Right Now, I'm Anyone's

Georgia left me to make her way to the back rooms, in order to get some things organised for the coming week. I carried on to the main room of Flux and spotted Zoë behind the bar, bending over and lifting crates of alcohol onto the countertop.

“Alright, Leila?” she called as I made my way over to her. “Seen your design, it’s brilliant.”

“Thanks, Zo,” I smiled. “Want some help?”

“If you like.”

I started emptying the crate she had lifted onto the bar top, putting a few on display and some others in one of the fridges under the bar. Zoë and I weren’t what you’d call friends, not really. I mean, we’d say hello to each other and chat when we saw one another, but none of us were too bothered about being closer.

She was laidback and over the top at the same time, with her electric blue and white blonde hair, more often than not, with the underside shaved right down to her scalp. She pencilled on her eyebrows, had her ears stretched to about an inch in diameter and more body piercings and tattoos than I could count. She always wore baggy jeans and her shirt was always just a little bit too short, showing off her flawless flat stomach and the four dermal anchors in her hips; two on each.

We made idle talk while I helped her. If anything about this place looked good, it was most definitely the bar. The whole place had this techno-underground-metal look about it, so the bar was basically a slab of black marble, running the length of the room. The wall behind it was covered in reflective glass, with another countertop against that, holding a couple of fridges, bins and areas for mixing drinks if we needed. At even intervals in the mirror wall, there were columns of dark grey stone, where we hung photographs.

Most of them were taken by the club photographer, mainly of the staff and members of the bands that had played here. In my year here, I’d met so many of my favourite bands. There were pictures of me and Zoë with Mark Heylmun and Alex Lopez, one of Georgia and Kele Okereke, a couple more of me and people like Jared Followill and Adam Lazzara. I smiled whenever I looked at them.

Working in places like this was, quite frankly, amazing. You got to meet so many people; people you might idolise, people that have made a difference to the world, to you. It’s all pretty immense, when you stop to think about it. The other photos were mainly of Maddox and Callum with other bands, Maddox and Callum pissing about and of Mr. Price with a couple of bands.

“Just about done here,” Zoë said, smiling and breaking me from the memory of Maddox and Callum ambushing Rob Swire for a drink after his set, but settling for a photograph. Zoë tucked the leftover crate under her arm and made her way to the exit behind the bar, probably going for a crafty smoke while John wasn’t around.

I exited the bar area and made my way over to the extended stage. Now it was time for my own work to be done. I hauled a couple of amps away from the wall, where we kept them to make some room. A couple were faulty, and it was my job to sort those out. I kneeled down and took the back panel off.

“Hey, shithead!” Someone shouted from behind me. I felt whoever it was before I saw them, because they jumped onto my back before I could turn. I craned my head to the right and saw Maddox, sitting atop my lower back and smiling innocently down at me.

“Happy birthday.” I scowled at him and shoved him off of me, standing up and brushing all the dust from the stage off my shirt and jeans. He pulled a sad face at me and I softened.

“Thank you, Maddox,” I laughed, hugging him. Maddox was the one around here who dealt with the band’s riders – if you don’t know what that it, it’s basically just a list of things that artists or bands want for their dressing rooms before they perform – and most of the time, when I had nothing better to do with myself, I helped him with them. It was his way of introducing me to my favourite people before everybody else.

“You got any idea who’s on the line-up for John’s thing?” I asked as I kneeled back down to fiddle with the wires of the faulty amp, while Maddox sat himself on top of it and swung his legs like a little kid. I swear he has the mentality of a six year old. Him, plus Callum is never good, since Callum’s normally a bit worse.

“I’ve got no idea y’know,” he said, his feet beating the speaker of the amp. “I have some ideas, of course, and I heard somebody mention an unsigned band called Eye Witness. Not a lot else.”

“Never even heard of them. What are your ideas then?”

He smirked at me and laughed. “Not telling you, because if I’m right – and I probably am – you’ll love me forever for introducing you to them.”

“Don’t forget, I already love you for Pete Doherty,” I laughed. “Unless it’s Leighton Antelman or Brian Molko, you have absolutely no chance of me loving you even more.”

“We’ll see,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “You really think Price could afford Placebo?”

“Not a chance. Ever.”

Maddox laughed and told me he had to go and fix up a couple of things; place some orders for a few of the riders. He said they were things not typically found on the shelf of your local off-license or Tesco. I shrugged and waved my hand at him in goodbye. It took me a good half an hour to finish fixing one amp.

The rest of this week was certainly going to drag by.

*****

“Everybody! Over here to me, please!” You could hear John’s voice from the corridors at the back of the building. I made my way back to the stage, walking onto that and jumping off the edge, then continued across the main floor to where he stood.

“I have an announcement to make,” he said, once everybody had gathered around. “A couple of the bands playing next week’s festival will be arriving between tomorrow afternoon and Friday morning, to get accustomed to the area. I would be very grateful if you all kept up your friendly ways and made them comfortable here.”

John stood there for a couple of minutes, beaming between all of us before telling us we could get back to work. I don’t know why he had to tell us to be friendly; when it came to the music industry, and the people in it, we were always kind. Before I could get away, John called me back...well, he said “Lila, come here a moment.”

“Yes, Mr. Price?”

“I’d like you to help Maddox with the riders as of Friday,” he said, keeping his eyes down on his clipboard.

“No problem,” I said. “I was just wondering, what’s happening with the fliers?”

“Oh,” John said, looking up at me. “I’m afraid I’ve already authorised another one, I’m sorry.”

I knew he wasn’t sorry. I don’t mean to sound big-headed or anything, but the design he authorised, was probably shit. I stomped back over to the stage once he’d turned to leave, keeping myself to myself for the rest of my day, messing with things that didn’t need to be messed with.

Gary, one of the other lighting techs, tried to get me to tell him what was wrong with me, but I just kept my mouth shut and carried on making adjustments to the overhead lights while he held the rickety ladder I was perched on. He couldn’t get up there, because the ladder was too old and wouldn’t hold his weight.

I was wandering around the stage, looking for something, anything else to tinker with to fill in the last ten minutes I had before I could go home and fume for a bit longer. I felt somebody smack my arse sharply, and I was ready to just about rip off their head. I swivelled around and saw Georgia standing there, with Maddox sniggering conspicuously behind her – obviously, he smacked my arse. She had her coat on, and preceded to hand mine to me.

“Come on, quittin’ time,” she said, smiling and grabbing my wrist once I’d got my coat on. She noticed something was up and put her arm around my shoulder, giving me a light squeeze. She knew me better than to just ask straight out what was wrong. Maddox jumped around happily ahead of us, like a little puppy dog. Maddox led the way back out of the staff entrance, where Dimitri – true to his word – was waiting in his car.