Darling I'm a Hurricane

The beauty of gig night was the fact that there were less drunken idiots packed into Heaven and Hell. Tonight’s gig was a fourteen plus, meaning ninety nine point nine per cent of the audience was made up of secondary school kids, all of whom wore a uniform of skinny jeans and brightly coloured t-shirts. They all wore too much eyeliner and had choppy, angular hair cuts, suffocating in hairspray. The worst thing about gig night meant that all the bratty kids rushed to the bar, demanding alcohol, despite the fact they were only fifteen and didn’t even possess a fake form of ID. That, and the deafening music meant that not all drink orders could be clearly heard across the wooden bar top.

“I want a vodka and coke!” A girl of about fourteen cried at Adele. She had a ten pound note clasped in her hand. Adele raised her eyebrow at the girl. Her eyes were outlined in many layers of black eye make up, making it look like someone had punched her in both eyes. Her hair was sticking up at all angles and Adele noted that it had faded bright pink streaks hidden within it.

“You hand over your ID, you can have vodka and coke, you can’t hand over your ID, it’ll just be coke,” Adele said, firmly. Her smart tone caused the girl to flail. She waved her arms and her bottom lip quivered. She chewed down on it hard, before shaking her head.

“Forget it!” She cried, stuffing her money back into her pocket, before sauntering over to the t-shirt table.

Krystal chuckled. “Nice!”

Adele looked around, glancing at the girl seated on the only bar stool. She wore a white top, covered with a bright red cardigan. The colour of danger. A slouchy leather handbag sat on the bar close to her. Adele watched her reach into the bag, producing a long sequin covered purse. It glinted in the dim lighting of the bar. She dug around, before pulling out a crumpled note, dropping the purse back into her bag. She looked up to catch one of the girls’ attention. Krystal noticed her first and sauntered over.

“What can I get you?” She asked, chirpily.

“A glass of wine, please,” the girl requested, her voice brimming with confidence.

Krystal let out a bark of bitter laughter. She shook her head. “I’ll need to see your ID if you want that.”

The girl scowled, digging around in her bag, pulling out a weathered looking passport, which she handed Krystal with a sarcastic smile on her face. Krystal rolled her eyes, flicking to the back of the tiny book. She read the tiny print, informing her that the girl was born in 1991, thus making her legal.

Adele wandered over, watching the over excited crowd bounce up at down, waving their arms in the air, smacking into each other, all battling to get to the front barrier. Bouncers standing at the front were handing out bottles of water, encouraging the people getting crushed to drink.

“Drink or faint, or what?” Krystal breathed, nodding towards the crowd. One of the bouncers had fished a skinny girl out, her head dropped, her eyes were closed.

Adele raised her eyebrows, watching Krystal hand over a small glass of white wine to the girl she had questioned. The girl took it gratefully and took a large gulp, looking out at the crowd. She scoffed.

“What?” Krystal asked the stranger, her tone rude and impatient.

The girl turned to them, facing them full on. She moved her bag aside, resting her elbows on the bar top, her chin in her palms. “I’m bored.”

“Then go home.”

“I can’t go home.”
“Why?”

“Krystal!” Adele hissed. Her eyes widened at her cousin. She was a year younger than Adele, and a lot more confident. She questioned anyone, and despite only just being eighteen herself, she wasn’t afraid to demand proof of identification from anyone she came across. Even those who were obviously decades beyond eighteen. So it came as no surprise that Krystal would question the mysterious girl sitting before them. She was the only one not getting involved in the crush, or simply standing on the side lines. She sung no lyrics or applauded the band. It seemed strange she was here.

“Did you bring your little sister or something?” Krystal asked, trying to coax an answer out of the girl.

She shook her head, her long fringe flicking into her eyes, she pushed it away, before opening her mouth to speak. “No. The drummer is my boyfriend. I had a moment of madness and agreed to go on tour with them. I didn’t think that would mean that we didn’t get to shower for days on end and have to stink and it’s just disgusting. I love those boys to death, but god, they’re filthy.”

Adele chuckled. That description felt so familiar. “I’ve been there, done that.”

“Got the t-shirt,” Krystal smiled. She spotted a teenage boy waiting at the bar, and drifted across to him, ready to demand proof of age.

“I’m Nina,” the mysterious stranger took a small sip of her wine.

“Adele.”

Nina took another sip of her wine, before looking out at the crowd, over their heads to the stage. The drummer, his name still unknown to Adele caught her eye and sent a wink and a smile her way. The crowd had stopped bouncing, all coming to a rest as the singer began talking into the microphone, explaining the meaning behind the next song.

“So basically this song is for anyone that’s ever found their boyfriend or girlfriend in bed with some slut,” he concluded, before the guitar started up and he began to sing.

It had been the first time Adele had the chance to properly listen. The night had consisted of arguing with underage teenagers, pouring drinks for those who were legal and listening to Krystal bitch about outfits, make up, hairstyles and then gush about the boys she was torn between. Chris and Max. Two guitarists, one loud and obnoxious like she, one quiet and reserved, the type she was always attracted to.

“They’re pretty good, I mean, he clearly effed up that little solo then, but apart from that,” Adele said, more to herself than anyone else, but Nina turned and looked at her.

“You play?” She asked.

Adele shrugged. “I used to. I still do the checks and stuff for nights like this, but I pretty much quite piano and hung up my guitar months ago.”

Nina nodded. “How come? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Adele grabbed a cloth and began wiping the already spotless bar. Something, anything to stop herself having to look Nina in the eyes. She hated reciting this story. It was the one that cut the deepest, it hurt her the most. She had shoved the memory into the darkest corner of her memory, hoping she’d never have to speak of it again. But here she was, her mouth about to open, to pour her heart out, when all the lights went out. The room was pitch black.

Girls in the crowd all screeched, clinging to each other, sweaty hands gripping onto others. Adele felt under the bar for the emergency torches. She managed to find one and flicked it on. Making her way around the bar she shined the bright light on the crowd and pointed towards the door. “Everyone out!” She called at the top of her lungs, desperate to be heard over the chatter and screams.

“Why?” A girl standing nearby asked, curiously. “The show’s not over yet, is it?”

Another two lights shone close to Adele and she heard Krystal’s voice, loud, clear and confident. “No, but health and safety states we can’t have you in here while there’s a power cut. If the band can’t reschedule we’ll do what we can to give you all refunds if you want one.” She fed them the lies they wanted to here, and began ushering people towards the doors.

Nina fought against the current of the crowd, making her way towards the low stage., calling out the names of each band member, forcing them to respond of their whereabouts and if they were alright or not.

It took mere minutes for the crowd to be evacuated. The room felt emptier, hollow. It was quiet at last, the darkness seemed safer. Adele followed the light of Krystal’s torch towards the stage.

“Is everyone alright?” She asked.

“No,” came a muffled voice.

Nina scoffed, shining her torch towards Max, who was sitting on the floor, clutching his ankle. “I think it’s broken,” he winced.

“Don’t be such a drama queen, it isn’t broken, it’s probably just sprained, you’ll be fine,” Nina frowned at him. The rest of the boys were sitting on the edge of the stage, all waiting, wondering who’s fault it was that the power had cut out.

Max frowned at Nina, before attempting to bring himself to his feet and almost falling back down again. He winced, crying out in pain, before plopping gently back down onto the stage. “It’s bloody broken, Nina!”

Ever the one for drama, Krystal pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialled for an ambulance. She babbled to the operator, quick to explain what had happened and the potential injuries that had happened. She snapped her phone shut and shone her torch onto Max. “Won’t be long.” She climbed up on the stage to sit beside him, clicking off her torch as she did so.

“Where could we go to get cheap beer and greasy food?” Matt asked, looking at Adele.

She inhaled deeply, trying to think of decent places that surrounded Heaven and Hell. To be honest, there weren’t many. Not after nine PM anyway. “I’m not sure about cheap and cheerful, every where’s a bit dodgy round here.”

“Why don’t we just stay here?” Nina’s boyfriend asked. He looked around at his friends. “We’ll have to make sure Max gets to the hospital okay anyway, and -”

“I’m going with him!” Krystal chimed up from the darkness.

“- okay, and if there’s no where round here that’s decent, well, we might as well.”

“But there’s been a power cut, p-ow-er cut. Damn it, Dan, I’m sure your brain cells fall out of your ears when you drum,” one of the others Adele hadn’t been introduced to, said, smartly. He rolled his eyes and rested his chin in his palm.

“We could stay here. It’d just be drinking in the dark,” she informed them.

“That’s settled then, see I’m smarter than you think,” Dan nodded.

The other boy sighed, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes. “What a night this has been.”