Starstruck (9 page)

When
it is finally my turn to have a shower I make it snappy before slipping my
t-shirt back on. Now that I’m hanging around the backstage area I have to have
my Access All Areas pass on show which leaves me no choice but to wear it
around my neck. There’s no doubt about it, I look like a total nerd.

All
alone backstage, I examine the table of food again. I didn’t eat much yesterday
and I’ve decided that was the reason I got so drunk last night (although it
probably had more to do with the fact that I just drank way too much). I make
myself a sandwich and, suddenly starving, I take an over enthusiastic bite.
Just my luck, Luke walks back into the room as I’m struggling to chew a huge
mouthful of food. I have managed to make myself look like an even bigger loser
but at least I’m making him smile.

‘Bitten
off more than you can chew?’ he asks.

He
doesn’t know the half of it. He waits patiently for a reply.

‘Done,’
I say victoriously, putting the rest of the sandwich to one side because
suddenly I’m not that hungry anymore.

‘Well
check out that super-cool laminated pass hanging around your neck. Are you with
the band?’ he asks. He’s obviously not done teasing me just yet.

Now
is my chance. Toying with my lanyard, I give him my sexiest look, but as I take
a step towards him I catch my foot on a guitar lead and fall into him, face
first. Luckily he catches me and he doesn’t let go.

‘Easy
tiger,’ he says with a laugh, before leaning in closer and whispering into my
ear. ‘At least wait until I’ve got you in my room.’

With
his face still just inches from mine, Luke starts gently kissing my neck and it’s
fortunate that he is still holding onto me because my legs instantly turn to
jelly. Next thing I know we’re kissing on the lips. I don’t want to sound all
lame and high school again, but this is our first proper kiss and all that’s
missing is the firework display. As he pushes me back onto the tatty old sofa I
wrap my legs around his waist. I can’t believe this is actually happening. Just
as our kisses get heavier, I faintly hear the door open and things come to a
sudden stop. I smile and try to look innocent, something that I have perfect
over the years to get myself out of tricky situations. With that said, even the
most innocent of innocent looks couldn’t make this situation look like anything
other than what it is because my legs are still wrapped tightly around Luke’s
waist and locked at the ankle. If it’s anyone other than Mark then I might be
able to live this one down. I dare myself to look towards the door and, of
course, it’s Mark. He glares at me before wandering over to fridge.

‘Not
interrupting anything I hope,’ he says, grabbing a can of something and
plonking himself down next to us.

‘Actually
mate...’ Luke begins, but Mark doesn’t let him finish.

‘Good,
because I need something to eat and Eddie needs
you
on the stage. Now.’

Luke
looks at me and gives me that cheeky smile I love so much. He plants a peck on
my lips and manages to free himself from my grasp, pulling up and fastening his
jeans as he leaves the room – I didn’t even realise he’d undone them, what
moves he has! It’s just me and Mark now, and as long as he doesn’t speak to me
then I’ll happily keep out of his way.

‘I
knew you were a groupie, but fucking hell. You could at least wait twenty-four
hours between shagging each band member. Bloody tart,’ he snaps at me.

I
like to think I’m a pretty chilled lady, a lover not a fighter and all that,
but I can’t keep my temper under control any longer and I snap back.

‘Excuse
me?’ I ask, standing up and trying to subtly straighten my dress back down over
my lower half. ‘First of all, I haven’t shagged anyone,’ I yell. ‘And second of
all, I was very drunk last night, and you knew that, and I didn’t want to kiss
you, and you knew that too. Ok, I might have kissed you back for a second but
as drunk as I was, I still came to my senses. Get the fuck over it!’

It’s
amazing how a little bit of anger brings my inner northern monkey.

Mark
looks gobsmacked. Friend or not, I probably shouldn’t upset the celebrities,
but how dare he call me a tart? If I had shagged him down that alley he
probably wouldn’t be calling me any names.

‘Do
what you want, write what you want, shag who you want!’ he shouts, leaving the
room and slamming the door behind him.

There
are hundreds of girls queuing up outside the venue right now and, despite being
a podgy arsehole in need of a good wash and a shave, he could probably have his
pick of any of them. Why waste his time getting angry at me?

My
eyes start to feel heavy and a huge tear falls from my right eye, rolling down
my face and stripping my skin of every ounce of make-up that dares to stand in
its path. I wipe it quickly and grab my foundation from my bag. I can’t let
anyone see me crying.

I
should be buzzing after kissing Luke. Instead, I am sitting in a backstage room,
all on my own, sobbing because some C-list bassist just called me a tart.

As
I smarten myself up and retouch my make-up I take yet another long hard look in
the mirror. Tonight is going to be a long night.

After
an awesome performance (including an encore) I am clapping and screaming just
as much as any other fan in the room – maybe more so.

‘Are
you their mascot?’ a handsome older man asks me, nodding in the direction of the
hideous orange dress I forgot I was wearing.

‘Not
exactly,’ I tell him with a giggle. ‘It’s a funny story really.’

‘I
hope you’re going to tell me it.’

‘To
summarise...’ I take a deep breath. ‘I am touring with the band to write a
magazine feature but I forgot my bag and I spilt a drink on my pretty dress, so
Luke, the drummer, was kind enough to give me
this
to wear.’

‘Wow,
he must hate you!’ the stranger says, insulting my dress.

‘I
know, right? What a bastard!’

He
laughs.

‘You
said you’re writing a feature on the band? I’m here to write a review for the
local paper,’ he informs me.

‘Oops!
Did I say he was a bastard? Because what I mean to say is what a wonderful band
this is, and how you should definitely give them a good review!’

‘Don’t
worry, I’m impressed. My name is Kenny by the way.’

‘Nice
to meet you, Kenny.’ I shake his hand, ‘I’m Nicole.’

‘It’s
nice to meet you too. Can I buy you a drink? We can swap notes.’

The
band have only just finished and I know I’m going to be on my own while they do
promo and meet fans so I agree and we take a seat at the bar. Kenny seems like
a nice guy and he’s a music reviewer for the local press so I’m sure I can
learn a thing or two from him.

 ‘I
think your friend is worried about you,’ Kenny tells me, steering me towards
Luke with a swift movement of his eyes.

I
glance over and he’s right, Luke is giving us a filthy look.

‘He
needn’t be worried, I’m more interested in him than I am in you, darling,’ he says
with a wink.

Poor
Luke, if only he knew.

‘I’ll
put in a good word for you,’ I tell Kenny, winking right back at him.

‘Don’t
worry about it, I think he’s got his eye on someone else in this room and I
think we both know who that is.’

I
smile but then something catches my eye.

‘Excuse
me for a moment, Kenny,’ I say, making my way over to the band.

The
guys are surrounded by fans, but there’s this one girl who caught my eye
because she is wearing the same orange t-shirt as me. Eddie just blanked her
for a gang of half-naked skinny bitches and she knows it.

I
tap her on the shoulder. ‘Don’t you just hate it when someone wears the same
outfit as you?’

‘It
looks better on you,’ she replies with an unconvincing smile.

‘Are
you trying to meet the band?’ I ask.

‘Trying.’
She holds up a poster. ‘I wanted them to sign this.’

‘I’m
a friend of theirs, I’ll get them to sign it. Don’t worry about Ed, even I’ll
have trouble getting his attention and he’s known me for years.’

Taking
the poster and marker pen I start with Luke.

‘Can
you sign this for that lovely girl over there?’ I ask him.

‘Sure.
Who’s that guy you’re with?’

‘A
journalist, so be nice,’ I warn him.

Ben
signs the poster next, and thankfully he gets Mark to sign it too. If I’d asked
he probably would have told me to piss off. Now all I need is Eddie, and skinny
bitches are his favourite thing so it’s going to be tough getting his
attention. I push my way through the girl gang and hook my arm around Eddie’s.
You’ve got to get territorial and show them who is boss, it’s the only way a
girl can survive in this environment.

‘Eddie
baby, could you sign this for my friend please?’

‘Anything
for you, Miss Wilde,’ he says, taking the pen and signing over his face on the
poster.

‘Thanks
babe.’ I plant a kiss on his cheek and give the girls a smile before making my
way back towards my new friend.

‘Ta-da,’
I say, handing her the poster along with a plectrum, a wristband and some
stickers. ‘And he’s a few bits from the merch stand too.’

Bless
her, she looks so happy. It really bugs me that Eddie only gives attention to
the girls he fancies. It’s girls like this one who pay his wages, not the ones
who are only here to try and sleep with him.

I
head back over to the bar where Kenny is sitting.

‘I
saw what you did. You’re a real sweetheart aren’t you, Nicole?’

‘Oh,
I do try,’ I say with a laugh, just as Luke appears.

I
introduce them and Luke shakes Kenny’s hand. I’m surprised he isn’t doing more
to soften up the guy who will be reviewing him for the entire city of
Birmingham to read.

Luke
tells me that they’ve got to head back to the hotel for an interview, which I’m
guessing is my cue to say goodbye to my new best friend and go with them.

‘Kenny,
do you want to come and have a drink in the hotel bar?’ I ask. ‘I want to hear
more of your stories, and if these guys are doing an interview I’ll only have
to sit and watch.’

‘I’d
love to,’ Kenny replies, clearly annoying Luke by doing so.

‘Right,
well we’re going now so if you’re coming get a move on,’ Luke tells us, so we
knock back the remainder of our drinks and follow his lead.

The
hotel we are staying in is absolutely gorgeous. I couldn’t ever afford to stay
in a place like this on my own, but that’s the beauty of being a hanger-on –
someone else always foots the bill. I know that I’m lucky to stay in such
beautiful places, which is probably why I don’t take any of it for granted
unlike most of the bands I know.

Tonight
we’re staying at the Hotel Regale. I’ve only just stepped through the door and
I’m already in love with the place. Inside the lobby they have replaced one of the
walls with a huge fish tank, which is absolutely mesmerising – even to an
entirely sober person, I’d imagine. On the other side of the tank is the bar,
which is where Kenny and I are heading. There’s no point in me going up to the
room and hanging around in the background while they do their interview, I may as
well be down here sucking Dutch courage through a sparkly straw.

As
soon as they’re done Luke is going to call reception and have someone let me
know I can go up. I’m suddenly really nervous again, but trying to keep it out
of my mind while I’m chatting to Kenny. We’re swapping stories about interviews
and gigs. I know I have some great tales to tell (not that I ever would outside
of the loop) but I am so jealous of some of his stories. Yes, we’ve only just
met, but we’re already sharing a little too much information – this must be how
rumours start, with Journalists getting tipsy and exchanging stories.

It
isn’t long before a nice lady lets me know that “Mr Fox” is waiting for me. It
sounds so weird to hear Luke being referred to as Mr Fox, like he’s a proper
adult.

I
say goodbye to my new friend and we swap details before I make my way to the
lift. I hang back for a few minutes, spotting Mick the tour manager getting in
the lift with a gang of giggly girls. No prizes what, or should I say who,
Eddie is doing tonight. I’m so glad I’m in with Luke because I am so not in the
mood for a party with giggly fan-girls – and I’m allowed to say that because I
used to be one, I know how annoying we are.

The
nerves finally hit me as I step out of the lift. Luke is standing outside the
door waiting for me, and he must have had quite a bit to drink while they were
doing their interview because he is wasted.

‘Shall
we go in?’ he asks, fiddling with the key card for the room. For some reason he
can’t get the door to open.