Chasing Chaos

2009

The grass was a little wet but we were sitting on it anyway. I was still picking at the food Tom had bought me before we’d come to the park. I was leaning against his shoulder and we were both watching a little girl chase after the ducks by the pond. It was almost as fun as doing it ourselves. Oli was a few yards behind us talking on his mobile. It seemed like he was giving us space. I wasn’t sure why but I was almost thankful. Being next to Tom was peaceful. The old blanket feeling.

“Yeh doin’ well down there?” Tom asked me.

“I think so… Made it through last terms modules jus’ fine. Even bloody EU law; ‘at was a pain.”

“Yeh’ll be a solicitor then? After next year?”

“Tha’s the plan, I guess. Suppose it depends on who’ll have me. I don’ know if I wanna work for some big company though. Business law is right borin’.”

“An’ law in general isn’t?” He smirked and I frowned.

“It’s not borin’. It’s jus’ complicated. And challengin’. I like that. ‘S not sumthin tha’s simple. ‘S got levels.”

“I’m glad yeh like it though… An’ I’m proud of yeh.”

“Proud?”

“Mmhmm.”

Then we were quiet again. I watched the little girl get too close to the water and heard her father, who was seated near by, tell her away. She had seemed to exhaust her interest in the ducks and decided to pick at the grass. She tore a handful from the ground and ran to show her dad. He shook his head and brushed it out of her tiny hands gently. It was an adorable thing to watch, especially when I took note of the father’s tattooed arms. I’d sort of acquired a thing for tattoos. And the idea that those sort of guys could be family men was rather pleasing to me.

I closed my eyes for a moment, leaning back on my elbows and wishing there was a bit of sunshine. I’d spent so much of my life living with rainy or cloudy days. Would it kill mother nature to lay up on the overcast skies?

I took a deep breath; things felt good despite the lacking sun. I could hear Tom breathing softly from beside me and Oli arguing with someone from behind me. I could hear the little girl giggling and then I heard “Anna?” My eyes opened. “Anna Harvey?” It was the little girl’s father talking to me. He had her scooped up in his inked arms. It was then that I realized I recognized him.

“Peter! ‘Ello!” I sat up straighter, scrambling a bit and then standing.

“I thought it was yeh sittin’ over ‘ere.”

“I only saw yeh from behind. Didn’ recognize yeh,” I admitted.

“Don’ expect yeh would. ‘S been awhile. Haven’ spoke ta yer brother in two years at least. How’s ‘e doin’?” Peter asked. He had been one of my older brother Samuel’s mates from the time we moved to Sheffield. Sam was almost five years older than me, so we never exactly hung out. But Peter and the rest of his crowd were at the house enough for me to know them and enough for them to pick on me.

“’E’s gettin’ married in October,” I responded.

“Tha’s good. Really good. Same bird ‘e were with before?”

“Lizzie?”

“Aye, Lizzie. O’ways thought she was good for ‘im.”

“Mmhmm, she sets ‘im straight.”

“Good.”

I looked to the little girl who was wiggling around in his hold. I waved at her. “Hey there.” She hid her face from me. “She yours?”

He nodded. “Em,” he spoke to the child. “Em, don’t be shy. Look here.” The girl peeked up at me. “Say ‘ello to Anna.”

“’Lo,” she squeaked quickly and went back to hiding.

“She’s a bit shy ‘round new people,” he explained.

“Tha’s o’reight,” I ran my hand down a piece of her blonde hair. “I’m shy too,” I spoke to her sweetly. “Wha’s she called? Em?”

“Emily… I call her Em.”

“’Ow old is she?”

“She’ll be three in September.”

“Wow… Didn’ know yeh even ‘ad a kid.”

“Well, ‘ve only got her on weekends now.”

“Oh,” I hummed.

“Not with her mum anymore…”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not… ‘S best for Em.”

“Oh, I guess tha’s good then.” I nodded awkwardly and remembered then that Tom was still beside me. “D’yeh remember Tom?”

Peter looked down at him. “Tha chubby lad yeh ran around with all the time?”

“My best mate,” I corrected.

Tom looked unhappy with Peter’s description of him but he said “Aye, tha were me.”

“Tom, this is Sam’s mate Peter,” I reintroduced them. They shook hands as I added “Back there is Oli,” I pointed behind me.

Peter nodded curtly. “I know ‘im.” It didn’t sound like a good thing coming from him. But he changed the subject quickly. “So wha ‘ave yeh been up to?”

“Uni… In Birmingham. Stayin’ ‘ere for the summer though. Gotta find a job; my mum insists.”

“Really? I work at the Turn… ‘S a bookshop.”

“Sure, I know it.”

“Been lookin’ for some’un for days… Only part time though.”

I jumped at this. “Part time is good!” I said eagerly. “An’ I got experience with books. I worked at the library for a couple years.”

“Then yeh should drop by an’ apply. I’ll put in a good word.”

“Tha’d be brilliant.” I smiled at him. He was rather cute, blond haired and brown eyed like his daughter. It wouldn’t be so bad working with him. It wouldn’t be bad working, period.

“Yeh better apply. I need some company there. The shop owner is right mental.”

“Tha’s encouraging.”

“It’s loads o’ fun, I promise.” He said this at the same time Emily let out a small whine. “I better be off. She’s tired, I think.”

“O’reight. Was good seein’ yeh.”

“An’ I’ll be seein’ yeh again soon, yeah?”

“Most certainly.”

He looked at Tom. “Nice seein’ yeh, mate.”

“Aye, yeh too.”

Peter left and I watched him go. I was trying to talk myself out of thinking he was absolutely gorgeous. A summer fling was the last thing I wanted. I’d learned my lesson with those. And besides, he had a kid. That seemed like something that should concern me. But it didn’t, not really. Everyone had their own baggage.

“Were tha’ Peter fuckin’ Frost?” Oli demanded, finally off his mobile and looking a bit irate.
I nodded. “It was.”

“I hate tha’ fuckin’ wanker,” Oli seethed.

Tom leaned over to me. “Oli shagged his sister,” he explained.

I snorted, not surprised.

“Ef I hadn’t been on a call…” Oli mumbled. “I could kill ‘im.”

Both Tom and I were rolling our eyes, I was sure.

----

2005

I guess a good word for me at sixteen would be lightweight. Other words to describe me: mental, naïve, totally fucking stupid.

I’m not sure why Oli kept hanging around me that night. Maybe he was hiding from the numerous girls just begging for his attention, though I’m not sure why he would. Maybe I’d become cool without my knowledge or something. But probably, it was because he was drunk.

Where I could say no after two drinks and stop, Oli could never just stop. This was something that I would learn. He continued buying drinks or having drinks bought for him. And for me. Though I had planned on only having a couple, it was hard to refuse one when it was handed to you. Especially when the charismatic Oli was doing the handing. Saying no seemed like the ultimate impossibility. Because dear god, what would he think if I said no? That I was being rude? That I was being prude? I’m not sure which would be worse.

At first, Oli and I having a piss up at the bar didn’t really seem like a big deal. Tom had been called over to help sell t-shirts in the far corner. I suspected that he was a bit angry with me for even drinking to begin with. After all, he’d sworn to my overprotective parents that I would be doing no such thing. But whether he was upset or not, he didn’t really know that I was having more than a few. I felt a bit guilty but there was something tremendously exciting about being around Oli. He was so lively and knew so many people. Everyone was coming up to him and slapping him on the back or high fiving him. And he was introducing me to each one of them.

“Have yeh met lil’ Savanna? She’s a riot,” he would say. Though I didn’t like the ‘lil’ addition to my name, I didn’t even mind that he was calling me Savanna. He was making me look really awesome just by the association. There was something that was almost hypnotic about the atmosphere that Oli created. It felt glamorous or dangerous. For once, I did not feel like just plain Anna. I felt absolutely exhilarated. And slightly drunk.

By the time he took the stage, Oli was hammered. He’d told me to come closer to the stage but I’d quickly realized that was a terrible idea. I did not like being flanked by several shirtless guys looking like they wanted to start trouble. So I hung back at the edge of the crowd, just then finishing my fourth beer. The word lightweight was coming to my mind again. I was cursing both my fairly small frame and lack of drinking experience. I was beginning to get that cloudy head feeling just as five figures flew onto the stage and chaos cut across the crowd. It fogged up my brain even further. The reaction to Bring Me the Horizon’s entrance was remarkable. I’d never been too particularly interested in that sort of music; my initial reaction to it had been that it sounded a lot like noise. I clung tightly to a love for sad bastard music. But this experience made metal seem different, seeing it live made it seem like so much fun.

I found myself moving a little bit as they tore through their opening song; I couldn’t help it, I was still hypnotized. The only thing to bring me out of my beer and bedlam induced trance was Oli speaking when the first song had finished. “Oy! I want all yeh fuckers ta do me a favor!” Even his slurred words were ridiculously enamoring. The crowd responded to him in an eager and excited manner. “Do yeh lot see tha’ lil’ lass in the back? With the fuckin’ Smiths shirt on, lookin’ fuckin’ miserable? Give ‘em a wave there, Savanna.”

Horror and pleasure pulsed through me. He was talking about me. If I hadn’t been drinking, I probably would have been positively mortified. But instead, I gave the biggest wave I could muster, still probably looking rather timid.

“Now, I wan’ all of yeh ta make sure tha’ she has a good time. She don’t get out much.”

That was also sort of embarrassing but the fact that Oli was calling me out in front of the entire room was surprising and all together thrilling. I was definitely having a school girl crush moment. Like those moments in primary when one of the little boys pushes you down and gets your new florescent pink jumper muddy but then you still swoon anyway because at least he touched you. Then you’d run and tell your friends that the little boy was mean to and they would tell you that this meant he liked you. That is exactly how my mind was working right then. Utter nonsense.

I had not anticipated that someone would grab a hold of my hand almost immediately after Oli had given his demand. I kind of wished I had the kind of persuasion power he held. I was a bit worried about who exactly was reaching for me. I was slightly relieved to see that it was a girl and not one of the many very intimidating guys.

She was a tiny thing, smaller than my 5’4”, with hair so blonde it was almost white and a hoop at her nose. She looked sort of familiar but I couldn’t place her. She was smiling and it was hard to be totally afraid of her. “Hurry, better get yeh away from them blokes ‘fore they pull yeh into the pit. Bet tha’s not yer idea of a good time,” she yelled over the beginning of another song. She nudged me playfully. My eyes were wide, nervous. “Oh, yeh poor thing, I think Oli’s got yeh right traumatized.”

I nodded. “A bit, yeah.”

“O’reight, let’s get yeh a drink then, love,” the girl said.

I shook my head, ready to protest. I knew another drink would only be in my best interest if I wanted my mother to ground me for the rest of the summer. But the alcohol already in my system told me the only interest I should invest myself in was fun and I was having fun, embarrassment and all. So I let her drag me back to the bar. Beaming somewhat dumbly, I leaned over close to her ear “I’m Anna!”

It wasn’t quite as loud by the bar but we still had to shout to be heard. “I know!” She responded loudly. “I’m Gracie.” As she said it, I recalled meeting her at a party once. “My boy is Matt. ‘E’s up there on drums.” She looked up at the stage, rolling her eyes. “I’ve seen yeh ‘round. Yer Tom’s girlfriend, yeah?” She bellowed something at the bartender, holding two fingers up at him.

I shook my head. “No… No, Tom’s my bestie.” I debated if bestie was the right word. Did that make him sound gay? His brother seemed to think so. But I knew Tom was definitely most certainly not gay. He just didn’t have any interest in me. Or I in him. So we were friends. I wanted people to understand that.

“Oh,” she nodded and shrugged. “So you and Oli then…”

“Wha?” I was confused as to what her blasé implications were. It was hilarious to me that anyone would even use Oli and I in the same sentence.

The bartender sat two shot glasses in front of us. My mind barely registered that this was probably a bad idea.

She didn’t seem to realize why I was puzzled. “’S perfectly o’reight ef yeh two are doin’ whatever… Jus’ watch yer back. Tha’ one’s a bit o’ a handful. Absolute trouble.” There was no doubt in my mind about that. But I was certain that I wouldn’t have to deal with Oli’s trouble, no matter how much I wanted to. “There yeh go.” Gracie pressed a shot glass full of amber liquid against my fingers.

“Wha’ is it?” I looked at it hesitantly. But secretly, I really desperately wanted to drink it. Like drinking it would make me suddenly belong or something.

“’S a bloody surprise. No worries. ‘S not poison.” She smirked wickedly and I liked her already. I was feeling so goddamn mischievous and it felt good. Strange. But good.

As Gracie and I continued drinking together at the back of the club, I was considering something. Granted, it was that sort of babbling drunken thinking that seems really profound at the time, but in the long run probably isn’t. At any rate, I was thinking of the way my life was. Not particularly bad or miserable. Sure, I had bouts of teenage angst but Christ, everyone had those. I just didn’t do anything but sit in my room or Tom’s room or at the park. I never got in trouble. I never even did anything that would come close to getting me in trouble. Something about that irked me.

Shouldn’t life be exciting and chaotic? Shouldn’t the world look better when you’re young? The way I was seeing it, the world just looked like a cloudy day. Not raining but not sunny either.

Tom and I had planned to leave with one of their friends shortly after the band had played. But after the set, Oli appeared at the bar before Tom. He threw an arm around me and one around Gracie. “Ladies!”

Gracie pushed him away. “Oy, get off, yeh smell disgustin’.” She was right. He reeked of sweat and vomit. I shrugged his arm off of me. But only because he made me uncomfortable.

He grinned wildly. “I just puked all over Curtis’ feet backstage.”

“Oh, sick,” Gracie said with a look of sheer repulsion.

“Them kids are lucky I waited until I were finished on stage.” He turned to me and narrowed his eyes. “Do yeh ever fuckin’ smile, Savanna?”

“Wha? O’ course I smile,” I responded.

“Aren’ yeh havin’ a good time?”

“Yeah, I’m havin’ a good time.” I looked down at my feet. “But I’m a bit drunk and I think ef I do anythin but sit here, I might look like a mess,” I admitted.

“Yeh say tha’ like lookin’ a mess is a bad thing.”

I laughed. “Well, not all o’ us can make it look like a bleedin’ artform like Oli Sykes can.” I was fighting back a smile. Was this flirting? I didn’t know.

“Don’t encourage him, doll,” Gracie instructed drolly.

“Anna!” Tom’s voice called out. I turned and he waved as he approached. He was clearly no longer unhappy with me. He had that sort of goofy look on his face that I really liked. Unfortunately, I knew, this wouldn’t last long if he found out I’d continued drinking. Tom was far enough away for me to pinch Oli’s arm quickly and shoot him a pleading glance. He didn’t miss a beat; he understood right away exactly what I was getting at. He nodded and turned away; he was leaning most of his weight onto the bar, not able to stand very well on his own. How had he performed? “Annie, love, I’m sorry,” he said with a frown as he made it to where I stood. “I didn’ know I’d be off this whole time. I know yeh hate bein’—“

“’S fine.” I was short with my statement, careful not to blow my putrid breath towards him.

He mistook my briefness as anger. His bright eyes widened and he gave me his best impersonation of a puppy. “Forgive me?”

I broke into giggles. Under normal, sober circumstances, I do not giggle. I tried to play it off. “Yeh look silly when yeh do tha.”

His smile returned. “I know.” He still hadn’t noticed. Maybe I could get away with it, I thought. “Yeh ready to go?”

I nodded.

“Yeh gonna come with us, Ol?” Tom directed his attention towards his brother. “Or ‘s there a bird yer stickin’ ‘round for?”

I really definitely did not want there to be a bird. The school girl crush was only growing.

“I think…” Oli said through half lidded eyes. He was struggling to string a sentence together, it seemed. “I think I’d prob’ly better go with yeh…” He looked proud to have finished his thought.

“Aye, I think so too,” Tom stated. “But ef yeh pass out, I’m leavin’ yeh on the front porch. I can’t be draggin’ yeh into bed every night.”

I stifled a snort. Right at that moment, not laughing obnoxiously was kind of the hardest thing I’d ever tried to do. It was like really wanting to scratch an itch but not being allowed to.

“Do yeh need help walkin’ or something?” Tom asked his brother.

“No, should be o’reight.”

“Then let’s go… Liam was o’ready outside.” Tom motioned us along.

Gracie wiggled her fingers at me. “Be good, girlie.”

“See yeh ‘round?” I framed it as a question because she was really pretty cool and I didn’t have a lot of friends that were girls.

“I hope so.”

All I had to do was make it to the car without incident and it would be fairly smooth sailing from then on. If I could focus on walking straight and not saying anything, I would be perfectly okay. Oli seemed to be far worse than I was; I hoped this would distract any attention away from me.

Except that I tripped over a beer bottle on the floor.

The tripping lead to falling which lead to laughing. Lots of laughing. More than lots. Like a ridiculous amount of laughing. Like totally conspicuous laughing.

I was so busted.

Tom turned around in slow motion. No more goofy grin. No more puppy dog face. At first, there was just confusion. Then Oli started laughing too. And Tom knew exactly what was happening. His face changed rapidly into anger. “Oh fuck.”

I’d put my face in my hands, half in shame and half to hide the god awful giggling. “Sorry,” I mumbled from behind my fingers.

“Was it really so fuckin’ hard to have jus’ two sodding drinks?” Tom’s voice was raised. He never raised his voice with me. We didn’t fight. That just didn’t happen. Sometimes, like earlier in the night, one of us would get a bit frustrated. But it would blow over as quickly as it had occured. “Christ, Anna… Here.” He reached his hands down towards me and I shook my head.

“Fuck, Tommy, I’m sorry.” I suddenly couldn’t remember why I thought it was such a good idea to hang out with Oli that night. Glamour? Danger?

“Give me yer hands,” he demanded. I stuck my arms out in front of me, careful to not look at him. He took a hold of them and yanked me up. I was off balance and stumbled into him. That didn’t help my case any. “How many ‘ave yeh ‘ad?”

“I dunno?” I knew that I’d had four beers and two shots but I couldn’t tell him that. I wondered if it would help to tell him that I’d also had a bottle of water right before Bring Me the Horizon’s set had ended, to sober me up a little. Probably not.

“Right, you dunno,” he scoffed. “The one night tha’ I were specifically instructed to keep yeh outta trouble… Any other night I wouldn’ fuckin’ care! ‘No, Mrs. Harvey, ‘s not like that at Oli’s shows. Home before midnight in perfect condition. I promise.’ Jesus, Anna, yeh know I ‘ad to beg her ta let yeh come out. Argh.”

“Hey now,” Oli spoke up, half leaning on the wall with his eyes still heavy. “Go easy on the lass.”

“Oh and don’t yeh fuckin’ start, Oliver. This is yer fuckin’ fault.”

I went to deny that statement. “’S not Oli’s fault. I wanted—“ But he kept tearing into his brother.

“As though yeh aren’t enough of a bad influence on yer mates, yeh gotta go for mine too, yeh fuckin’ sod.” He groaned and turned back to me. Disappointment was covering his generally sweet face. “How can yeh be so irresponsible?”

Offended, I pouted. “I’m bein’ plenty ‘sponsible. Yer jus’ a fuckin’ party pooper.”

He shook his head. “How am I supposed ta take yeh home like this? I can’t in good conscience watch yeh walk into yer house piss drunk.”

“Sure, yeh can,” I said sourly. “Jus’ look the other fuckin’ way.” I knew that I would later regret my adoption of this harsh tone. But just then, his poor attitude was outweighing his best friend status.