Oxygen (Catfish And The Bottlemen/1975)

Fliss

"Heeeeeeyyy Lyla," I sang softly rocking the little girl gently whilst we waited for Van and the lads to meet us on our little picnic bench back stage.

It was late now and she was half asleep, head lolled against my chest as Katie sat beside me plaiting her hair, looking over her shoulder every now and then in anticipation of benji.

We'd decided to hang around the stage for a little while after they'd finished their set, still clinging to the hope that Lyla's mam might return but we'd known all along that she never would and now we were left wondering what to do without her.

Saff and Alice were long gone, sitting back in a different field with Jazz lying back in their laps, the three of them already half way to a wild night. The longer I held little Lyla in my arms and thought about the sort of woman who would leave her tiny little girl in the middle of a festival field, the more I envied the alcohol in their hands and the drugs I knew they'd have slipped beneath their tongue.

A slight breeze disturbed the stillness with which we had tried to surround ourselves with, the echo of "soundcheck" and "7" drifting in from some distant part of the campsite. I wondered who was singing and who was falling over, and where the lad who had written those songs was, whether he could hear them all shouting his lyrics long after he'd left the stage.

"Interesting choice for a plus one you've got there," when I looked up to see who had spoken I found myself a little stunned biting my lip to hold back a smile, "sorry," he chuckled, "I'm Luke," he gave me a smile and held out his hand and I gave him a smile back, a smile and a pathetic excuse for a handshake, struggling to take my eyes off the mess of curly hair and the familiar scruffy skinny jean style every lad in an indie band seems to cherish.

"I know," I smirked, "I'm Fliss," he smirked then, "and this is Katie," I had almost forgotten about my friend sitting beside me, shed shrunk into her denim jacket and her pinafore, silent as you like, hiding behind her fringe and watching timidly. When I spoke she forced a smile but she hardly met his gaze, only entertaining him more. I couldn't blame her though, I'd fancied Luke Pritchard since I was 12 years old, even I was a little stuck for something to say.

"I know," he nodded to the seat beside me and when I smiled he shoved his hands in his pockets and sat down, "you know im looking forward to seeing your set sunday," he carried on watching the sporadic trickle of people stumbling down the path a little way away from us. There was a group of teenagers a few meters to our left, they were lying down, some sprawled and stretched out, some rolling around, wrestling with one another in mud. All of them wore the same giddy glazed expressions and Luke smirked as his eyes followed them around.

"Don't ask, I have no clue what they've taken," he chuckled at that, flashing me another smile as I continued, "bring all your pals an I'll dedicate a song to yous," i teased about to say something else when I felt a pair of hands clamp down on my shoulders and a voice reverberating by my ear.

"Found someone better than me have yous," vans breath tickled my skin as he teased me and sent a shiver down my spine. "Lukazaide lid, didn't think I'd be seein yous until tomorrow!" He grinned pulling luke into a hug. "Not givin yous any trouble are they? Heard Fliss has got a massive crush on you," he winked laughing when I told him to fuck off.

"Oh really?" He smirked eyes flickering over me before resting on Van with a mischievous glint when they caught the lights from the arcade near by and reflected them back at me, "cause that's not what Bondys told me,"

For a second they shared a silent conversation, a strange lingering look whilst the rest of us were left to watch and wonder what they meant. The air between them seemed to bristle, Van stiffening beside me, a little lost for words.