Even After Everything

As we continue walking through and into another set of doors, brandishing our tickets, we talk about rubbish. Accents, tartan, which leads to Tarzan, then to monkeys, and Guy Ripley, bringing us back to accents as we reach a huge crowd of people gathered around some barriers.

‘When do they open the doors?’ I ask, eyeing the crowd.

‘What do you mean?’

‘You know, to get into the stage room.’

‘Uh, Hannah, there are no doors, the stage is over there,’ she snorts, pointing. I follow her finger as far as a few heads, but they’re too tall for me to look further.

‘But I can’t see!’

‘That, Banana, is why we push,’ she says significantly, throwing her arms out in front of her and jamming them in between a group of people, squeezing herself through the gap as I clutch on to her dress, muttering ‘Sorry, oh - sorry, I didn’t see you.’

‘Shut up apologising,’ she hisses at me. ‘If they didn’t want to be shoved out of the way then they should have gone to see Elton John.’

As we get nearer and nearer the stage, the crowd gets more and more dense, as if to block out anyone trying to push in.

I.e. Us

But it doesn’t stop Sana. She casts a hand out before her into the sea of people and gropes around till she finds something, yelling ‘Hold on Hannah, I’ve got the barrier!’ to me over the buzz of people filling the room. Screwing up her face, I watch her squeeze herself to the front, and in pure panic of losing her, I barge through too.

‘See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?’ she says, and though we’re not right up against the barriers, there’s only a few people in front of us and I have a pretty good view the stage.

I turn around to seen how far we’ve come only to get shoved into by a new group of people, obviously pushed by someone else who’s quite as keep to get to the front as we were.

‘Sorry!’ yells a tall boy who was right at the front of the group. ‘It wasn’t-’

‘S’okay!’ I yell back, going to turn around again but he stops me.

‘I know this is weird, but could you just push my zipper flat please - my hands are stuck up here and it’s digging into me.’

I look up, and his hands are indeed fixed above his head, but there’s no way I’m going down there.

‘Sorry!’ I shout above the racket. ‘I don’t touch penises!’

Why did I just say that? It’s all the excitement - I can’t control my mouth. He looks at me as if I’ve sprouted another head.

‘Er…actually, I meant my hoodie zip.’

I look to his chest and notice that the pully bit is angled inwards. I blush.

‘Oh…sorry.’ I flick the zip so it lies flat and turn back to Sana, who is trying - not very hard - not to laugh at me.

‘You’re an idiot Banana-’ she begins, breaking off as all the lights go down, and we can see five shadows moving around onstage. She leans over to whisper in my ear.

‘You’re hat is like the burning beacon of the south.’

Before I can hit her, a voice is ringing out through the room.

‘Ladies and gentlemen…we are…The Academy Is!’

The crowd start screaming hysterically as the spot lights fly up, and a guitar starts strumming randomly as the voice continues. I know that voice - it’s the same one from all those The Academy Is… records. William Beckett is standing practically right in front of me!

‘And now, can we have your attention!’

After just one violent note from a guitar, William launches into a pitch perfect rendition of Attention Attention, and I can almost feel the energy burst off him as he runs to the left of the stage and throws his arms over the barrier. Hundreds of screaming girls crush into the people in front as they strain forwards to touch him, but he jumps backwards, running back to the middle and launching himself off the drum rise, over to the right.

The atmosphere is electric, and he switches songs, over and over - still keeping up the dancing and jumping and spinning, until what must have been the sixth song comes to a close.

He makes his way to centre stage again, panting a little, and holds his hand up in the air.

‘So guys,’ he begins. ‘I can’t tell you how great it is to be back here.’

The crowd go wild and he unbuttons his shirt as he waits for them to settle a little.

‘And we’ve played a lot of shows this tour, but I have to say, the crowd here is the best - we just feel like it’s so worth while when we turn up to a little place like this and it’s full to the rafters with fans like you. I love you guys. So we’ve got a few more songs for you, but then we’ve got to hand you over to some of our friends - this next song’s called Seed and it’s off our latest record Santi - thanks so much.’

I nearly die - I love Seed. And just like the rest of the audience, I start jumping and waving and throwing my first in the air, and singing along like there’s no tomorrow.

True to form, William keeps up his enthusiasm, this time coming over to our area and throwing out his arms. I’m so squashed that had my arms been by my sides, I wouldn’t have been able to lift them up to touch him - but they weren’t, and just like every other fan around me I reach out and grope wildly, before he launches himself backwards again.

With his face so close to us it’s clear to see why he’s so adored - photos can’t portray it. Those huge chocolate eyes, the ever so slightly crooked left tooth poking cutely from behind that sly half-smile, the cleft in his chin contradicting his child like features. He’s beautiful.

And suddenly his eyes fall on me - I’m sure of it. There we’re tonnes of people around me but I can feel his eyes on mine so blatantly that I look away, look down - anywhere. I’m so self conscious. There’s so much honesty in those eyes, and yet I can’t tell what they’re thinking. I feel myself blanch - what if my hair’s a mess, is my makeup smeared?

I tug on Sana for reassurance, but she just gives me that look and turns back to the stage.

For the rest of the set, I dance and sing, but I keep my head down, or my hand outstretched but covering my face. Generally being seen a mess is bad enough, but by William Beckett?

I shudder.

Lost in my thought, I fail to notice that The Academy Is… have stopped playing, and that Gabe Saporta has joined William on stage.

‘Bilv my man!’ he hugs William and then steps away, disgust playing on his face. ‘Man, you’re all sweaty.’

‘What do you expect? I’ve been jumping around with these guys for an hour!’ He casts his hand over the audience, and then turns back to the front.

‘Thanks so much you guys! We’ll see you in the pit later, yeah?’

The crowd scream but Williams eyes are searching for me again, suspicion etched on his face. Gabe gives him a questioning look, but he shakes his head resignedly and leaves the stage.

Gabe shrugs and turns towards the crowd. ‘So guys…you having a good night?!’