"So... who are you with?" The burly security guard steps forward, barring your way.
"I'm with the band," you say, your voice loaded with suggestiveness, and it doesn't go unnoticed.
He raises an eyebrow, taking in your too-tight dress and cherry red...
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There's an air of excitement over breakfast the next morning, and it's not just the loaded glances that me and Johnny share over the cereal boxes.
Larry has his mobile phone out on the table and it vibrates with a message every few minutes.
"For goodness sake Larry, can't you put that away whilst we're all eating?" My aunt sounds exasperated.
"But mam, it's Reading and bloody Leeds!" Larry exclaims. "Everyone's buzzing for it! First the UK tour, and now this. The band are gonna hit the big time, I just know it!"
"And what are you going to do then if they do?" My aunt says, a serious expression on her face. "Are you going to go and get yourself a proper job?"
"I've got a proper job!" Larry protests, and then he goes into great detail about his role in the band and how important he is, not that my aunt's listening. She's tutting and rolling her eyes, much to Larry's consternation.
"Don't worry son, I think you do a fabulous job!" My uncle says, giving Larry an affectionate slap on the back.
I catch Johnny's eye across the table and he shoots me a huge grin which I return and a warm glow spreads through me. What's wrong with me? I never let guys get under my skin and now here I am, exchanging secretive smiles and blushing like a silly school-girl!
I need to be careful of this one I think, looking down at my cup of tea.
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Johnny and Larry disappear soon after breakfast on 'important band business' and I resolve to spend the rest of the day pampering myself ahead of the Manchester gig.
To be honest, even though the whole indie band boy thing really attracts me, I've never been much into going to gigs. The idea of dancing in a sea of sweaty bodies and being pressed up against someone's armpit at the barrier doesn't really fill me with excitement, but I suppose I need to show willing if I'm going to try and get invited on tour with the lads.
I rifle through my wardrobe but everything just looks too dressy, and as for my shoes? I like to impress but the thought of getting my Louboutin heels scuffed makes me feel nauseous. Also I'd be likely to break my neck if I got caught up in a mosh pit. I hate to admit it but I really need to tone it down for tonight.
