by Danni Fall
He starts scrolling through his texts before giving up and starting the Audi again. "Sooner we're back, sooner the bollocking's over."
"I'm blaming you."
"Why didn't they call you?"
Simon's smug smile slips. "My mobile's in my jacket. In the studio."
"Oh, well done."
"How is that worst than you?"
"How is it better?"
"Just put your foot down!"
"That's a change of tune." Mark revs the engine. "Now get thinking of excuses."
Chapter 11
Simon
Will goes beetroot red when they walk into the studio.
"You had one instruction," he snaps as he bundles Mark into the recording booth.
"It's his fault!" Simon says. "He had his phone on silent!"
Mark scoffs. "He didn't even have his mobile phone with him!"
"You've got two minutes before we start recording," Will says, closing the recording booth door.
He retakes his seat by the engineer, muttering apologies and complaints. Simon opts to sit in the chair beside Zoe since she looks fractionally less annoyed. He checks his mobile and grimaces at how many calls he's missed.
"Bit late for that now, isn't it?" she says.
"I'm sorry. We-" His knee-jerk reaction is to lie about traffic, but Zoe's daring eyebrow makes him think better of it. "I'm sorry."
"It wasn't a total waste. We recorded our parts for both songs, we're basically done," she says.
"You've recorded Who Are Ya and the B side?"
"That's what I said."
"But I wasn't here to sing the B side guide."
"I sang it, to speed things up."
"Right." Simon blows out his breath. "You two are machines."
The compliment seems to pass Joe by. "Where did you go?"
"We just drove round Soho, we didn't go far," Simon says, stretching his legs out.
Joe glances down. "Why are you missing a sock?"
Simon tries not to panic. "I only put one on this morning."
"Why?" Zoe asks.
"I couldn't find the other one."
The Oes share a silent exchange before going back to watching Mark play. Simon tries to join in, only to remember Mark breathing hard in the Audi and worries a hangnail instead. He's sucking on his bleeding cuticle when Will taps his shoulder and makes him jump.
"You're up," Will says. "If you could nail it in a couple of takes, that would be marvellous."
"Right. Sorry again."
"Don't be sorry, be good."
"Will do." Simon gives them all his best frontman smile. "I'll be done before you know it."
"He sez that to his girlfriends too," Mark says as he leaves the booth.
Simon sneers but Mark still claps him on the shoulder as he passes. As Simon puts on the headphones, he realises Mark used the hand he'd had down his pants.
***
Mark
"Nice job on Simon's vocals, Welly," Mark says while making to sit between the Oes on the settee. "If Simon fucks up my tune, we could use your recording and call it a night."
"Why can't you sit where there's space?" Zoe asks.
"I fancied being the filling in an Oe sandwich."
Zoe looks revolted as she makes room. He plops down between them with a pleased noise and places a hand on Joe's thigh.
"How are we Joseph?"
"Better for nearly being finished."
"You're as bad as Laddo. It'll take longer than this to record the album."
"I'm going to handcuff you both to the radiator when we record the album so you can't run off," Zoe mutters. "That'll improve the pace."
"Have you heard how she speaks to me?" Mark asks Joe. "Are you gonna stand for this?"
"Gladly." Mark follows Joe's gaze to his boots. "You're also missing a sock."
Zoe joins in looking. "Is this some new trend?"
"Yeah, you're behind the times, you two. Very disappointing."
"Why are you actually both missing a sock?" Joe asks.
"What Welly said, fashion." Joe keeps watching him expectantly. "You're not gonna wanna hear the real answer, best drop it."
"It's a sex thing, isn't it?" Zoe asks wearily.
"Does wanking count as sex?"
She looks underwhelmed. "Yourselves or each other?"
"This is quite an extensive line of questioning for a lesbian."
"Why were you wanking?"
"It gets the creative juices flowing."
"That's not what those are."
Mark grins appreciatively. "Who can say why anyone wanks?"
"I thought you were done with that?"
"We wanked ourselves off, that doesn't count as anything."
"What about Chris?" Joe asks quietly.
"It were nothing. It were stress relief," Mark says. "Helped shift Laddo's headache and eased my aching shoulders."
"Mark, if you don't stop talking about wanking, I'll make you stop," Will says with a flinty look. "Am I making myself clear?"
"Crystal clear, Billy. I can remove my sock if that'd help. It's attracting a lot more interest than I'd anticipated."
"Leave it and zip it."
Mark goes back to watching Simon, who returns his stare with a puzzled frown. Mark waves dismissively but carries on smiling. Simon keeps looking at him as he fumbles over his words. The engineer pauses the track and Will turns to glower at Mark again.
"If you're going to keep distracting one another, I'll ask you to face the wall."
"Bloody hell, were you a headmaster before you became a manager?"
Will turns redder. Mark walks over to the mixing desk and turns on the mic.
"Oi, Sharp. I'm getting bollocked for you being shit. Pull your sock up. Sooner you're done, sooner we can go home to bed."
"Quit talking then, it's distracting," Simon says. "I can't focus with you all in there, chatting and staring at me."
"God knows how you cope at gigs. We'll have to start shushing the crowd, tell them to mind their own business."
"That's enough chit chat," Will declares. "Back to it, Simon."
Simon closes his eyes and starts another take. They finally finish around midnight and give the rough mix a listen with small, weary smiles.
"I think we might be onto something with this," Mark says as he pockets a copy of the tape.
Will claps his hands together authoritatively. "Then we're onto the video. The cameraman is scheduled for Tuesday."
Simon pulls a face. "Can't we talk about this tomorrow?"
"It is tomorrow."
"We haven't had chance to appreciate a job well done," Mark gripes.
"You've had minutes to do that. As I was saying, we've got the man with the camera for three hours on Tuesday morning. Do you have a location?"
"Green's Court, Soho," Simon says.
"Is that a public road?"
"It's an alleyway," Joe says.
"I would recommend picking somewhere indoors to avoid getting interrupted or moved along."
"The only thing down there is a pub," Mark says. "If we're filming in the morning, it'll be quiet enough."
"I'll have a word with the landlord," Joe adds.
"Brave man, Joseph. Say hello to Alex for me, won't you?"
"Green's Court," Will says with an air of finality. "Tuesday morning. Six am."
"Six am?" Mark and Simon squeak.
"It'll be nice and quiet."
"Six bloody am," Mark mutters. "I've never been up at six am, you'll ruin my streak."
"It's summer, it'll be lovely and sunny, perfect for filming."
"So would ten o'clock," Simon says. "So would midday."
"Six am. No lie ins, no detours in sports cars. Are we agreed?" Mark and Simon look dubious. "The sooner you agree, the sooner we can leave."
Deff nod enthusiastically and Will gestures to the door.
"Then you're free to go," he says. "Good work today, tardiness aside."
It's disorienting to walk
outside and find the sun has set. The band congregates by a lamppost as Mark gives them a look.
"Alright, I'll get Chris up to speed later and see you lovely lot on Tuesday."
"Will you be coming in from Bermondsey?" Zoe asks.
"Yeah."
"I'll still give you and Simon five o'clock wake up calls."
"Because you care about me or cause you hate me?"
"Hard to say, isn't it?" Zoe links arms with Joe. "See you both Tuesday."
"The smiles on you two," Mark says with a grin of his own.
Zoe tries and fails to scowl. "Who Are Ya sounds really good."
"I'm smiling because she's smiling," Joe murmurs.
"Revolting. Off you both fuck, see you Tuesday."
When they've walked off in the direction of Zoe's car, Mark gives Simon a puzzled look. "You're still here."
"I'm not driving with them. I've got the Audi, remember?"
"How could I forget? Well, off you trot. Don't want you catching cold thanks to that bare ankle of yours."
"D'you want a lift?" Simon asks bluntly.
"What?"
"How else are you getting to Bermondsey?"
"Walk it? Jump the ticket barrier and tube it?"
"D'you want this lift or what?" Simon demands, eyes overly bright.
Mark suppresses a shiver. "Alright."
Simon throws him the keys when they get to the car. He catches them on surprised instinct and climbs in the driver's side.
"You said you'd be my chauffeur, didn't you?" Simon says.
"Bit weird to call it a lift if I'm driving myself."
"Less talk, yeah?"
Mark smirks as he starts the engine.
Simon speaks again when they reach the Thames. "What were you lot talking about?"
"Eh?"
"In the studio, what were you talking to the Oes about?"
"Cricket." He senses Simon's annoyance. "Crickets?"
"It's worse if you don't just say."
"I was telling them what we were up to, why we were late getting back to the studio."
Simon looks horrified when Mark spares him a glance. "And you said what?"
"We went driving," Mark shrugs. "What d'you think I meant?"
Simon leans back in his seat. "Right. Just say that in the future."
"Yes boss."
Mark takes an unnecessarily winding route back to Chris's as an excuse to put the car through its paces.
"Are you lost?" Simon asks.
He shoots him a wry smile. "Thought you'd like a spin."
"Good thing I topped up the petrol."
They're driving down the North Bank for a third time when Simon carries on. "Isn't Chris wondering where you are?"
"Speaking of, should I arrange a call for you two?"
"A call about what?"
"The music video," Mark says. "I can play him the tape, but you need to explain your vision to him."
"Why do I?"
"Because you won, fair and square, and part of the prize we agreed was working with Chris on the video treatment."
"I already said, I just want it to be me, singing the song. It doesn't need to be anything clever."
"Sure you don't want a call?" Mark asks. "You don't need to be scared of him, he doesn't bite."
"Why're you still driving around wimme if he's not scary?"
"Cause he's not my keeper."
"I don't wanna make you late, he might be missing you."
Mark gives the Thames a grimace of a smile. "He'll cope. I'll stop pissing around if it's really worrying you, though."
He hears Simon start chewing the inside of his cheek.
"How're you gonna explain the sock?" Simon asks when they park outside the flat block.
"Everyone's very interested in my socks today."
"Who's everyone?" Simon asks, suddenly tensing. "Did the Oes ask about it?"
"Yes, and I told them I chucked t'other one because it'd developed a hole, there's no need to get giddy about it. I can tell Chris I threw it out cause I stepped in a puddle. It's really not that exciting, he's not going to interrogate me."
"Or you could throw the other one out as well." Simon's tone makes his intentions clear.
"Could I?"
"Yeah."
Mark's jaw tightens as he looks up at Chris's dark living room windows. "Say what you're saying."
Simon goes rigid. "What?"
"Say what you're really saying. Go on."
Simon goes back to gnawing at his cheek and Mark smiles at him angrily.
"I'll see you at the shoot, Simon."
Simon stays silent as Mark climbs out of the car and heads inside. He lets himself into Chris's flat, strips to his pants and gets in bed beside him. Despite his efforts to keep quiet, Chris stirs.
"S'late," Chris murmurs against the mattress.
"Yeah. Took a while but we got the single recorded."
"Did you win?"
"No, Simon trounced me." He pulls the lyrics sheet out of his jacket pocket to wag at Chris. "Fancy a quick squiz?"
"Is the video still happening?" Chris blearily scans the lyrics.
"With a belter like this? Absolutely."
"The lyrics are-"
"Yeah," Mark agrees curtly. "Who knew he knew cursive? There's hope for him yet."
"I think I've got some ideas."
"So long as they involve Laddo singing straight at the camera, he'll be happy."
"He'll need to bring loads of clothes with him," Chris yawns.
"Go back to sleep, we'll talk about it in the morning."
Mark tries not to flinch when Chris drapes an arm over his waist. Chris's breathing turns sleepy but Mark only settles when an oversized engine starts and drives away.
Chapter 12
Simon
"Is the pub open?" Simon asks again to looks of annoyance from the cameraman, Deff and Will.
"It's seven in the morning, what d'you reckon?" Mark asks. "Quit complaining and whip your kit off."
"In an alleyway? With all of you watching?"
"Simon, no-one is planning to ogle your scrawny chest. Change."
"I thought Chris wanted me to bring a bunch of clothes so he could pick which he liked best," Simon mutters as he sifts through his old PE bag. "I didn't think he wanted me to wear all of them."
"Christ, the way you're going off you'd think he was suggesting you become a stripper. Change into your beautiful suit, King of Rock 'n' Roll."
Simon is buttoning up his shirt when Chris returns with a tray of coffees from Bar Italia. He offers them around but pauses when he gets to Simon.
"I'll save yours for later, don't want anything getting on your suit." Chris openly eyes it. "Mike told me about it, but it's better in person."
Simon returns his look coolly while knotting his tie. "Thanks."
"How many outfit changes does Simon have?" Will asks testily.
"We've done regular Simon and apprentice mechanic Simon," Mark says, counting on his fingers. "We've got football kit Simon, DEF Simon and P&Ts Simon left."
"I wasn't anticipating this amount of editing. Solitaire will probably go with the take they like most."
"It won't be demanding editing, they just need to pick their three favourite verses and choruses and stitch them together. It's hardly a David Byrne special," Mark says, obviously disappointed at the fact.
"It's simple but effective," Chris says with enough understated confidence to make Simon scowl.
"It could be a money maker," Mark adds. "If the single does well, maybe people'll be so taken with Laddo they could release a line of dolls."
"What're you on about?" Simon asks.
"You know, like the Spice Girls did. There could be a whole range of Simons with different outfits and accessories. One with a tyre iron, another with a set of Audi keys and an unopened box of condoms."
"Wish I did have a tyre iron," Simon mutters as he pulls on his suit jacket.
"Don't make me separate you," Will warns. "A
lright, better get to it if we've got three outfits left."
Simon goes to stand in front of the camera but feels Chris watching him. "What?"
"What?" Chris asks.
"You looked like you wanted to say something."
"Not really."
"Well, what do you think so far?" Simon asks, ignoring Will's look of frustration. "This was your idea, how d'you think it's going?"
"That's a very loaded question," Mark stage whispers at Chris. "Tell him how great and handsome he is."
"It's good," Chris offers. "It's fine."
"It's fine? You just think it's fine?"
Mark covers his face and sighs but Chris seems unfazed by Simon's reaction.
"It's not the best thing I've ever seen," Chris says.
"You think you could do better?"
"That's not the point, since I'm not the frontman."
"But you've got some ideas about what I could be doing instead?"
"It's a little one note," Chris says. "You could try varying your performance in each take."
"I thought you were an artist, not an acting coach."
"I'm a barman. Feel free to rate how well I pour a pint."
Mark grins as he looks between them. "Steady on, fellas. I'd say take it outside, but you already are."
"We're not fighting," Chris says firmly. "I'm not an acting coach, Simon. I'm just watching you and I think it'd be more interesting if you switched things up between takes."
"I've lost count of how many gigs we've had over the last couple years," Simon says, "but I know no-one's ever told me they thought I should switch things up."
"I'm not disputing that."
"Then what are you trying to say?"
"Can we park this before Will has an embolism?" Zoe asks.
"I wanna hear Chris's answer," Simon insists. "I'll be distracted thinking about it, otherwise."
Chris smiles. "I'm saying you could give a more interesting performance. You seemed distracted before we even started talking about it."
"That's his default setting," Mark chimes in. "He always looks like he's trying to do his two times tables. It stems from being thick, there's nowt we can do about that."
"I might not have a tyre iron but I've got a tie," Simon warns with a tightening, choking motion.
"Promises, promises."
"So what is distracting you?" Chris asks.
"Having a camera in my face, having you here, stripping to my pants in Soho. Plenty of stuff."