Red

Part 10

You turn down the opportunity to watch the band from the coveted spot at the side of the stage, opting instead for the venue main floor, bagging prime position up against the barrier before the crowds start to flood in. You feel uneasy being around Larry now that your head's starting to fill with uncertainties, terrified that you'll let them show before you've had the time to process them and work out exactly what they mean for the future of your relationship. You just want to lose yourself in the music for a few hours, let loose and bounce to the beat, let the melodies flow through your veins and the lyrics scorch your throat as you sing them as loud as you can. A carefree state where your doubts and your desires cease to exist.

You weren't banking on Sophie following you down though as you jumped from the stage and took your position just off centre of the mic, leaning against the metal barrier.

"Thought you'd wanna be up there in the wings, you know... like a proper rockstar's girlfriend." You nudge her gently with your elbow, nodding towards the side of the stage where you can just see Larry emerging with a handful of setlists.

"I was tempted." She smiles in a cat-that-got-the-cream kind of way. "That was kind of like my goal every time I came to a show before, but now I know I can do it, that's enough for me. To be honest I'd rather be down here in the thick of it, you can't beat the atmosphere... and besides, this'll be the best view of Van!"

You smile weakly. Maybe in another life you two could have been close friends, but not this life. You can't help the sickly taste of jealousy that rises like bile in your throat whenever you imagine her and Van together.

Pretty soon the crowds start to fill out the venue and Larry brings you both another pint each. The small talk between you and Sophie flows easily enough but you're still relieved when the support band come on as a distraction. Then it's not long before the main event and you feel your heart thudding in anticipation.

You've been to many a Catfish show but not like this. Before you used to scoff at Van's stage theatrics, rolling your eyes every time a swing of his hips set off a chorus of screams from the female fans, looking on with bemusement at their enraptured expressions. Now you're the one caught in a trance, not able to take your eyes off him as he puts his all into the performance, his lithe body twisting and turning as he thrashes about with his guitar, his skin glistening with a sheen of sweat under the stage lights.

You want him so bad it's a physical ache.