by Danni Fall
"No, people care about the music, they won't give a sod who we are. We're just entertainers."
"You could wind up celebrities. People take an interest in celebrities."
"No we won't."
"Why not? Why would you be any different to any other band that comes out of nowhere with a hit song and a handsome frontman?"
"Handsome, eh? Perhaps you should've brought Simon after all."
"Don't joke about that," Chris says tiredly. "Just stop joking."
"If that happens, it sounds like Simon needs to worry, not me. I'm just the lowly guitarist."
"Who writes the songs, has a checkered past and-"
"You know fuck all about my past," Mark snaps. "Don't act like you do."
"I wonder why?"
"Look, if some weird sod took an interest in my boring life-"
"Your boring life, filled with fake identities and speed."
"-I'd lie. I'd tell them they'd got it confused, that I'm a mild mannered bloke called Mike and they've got me confused with my brother."
"It's not a hard lie to uncover."
"I'm not arguing the toss about this in here," Mark insists, lip curling at their surroundings. "Get to the point."
"My point is I don't believe you can pretend to be someone else forever."
"Why are you obsessed about that?"
"I'm not obsessed," Chris says. "But I'm you're boyfriend and I'm not going to pretend I'm not, not forever."
"I need to get out of here."
"I agree. Let's go back to the lockers."
Mark follows him with his head bowed. When they walk through the pool room there are only two men bathing but more men are in the showers. Mark waddles faster across the tiles to avoid their attention.
Chris pauses by one shower. "Aren't you going to wash? You'll get your clothes sweaty if you don't."
"I need to leave," Mark insists, carrying on to the locker room.
There's only one other man inside. Mark knows the man only stares because he's wheezing for breath but rounds on him anyway. "What're you looking at?"
The man's eyebrows lift. "Nothing."
"Good. Don't make me-" Mark stumbles over his threat as he yanks on his clothes.
"Don't flatter yourself," the man sneers before leaving.
Mark is pulling on his boots by the time Chris enters, towelling himself after his shower.
"I'm sorry this upset you," Chris says. "I wouldn't have brought you here if I'd known."
"I'm not upset."
"You seem upset."
"I'm not, I'm disgusted."
Chris yanks open his locker. "You can go, you don't need to wait for me. I don't want to talk to you right now."
Mark can't get his fingers to tie his bootlaces so lets them trail.
"Bye," he offers lamely. Chris barely acknowledges him.
He walks downstairs in a daze, dropping the key and towel on the counter and heading back onto the street. He squints in the sunshine and waits for the tightness in his chest to ease but it doesn't shift, regardless of how far he gets from the sauna. He winds up at the Sex Den, unlocks the door and heads upstairs to sprawl on the settee. He pulls a bottle of vodka out from behind one cushion and takes a swig as he checks his phone and opens his latest texts.
Solitaire got Who Are Ya in front of national radio stations. Sounds like some will play it Will's text reads. Arranging radio interviews. Do not go off grid.
zo n will r trying 2 get radio interviews Simon's text reads. not on essex fm, on big stations
Mark drinks while deciding whether to delete Simon's message. After another swig he gives in and responds.
So I hear.
this is rly hapenin isnt it
Mark smiles to himself queasily. Did I give you the impression I was mucking around before? Thought you fancied headlining Wembley?
wierd gettin wot u want
Mark goes back to drinking only for Simon to text again.
wot was chris surprise? dont say if it was sex
He formulates different answers - funny, absurd, eye-wateringly honest - before settling on radio silence. Sleep comes before he hears from Chris.
Chapter 14
Simon
The more copies they sell of Who Are Ya, the less Simon sleeps. When they book their first interview with a national radio station, he gives up his nightly pretence of going to bed and goes for a spin. He drives around Upney, looking at familiar sights in the dusk, before checking his petrol gauge and deciding to top up.
The bright white lights of the petrol station make him squint. He grabs a cherry Tango and a pack of Wotsits then heads to the till. Donna gives him a wide eyed look from behind the counter.
"Morning Don." He tries not to focus on her shapeless tabard.
"Hey. You don't still live around here, do you? Ryan said you were out in Southend."
"Yeah, I'm just passing through. Ry said you two are seeing each other."
Donna busies herself scanning his snacks. "Just casually."
"Hope he's behaving."
"Mostly. I mean he's still Ryan, I can't ask for miracles, can I?"
Simon forces a laugh as he gets out his credit card.
"I heard your song on the radio," Donna says as he signs the receipt.
"On Essex FM?"
"No, on Radio A. Heard it a few times, actually. Must be selling well."
"Yeah, it is."
He holds out the pen and she gives him a searching look.
"Is that all okay?" he asks.
"Has he asked you yet?"
"Has Ryan asked me what?"
Donna grabs the pen and sticks the snacks in a bag. "It's not for me to say."
"Is everything okay?"
"It's all fine. I don't want you worrying, he was just thinking about asking you... It's really nothing to worry about."
He takes the proffered bag dazedly. "Right. Say hi to Ry."
"Don't tell him I ran my mouth. Please. I'll give you another can of Tango."
"I'm good for Tango."
"You're sure?" she insists.
"Promise, I'll just forget about it. See you later, yeah?"
"Yeah, see you later."
He gets back in the Audi, takes a swig of his Tango and sets off. At the crossroads, he considers carrying on to Ryan's. He checks the time and drives the long way into London instead, hours before Deff are due on Radio Y.
***
Simon stifles a yawn as the advert break ends and the DJ leans towards the mic.
"Welcome back to drive time. If you're just tuning in, I've got some special guests with me this morning. Now, you might not think you know who Deff are but trust me, if you've been listening to my show or Stevie's, you'll have heard their latest single, Who Are Ya. And if you're anything like me, you'll be humming it for the rest of the day. We'll give it a play in a minute but first, Deff, how are ya?"
Simon resists mentally replaying his conversation with Donna for the umpteenth time. He glances down the row of chairs circling the mic to check if Mark is about to answer but Mark keeps staring at middle distance, mouth working silently as he seemingly does mental arithmetic.
"Don't all rush to answer," the DJ jokes in the silence.
The Oes give Simon a pointed look so he clears his throat and moves up to the mic. "Good, thanks."
Zoe rolls her eyes.
Simon ignores the urge to gnaw on his lip and clears his throat. "Better than alright, actually."
"That's lead singer, Simon Sharp," the DJ says. "Though actually, a little birdie told me your real name is Simon Pratt."
"It was my real name. Pratt means cunning, and it turns out I was so cunning that I came up with an even better name."
Simon tries not to bristle when the DJ laughs.
"Excellent name it is too," the DJ says. "You wrote Who Are Ya, didn't you?"
"Yeah, that's right."
"And that's a departure because Mike, you usually write Deff's songs as well as play guitar."
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When Mark continues staring at nothing, Zoe kicks him.
Mark jolts to his senses. "What?"
"I said you usually write Deff's songs, don't you Mike?"
"That's a very diplomatic way of saying I'm the talented one, Dave."
"My name's Nick."
"I let Simon write this one as a reward for his good behaviour," Mark says. "Didn't he do well?"
"We both had a go writing a song and mine was way better than Mike's so we went with mine," Simon corrects.
"Excuse you! It's not that bad, it's still the B side."
"Like anyone cares about B sides."
Zoe's Doc Mart connects with Simon's shin.
"You two seem to have an interesting relationship," the DJ says. "How did you meet?"
"At school," Mark says. "We've been best mates since reception. I let Simon play with the last pair of bucket stilts in exchange for a contraband Jammie Dodger."
The DJ looks to Simon for confirmation.
"That's bollocks," Simon says. "Can I say bollocks?"
"Perhaps don't say it again."
"Right, sorry. It's wrong."
"Then how did you really meet?"
Mark gives him a sharp smile, clearly interested to hear what he'll say.
"Mike tells it better," Simon says reluctantly.
"I'm the resident raconteur," Mark agrees. "We met cause I was in the market for a singer for my new band. At the time, Simon was kicking his heels as the frontman for Essex's foremost ABC tribute act."
"Wow," the DJ says. "What's your favourite ABC song, Simon?"
He mulls over the million dollar question.
"We'll be here all day, waiting for an answer," Mark says. "I don't think he's met an ABC song he didn't like."
"I wasn't kicking my heels," Simon insists. "But I definitely did Mike a favour. He was fronting this unlistenable band that did metal covers of Motown songs."
"Wow," the DJ says again, eyebrows halfway up his forehead as he scans his seemingly incomprehensive notes. "Not a sentence you hear every day."
"Yeah, him and Joe were busy deafening their local boozer and student unions playing metal Supremes covers and that. I auditioned for Mike's new band and knocked his socks off."
Mark's lip twitches at the description. "He's not bad."
"How about you Zoe?" the DJ asks. "Were you a metalhead before this?"
"No, I was more of a disillusioned lawyer," she says.
The DJ blows his breath out dramatically. "I've gotta say guys, in all my years on Radio Y, I've not heard this origin story before."
"You've not heard music like ours before neither," Simon says cockily.
"I've gotta agree. I hear a lot of music but Who Are Ya is out there. What inspired you to write it, Simon?"
Simon sees Mark tense pre-emptively.
"West Ham, Wimpy and women," he says to laughter.
"Excellent, I can definitely hear that. Now Joe, you were in Mike's old metal band. Deff must really be a change of pace."
Simon's mind drifts back to the petrol station as the Oes provide a sanitised account of Deff's creation to a chorus of appreciative laughter and questions from the DJ. All the while, his gaze slides over to Mark, who continues staring at nothing while his mouth moves silently. Mark finally notices his attention and quirks an eyebrow. Simon mouths what's wrong with you and Mark gives an exaggerated shrug in response.
Everyone except Mark fields the rest of the interview. Simon chimes in with anecdotes about working in a lingerie department and his skills on the football pitch, while Mark offers the occasional grunt of acknowledgement.
"This has been one for the books Deff," the DJ says as he wraps things up. "Can't wait to see what you do next. For now, if you somehow haven't heard it yet, this is Who Are Ya."
Simon makes small talk with the DJ while the track plays. He soaks up the man's compliments and signs autographs for a sound tech and the fit girl who fetched them coffee. It's obvious she's interested in him and up for some flirting but he reluctantly settles for adding his mobile number to his autograph before being ushered into the foyer by Will.
Once they're out of earshot, he rounds on Mark. "What the hell was that about?"
"What?" Mark asks distractedly.
"The one time we could do with you running your mouth, you sit there like a bloody mime."
"I said some stuff. I made fun of ABC, didn't I?"
"By your standards you said nothing at all, you kept zoning out."
Mark looks at the Oes and Will. "Are you as outraged as Laddo?"
"I was expecting a little more enthusiasm," Will says. "Though I'm also grateful you didn't say anything inappropriate."
"He didn't say anything inappropriate cause he barely said anything," Simon insists. "Total waste of time."
"Calm down, it weren't that bad. It went fine, they played the single, Dave-"
"Nick!"
"I meant Nick - he was singing our praises and kissing your arse no end. I dunno what the big problem is."
"What distracted you?" Joe asks quietly.
"Are we going or what? They'll clamp the Audi if we keep farting around."
"You were thinking about something," Joe says.
Mark's cheek twitches. "Are you suggesting I'm not normally thinking about something? Think you've confused me with Wotsit."
"Remember our contract," Simon says. "No lying."
"How'm I lying? Tell me one thing I've said that's a lie."
"You said you're not up to anything and that's bullshit."
"I never said I wasn't up to anything."
"Then say what you're planning, Jesus Christ," Simon snaps.
"There's no point telling you till I know if it'll amount to anything."
"Till you know what'll amount to anything?"
"Quit nebbing, it's nowt exciting."
"Then just say!"
Will stops consulting his PDA to give them a warning frown. "Let's tone it down fellas, don't want to be in the gossip columns, do we?"
"Least me giving him a fat lip would be interesting," Simon mutters. "More interesting than that interview."
Joe walks them all outside but Mark keeps his attention on Simon.
"Oh, I'm quaking in my boots, Sharp."
"Piss off."
"You've got so much faith in me, haven't you?"
"Can you blame me?"
"Remind me again, who got who arrested?" Mark doesn't wait for an answer. "It's nothing bad, I just had a brainwave. If you'll give me half a chance to make a call, I'll see about sorting things out, then I'll fill you in."
"Just say now, while you're here. Before you piss off on some drugs binge or something."
Mark starts scrolling through his mobile as he edges away.
"Hello?" Simon glowers. "I'm not talking to myself."
"Wish you were. Let me get on with it, you can't stop genius."
"Like you'd know anything about that."
"Please just say what this relates to so I can prepare for any unintended consequences," Will says.
Mark spins around but keeps walking backwards with a grin. "Cheap press. Actually, better than that, free press."
"What did I say about you running off again?" Zoe asks.
"Where's your handcuffs?" Mark counters, holding out his wrists as though expecting to get shackled. "Fancy you not being prepared, Welly! I promise, I'm not going far."
"How's this not lying?" Simon calls after him. "How's this not breaching our contract?"
"I'm not lying, I'm withholding information."
"And that's better, is it?"
Mark pretends to consider. "I'd say so."
"It's not better than saying what you're up to!"
"All in the fullness of time, Sharp, have some blumming patience."
Joe claps a hand on Simon's shoulder as he makes to stalk after Mark.
At the street corner, Mark turns back to face the band again. "Last word on the matter: our contract also says we agre
e to make a proper go of Deff. I've been waiting ten years, practically, to hear my song-"
"My song," Simon corrects.
"Our song, on the radio. Have some fucking faith that I've got our best interests at heart. I'll give you all a tinkle when I know what's happening."
With a puckered air kiss and a toodle loo, Mark legs it into the side street. Zoe gives the kerb a half-hearted kick with her boot.
"The day Mark knows what's happening..." she mutters, before looking at Will. "The interview wasn't that bad."
"I thought it went well, Mark's lack of energy aside," Will says. "You can usually rely on him for giddy enthusiasm."
Simon stops staring after Mark and spots Joe looking thoughtful. "You know where he's gone, don't you?"
"I don't know, but I have my suspicions," Joe says. "Should I follow him?"
Zoe pulls a face. "Will that make Mark more or less likely to do something stupid?"
"I doubt my actions will make any difference. Mark is rarely dissuaded when his mind is made up. There may still be some benefit to keeping an eye on him, so we can prepare accordingly."
"Follow him," Simon says. "Tell us what he's up to, soon as you know."
"I'll keep you updated. See you back at HQ."
Will looks between them. "Well. Quite the morning and it's not even noon."
"Need a sit down after all the excitement?" Zoe teases.
"Not quite, but I best be off so I can wade through all the enquiries we're getting. Tell Mark to get ready for more interviews before the week's out, won't you? Deff's in demand."
Simon's grin grows. "Even if Mark's not ready, I know I am. Just say the word, Will."
"Good man. Be seeing you both."
"Back to HQ then?" Zoe asks. She senses Simon's reluctance. "Again? Seriously?"
"What? Is it a crime to want to see our single?"
"You've seen it plenty of times."
"It's different, seeing it in a shop," he says.
Zoe smiles grudgingly as she walks them in the direction of Oxford Street. "Novelty not worn off yet?"
"I don't know that it ever will."
Sure enough, when they walk into the first record store they come to, Simon gets misty eyed. He bites his lip to keep it from quivering when he spots the display of Who Are Ya singles, stacked alongside the week's other releases. He picks up a copy and resists the urge to buy it.