Skinny Jeans Have No Place On These Thighs
Marcus
"Seb looks good!" says Izzie, looking rather surprised. I don't know why. Everyone knows that Seb is a Sex-God, well obviously except for Bridget because he's her big brother!
Bridget raises her eyebrows but says nothing; she knows that everyone fancies her brother. She doesn't seem to care much either but then Bridget doesn't really care about anything much.
As I'm watching the band, I notice how much stage presence the lead singer, Marcus, has. The girls standing in front of the stage all seem very into him. He smiles at them while he's singing but you can just tell that they're not what he's after. Seb doesn't smile at all as he's playing, he's frowning in concentration - I never realised playing the bass was so hard.
"He has ear ache," hisses Bridget into my ear in explanation. "That's why his face is all screwed up. He's in a lot of pain. I offered him pain killers but he didn't want them. Something about how the company tested them on animals or something. I think he's turning into a hippie," she adds laughing.
I look back at Seb and can instantly see that Bridget is right. As I look over, I catch Marcus's eye. He looks back at me swiftly but rather piercingly and I feel a rush in my stomach. Was he really looking at me?!
After the set, Izzie dragged us over to the stage - I think she was trying to catch a glance at Citizen Deranged who hadn't even arrived yet. I can see Marcus is surrounded by six girls and they're all laughing at something he's said. I feel a stab of jealousy and I wish that I could be over there talking to him too.
Then something amazing happens. Marcus breaks away from these girls and saunters over to Bridget and me.
"Hey gorgeous," he says to Bridget, leaning in and giving her a kiss on the cheek. I stare at Bridget, feeling rather shocked - since when has she been on kissing terms with this guy?? - when suddenly he asks casually, "Who's your lovely friend here?"
"This is Ella," Bridget smiles at him.
"Hi Ella, nice to meet you," says Marcus and then he leans forward and gives me a kiss on the cheek too! He ignores my embarassment entirely and turns back to Bridget. "What's the matter with your idiot brother? He had a face like a smacked arse for the entire set."
"He's in a lot of pain, Marcus!" Bridget points out but Marcus just rolls his eyes.
"If he's going to be an exhibitionist and not try and relieve the pain then he's an even bigger git than I thought! What did you think of it anyway - sound good?"
The question is addressed to both of us and I force myself to stammer, "Oh ... really go - great!"
Marcus smiles at me appreciatively. "Thanks babe. It's nice to know that someone was actually paying attention and not just staring at John Lennon over there!" He nods towards Seb who is now surrounded by the same girls as Marcus had flocking around him.
"I'll be back in a second," says Bridget suddenly. "I'm going to spike his drink with something to ease the pain."
She hurries away, leaving me with the rockstar. Well, I suppose he's not a rock star but he is in a band. And VERY very good looking!
"So," says Marcus, rather strangely, "Can I ask you something very, very personal?"
I blink, not quite sure how to react. "Er . . . yeah?"
"OK, well this is a bit out there, so bear with me, all right?" he says and takes an overly deep breath. Then he asks, "Is this your first night in a pub?"
I feel extremely disappointed by this question but I try and hide it from my expression. I know that he's only teasing me and that he isn't taking me seriously at all. It's because I'm not 'indie' enough for him I suppose. All of the other girls in here are all heavily made up, with legs up to their armpits and -
"Well?" Marcus asks, chuckling at me. "Have you?"
I hesitate, then decide on telling the truth. "No."
Marcus drews a hand across his forehead rather theatrically. "Phew! I'm glad I haven't lost my touch. I can always tell when a girl is feeling a little . . . out of place. It's one of my few gifts, to make up for my many vices. Talking of which," he says, a light flicking in his eyes, "Do you want a drink?"
I hesitate again. I've already had one and you're always hearing about how you shouldn't accept drinks from boys you don't know. Then suddenly I hear myself and want to punch my innerself for being so boring. It's not like he's a COMPLETE stranger, he's friends with Seb and Bridget said he was a nice guy.
I'm about to say 'yes please' but before I can reply, Marcus laughs at me again, "What am I talking about? You're not even old enough to be smoking, are you?"
I feel my cheeks burn with shame. Marcus sees this and immediately the smile falters on his face. "Oh, God, I'm sorry! I didn't mean . . . I was just joking, love! Let me make it up to you - " He dives his hands into his pockets and then he hands me a pound coin. I stare at him feeling confused - was he trying to pay me off? - Then he raises his eyebrows at me and explains, "You can pick the songs on the dukebox. While I'm buying you a beer to apologise. OK?"
I nod dumbly and let him steer me towards the dukebox and stood me in front of it, his hands still on my shoulders. "Right, now make sure you pick something decent. No Fall Out Boy or My Chemical Romance or I'm afraid that I'm going to have to scream." He grins at me to let me know he's joking and then asks, "What do you want to drink by the way?"
"Vodka and coke," I say quickly, glad that at least I have an answer for that one! As he's walking away, I call out to him, "With extra ice please!"
He doesn't turn around but he raises his hand over his shoulder to indicate he heard. I put the money into the dukebox and look at the selection. It doesn't take me too long to choose. I go for Ziggy Stardust by David Bowie, the Scissor Sisters version of Comfortably Numb, Zero by the Smashing Pumpkins and Bitter End by Placebo .
"Are you mental?" I hear Izzie say suddenly and I spin around to find her standing right behind, looking really disapproving. "You're not meant to put old stuff like that on! Why didn't you put on something decent like Incubus or Razorlight on?"
"I don't really like Razorlight all that much," I say, shrugging.
"Hey!" Marcus comes back over, passing me my drink. "Nice choice, kid. Maybe I underestimated you. Come outside, I need a smoke badly." He starts walking away and then glances back at me. "You coming?"
My eyes dart to Izzie who is looking very surprised, her mouth hanging open in a most unflattering way. I nod before she can change my mind and I follow him out of a back door down onto the cement steps where there are a number of large plant pots full of cigarette stumps in them.
Marcus smiles at me as I stand awkwardly on the cement, hoping that he won't offer me a cigarette. He doesn't; he lits up one of his own and then stares at me, grinning to himself.
"So, what's your deal kid? I don't see this as being your kind of place."
I hate being called kid, even though it sounds pretty cool the way he says it. I shrug and say, "My mates were coming so . . . "
"You always do what your mates do?" Marcus asks, rather mockingly. I shrug again, wishing that I had something to say to this boy!! "God, you really are the real deal aren't you?" He says quietly. "No pretence, no self-awareness, nothing!"
I frown slightly, "Excuse me?"
"You, love. You're like an alien. You have no idea what you are or what you're doing here - it's fantastic. You're so pure - it's like you haven't been touched by society at all."
I rolled my eyes. Could he be anymore wrong? I am so damaged by society that I torture myself mentally constantly and compare myself to everyone else present. I would call THAT being incredibly self-aware. Aware of how disgustingly fat my 'self' is. He didn't know what he was talking about.
"I know what that look means. You think that I don't know what I'm talking about and that I don't get you - but I do," Marcus says insistently. "I really do. It's pretty cute actually."
I stare at him, wondering what on earth he's talking about. He can't possibly 'like' me, could he? Why would he? He doesn't know me, the other girls are a million times prettier than me and plus . . . he's beautiful! What would he want anything to do with me for? Particularly in any 'romantic' sense. Plus he's a little older than me. Three years? Maybe even four.
"So, you like David Bowie do you?" He continues, taking a lug on his cigarette and staring at me pensively.
"Yeah," I say shyly, "I found some of my Dad's old records, a load of stuff like Bowie and Van Morrison and Pink Floyd."
"That's some find," says Marcus, the corner of his lips curling rather sexily. "Your dad sounds like a nice guy."
I look down at the floor, uncomfortably. "Yeah, he was."
"Oh." Marcus nods kindly. "Sorry love."
"It's all right."
"What happened? Is he ... ? "
"He's not dead!" I say quickly, taking Marcus rather by surprise. "He's on the missing person's list." I stopped talking then, because already I hated that I was lying to Marcus. I don't know why I felt bad but I did.
Luckily I never have to say anything else. The good thing about saying your father is on the missing person's list is that with most people it doesn't invite a whole lot of questions. They just look horrified for you, say how sorry they are and go to great lengths never to bring it up again. Unfortunately, it turns out that Marcus wasn't like most people.
"When did he go missing?"
"About six months ago."
"Where was the last place you saw him?"
I stare at him, not sure how he can be asking me these things. "At home, right before he was going to go to work."
"Have you ever tried to find him?"
I swallow. It's the most I've ever had to say about it. Even Izzie and Bridget haven't asked as much as this!
"No," I lied.
"What, seriously?" Marcus says, shocked. "But he's your father! Why didn't you ever try and find him?"
"Oh for God's sake," I suddenly snap. "He's not really on the missing person's list, OK?!"
"Then why did you - "
"Because he's on the 'most wanted' list. That clear now? Answer all your questions?"
It really doesn't.
Bridget raises her eyebrows but says nothing; she knows that everyone fancies her brother. She doesn't seem to care much either but then Bridget doesn't really care about anything much.
As I'm watching the band, I notice how much stage presence the lead singer, Marcus, has. The girls standing in front of the stage all seem very into him. He smiles at them while he's singing but you can just tell that they're not what he's after. Seb doesn't smile at all as he's playing, he's frowning in concentration - I never realised playing the bass was so hard.
"He has ear ache," hisses Bridget into my ear in explanation. "That's why his face is all screwed up. He's in a lot of pain. I offered him pain killers but he didn't want them. Something about how the company tested them on animals or something. I think he's turning into a hippie," she adds laughing.
I look back at Seb and can instantly see that Bridget is right. As I look over, I catch Marcus's eye. He looks back at me swiftly but rather piercingly and I feel a rush in my stomach. Was he really looking at me?!
After the set, Izzie dragged us over to the stage - I think she was trying to catch a glance at Citizen Deranged who hadn't even arrived yet. I can see Marcus is surrounded by six girls and they're all laughing at something he's said. I feel a stab of jealousy and I wish that I could be over there talking to him too.
Then something amazing happens. Marcus breaks away from these girls and saunters over to Bridget and me.
"Hey gorgeous," he says to Bridget, leaning in and giving her a kiss on the cheek. I stare at Bridget, feeling rather shocked - since when has she been on kissing terms with this guy?? - when suddenly he asks casually, "Who's your lovely friend here?"
"This is Ella," Bridget smiles at him.
"Hi Ella, nice to meet you," says Marcus and then he leans forward and gives me a kiss on the cheek too! He ignores my embarassment entirely and turns back to Bridget. "What's the matter with your idiot brother? He had a face like a smacked arse for the entire set."
"He's in a lot of pain, Marcus!" Bridget points out but Marcus just rolls his eyes.
"If he's going to be an exhibitionist and not try and relieve the pain then he's an even bigger git than I thought! What did you think of it anyway - sound good?"
The question is addressed to both of us and I force myself to stammer, "Oh ... really go - great!"
Marcus smiles at me appreciatively. "Thanks babe. It's nice to know that someone was actually paying attention and not just staring at John Lennon over there!" He nods towards Seb who is now surrounded by the same girls as Marcus had flocking around him.
"I'll be back in a second," says Bridget suddenly. "I'm going to spike his drink with something to ease the pain."
She hurries away, leaving me with the rockstar. Well, I suppose he's not a rock star but he is in a band. And VERY very good looking!
"So," says Marcus, rather strangely, "Can I ask you something very, very personal?"
I blink, not quite sure how to react. "Er . . . yeah?"
"OK, well this is a bit out there, so bear with me, all right?" he says and takes an overly deep breath. Then he asks, "Is this your first night in a pub?"
I feel extremely disappointed by this question but I try and hide it from my expression. I know that he's only teasing me and that he isn't taking me seriously at all. It's because I'm not 'indie' enough for him I suppose. All of the other girls in here are all heavily made up, with legs up to their armpits and -
"Well?" Marcus asks, chuckling at me. "Have you?"
I hesitate, then decide on telling the truth. "No."
Marcus drews a hand across his forehead rather theatrically. "Phew! I'm glad I haven't lost my touch. I can always tell when a girl is feeling a little . . . out of place. It's one of my few gifts, to make up for my many vices. Talking of which," he says, a light flicking in his eyes, "Do you want a drink?"
I hesitate again. I've already had one and you're always hearing about how you shouldn't accept drinks from boys you don't know. Then suddenly I hear myself and want to punch my innerself for being so boring. It's not like he's a COMPLETE stranger, he's friends with Seb and Bridget said he was a nice guy.
I'm about to say 'yes please' but before I can reply, Marcus laughs at me again, "What am I talking about? You're not even old enough to be smoking, are you?"
I feel my cheeks burn with shame. Marcus sees this and immediately the smile falters on his face. "Oh, God, I'm sorry! I didn't mean . . . I was just joking, love! Let me make it up to you - " He dives his hands into his pockets and then he hands me a pound coin. I stare at him feeling confused - was he trying to pay me off? - Then he raises his eyebrows at me and explains, "You can pick the songs on the dukebox. While I'm buying you a beer to apologise. OK?"
I nod dumbly and let him steer me towards the dukebox and stood me in front of it, his hands still on my shoulders. "Right, now make sure you pick something decent. No Fall Out Boy or My Chemical Romance or I'm afraid that I'm going to have to scream." He grins at me to let me know he's joking and then asks, "What do you want to drink by the way?"
"Vodka and coke," I say quickly, glad that at least I have an answer for that one! As he's walking away, I call out to him, "With extra ice please!"
He doesn't turn around but he raises his hand over his shoulder to indicate he heard. I put the money into the dukebox and look at the selection. It doesn't take me too long to choose. I go for Ziggy Stardust by David Bowie, the Scissor Sisters version of Comfortably Numb, Zero by the Smashing Pumpkins and Bitter End by Placebo .
"Are you mental?" I hear Izzie say suddenly and I spin around to find her standing right behind, looking really disapproving. "You're not meant to put old stuff like that on! Why didn't you put on something decent like Incubus or Razorlight on?"
"I don't really like Razorlight all that much," I say, shrugging.
"Hey!" Marcus comes back over, passing me my drink. "Nice choice, kid. Maybe I underestimated you. Come outside, I need a smoke badly." He starts walking away and then glances back at me. "You coming?"
My eyes dart to Izzie who is looking very surprised, her mouth hanging open in a most unflattering way. I nod before she can change my mind and I follow him out of a back door down onto the cement steps where there are a number of large plant pots full of cigarette stumps in them.
Marcus smiles at me as I stand awkwardly on the cement, hoping that he won't offer me a cigarette. He doesn't; he lits up one of his own and then stares at me, grinning to himself.
"So, what's your deal kid? I don't see this as being your kind of place."
I hate being called kid, even though it sounds pretty cool the way he says it. I shrug and say, "My mates were coming so . . . "
"You always do what your mates do?" Marcus asks, rather mockingly. I shrug again, wishing that I had something to say to this boy!! "God, you really are the real deal aren't you?" He says quietly. "No pretence, no self-awareness, nothing!"
I frown slightly, "Excuse me?"
"You, love. You're like an alien. You have no idea what you are or what you're doing here - it's fantastic. You're so pure - it's like you haven't been touched by society at all."
I rolled my eyes. Could he be anymore wrong? I am so damaged by society that I torture myself mentally constantly and compare myself to everyone else present. I would call THAT being incredibly self-aware. Aware of how disgustingly fat my 'self' is. He didn't know what he was talking about.
"I know what that look means. You think that I don't know what I'm talking about and that I don't get you - but I do," Marcus says insistently. "I really do. It's pretty cute actually."
I stare at him, wondering what on earth he's talking about. He can't possibly 'like' me, could he? Why would he? He doesn't know me, the other girls are a million times prettier than me and plus . . . he's beautiful! What would he want anything to do with me for? Particularly in any 'romantic' sense. Plus he's a little older than me. Three years? Maybe even four.
"So, you like David Bowie do you?" He continues, taking a lug on his cigarette and staring at me pensively.
"Yeah," I say shyly, "I found some of my Dad's old records, a load of stuff like Bowie and Van Morrison and Pink Floyd."
"That's some find," says Marcus, the corner of his lips curling rather sexily. "Your dad sounds like a nice guy."
I look down at the floor, uncomfortably. "Yeah, he was."
"Oh." Marcus nods kindly. "Sorry love."
"It's all right."
"What happened? Is he ... ? "
"He's not dead!" I say quickly, taking Marcus rather by surprise. "He's on the missing person's list." I stopped talking then, because already I hated that I was lying to Marcus. I don't know why I felt bad but I did.
Luckily I never have to say anything else. The good thing about saying your father is on the missing person's list is that with most people it doesn't invite a whole lot of questions. They just look horrified for you, say how sorry they are and go to great lengths never to bring it up again. Unfortunately, it turns out that Marcus wasn't like most people.
"When did he go missing?"
"About six months ago."
"Where was the last place you saw him?"
I stare at him, not sure how he can be asking me these things. "At home, right before he was going to go to work."
"Have you ever tried to find him?"
I swallow. It's the most I've ever had to say about it. Even Izzie and Bridget haven't asked as much as this!
"No," I lied.
"What, seriously?" Marcus says, shocked. "But he's your father! Why didn't you ever try and find him?"
"Oh for God's sake," I suddenly snap. "He's not really on the missing person's list, OK?!"
"Then why did you - "
"Because he's on the 'most wanted' list. That clear now? Answer all your questions?"
It really doesn't.
♠ ♠ ♠
Sorry, I've been ignoring this story for some time. So here's an update for you!