Tender (A britpop era fiction)

Strange Thing

„You're joking."

„I'm not."

Matt laughs, first quiet, then louder and louder.

„You never told that publicly, if I remember correctly."

„No, I didn't. That was the whole purpose of this interviews, right? For you to hear a few new stories."

„That was the intention, yes." Matt smiles and I return to my memories.

„To cut it short, for whatever reason, somehow, at some point that night I signed a paper Dave scribbled down that, with very good will, you may have called a contract. I don't think it was legally binding, but I could be wrong. Dave had a hand for legal matters, even then."

„But how did that even come about?"

„If I only knew, Matt. I can't remember shit from that night. It's hard to know what happened exactly, they all tell a different story. All I know is one of their roadies had quit and their management was looking for someone new to go to Europe with them." I laugh quietly.

„Damon swears he was too out of it himself to remember. Alex says it was my idea, Dave says it was Alex' idea and Ivan says it was Daves idea. I suspect it was Alex. Suits him most. But whatever happened, whoever came up with it, the next day I didn't only wake up with a hangover but with a contract that I would be their roadie for the next two months. Drum technician, to be exactly." I chuckle. „I had no fuckin' clue about drums, y'know."

„Wait, were you not working for Creations at the time?"

„That's what I told Alex and that's why I wanted to get out of it. I didn't want to go on tour, not if the band wasn't Oasis. And I knew it meant trouble with McGee. And I was suspicious of myself, I knew how tour's went, how...I was on tour."

„I went home and wanted to call Creations but then I put the phone down. A strange part of my brain had started to work as soon as I held the phone. Then I made a call, but not with Creations."

„Hello?" Damon sounds just as hungover as I feel myself. I clear my throat.

„Hey there."

„Claire? Is that you?"

„The one and only. Listen, ehm..." I try to find the right words. „What the fuck happened last night?"

„Good question. Wrong person to answer it." He chuckles. „Jesus, I can't remember fuck."

„Yeah, me neither." I laugh nervously. „But strangely enough, seems I signed a contract to work for you somewhere between yesterday and this morning." I look down at the piece of paper in my hand.

„You – what?" Damon asks confused. „How did that come about?"

„If I only knew" I mumble.

„You can't work for us. Your with Creation."

„Thanks for stating the obvious Sherlock, I know I can't fuckin' work for you Jesus fuckin' Christ!" I say upset. „I've got no clue how serious this thing is so I hoped you could tell me how this mess even came about!"

„As I said, I can't remember fuck. I'm not even sure if I was still there."

„Don't know. Sounds quite serious to me. And isn't a contract always binding when both parties signed it?" I look at the two names in the corner, try to remember the little bit of basic law I must've stored somewhere in my brain.