Unrequited

Chapter 7 (Part 1)

When I woke late the next morning, I found Mum on the couch in her dressing gown watching the news. “Morning honey,” she said as I joined her, curled up in my pyjamas.  It reminded me of school holidays when I was younger and I’d wake up early just to scramble into Mum’s bed to watch all the usual morning shows and then plan the rest of our day, which usually included many different coffee/hot chocolate stops. Her job now involved more rigorous work however, and my holidays now mostly consisted of extended stays at my aunty’s or my nana’s. “Late start this morning?” I asked her. By now I’d expected her to have been at rehearsals for three hours already. “Yeah, Sam thought it was best,” she said, her voice a little weary. “The boys were exhausted after last night. It will take them a little while to get into the routine of headlining a tour.”

“Mm. So what are we doing today then?” I asked.

“Well, I have to be at rehearsals in an hour, honey. There’s a second show tonight at the same arena so we don’t need to do much. Just a quick run through of the songs and I need to check over all the technical things and make sure it’s all in order.” She ruffled my hair, “I promise we’ll go out to dinner one night though, sweetheart. Just us two. Can’t neglect my own daughter!” she said brightly, pulling me in for a hug.

Finding no interest in staying in a hotel room for the day, I invited myself along to rehearsals. Mum reintroduced me to a sort of childhood friend, Max who controlled lighting. He reminded me of the times when I was little he used to let me sit on his lap at work parties while Mum went around having tedious conversations with people in boring monotone suits who were ten feet taller than me. He taught me how to play Twinkle Twinkle Little Star on the piano in a boardroom at Crown back home after a press release one day and swung me around in the big spinny chair in the Rod Laver Arena control room - that game ended when my foot kicked a switch, plunging half the stadium into darkness. Looking back on these memories of Max, I realised it was quite probable he’d had a bit of a thing with my mother at some point or another but that was too awkward to think about. “I can’t believe how much you’ve grown!” he kept saying incredulously. 

“Well it has been about ten years, Max. Did you still expect me to be running around with my Baby Born and colouring book?” I said.

“Not exactly,” he laughed, “But you’re so tall!”

“Oh come off it!” I sniggered. “Now, teach me how this all works,” I said, gesturing to the millions of buttons and switches on the control board in front of us. We were in the control room of the arena with a window looking out onto the stage and all the seats. It looked especially huge without all the people in it.

“I doubt we have time to go through everything but I’ll show you what I can as the boys run through some songs.” He let me wear a headset and I could hear all the signals and orders coming in from backstage. The fun began when I realised the boys had earpieces too. They wouldn’t be able to speak back to me but that made my plan all the more hilarious. “How do I send a message to the boys’ earpieces?” I asked Max. 

“How do I already know you’re going to use that skill for evil?” he said with a knowing smile.

“Because anybody with access to all this,” I said, gesturing to the control panel, “would be tempted to have some fun with it at some point. You can’t honestly tell me you’ve never played some tricks.”

Max grinned. “Once I was working as an assistant to the most horrible effects manager in the whole industry. We were working on a one off performance for The Wanted that was being recorded and the guy was so awful to me I was just about ready to walk out. So, I decided before I left I’d make my time working for him at least a little worthwhile. For one song, we had a spotlight for when one of the boys would sing a solo verse, right? Their instructions were to follow the spotlight around stage instead of the light following them so it wouldn’t look too rehearsed. Anyways so poor Nathan comes up for his solo and at first I moved the spotlight slowly and then I pick up the pace so he’s darting around the stage practically sprinting to keep up. My boss was so furious, I swear I feared for my life,” he chuckled. “He fired me on the spot!”

“See!” I burst out. “You had your moment! Pleeeaaasseee let me have mine! It’s only rehearsals!” Max sighed in defeat. “Alright, alright! You’ll have to use this if you want specific people to hear what you’re saying though,” he said handing me a little walkie-talkie like contraption. He showed me five buttons with the letters ‘Z’, ‘Lo’, ‘N’, ‘H’ and ‘Li’ stuck to them with sticky tape along with others that were the headsets of various people behind the scenes, including my mother. “You push down whichever ones you want to speak to. Let me hear what you’re saying though,” he warned, a worried look on his face. We watched through the window as the boys started their next song on stage. Now was my chance. Max fiddled with slides and switches beside me while I let out all my giggles and cleared my throat. I pushed down the button with ‘H’ (for Harry) on it and then the button with ‘Light Control HS#1’, feeling Max watching me out of the corner of his eye. I started with something not too out of the ordinary; “Harry, could you sing a little louder please, we’re not picking up your voice”. Max laughed and whispered, “You sound just like your mother!” I gave him the thumbs up and went back to watching the boys who were standing in a line on stage as they sang the first chorus. “Harry your fly’s undone,” I told him, struggling to keep my voice straight, almost losing control when he subtly looked down to check his pants. Niall’s solo started on the second verse but I kept speaking into Harry’s earpiece, thinking of ways I could make it seem like he was trying to steal the spotlight from his bandmates. Poor Harry thought the directions were going to all the boys, not just him. “Alright, now could you start down the runway and touch the hands of some fans as you go.” Off Harry went on his own, hand outstretched to fans that weren’t there, only realising he was alone when he got to the end of the runway. He turned to the other boys who looked a little confused but they followed him when he beckoned them over nonetheless. The giggles were even harder to keep down now but I was nowhere near finished. At the second chorus, the dancers came on stage. About ten young female dancers sauntered on stage beginning their choreography. The boys moved back down the runway, continuing with the song as they would have done usually. “Okay, boys we’re going to try something new now,” I said in an authoritative voice, still only really speaking to Harry and Max. “Alright, could you move back and copy the dancers’ choreography? That’s right, Harry.” I had to cover the radio as I shook with laughter while Harry tried to keep up with the dancers along with his confused expression as his band mates did not carry out the orders they were given. With his natural performing instinct, he tried to keep a straight face and kept going. I retained my act and ‘asked’ the other boys why they weren’t joining in, mimicking my mother’s sharp tone just as I’d heard it the day that poor Daniel boy forgot to tape some wires down. “Harry, could you pick up that blonde girl on the left there, just so I can see how it fits in with the song?” At this point, Max was practically rolling on the floor with laughter as a bewildered Harry tried to lift the even more startled dancer. She swatted him away and I watched through the tears streaming down my face as he pointed to his earpiece trying to explain what he’d been told to do. The other boys looked equally as dumbfounded and had stopped singing and Niall, staying true to character, burst out laughing. I knew the show was over when my mother marched out on stage, waving her arms for the music to stop. Still in fits of laughter, I watched her speaking sternly to the boys and the dancers when realisation flitted across her face and she turned to squint up at the window behind which me and Max were sitting. She adjusted the microphone on her headset and her voice came flooding into my ears. “Charlotte. Game’s over. Stop mucking about and go and sit in one of the dressing rooms.” 

“Alright, alright. You can’t say it wasn’t funny though,” I said through the last of my giggles. She rolled her eyes. “Charlotte. Away from Control please.” And there was no arguing with my mother.