Being Allister Bird

Bigger then the Beatles

His name was Terrence Oliver , and he told us we could be the next big thing. UK top 40. Stateside. The first UK band to really make chart movements in Russia. Japan. Hong Kong. All bullshit , of course , but he certainly looked the part. Flashy clothes and expensive accessories , everything about him stunk music mogul. Cecily Moran , the Hollywood pretty women who had introduced us , was his assistant. Terrence told us in excruciating detail about our deal here , and how much his teenage daughter loved our videos online. He told us it was her who convinced him to bring us in , and that if we want to know the future of music we must look to the kids , apparently. Kids just piss me off , but okay. "But your image would need to change" Terrence says , his caterpillar brows furrowing. His stretches over his brown oak table and stares Jimmy down with intention. Jimmy bites his lip and tries desperately hard to keep as composed as a sonata , but I knew him too well. He was freaking out , the poor sod. Some old white guy stares at you with money bags and every anxiety begins to tingle in your chest. "Your voice is good , son , but I am concerned about the the difference in tone between your first few videos and the ones uploaded now. I'm assuming its just puberty and it'll go away on its own , yes?" Jimmy just gulps and frantically nods. Poor sod. "Good. Having been fourteen myself , I do understand the way our voices change with age and proper training. But its a good , strong rock voice you've got there. Also the whole biracial thing is good , bringing in the diversity to the fanbase. We can capitalize on the half black thing" Terrance prattles on , spewing utter nonsense and making me want to slap himself myself. Poor Jimmy looks like he wants a black hole to open up beneath him and swallow him whole. "Um , I'm actually half Indian. Half Indian and half Italian." Jimmy squeaks , and Terrance actually looks impressed. Breaking news; local anxious boy grows a spine. "Can you speak Italian , Jimmy?" Jimmy coughs awkwardly and says "Uh , Ci?" Jimmy curls into himself and Rowan outwardly sighs , but Terrance doesn't seem to notice. "Nice. So Rowan Ormondi , the oldest , I assume?" Rowan takes a moment to register Terrence's words but then shakes his head and glares at me , like he couldn't quite believe I was older then him. "Oh" Is all Terrence mutters , and I feel all the colour rush out of my cheeks. "A lot older , or-" "Ten months , give or take a few days. I should be in year 10 right now but I got held back a year for , uh..." For punching a boy in the nose in year 7 , giving him concussion and getting myself a six month suspension? Yeah , probably shouldn't mention that. "And then there's you , Allister. The drummer , and pretty boy. Yes , I can definitely see what I'd do with you" For some reason that potentially innocuous sentence made me feel indescribably uncomfortable , and a cold shiver runs through my spine. "Alright boys. Tell you what we'll do. One trial session now , and then if I like it enough I'll issue one of your songs to be released on our label. I think you boys , given the right training and management , could be bigger then the Beatles" Bigger then the Beatles. Jimmy turns to me and the smile that grows on his oh so kissable lips. Holy.shit.

"What type of bs is that?" Rowan cries as he slumps onto the well worn red armchair with a water bottle and a t-shirt more sweat soaked then a marathon runner. His guitar was placed delicately down in the corner , a beautiful relic of Mcfly or Boyzone or some band much better and well known then us. "Why is he the pretty boy? Is it 'cause he's white? Nah , it's definitely cause he's white" Rowan eyes me up and down suspiciously , like I was at all at fault for being the one with the looks , apparently. I didn't see it myself , but a bunch of hot strangers in verious underlit parties couldn't be wrong. "You know I love you buddy , but it's like me and Jimmy have to work twice as hard to do everything. I spent years learning my craft and Jimmy's out here learning to sing with a voice that currently hates him and yet all the Youtube comments are about the hot blonde kid with the drum kit. You know , if I'd rocked up here today with a hoodie over my head and smelling of weed , I'd be instantly thrown out. But when the white kid does it , it's hot , or cool. Your allowed to fuck up so much more then I am , Lister , and you always will be" Rowan says , and I can hear how deeply his words cut into his emotions from the tears that bubble at the corner of his eyes. "Just remember that , yeah? If Noah and the Ark does make it , then you'll always..." Jimmy bounds into the room with his adorable enthusiasm before Rowan can even finish , leaving Rowan just enough time to glare at me and return back to his water. I try not to let it get to me , but he's right. He always is. I can't recall any instance where a band member of colour is the fan favourite , or deny any instance where a white guy fucked up and then bounced straight back into public consciousness the next day. I'd never thought about that before. But I guess Rowan and Jimmy did. I bet they always do. "Alrighty Bird!" Jimmy grins as he reaches for my hand and pulls me to my feet. I try not to let my heart hammer too much. "You ready to become stars?"

We perform , and then walk out of Abby Road like kings. If this is the last time Noah and the Ark ever set foot on scared ground , then I'm gonna remember this day until the day I die. It'll be a humorous story on my wedding day. My kids will be sick of hearing about the time daddy almost became the next Harry Styles. I'll hold my wife's hand in the care home and tell her as she dies that the best day of my life came before we'd ever met. We walk out of the doors like God's , and that's how I want to feel forever. Rowan played that bass guitar like his goddamn life depended on it. I destroyed those drums and gave it all the sex appeal that I could muster. Jimmy sung his little heart out and made the song more emotional then I ever thought it could be. Effiel 65 Blue , Noah and the Ark version. If we never perform it again , then this will go down in history. Everyone in the studio cheered when we were done , and even Terrence the creepy racist popped a smile out of his ass. Whatever happened next , I knew we'd done good. Jimmy's hand brushes mine as he reaches into the coatrack for his schoolbag and phone , and he smiles at me with a childlike grin as a response. "We did it!" He whispers , and suddenly I want to kiss him. Right here , in this dark and empty coatroom with only us and a thousand regrets. It would feel so nice , to be kissed by someone you know likes you for who you are. Not some girl who'd kiss me for a cigarette. Not a boy who makes out with me because he thinks I'm hot. Jimmy , who smiles at me with eyes that light up like it's Christmas. Jimmy , who's been through so much but still has so much love to give. I would kiss him in a heartbeat , but that would ruin everything. Our friendship , the band. So I tear my eyes away from him with a heart that's breaking too much to beat , and return to the desk. Don't cry , Lister. Holy shit , do not cry. Not today. Rowan hugs me tight , and then takes off his id badge and places it on the desk. Jimmy does the same , and prompts me to as well. I look down at the little badge that hung down off my neck and held an awful little photo of post hungover me , and begrudgingly take it off and hand it to the women sitting at the desk. There's two of them , actually , who look so startlingly alike that they must be either twins or have a very good plastic surgeon. The first women smiles at me and then down at my photo , and the second one says "Alright boys , your free to go. As Mr. Oliver says , keep checking your emails over the coming days and good luck!" Jimmy sends her a cheery smile and begins to walk away , followed closely by Rowan and I. "What ya reckon , Bryony? Have they got it?" The first women says , her soft voice echoing around the room. "I think so" says the other , her voice strangely similar to her friends. Alright so they must be twins. "The guitar boys kinda good , right? And the drummers super hot. If he were a year older, I definitely would" I turn to glare at them , trying to show with angry eyes that I didn't much appreciate being sexualised. But they don't pay me a heed of attention. I guess they've got more to important things to think about now , like what else they can modify on their bodies to look more like a set of Barbies. By tomorrow they'll probably have forgotten all about us. Everyone here will. But for one shinning moment , we were stars.