRAPPY HOMES, WITH YOUR CRAPPY LIVES, JUST REMEMBER WE’LL BE ON A PRIVATE JET NOT GIVING A CRAP WHAT YOU THINK.”
And with that the band stormed off.
And even though the stage was empty, it got the biggest cheer of the festival so far.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-THREE
The stage lights swept over the crowd, like these people were the real stars. Total strangers were hugging each other and dancing in circles. It was awesome. But as much as I wanted to see what happened next, I wanted to see Adam more. My work here was done.
PE teachers yelling at me.
The last bus home about to leave.
Being chased by a strangely aggressive cat.
All things that hadn’t ever motivated me enough to run.
But the thought of getting to see Adam in action unleashed a whole new Olympic sprinting side to me. I positively hurdled a group of people who were having a power nap on the ground. But it was worth it. Because by the time I got to the entrance to the New Bands Tent he was still on stage, playing the song they always finished with. A really fast, really loud love song – “Chicken Nugget Blues”.
My heart almost popped with happiness at how huge their crowd was. And how much they were loving them. I even spotted corn on the cob man crowd-surfing.
Marcus was strutting away like he always did, secretly/not-so-secretly thinking everyone loved him. And Adam. Adam was doing what he always did on stage – eyes closed, arms flying around, putting everything he had into his drumming.
I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I’d never seen him look happier. Or fitter. He was doing exactly what he wanted to do, and I loved it.
Shame I’d messed stuff up so badly that he was still only my boyfriend on a technicality. As heart-breaking as it was, I knew I was just waiting for him to tell me it was over.
My tears returned. And standing alone in the crowd, this time I let them roll down my face.
A boy next to me totally judged me for getting emotional about a song about chicken nuggets.
I wish I had the others here to see this with me. And like some telepathic friendlepathy, my phone buzzed with a message from them.
A selfie of them pulling sad faces.
RACH: Tommy K were going to get on stage to replace The Session. YAY. But half the band’s gone missing. NOT YAY.
She sent another picture of her biting her nails in fear.
RACH: People are naaaaat taking it well?!
TEGAN: Aka a near riot.
But there was only one thing I could message back with. With adrenalin rushing through me so hard that my fingers were shaking, I sent back six words:
ME: I think I have a plan.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-FOUR
It was bold.
It was almost impossible to pull off.
And it probably wouldn’t work.
But after the weekend I’d had, why should that stop me?
I needed to get backstage. Now. And I knew just how to do it.
And minutes later, just as I asked, Jay met me by the helter-skelter to help. Throwing caution – and hygiene – to the wind, we did it. Which is why a tall rugby-playing man ended up wearing a quite short person’s leggings and a stripy top, and I ended up in an oversized lobster costume that smelt as bad as the bag of spare gym kit at school. Jay was genuinely excited when I found an uneaten, if not heavily flattened, falafel ball in one of the feet.
“Remember, Bells. Do what I did. Head back, claws up. Confidence and no one will stop you.” Jay gave me a big hug, and wished me good luck as I waddled towards the gate. I swear he looked weirdly emotional and muttered something about “the apprentice becoming the master”.
But I had to focus. And get the sight of Jay in such tight trousers out of my mind. Channelling the most confident lobster I know (obvs Sebastian from The Little Mermaid) I scuttled towards the gate.
And it worked like a dream. Without checking any passes, I was backstage.
But now what?! I could hear Marcus singing “Dip dip dip dip, mayonnaise dip dip dip”, so knew I only had half a song left before they finished.
I looked around for where to go, where to stand. And that’s when I saw her. Ruby from The Tomato Ketchup Conspiracy Theory. She was even more cool in real life. A high-res fittie. She had no idea I was gawping at her as she typed into her phone, watching the backstage monitor of The Wet Donald Project. Next to her was the guitarist, and they were both tapping their feet along; Ruby even filmed a bit of the screen. Were they Wet Donald fans?
Without waiting to think of all the reasons I was about to embarrass myself, I strode over.
“Excuse me?”
Ruby turned round. I think it’s fair to say she didn’t expect to see a lobster so close to her. “Are you Ruby?”
She nodded. “Yup. Are you –” she looked me up and down “– a crab?”
“Sort of. Some people call me Bella, but I answer to Acrab too.” OMG, she laughed at my mum joke. OMG, I was meeting one of my idols dressed as a lobster.
But something about having pincers flapping around my face made me feel so uncool that I felt braver than normal. Forget wearing power lipstick, oversized crustacean costumes were turning out to be my ultimate confidence boost.
But what could I say next? Luckily Wet Donald had started playing an encore of “Various Things Are the Best”, buying me more time. It was one of my favourites, as Adam had written it about an amazing Saturday we once had, where we ended up guests of honour at an OAPs’ boules tournament ’cos we helped them chase away a swan that kept stealing their biscuits.
I smiled to myself, not sure if the memory made me happy, or if it made me sad because there might not be any more.
“You all right?” Ruby was looking at me, concerned. As in, Ruby was now making conversation with me. “Been a bit of a long day?”
“Could say that.” I sounded more philosophical than I meant. I had to do what I’d come here for. “Look, this is a long shot, as in super ridiculously long, but … were you about to step in for the main stage slot?”
She nodded. “Wow, news travels fast.”
“Us lobsters slash crabs are well connected.” I tried to click a pincer dramatically, but it just flicked me in the face. “So, er, what exactly is stopping you?”
She nodded towards the guitarist, who was on the phone. “We’re a bassist and drummer down. They were last seen heading into the adult ball pit two hours ago.”
“There’s a ball pit?!” Why was I only finding this out now?! “Although –” focus, Bella “– you can tell me about that later. What I need to know now are two things.”
She looked at me, intrigued. “Go on.”
“One. Would you be up for help from some other people?”
She cocked her head to one side. “And two?”
“What would you say if I said I knew those people playing now –” I pointed at the monitor “ – would be totally up for playing?”
“I’d say…” she thought. “Is this a hidden-camera show? Are you going to turn out to be Declan Donnelly or something?”
I knew it was too ridiculous for her to say yes to. But it’d been worth a tr
y.
“And I’d say … no. Sadly not. I’m a person who’s just had the most ridiculous weekend of her life. I’ve been rescued from a Portaloo, got called a slug on the internet – think you might have posted a video of me dancing in a bin bag?” Ruby’s eyes widened.
“That was you?”
“Uh-huh. I’ve also taken life advice from a corn on the cob, been sent aubergine emojis by my own mother –” Ruby gasped “– yes, I know, and been trolled by a man named Brian. So, that’s why I’m asking you. Because I have nothing else to lose.”
But Ruby had a quizzical look in her eye.
“Brian from The Session.”
“Uh-huh.”
“You’re not …” She clicked her fingers, as if trying to click information into place. “… one of the girls who started the protest?”
I didn’t know how to answer, suddenly less sure if this was going to a good place or not. But Ruby hadn’t finished.
“The Stop The Session protest that just got The Session dropped by their label?”
“Whoa.” My giveaway gasp came out before I could stop it. This was HUGE?!
Ruby laughed. “I’m guessing from that reaction that your answer was yes, you were one of the people behind it. In which case my answer is also yes.”
“To what?” The shock news about The Session had made me forget what I’d asked.
“To whatever you want?!” she laughed. And with Wet Donald coming to the end of the song. I explained the plan. The crowd wanted one final headline act and needed a band. And quickly. But the band needed musicians. And I knew Adam and his band knew the songs. So if Tommy K were up for figuring it out with them, maybe there was a way it could work.
And after a quick chat with her guitarist, I got the answer I’d hoped for.
They were up for giving it a go.
So now all I had to do was tell Adam.
But what if he wasn’t ready to speak to me?
CHAPTER
THIRTY-FIVE
Ruby walked me up the metal steps to the side of the stage. The first few rows of the crowd were all jumping in time like a big wave of people. And right in front of me was Adam. Drumming. Sweaty. Happy. But I was terrified. I hadn’t spoken to him since he’d stormed off.
And now here I was, dressed as a lobster, about to ambush him with the lead singer of his favourite band. Ruby, with her perfect bob, amazing make-up, and one-off hand-stitched bodysuit, was the hottest person at the festival. Full 10/10. And I, in this three-day-old lobster sweatsuit, was physically the hottest person at the festival. There was nowhere on my body I wasn’t sweating out of.
To distract myself I pulled my camera out of one of the claws and took a couple of close-up pictures of Adam in action as he played the last song. And more as the band walked to the front to the stage and with hands raised, clapped the people who had come to see them. They looked like proper rock stars. And even better when they group-hugged, overwhelmed by how well it had gone.
The crowd had loved it, and the cheers didn’t die down for ages.
I waited for the right time to try to get Adam’s attention as he headed back to his drums. But with time running out, and him in no hurry to leave the stage, I realized the right time would never happen. It was now or never.
Feeling like I might pass out, I took a deep breath and yelled his name.
As soon as he looked up and realized it was me, the smile that had been plastered on his face disappeared.
Well, this felt great.
But I couldn’t give up. I shouted his name again.
“Not now,” he mouthed. But he wasn’t cross. He looked upset.
“Tommy K want to you play on stage with them!!!” I yelled as loud as I could, trying to point at Ruby. But he couldn’t hear me or see her. And he was clearly in no hurry to speak to me either. There was only one thing for it. I edged on to the stage, trying to pretend the whole crowd couldn’t see a dishevelled lobster stage invading, and put my pincers to my mouth. I yelled with everything I had.
“I’M SORRY ABOUT EVERYTHING. BUT I’M NOT HERE TO TALK ABOUT THAT.” It was fair to say he looked alarmed. But I had to carry on – for him. “YOU MIGHT BE NEEDED ON THE MAIN STAGE NOW TO PLAY WITH THE TOMATO KETCHUP CONSPIRACY THEORY.” I was making my mouth shapes extra big to help him understand. But he just looked scared. Panicking, I leant back and tugged on Ruby’s top. She stepped nearer to me, and into view of Adam. His face fell in shock as I pointed manically at her.
And even though things were rubbish between us, and even though none of this made sense, he walked towards me. Yes. I had a chance of making the plan work.
But what to say first?
I needed to explain the emergency situation – but I also wanted to say sorry.
I wanted him to be on stage with Tommy K, but I also wanted him to know I’d been an idiot not just telling the girls they’d got everything wrong in the first place.
I wanted him to know that him being happy was my priority – but my biggest hope was that he could be happy with me.
And now he was in front of me waiting for me to explain what I was doing.
The crowd by the barrier were peering to see why the drummer had walked off to talk to girl in a shellfish suit.
I had no idea what to say.
He was looking me dead in the eye.
I had to say something. And I had to focus on what was important for right now.
Put his chance to play a headline gig on the main stage before me wanting to sort us out.
With my heart racing, I leant towards him. I had to keep unemotional, just tell him the facts. But without my consent my pincers threw themselves around him. And before I knew it I was pushing my face into his neck. And before I could stop them, five words fell out of my mouth.
“I’m sorry. I love you.”
Woah.
Had I just verbal-hiccupped the most significant words of my life?!
I jumped back. I don’t know who looked more shocked. Me or Adam.
The crowd cheered. Could I take this coincidence as a good sign?
A less good sign was that Adam hadn’t said anything.
I didn’t know much about love, but one person saying it and the other staring at them silently didn’t seem like a classic “it’s going well” omen.
He lifted his finger to his lips.
Was he shushing me?!
I’m pretty sure out of all the articles I’d ever read in preparation of declaring love, not one gave me advice on being shushed! But then none suggested doing it looking – or smelling – like I did right now.
Ruby tapped me on the shoulder. “You do know he’s wearing a clip mic?”
“I don’t know what that means…” It dawned on me. “Unless it means thousands of people just heard what I said because it came out on those ginormous speakers?”
Adam slow nodded, his nose scrunched in awkward, I-was-trying-to-tell-you embarrassment.
“They heard that too.” Ruby was trying not to giggle. “I’ll get them to turn it off.”
So that’s why he was shushing me. I would have said thanks if I wasn’t dealing with every bit of my dignity slowly dying, as at least thirty people chanted, “She loves you, she loves you.”
I waited for Ruby to get off the crew’s walkie-talkie, wondering if it was true that what didn’t kill you made you stronger, or just meant you’d die of shame an hour later alone in a tent?
But time was ticking and when she nodded in my direction, I jumped in to finish what I’d just started – my words spilling out.
“Sorry about that, but it was my only secret left. You said you wanted honesty. So there it was. I’ve already sorted out the stuff with those girls. Promise. Not that it’s anyone business, but I told literally everyone who got the wrong end of the stick that I’m still a virgin.”
Ruby coughed. Adam pushed his hand over his eyes in semi-horror.
“They haven’t turned the mic down yet, have they?” The “Ooooooooo” fr
om the crowd gave me the answer I needed.
“Everyone heard that, didn’t they?”
Someone in the crowd shouted, “Yes, you nitwit.” (I was mildly impressed they went for “nitwit” and made a note to use it more myself.) Taking matters into her own hands, Ruby reached out and unclipped Adam’s mic, pulling the lead out of the transmitter.
“Seriously, you guys?!” She dangled the mic in front of us, laughing. “You’re OK to speak now.”
Adam looked totally star-struck. I took my chance to properly explain.
“Just listen for a sec. I’m sorry I’m here. I’m sorry I just ambushed you and, er … said what I said. And I’m sorry thousands of people heard it. But forget about all of that. Especially the last bit. Long story short, well not that short, but shorter, is the protest was amazing and we all sat down, and The Session stormed off, and now they’re dropped and they need a band for the main stage and are you and the others up for playing the main stage with Ruby? And are you up for doing it now?”
He put his hands up to his head. “Is this actually happening?”
Ruby put her hand on his back. “Yes it is.” She turned to his bandmates. “So if it’s a yes, we have a golf buggy waiting. And we need you ALL to get in it. So, are you in or not?”
CHAPTER
THIRTY-SIX
Adam wasn’t just good.
He was A. May. Zing.
I already knew he was something else, but he took the whole thing in his stride, like playing on a massive stage, with a massive band, to a massive crowd was NBD.
And having the gig start, stop, be on, then off, then back on again, meant the crowd were full of next-level energy.
They played everything. Tommy K songs, covers, even a couple of Wet Donald originals. Ruby sorted it so Rach, Tegan and I could watch the whole thing from the side of the stage, all the bands we’d been seeing all weekend milling around next to us, like we were part of their world, not imposters. From up on the stage we got a glimpse of what all the flags, banners and high-vis vests must have looked like, and it made me even more proud of what we’d done. Towards the end of the set Ruby escorted me down to the photography pit at the front of the stage to take some photos. It was like an actual dream.