Status: finished!!!
The Best in Town
Gonna Party Like It's Yo' Birthday
8:00am on the dot and my phone was already buzzing with hurried excitement on the opaque-black night stand by my head.
“Fucking hellllllll.”
I rolled onto my side, brushing the sleep from my eyes with the back of my hand, before reaching the same hand out for my iPhone. 56 unread messages, everyone from the ‘prophets lads, to my boyfriend and his band, to Kids In Glass Houses, to my mum and various others, all reading some sort of “Happy birthday! X”. Thirty-five, oh boy, Sean’s going to have a field day with this one.
It took me another half hour to finally heave myself out of bed and make an attempt at looking presentable. Sean was having a small party at his later on, only going to be my lads and his lads. Easy enough. I decided on a white v-neck, black jeans, and a black blazer-esque jacket. It was either that or nothing.
After the oh-so-tough act of getting me, Ian Watkins, to look hot as ever, I took it upon myself to make a little snack before I had to leave for Sean’s. As I was in the middle of throwing some shitty turkey lunchmeat and cheese sandwich together I heard a lock click open and a door swing.
“Iaaaaaaan!”
A voice sang awfully cheerfully, considering the time. That could only mean one thing, it was Sean, and that he’d let himself in with his spare key. I didn't have much time to wipe the bread crumbs from my face and set the sandwich down before he practically came skipping into the kitchen. He hoisted himself onto the island countertop, lifting his index finger to signal me to come over.
“Hi, babyboy.” I spoke, resting my hands on his tiny hips. He kicked his legs around my waist, tying his arms around my neck as if they were shoelaces, enveloping me into his perfect sent. Sean smelled like mint chocolate with just a hint of honey. It’s a beautiful sent, especially for such a beautiful person. I hastily moved my arms to the backs of his thighs to support his weight, carrying him about the kitchen as if he were three.
“Be careful you don’t break a hip or something, babe.”
Sean teased, breath hot against my neck, as he was keeping his face buried in the crook of my neck. I loosened my grip from his thighs, miming dropping him. His cute little hazel eyes shot wide open and the tight grip he’d adopted around my neck almost cut off my circulation.
“Easy baby, I was just playing.” I moved my hands to his waist, setting him back down on the checkered black and white linoleum floor. He leaned up on his toes to press a giant kiss to the center of my forehead, swiping my hand from my slide and tugging on it gently.
“Come on, birthday boy, it’s party time.” Within two minutes we were sat in Sean’s car, he on the driver’s side, and I on the passengers. It smelled a lot like him, and had that hint of new-car-smell, despite Sean owning if for a little under 6 years. Sean stuck his key in the ignition, and turned it swiftly. And thus begun our 20 minute drive from Pontypridd to Merthyr.
We were driving down Sardis road, I had my face pressed against the cool glass, carefully observing all of the shops, schools, and parks that’ve been part of my life for the last 35 years. I remembered how badly Mike and I wanted to leave here in high school. Back then it was so boring, the same shit everyday. It had all of us in a depressed funk back in fourth year. I remember how we used to walk out to Merthyr bridge some days and just sit there, fantasizing about how our lives would be once we made it out of here. I guess that’s why we formed lostprophets anyway, to get out. And hey, we did. Looking back on it now; we were all really fucking dumb at sixteen. It feels good to be back, especially after being away on so many tours for so long.
Sean rested his hand on my knee, rubbing small circles into it to bring me back from my daydream.
“Ian, what’s wrong?” he spoke in a timid little voice, afraid of what I was going to say for some reason. I shook my head quickly, placing my hand over his.
“Nothing, I was just thinking about how much me and Mike used to hate this place.”
I gave his hand a light squeeze, finally realizing we were at his place and boy, was it loud. From the driveway I could hear Stu screaming at Rhys to pour him another jagerbomb. Oh Jesus Christ, they’re not all drinking already, are they? I heaved myself out of the passenger side door, walking around to the other side of the car to open Sean’s for him. Once we were inside I was greeted by the ten drunken men. All screaming, or slurring, some sort of ‘happy birthday’. Sean took a seat on his sofa, as I made my rounds, catching up with the absolutely pissed members of The Blackout. A few minutes later Jamie suggested that everyone play karaoke, what a bad idea. Once they managed to get the mics plugged into the console, Snoz and Lee were fighting over which song to start with. Ultimately they ended up deciding on Dead Or Alive by Bon Jovi. I took a seat next to my boyfriend to watch the hilarity that would no doubt ensue.
A minute or so into the song, Jocko was lying on his back on the hardwood floor screaming “WANTTTEEDDD WAAAAANTTTEDDD DEAD OR AAALIVEEEEE”, Stu was laughing so hard at, what seemed to be himself, that he was hunched over, Jamie was dancing to the beat, Mike was in the kitchen with Rhys; getting another drink, Lee was air-guitaring along, Gavin and Snoz were so drunk they were singing Don’t Stop Believing, and Bob was sulking in the corner.
Sean was still sat next to me, laughing so hard at our friends I thought he peed himself. Once the song ended, Sean sat back against the couch, burrowing his head into my side and swung his legs up and across my lap. I bent my head down to press quick kisses to the top of the small blonde’s head, keeping my arms securely around his frame.
“Hey, I love you.” I spoke against his hair. He moved his hand to sit at the skin of my hip, venturing his index finger in a little further to rub at the ink of my gun. The boy treated them like they were his prized possessions.
“Mmm, but I love you more,” Sean smiled wide, tipping his chin up to attack my entire face with sloppy kisses, “and I hope you’re having as much fun as the rest of ‘em. Once they’re semi-sober we’ll have cake.”
“Fucking hellllllll.”
I rolled onto my side, brushing the sleep from my eyes with the back of my hand, before reaching the same hand out for my iPhone. 56 unread messages, everyone from the ‘prophets lads, to my boyfriend and his band, to Kids In Glass Houses, to my mum and various others, all reading some sort of “Happy birthday! X”. Thirty-five, oh boy, Sean’s going to have a field day with this one.
It took me another half hour to finally heave myself out of bed and make an attempt at looking presentable. Sean was having a small party at his later on, only going to be my lads and his lads. Easy enough. I decided on a white v-neck, black jeans, and a black blazer-esque jacket. It was either that or nothing.
After the oh-so-tough act of getting me, Ian Watkins, to look hot as ever, I took it upon myself to make a little snack before I had to leave for Sean’s. As I was in the middle of throwing some shitty turkey lunchmeat and cheese sandwich together I heard a lock click open and a door swing.
“Iaaaaaaan!”
A voice sang awfully cheerfully, considering the time. That could only mean one thing, it was Sean, and that he’d let himself in with his spare key. I didn't have much time to wipe the bread crumbs from my face and set the sandwich down before he practically came skipping into the kitchen. He hoisted himself onto the island countertop, lifting his index finger to signal me to come over.
“Hi, babyboy.” I spoke, resting my hands on his tiny hips. He kicked his legs around my waist, tying his arms around my neck as if they were shoelaces, enveloping me into his perfect sent. Sean smelled like mint chocolate with just a hint of honey. It’s a beautiful sent, especially for such a beautiful person. I hastily moved my arms to the backs of his thighs to support his weight, carrying him about the kitchen as if he were three.
“Be careful you don’t break a hip or something, babe.”
Sean teased, breath hot against my neck, as he was keeping his face buried in the crook of my neck. I loosened my grip from his thighs, miming dropping him. His cute little hazel eyes shot wide open and the tight grip he’d adopted around my neck almost cut off my circulation.
“Easy baby, I was just playing.” I moved my hands to his waist, setting him back down on the checkered black and white linoleum floor. He leaned up on his toes to press a giant kiss to the center of my forehead, swiping my hand from my slide and tugging on it gently.
“Come on, birthday boy, it’s party time.” Within two minutes we were sat in Sean’s car, he on the driver’s side, and I on the passengers. It smelled a lot like him, and had that hint of new-car-smell, despite Sean owning if for a little under 6 years. Sean stuck his key in the ignition, and turned it swiftly. And thus begun our 20 minute drive from Pontypridd to Merthyr.
We were driving down Sardis road, I had my face pressed against the cool glass, carefully observing all of the shops, schools, and parks that’ve been part of my life for the last 35 years. I remembered how badly Mike and I wanted to leave here in high school. Back then it was so boring, the same shit everyday. It had all of us in a depressed funk back in fourth year. I remember how we used to walk out to Merthyr bridge some days and just sit there, fantasizing about how our lives would be once we made it out of here. I guess that’s why we formed lostprophets anyway, to get out. And hey, we did. Looking back on it now; we were all really fucking dumb at sixteen. It feels good to be back, especially after being away on so many tours for so long.
Sean rested his hand on my knee, rubbing small circles into it to bring me back from my daydream.
“Ian, what’s wrong?” he spoke in a timid little voice, afraid of what I was going to say for some reason. I shook my head quickly, placing my hand over his.
“Nothing, I was just thinking about how much me and Mike used to hate this place.”
I gave his hand a light squeeze, finally realizing we were at his place and boy, was it loud. From the driveway I could hear Stu screaming at Rhys to pour him another jagerbomb. Oh Jesus Christ, they’re not all drinking already, are they? I heaved myself out of the passenger side door, walking around to the other side of the car to open Sean’s for him. Once we were inside I was greeted by the ten drunken men. All screaming, or slurring, some sort of ‘happy birthday’. Sean took a seat on his sofa, as I made my rounds, catching up with the absolutely pissed members of The Blackout. A few minutes later Jamie suggested that everyone play karaoke, what a bad idea. Once they managed to get the mics plugged into the console, Snoz and Lee were fighting over which song to start with. Ultimately they ended up deciding on Dead Or Alive by Bon Jovi. I took a seat next to my boyfriend to watch the hilarity that would no doubt ensue.
A minute or so into the song, Jocko was lying on his back on the hardwood floor screaming “WANTTTEEDDD WAAAAANTTTEDDD DEAD OR AAALIVEEEEE”, Stu was laughing so hard at, what seemed to be himself, that he was hunched over, Jamie was dancing to the beat, Mike was in the kitchen with Rhys; getting another drink, Lee was air-guitaring along, Gavin and Snoz were so drunk they were singing Don’t Stop Believing, and Bob was sulking in the corner.
Sean was still sat next to me, laughing so hard at our friends I thought he peed himself. Once the song ended, Sean sat back against the couch, burrowing his head into my side and swung his legs up and across my lap. I bent my head down to press quick kisses to the top of the small blonde’s head, keeping my arms securely around his frame.
“Hey, I love you.” I spoke against his hair. He moved his hand to sit at the skin of my hip, venturing his index finger in a little further to rub at the ink of my gun. The boy treated them like they were his prized possessions.
“Mmm, but I love you more,” Sean smiled wide, tipping his chin up to attack my entire face with sloppy kisses, “and I hope you’re having as much fun as the rest of ‘em. Once they’re semi-sober we’ll have cake.”