Portia MacIntosh

If We Ever Meet Again


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stretching out his arms and wrapping one around me. As he does this, Mark sniggers and shoots me a filthy look. I’m finding it hard not to look at him because he’s sitting opposite me. I take my phone from my bag and I only get to tap a few buttons before it turns off. Bloody smartphones and their rubbish battery life. I’ll just close my eyes for a bit, anything that means I don’t have to look at Mark.

      Awkwardness aside, I’m really looking forward to tonight. Sleeping in a nice hotel is always better than sleeping on the bus and it will be much easier to avoid Mark too. Why does drama follow me around where-ever I go? I still can’t get my head around what happened last night. We’ve never really been that close, not like I am with Ed and Luke, but he was hell-bent on getting close last night. One thing I do know for sure though, this won’t be mentioned in the magazine.

      I wish I could text Emily. I’ll bet she’s sitting at my desk with her feet up. I left her in charge and under strict instructions to call me if anything eventful happened. Obviously she can’t do that now that my battery has died, but I’m sure she’ll be fine. I hope Vicky isn’t taking the piss – I still can’t believe she’s staying at Em’s house. Not only is she taking advantage of her good nature, but she’s making it impossible for us to chat like we usually do, she is always around.

      How long does it take to get to Birmingham, seriously? This is the longest journey of my life. My head is resting on Eddie’s chest and I realise I must have dozed off for a bit. I have no idea for how long but we’re still not there yet. Mark and Luke are playing a video game, Ben is still texting and Eddie is asleep. The living area looks a little tidier, which means someone must have been really bored.

      Mess aside, I adore tour buses. Try to imagine a really glamorous caravan. This isn’t the biggest one I’ve been on, but it has bunks for eight people so it’s still pretty massive. The living area is amazing, you can’t really tell that you’re on a bus. There’s a big table surrounded by sofas and blacked-out windows and a massive flat-screen TV on the wall with a DVD player and a PS3. The kitchen has everything you could need – I imagine, you know I’m not a very kitchen-y person. There’s a kettle, fridge, microwave and even an ice-maker. Just down the aisle is where the bunks are, four on each side. They’re not the comfiest beds in the world, but they’re certainly not the worst. I could so easily live on one of these buses – as long as I had more clothes with me, of course.

      I’m still feeling tired and Eddie is so comfy to cuddle up to – despite the rock-hard muscles in his chest – maybe I’ll just fall back asleep until we get there.

       Chapter Eleven

      The Slut

      The sun is shining brightly in Birmingham today, it’s a shame it is so damn cold. As a result of waking up on the sofa yet again today, my back is killing me.

      I don’t know where everyone is. Eddie is asleep next to me, although with me leaning on him I doubt he could move even if he wanted to, and Mark is still sat in the same place, glaring at me again. I wonder if he’s moved at all.

      Thank God, we are finally here. I don’t know my way around Birmingham (don’t act like you’re surprised) but I’d really like to get to a decent clothes shop and get something to wear. The novelty is starting to wear off my bright orange tent-dress.

      ‘All right, Mark?’ I ask brightly, giving him another chance to put what happened behind us.

      ‘Yeah, fine. Worming your way in with Eddie now, are you?’

      ‘She’s been in with me for a long time, you grumpy fucker,’ Eddie says sounding half asleep, his eyes still closed.

      ‘I’m going for a shower,’ Mark informs us, storming off.

      ‘What’s his problem?’ Eddie asks me as soon as Mark has gone. ‘You knock him back last night or something?’

      ‘Not exactly,’ I reply, hoping that will be the end of it.

      ‘No way!’ he shouts, sitting up straight and suddenly wide awake. ‘You knocked him back? Tell me everything!’

      ‘It’s nothing really.’

      ‘I’m going to get you so drunk tonight, you’re going to tell me everything,’ he laughs.

      ‘Yeah right, you’re going to be less drunk than me? Remind me, who had to be carried to the taxi last night?’

      ‘Don’t put that in your magazine,’ he laughs. ‘The chicks won’t go for that.’

      ‘It was only today you told me that I could write about anything,’ I remind him.

      ‘Yeah, anything but that. Write about how you knocked Mark back though.’

      He’s clearly finding this hilarious and I have to admit he’s cheering me up.

      ‘Oi, stop saying that!’ I nudge him in the ribs. As funny as it is, I don’t want anyone to hear – especially Luke.

      ‘Anyway, I’m beginning to think it’s the other guys who can’t handle their drink,’ Eddie tells me.

      ‘And why is that?’ I ask. This should be good.

      ‘Because when Luke and Ben carried me to the taxi last night, they dropped me twice,’ he jokes. ‘And as for Mark, he had to be smashed if he thought he had a chance with you.’

      The minute the tour bus pulled up outside the venue, the plan was for me to go and pick up something to wear tonight. I’d hoped we’d be in the city centre but I’ve been told that we’re nowhere near a clothes shop of any description. I had a little wander down the road but, not wanting to get lost, I had to admit defeat. Tonight, Matthew, I’m going to be...an orange. I am just going to have to come to terms with the fact that this is the outfit I will be wearing to the show tonight. I’m either going to look like a crazy fan or a skanky groupie and I’m not sure which is worse. This is also the outfit I am going to be wearing when I try to seduce Luke – a hideous orange T-shirt, branded with the name of his band. If he’s vain enough, that will probably do the trick. Eddie keeps making dirty comments about how he’s always wanted to get it on with a girl wearing his band’s merchandise. I think he’s joking but you never know with Eddie. Some poor cow will probably be dressing up in the works for him tonight.

      We are ushered from the bus, into the venue and straight to backstage room, and what a dump it is. The dressing room is small, with no windows, bare walls and a bare floor. Walking over to the table where the food is laid out, I grab a can of Coke and a bag of salt and vinegar crisps and plonk myself down on one of the battered old sofas, trying to ignore the suspicious stains on the cushions.

      The boys are fussing around and getting changed, apart from Eddie who is studying the food carefully. He’s upset because apparently there are things that were on the rider that are not on the table, and he’s shouting at Mick to do something about it. It doesn’t matter that the table is covered with food and drink, what Eddie wants Eddie gets. Some poor venue worker is sent out to get the missing items. Maybe things would change if I were famous, but I can’t imagine kicking off because someone forgot to buy me some ketchup.

      When it is finally my turn to have a shower, I make it snappy before slipping my T-shirt back on. Now that I’m hanging around the backstage area, I have to have my Access All Areas pass on show which leaves me no choice but to wear it around my neck. There’s no doubt about it, I look like a total nerd.

      All alone backstage, I examine the table of food again. I didn’t eat much yesterday and I’ve decided that was the reason I got so drunk last night (although it probably had more to do with the fact that I just drank way too much). I make myself a sandwich and, suddenly starving, I take an over-enthusiastic bite. Just my luck, Luke walks back into the room as I’m struggling to chew a huge mouthful of food. I have managed to make myself look like an even bigger loser, but at least I’m making him smile.

      ‘Bitten off more than you can chew?’ he asks.

      He