You sit in the front row, waiting for the first act of the talent show. It's your school's tradition to hold one at the end of every term, and you've gone to them all since year 7. 4 years later, it's your last one before you leave for sixth form.
More often than not, there are some decent acts, but the musicians can be a little ropey. It's all part of it, you suppose. Some acts are clearly a joke, some there just to piss off the teachers, but there's usually some genuine talent.
The lights lower and Mr Daniels, the prick of a drama teacher, walks out from side stage. His entrance his met with a round of applause and plenty of heckling. He's a bastard, but there'd be no talent show without him, so you keep your mouth shut.
"Twat!" Someone sitting near the back yells.
Daniels coughs, "Thank you." The sniggers from the back of the room carry on, "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to John Spence's End Of Year Talent Show 2010. This evening, students from all across the years will compete for the prize of £100. Voting slips will be passed out at the end of the night after all acts have performed and the winners will be announced once the votes have been counted. Now, please put your hands together for our opening act, Sam Fender!"
Sam's the lanky blond boy in your year that always seems to be laughing about something like everything's a joke that only he's in on. You're not surprised he's performing, he practically lives in that music department, but more shocked that he's never done it before. You're not really friends, but he's good craic.
Sure enough, he walks out with a grin on his face, guitar hanging off his shoulder.
He doesn't say anything, just starts to play. You recognise the tune as Dancing in the Dark, but Sam's voice is completely different to Springsteen's. The whole room's gone silent, which is a rare sight for a secondary school.
Sam doesn't make eye contact with anyone until he gets to the line, "come on baby give me just one look," when he looks directly at you, giving you the smirk that would make anyone swoon. His gaze stays fixed on you for the rest of the song, still smiling like an idiot.
"He likes you," Lauren, your best mate since you were about 4, teases in a sing-song voice.
You scowl at her, "Fuck he does, man."
"Come off it," She grins, "Bet he asks you out later."
~⚫⚪⚫~
The rest of the night is nothing in comparison to the first act. The lowest point was when Jayden Thomas from the year below set his hand on fire with lighter fluid, triggering the smoke alarms. But as you stood outside, all lined up and waiting to be let back in, you kept noticing Sam glancing at you. Well, you didn't until Lauren told you. Over and over again. She's practically planning the wedding already.
It's a bit of a drag while they count the votes, but you still think Sam's in with a chance. The voting system is meant to eliminate bias, but really just turns the whole thing into a popularity contest. It's probably between Sam, a girl called Mia in year 8 and a year 7 who was actually pretty good at stand-up.
The lights are dimmed and Mr Daniels takes the stage once again. Sitting still and quiet for more than an hour is nearly impossible for a group of teenagers, so they make up for the time spent in silence by making as much noise as humanly possible.
"Thank you," He coughs, but nobody shuts up, "Quiet please." He must be off his head if he thinks that's going to stop everyone, "Quiet please." He has to repeat himself a few times before people start to actually listen to him.
Finally, he continues, "And the winner of John Spence's End Of Year Talent Show 2010 is..." Cue the dramatic pause, "...Sam Fender!"
You almost squeal when his name gets read out. Just because he deserves it. Obviously. Sam appears from backstage, still grinning, to collect the money. His face changes when he gets passed the microphone. Clearly, he wasn't expecting to have to make a speech.
"Oh fuc-" He starts before getting a stern look, "I mean, thank you very much. Goodnight." And then he pisses off back behind the curtains. Of course, he does.
Lauren pokes you in the ribs. Again. "That's your future husband."
"Laur," You say, "Get fucked."
She wiggles her eyebrows, "Nah, that's just you."
Someone turns the lights back on and everyone starts to leave. Lauren almost immediately ditches you for a group of lads so you're left alone in the school carpark. The amber glow of the lights illuminates the pot-hole-ridden tarmac as the sun starts to disappear over the horizon. It's starting to drizzle, the clouds threatening a storm, as you make your way onto the street, contemplating taking the long way home. It might be spitting on with rain, but it's still a nice night and you could do with some air.
"Fancy a sesh?" A voice behind you asks, "'Cause I've got a hundred quid burning a hole in me pocket and no one to spend it with."
You turn around, feigning an eye roll, "You really know how to sweep a girl off her feet, Fender."
"Howay," He smirks, the light of the setting sun making his blond hair look almost ethereal. Just an observation. "Get some drinks, mebbies some chips, gan down to the beach. If you fancy it, like."
You smile back, "Sounds lush."
~⚫⚪⚫~
Sam pays for your chips while you go to the offy with a twenty and your fake ID. It sells pretty much anything you could possibly want. Desperately need a canoe at half 2 in the morning? Don't worry, Terry From The Offy's got you covered. You grab a 4 pack of Strongbow and a bottle of WKD, first choices for any underage teen who wants to get pissed.
"7.50 please pet," He says, "Do you need a bag?"
You pass him a tenner, "No, I'll be alright thanks."
You take your change, thank him again, and go and find Sam at the chippy. He exchanges a box of chips with scraps, mushy peas and curry sauce on the side, for the WKD and you walk down to the beach sharing shite jokes.
You crack open your cans and start eating. "What did you do with your guitar?" You ask.
"Gave it to me brother, he took it back for us," Sam answers with a mouth full of chips. "Why?"
You shrug, "Just curious. I thought you were amazing tonight, by the way."
"Cheers," He clinks his can against yours.
The two of you sit in silence while you finish eating, "Fancying dancing in the dark with me?" You ask, slurring your words slightly. The cider is long gone and you've made a decent start on the vodka. What was left of the sun has set, but the glow of the moon is the only light you need.
"You're pissed," Sam sniggers, "But aye, why not?"
He pulls you onto your feet, both of you giggling, and rests his hands on your back. You stumble around like a pair of pissheads, laughing each time you nearly fall over.
"Wait-" You say halfway through, "We haven't got any music."
Sam starts to sing softly, "Well it's Saturday night, you're all dressed up in blue, I been watching you awhile, maybe you been watching me too." It's a pretty song, even if you don't really recognise it. You might if you were sober. "So somebody ran out, left somebody's heart in a mess. Well if you're looking for love, honey I'm tougher than the rest."
You rest against him, you'd probably fall over if you didn't, and he presses a kiss to the top of your head.
"I reckon we could make a go of it," He says softly, "You and me. What'd you say?"
But you're already half asleep, his words battling with your consciousness to be heard.
Sam's arms wrap around your shoulders, keeping out the night's cold. "Maybe some other time then pet. Maybe some other time."
And she said that together we could take on the worldAnd she told me that I'll never find another girl like her
And she said that together we could do anythingAnd she told me that she loves a boy who knows how to sing so I learned how to sing
