Collision

Over the next month I realized just how boring recording an album could be.

I found myself caught up in the whirl of things happening. I’m not sure when I’d stopped finding it so bizarre, but the whole situation was and I was pretty sure it was real so perhaps this was just how my life was meant to turn out. I’d never thought about it before now, but the chances of anything like this happening (including meeting Gerard) were about zilch. Maybe there was a god out there who liked playing games, and by chance it was our group he’d or she’d decided to pick on. I had no clue.

After another meeting with an A&R guy from 336 Records it was decided that SAYF would indeed to be signed with the company, but only after Alex’s eighteenth birthday had gone past as to avoid all the legal difficulties. So, instead, they pushed the band to start recording as soon as possible, providing a budget which I considered insane but Alex assured me it was actually quite little. All I knew is that suddenly all Alex’s weekends were spent talking with managers and producers and songwriters (when they’d first suggested Alex talk to a songwriter about some of the lyrics, she’d had a major bitch at them, but she’d eventually come round to the idea — it probably helped that she considered the guy drafted in as a songwriter a ’major hottie’) and I had to fight to drag her away from her constant meetings with the others.

Finally, after much hesitation, I’d accepted Alex’s idea of going to see them in the studio and keep them company, even if it was with slight anxiety — what the hell was I meant to do? I knew they’d already decided the tracks to put on the album, and recorded more than half — Finley had complained several times that he was sick of playing the same chords over and over again and he missed their jamming sessions. But they were insanely proud of the work they’d produced, and I was sure it would be damn good despite the fact they’d denied me the right to hear it whilst it was still unfinished.

I’d found a seat in the corner of the resting and kitchenette room, and I was sitting in there peacefully, texting Janey and trying to catch up with some work, when all four of them burst in. Finley had his green hair pulled back into a ponytail and glittery eye-shadow on and I really didn’t want to know how that had come about. Jack had a pink lipstick in one hand and was waving it in Finley’s general direction, yelling something about ’glitter’ and ’pretty princesses’. After taking in the scene with a brief glance, I sighed, shutting my laptop with a snap. I knew working had become a lost cause now.

Alex was laughing so hard her breath was coming in short, wheezy gasps, and Red had a huge grin stretching from ear to ear.

“What the hell?” I said, staring as Jack launched himself at Finley and they both went tumbling to the ground with a thud.

In between laughing and gasping for air, Alex tried to explain it. “Oh my god. Fin— Finley was saying how he could rock the drag queen look and Jack dared him and then he stole my makeup bag and he’s been chasing Finley around for like thirty minutes trying to get him to stay still long enough for him to finish.”

Jack had Finley pinned now and was drawing hearts on his cheeks with the lipstick, laughing pretty hard himself. Finley was grinning despite the fact he was struggling to get back up, his legs flailing around comically like a turtle. Finally, I stood up and pushed Jack off Finley, grabbing hold of his wrist to haul him up to his feet again. He thanked me, and then darted out of the door with Jack in hot pursuit. I peered out just in time to see Finley go skidding around a corner and smash into a wall, which set Alex off into another round of manic laughter.

~*~

The album wasn’t finished by Alex’s birthday, but that was to be expected. Still, it didn’t stop them from breaking out the champagne in celebration, even if none of them even really liked it. I wanted to plan a huge bash for her birthday party, but Alex had instantly shot down my idea in favour of a sleepover with Finley, Janey, Jack, Red and I watching cheesy movies and stuffing our faces full of sweets and chocolates. We even managed to give Finley and Jack a make-over, which included facemasks (“Tastes like strawberries...” “You’re not meant to EAT it, Fin!”) and painting their fingernails bright colours.

In the middle of the night I found myself snuggled up against Janey and under two duvets as we watched yet another romcom movie, a half-eaten bowl of caramel popcorn behind us. Finley was watching the movie, with Alex, but they were the only two. I was half asleep, Jack and Red were bored to death, and Janey was too busy doodling marker drawings up and down every piece of skin she could find — including mine. I now had a whole sleeve of sharpie tattoos including a cute little blob thing with eyes that Janey had nicknamed Munster.

Still, despite the lack of energy, I was in a good mood, which might have had more to do with the fact I was hanging out with five of the best people on this earth, there was plenty of treats to go around, and alcohol was in free supply.

“Pass the chocolate,” Janey demanded, reaching out a hand to Finley. He didn’t look away from the screen, but groped around and grabbed hold of a bowl of Malteasers and passed them to her. He was really into the movie for some strange reason. I grabbed a handful of the chocolates and popped two in my mouth. I almost choked when my phone started ringing and I jumped slightly. I hurriedly grabbed it and slid it out of my pocket, noticing that it was Gerard calling and leaping to my feet to take the call outside so I didn’t disturb the others.

“Hello?” I answered, unsurely. I still hadn’t gotten used to the whole talking on the phone thing — Janey and I normally just texted each other.

“Good morning,” Gerard replied. I frowned, glancing at the clock.

“You realize it’s two in the morning here?”

He laughed. “Oh. Right. Time difference. Gotta love Malaysia. Well it still counts as morning, even if you haven’t gotten to bed yet.”

“Uh, yeah. Sure. You’re in Malaysia?”

“Yeah but that’s not why I’m calling.”

I leant against the wall. “Then why are you?”

“Well, first of all, why the hell did I not know Susie Ain’t Your Friend got signed? And by the way you guys really need to come up with a shorter name for that band.”

“Wait, how the hell did you find out?” I asked, confused. I hadn’t told him, that much I knew, and it wasn’t exactly front-page news. “And so says the guy in a band called My Chemical Romance, which, by the way, is five syllables long. One more than Susie Ain’t Your Friend.”

“Smartass. I have contacts. 336 Records? They’re a company under the same umbrella organisation as our record label. It’s like a family of businesses. Anyway I heard the name mentioned in passing so I investigated and apparently you’re a horrible friend because I got told absolutely nothing about it!”

“I’m sorry... I guess I thought you were too busy with the whole being famous and being on tour thing, you know. They haven’t even finished their first draft of the CD.”

“It’s still good news! And when the CD comes out I’m totally buying loads of copies. That’s Christmas or birthday presents sorted.”

“Cheapskate,” I said jokingly, chuckling. “You could at least buy a t-shirt or something to go with them.”

“You’re right. But I can’t wrap t-shirts.”

I chatted happily to him for a few more minutes until I heard Janey yell at me to get my ass back in there because she was running out of things to draw on and I quickly said my goodbyes. I walked back into the lounge and I was greeted by five pairs of curious eyes. I slid back into my place on the floor, retucking the covers around me.

“What?” I asked.

Alex snorted. “Dude, you have this really goofy look on your face.”

I stopped smiling and tried to look dead serious. But I could only keep it up for a few seconds before I started giggling, especially when Janey grabbed hold of my (only) un-inked hand and started writing something on it, which tickled like hell. I looked down at my new piece of sharpie body art — she’d simply written ‘Belongs to Janey’ in block capitals.

“That’s true,” I said sarcastically. I wasn’t really bothered; she was always messing around. Just the other day I’d got a text from her which went along the lines of ’It feels good to have the power to make you pick up your phone whenever I want. Yeah, that’s right, you’re my bitch.’ Funny, but not when I was in the middle of a meeting with the Boss and she wanted to know what it was.

But then again Janey had always been like that. One of the reasons she was my friend — she just was the kind of person I liked. We didn’t share the same taste in clothes, guys or music, but we shared a sharp tongue and an ability to act like five-year-olds and that was good enough for us. I remember meeting her about two years ago. I’d walked into the office and found an amusing scene — Janey, the tiny, purple-haired fury, screeching at a poor co-worker, her hands flying around her in a whirlwind of movement, and the victim of her anger almost cowering away despite the fact he was about a foot taller than her. And then she’d stormed off, shouting something about incompetence, and ran right into me hovering in the doorway.

Finley jumping to his feet with a yell snapped my attention back to present. He was grinning, his eyes dancing with excitement. “I almost forgot!” He said, racing from the room. I watched him go, a puzzled frown on my face, and turned back to Alex to give her a questioning look. She shrugged, looking as bemused as me.

Then he was back, clutching several bags in his hands which he dumped next to Alex. “Presents!” he explained. I went to find my own presents too, a lot better wrapped than I usually could manage thanks to mother’s intervention.

When I got back Alex had already started tearing the first packages open. Her mouth dropped open when she found a CD under all the paper. “Oh my god, it’s the new Hello, Irony CD! And it’s signed!” she exclaimed, waving it around in the air.

Janey smiled widely. “I’m glad you like it, Alex.”

I gave her some of my more serious gifts — a star necklace with her name engraved on it, a new pair of converses I’d seen her eyeing way back and a signed copy of MCR’s album from Gerard — and then I handed her a rolled-up poster. She giggled when she unravelled it, showing Finley. It was a picture of a star of fame with Alex’s name on it — I’d have to thank the graphics department of the Stratford New Evening Standard again for their skills later. “My very own star of fame,” she said gleefully. “I’m totally putting this on my wall.”

“Yeah, and soon we’ll get a real one,” Finley said, nodding eagerly.

I laughed. “You never did dream small, Fin,” I said, getting up and grabbing shot glasses of the nearest table. I’d been making sure everyone wasn’t drinking too much earlier but by now I was a bit too tipsy myself to care. I poured out a few and handed them around, watching Red pull the most awesome scrunched up face ever when he tried to knock it all back at once.

“Oh god, it burns,” he gasped.

Jack laughed, drinking his without fuss. “Pussy,” he said, pouring himself another one.

There were several more excited squeals as Alex unwrapped her next presents, including a little dance when Red gave her a guitar pick he’d gotten at a Green Day gig (and a declaration that she was gonna cherish it forever). Finally, I started clearing up the ripped and torn paper from the floor and shoving it into a black bin-bag. Janey helped out, but the others just sat there and watched — much to my chagrin. I threw a bunch of balled up paper at Finley’s head and demanded he help out.

“Hey, you smudged Munster!” Janey said, grabbing my arm. She tutted loudly and grabbed the marker to repair the little blob monster. I relented, rolling my eyes.

“You realize he’s gonna be washed off when I have a shower in the morning, right?”

“You wouldn’t!” Alex cried, looking horrified.

“Poor Munster!” Jack said.

Finley joined in, too. “You — you... murderer!”

I looked around at the four of them glaring at me. Red was already asleep, curled up against the sofa’s armrest, but if he had been awake I could see him walking out whilst muttering something about ’immature idiots’. “What, you expect me not to shower for the rest of my life?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Think of poor Munster! Think of him, dammnit!” Finley said, waving his arms around I what I gathered was meant to be an empathetic way. Then he grinned. “You could get him tattooed on!”

I laughed. “Oh god, please. We’re not all as obsessed with tattoos as you, Fin.”

He frowned slightly. “I’m not obsessed!” I glanced meaningfully down at the tattoos on his left arm already, covering a whole half of it in brightly inked pictures — he’d got the majority of the tattoos done illegally at sixteen and seventeen, even in such an open place.

“You’re totally obsessed, Fin,” Alex chimed in. “But that’s okay but tattoos are hot.”

“Why thank you, Alex,” Finley replied, smirking. “I am pretty hot stuff if I say so myself.”

“No, Fin, you’re lame. And your hair is awful,” Jack said.

“Well you fashion taste sucks so take that, assbutt.” Finley flicked his hair exaggeratedly and turned his back on Jack.

I did wonder why I was friends with these people sometimes.

~*~

I realized how much I hated Christmas when the 20th came and went and I still hadn’t bought presents for the important people in my life, which, apparently, was the whole point of Christmas (according to my decidedly materialistic sister.)

But it was only as I found myself trudging once more through the thick sludgy snow of London with Janey in tow that I realized just how behind I was. She’d already bought every present she needed to, including a lot for herself (’Hey, I’m an important part of my life and I deserve to be thanked for it!’) and was taking great glee in teasing me about it.

“I thought you were meant to be the organized one, Cam,” she said for about the fourth time. She had an unnatural amount of energy today and was skipping along quite happily, her hair already falling out of the loose ponytail she’d pulled it back in and flying everywhere with her steps. She was certainly getting some curious looks, but when did she not? Purple hair, even faded like it was now, was not a normal occurrence.

“Shut up,” I muttered crossly as I walked into a shop. “At least I got her birthday presents in time.” I paused, looking at all the different rails of clothes, and then turned to Janey. “What do you think she’d like?”

She grinned but said nothing, motioning that her lips were sealed with her finger.

“Funny,” I said. “Alright, stop shutting up and tell me.”

Her grin stretched wider. “Okay!” She said, launching herself at the nearest rack and flicking through it with way too much eagerness. “No, no, definitely no, nuh-uh, not in a million years,” she said, pushing all the rejected clothes to one side. I looked at some of the things she’d discarded — I liked that green top... was it really bad enough to earn ’not in a million years’? Saying that, the one time I’d let Janey dress me for a night out I had three guys ask for my number, but that was only once.

I let her do what she wanted, wandering off to the back of the shop and leaving her to it. As I was looking through the hats, pondering whether I’d suit one of the new black beanies, she came running up to me clutching what looked like a giant black silk web but which I assumed was actually a piece of clothing.

“This!” She said, handing it to me. “She’d like this.”

I dared not ask what exactly it was, instead checking the price tag. It was reasonable enough, especially since I’d been saving up for a while to make sure I had a Christmas budget of some kind, so I nodded. “Fine,” I said, grabbing the beanie I’d been looking at to and moving the till. I was just putting the things on the counter when my phone rang, and I dug it out of my pocket and answered it.

“Hello?”

“Cam!” I recognized my sister’s voice instantly. “Guess what?”

“Uhm, I don’t know... you dyed your hair? Got a boyfriend? Killed someone?”

“Yeah, I did,” she said breezily. “But that’s not important. I have news.”

“Good news?” I asked, curious now.

“Extremely good news! We’re going on tour!”

“What?!”

The girl behind the counter looked rather surly, especially when she had to ask twice whether I wanted to pay via card or cash since I was busy trying to listen to Alex as she explained things. I handed my card over without looking up, muttering an apology.

“A tour! A real, big, proper tour. I heard today from Joey, and he says he’s found us a manager too. But you’ll never guess what else.”

I wished she’d just get to the point. “It’s... with a travelling circus? You have to ride unicycles?”

She giggled. “No, no, it’s not that. But nice visual image. Could you imagine Finley on a unicycle?”

“What was I meant to guess then?”

“Oh! It’s with Hello, Irony! And Combatant! And MCR! And—”

I cut her off. “Wait, wait, My Chemical Romance, MCR?” My eyes widened slightly.

“I know, I couldn’t believe it either. But it’s true. It’s not like, supporting them or anything. We’ll be on the smallest side-stage or something. But it’s called Impact’s Whiteout. And it’s this completely new music tour in England organised by 336 Records’ parent company, Warner Bros Records. You know, bugs bunny?”

“I know who the Warner Brothers are,” I said dryly, taking my card and the bag the girl handed me and dropping the receipt in it. I walked back to Janey’s side, wedging the phone between my shoulder and ear so I could slide my card back into my purse. “But what about the whole recording a CD before you go on tour?”

“They’ve come to decision on that. They’re gonna release it in two parts — the half we’ve got finished now, as an EP to drum up some excitement and expand our fan base, and then the second half after the tour when they’ll be a lot more interest. Basically, they say having a full CD out before the tour will do worse than two halves. I don’t care. I’m just psyched about a tour,” she explained. “And you know what? It’s a couple of months away. We’re gonna start in early April.”

“Wow. Wow.”

“Exactly!”

I turned to Janey, who was trying to listen to what we were talking about and looking rather frustrated that she couldn’t. “Hold on,” I said to my sister, before telling Janey what Alex just had. Her mouth, literally, dropped.

“Oh my fucking god! That’s ace! Tell Alex that’s ace!” She exclaimed loudly.

I laughed. “I think she heard that anyway.”

“I did.” Alex’s voice was tinny through the speaker, but I could hear amusement in it. “And I know right? It’s fucking ace!”

I handed Janey the phone then, since she was practically jumping up and down with her eagerness to say something, and walked outside. Probably not the best idea, since it was about zero degrees, but I didn’t want to stand around and I needed some fresh air. I leant against the front wall of the shop, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of my bag. I probably shouldn’t smoke — it was a bad habit, after all — but I needed some stress relief and this was my way of doing it.

SAYF was going on tour.

I couldn’t believe it.

~*~

As was traditional on Christmas Eve we invited Janey, Finley, Red, and Jack around, and we all sat down beside the tree to watch the awful Christmas TV and drink mulled wine (or, in Red and my case, hot chocolate.) I had been attacked by Alex earlier and I now had a santa’s hat perched on my head and red lipstick on.

Finley had changed his hair colour, too, which made me laugh when he turned up (and mourn the former lime). The green hair was still there in patches underneath which he hadn’t been able to reach, but the rest of it was a bright Rudolph nose red. His cheeks were flushed too, from the cold, and this wasn’t helped by his red hoodie. He didn’t appreciate my comparison of him to a tomato, but everyone else agreed. Even my mother, who had been in an amazingly good mood on the week leading up to Christmas.

Something about Christmas made it the best time to break big news. I’m sure it was the festive good mood and relaxed atmosphere, but at least the band had chosen a good time to tell my mother what was going on with the tour. I’d heard yesterday that the actual leaving date was the 5th of April, which gave them barely any time to finish recording and prepare for a massive tour. I’m sure none of them had ever thought about this, though. They were too pumped up about the prospect on a whole.

Still, when Alex looked at me quickly, still clutching something she insisted was just plain juice but I could tell was wine, and then turned to my mother, I held my breath, ready for her to blow up.

“Mum, I have news,” Alex began, quietly. I could see Janey and the others listening in anyway, though.

Our mother looked up from a present she’d been playing with, trying to work out what was inside like a little kid on Christmas morning. “What’s that, honey?” she asked, smiling brightly.

“We’ve been offered a place on a music tour. It means going away for two months. And it begins in April.”

I don’t think, guessing from their general reactions, anyone was expecting her to just come right out and say it. Perhaps a gentle build-up would have been the better way to go, but Alex had always been straight talking. She, like Janey, didn’t normally think before she spoke.

I watched as my mother’s smile faltered. “What?” she said, frowning. “You’re going away?”

Alex nodded, explaining it in a bit more detail whilst my mother’s expression began changing from confused to angry. I bit my lip, turning to Finley and widening my eyes exaggeratedly. He nodded, mouthing ’oh fuck’. Red joined in our silent communication, too, miming strangling somebody. I laughed.

“But Alex, you’re eighteen. Why can’t this wait until next year? You still have studies,” she said, her voice constrained and snappish.

“I’ll have an online tutor,” she said, glancing at us like she was looking for backup. I moved forward.

“Mum, listen to me — they’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it. And Alex, she’s grown up now, she can handle herself.” I didn’t think that was the case, but I hoped my voice was convincing enough.

All my mother did was narrow her eyes at me. “And you think I don’t know what Alex can do and not do? I’m her mother.”

“I’m not saying that, I’m just saying she’ll be okay. Please, mum, it’s their big break.”

But my pleading expression did nothing. She pressed her lips together disapprovingly, and then turned to Alex. “You’re not allowed. Got that? I forbid you to do this.”

Alex looked angry, now. “What? You can’t control me now, I’m eighteen! I don’t have to listen to you anymore!”

“Yes you do! Because I’m your mother and as long as you live in this house you’re gonna obey my rules!” Her voice raised to meet Alex’s.

Finley dropped the present he’d been clutching and stood up, as if to get involved too. I put out a hand to stop him, shaking my head. This was bad enough as it was.

A long pause followed, whilst Alex stared long and hard at my mother. I hoped she’d just give up, but I knew she wouldn’t. But even what she did next shocked me.

“Fine, you know what? I’m leaving! You can’t control me if I don’t live here!” She stormed out of the living room, knocking over a table in her hurry. The wine glass balanced on the table tipped over and smashed against the ground, sending glass flying everywhere and the red liquid inside spilling all over the carpet.

I heard her heavy footsteps on the stairs, then in her room, and the sound of slamming doors. Finley and I ran upstairs, straight to her room. We saw two bags on the bed and then her in front of the wardrobe, pulling out clothes with a ferocity which scared me.

“Alex? Alex, calm down!” I said, grabbing hold of her shoulders.

She shrugged me off angrily, a hard, determined expression on her face. “I’m sick of this! I want to do this. I want to follow my dreams and I want my freedom!” she snapped, dragging out a handful of shirts and tossing them on the bed. She was still muttering things under her breath when I looked at Finley helplessly. He tried to calm her down too, but failed, and she finished filling up one bag and grabbed the other and walked to the bathroom. I followed her and watched as she pulled handfuls of products off the shelves, throwing it all into the bag.

“What the hell are you going to do?” I asked. “You have nowhere to go!”

“She can stay with me,” Finley offered quietly. I turned to him, angry.

“What the fuck, Fin? Don’t encourage her!”

“Oh come on Cam, she’s already decided. What can we do now? And what kind of friend would I be if I let her walk away without helping?”

I had no answer for that.