English Rose - liam gallagher fic

*young and invincible*

prologue - december '88

My eyes felt like marbles in my head, rolling around autonomously as my head lolled from one side to the other.

Martha. I'd lost her somewhere in the crowd about halfway through the gig - not that I cared too much, I found myself equidistant between the middle of the crowd and the barrier, and in the company of a lad about my age who was more than willing to share his drugs and whisky with me. But now that the lights had retired and the roadies had come to pack away the instruments, my head was in a flurry as I tried to spot my little friend amongst the tide of bodies.

After about five minutes, I was yet to spot her and so I walked straight outside, leaning against the wall. I reached inside the pocket of my denim jacket, grasping around before finding my packet of tabs. I placed one in my mouth and just as I was about to light it I felt a shove on my arm, and I looked up to see the glorious face of the girl whom I had previously lost.

"Eyar there you are... who've you been necking on with?" Martha asked me with a laugh, noticing my reddened mouth, as the lipstick that I had previously been wearing had smudged over my face.

"Dunno, but he was letting me do keys with him,"

"Fuckin hell man," she laughed in disbelief, being the calmer of the two of us. I was by no means 'off the rails', but an opportunist, and it just so happened to be that the opportunity arose to do keys of cocaine with a fit lad who I had met in the middle of the pit.

"Anyway, we need to go I've blagged us a lift back with some lads in my year," she said, turning and walking hurriedly around the corner of the venue.

There was a minibus parked in a bus stop filling up with a few lads I knew from around town and school, and a couple who were in my year. I noticed there wasn't enough room for me and Martha, as the boys had all taken a seat in each of the grey seats. Martha simply giggled and sat on one of the lads' laps, and their hand rested dangerously high up her thigh, leaving me to gather that this was part of the deal that allowed us to infiltrate their taxi.

"Alright Parko," I said, greeting the lad I knew who was in my year at school, and he tapped his knee with a flustered laugh.

"Cmon then babe," he joked when I stepped into the taxi to go sit with him.

"Right, this is my mate Holly who I was on about," Martha said normally, as in not flirty or anything considering she was sat on some lad's lap, and I returned with an equally as normal but pleasant 'hiya'.

One of the lads who was sat next to Martha and her seat-boy, interrupted the drunken ruckus  to ask us where we're needing to be dropped.

"I'm going Didsbury," Martha said.

"Sound, Parko you're going down that way aren't you?" he continued, directing his question to my good mate Joseph Parker.

"Yeah mate."

"What about you, love?"

"Heaton Chapel for me."

"Are you alright going to Didsbury with Martha cos none of us are going that way."

"Yeah whatever." Orrr for FUCK sake.

We'd just drove out of the centre and it had literally only been about 5 minutes before we got stuck in traffic. I could see from the driver's window the rows of solid red and white tail lights, but I struck up a conversation with the lad next to Parko over whom my legs had ended up.

"So which part are you going?" I asked, absent mindedly wiggling my adidas while simultaneously trying not to get mud on his jeans.

"Heaton Chapel"

"Are ya?"

"Yeah love."

"Eyar mate," I said loudly, calling to the lad from before, "why am I having to go to Didsbury when he's going to Heaton Chapel n'all?"

"Are ya mate?" he said, looking at his friend sat next to me.

"Aye."

"Oh right, sorted then aren't you," he said, turning his cheeks up into a smug smile.