Memphis Wills wants out of Whitehaven, the tiny village she's lived in her whole life. So aged sixteen she leaves for college in the city and never looks back.
Until five years later when she finally wises up and leaves her dirt bag boyfriend. Fee...
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"So, what do you think?"
I pull myself up from where I've sunk into the middle of the saggy leather couch set up opposite where Second-hand Agenda have been practising for the past half hour. It's not much really, just a garage painted a sad magnolia. The floor is concrete, but an old piece of carpet had been laid out under the instruments set up in front of me. A bright pink drumkit, the snare drum decorated with black stars and a microphone on a stand held together with grey tape. Dan's bass is red, set on a stand to the left of the 'stage', Eli on the right.
Eli's looking at me with keen interest, his orange guitar hanging at his waist attached to a green strap around his neck.
"I mean, it's pretty good."
Eli beams. "We are, right? We're nowhere near as awesome as the likes of Artificial Fever or Sketch, but we're not awful."
"Definitely not awful," I assure him, remembering how at ease he'd looked just now when they'd been practising a cover of Blink 182's 'Rock Show'. "Who knew you're actually pretty decent on a guitar."
"I started lessons the September you left," he explains, placing his guitar on its stand and coming to sit next to me. "It took a little while to get the hang of the chords but once I had the basics down I was jamming like a king."
I jostle his shoulder, his grey shirt sleeve rising to show off more of the tattoo on his left shoulder. "Of course you were."
"Has Elijah always been this annoying?" Dan asks as he and Beth come back into the garage, having been into the main house to fetch drinks.
"Dan's just pissy cause Candice dumped him yet again," Eli replies with a smirk.
"Oh, I didn't realise you were a thing," I say. It explains why Candice was hanging out with Eli at the gig when they'd barely spoken two words to each other in school. I had briefly wondered what the connection had been.
"We're casual," Dan counters.
"Friends with benefits," Beth adds as she sits down on my other side, offering me a can of cider.
I take it with a smile, popping the tab with a hiss. "Thanks. So how did you all meet?"
"We all went to Rockport Grammar and Hayden met Eli at their guitar lessons," Beth replies. "My dad plays back up for a couple of bands when they're on tour, so I was always destined to play the drums."
"I learned the bass to piss off my dad," Dan says. "He wanted me to be a doctor, but I don't fancy the long shifts. We compromised and I've just finished my first round of training to be a paramedic."
I try to imagine this Dan, sipping cider and wearing a distressed pair of jeans with a vintage band tee, saving lives as he blue lights his way across the south of England.
