Bass

Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Charlie

“Wait. Wait, repeat the last thing you just said.” 

After a very long meeting with the CEO of Sony, Mr. Skinner, Simon returned to his office in good spirits where I was waiting anxiously. Simon had been telling me the full story of his predicament: the drummer of his boy bands’ live band had broken his wrist the night before and they needed an emergency backup who could play the drums and fitted with the band’s young and fun image. Apparently I looked reasonably young and fun. 

“I said the Melbourne concert is tonight so we have to get you prepped and ready for performing.” Simon explained as he paced around his office. I still sat nervously in the chair.

“I can’t play tonight! I don’t know any of the songs. “

“The drum beats are easy. And you have natural talent. You can pull it off.”

“What if I can’t? What if I fall on my face in front of everyone?”

“You sit down when you play the drums.” 

“That’s hardly the point. I need more time.”

“I’ll give you 2 hours.”

“More than that! I take two hours to make a sandwich!”

“I highly doubt that.” 

“So I’m exaggerating. So what? Can’t you call off the concert?”

Simon ignored my suggestion and sat down at his desk in deep thought.

“We can’t tell anybody about this. If one person knows then it’s only a second before everyone knows and you get fired. And I have no one else who can drum like you.” He turned to me. “You’re performing tonight and that’s that.”

“What about my outfit? I need to look like a boy to be a boy.”

Suddenly Simon reached under the desk and pulled out a fat plastic bag. 

“I’ve got it covered.”

Before I knew it Simon had grabbed my arm and led me out of the office. To my surprise the whole office was empty and the time said 7:00. How long had I been there? I must have gotten completely carried away.

Simon led me to the bathrooms. Instinctively I went for the women’s toilets but Simon stopped me, waving his finger in my face.

“Remember, Vic, you’re a boy now.”

To my disgust Simon pushed me into the boy bathrooms and handed me the plastic bag with force.

“Change quickly. I’ll help you with the wig when you get out.”

Simon had a determined look in his eyes as I shuffled into one of the cubicles, locking the door behind me. I took a look in the plastic bag. From what I could see there was a pair of jeans, a plain black shirt, dark blue blazer, white socks and white vans, a skin coloured bandana of some sort and a sandy blonde wig.

I took off my floral dress and shoes and put on the outfit in the bag. The pants were a tad to big but the blazer and shirt fitted perfectly. Honestly, I was a bit confused. What kind of boy group wears blazers? I guess I was going to find out.

“I’m ready.” I opened the door and looked in the mirror. Darn. I still looked like a girl.

“Why did you put the chest strap on your head?” Asked Simon, staring at the bandana.

“I thought it was a headband of some sor-... wait, did you say chest strap?”

“Lads don’t have breasts.”

“So you’re saying I have to tie this,” I ripped the strap from my head, “around my boobs?”

“Yes.” Well, he told the truth. I gave him that much.

“Ummm... ok.”

Simon sprung into action as I awkwardly removed my bra. He wound the band round my chest until under the shirt; I really did look flat chested.

The wig was easy. I twisted my hair around my head and Simon pulled the wig over it. Now I looked like a guy.

“Now say ‘I like football, the drums, and hot girls’.” Simon said.

“I’m not going to say that. That’s weird.”

My frigid attitude had obviously taken the last straw, as Simon came extremely close and his eyes turned to slits.

“Miss Reilly, I have been tolerant with your princess act but I’m sick of you saying no to what I say to do. I’m trying to help you. Without me, you’re screwed.” He said with poison. I was extremely intimidated.

“I like football, the drums, and hot girls.” I said in a low manly (but a bit freaked out) voice.

“Nice save.” He said, sighing and smiling as though nothing had happened. I decided from then on I was going to be really kind to Simon just in case he had another outburst.

“I should probably tell my mum about this. She hates it when I’m gone.”

Simon shook it off. “You can tell her later. We have a concert to do.”

***

Simon and I quickly chose my guy name which, at the time, I was convinced sounded like a stripper name but Simon assured me it was ‘classy and memorable’. We ran down the flights of stairs two at a time (remember, the elevators were broken) and rushed into a sleek black BMW. After freaking out in the car for the fifth time, Simon and I finally arrived at the venue, the Hisense Arena. The grounds outside the arena were packed. Squealing girls and boys (mostly girls) packed the streets and courtyards around the big glass doors that lead to seating in the arena. Instead of joining the flow of people the car lead us around the huge structure and down a car park opening around the back. We were soon parked in a spot and I got out slowly, still clutching my bag I had put on with my dress this afternoon. Simon grabbed the bag and threw it into the car before adding a few bracelets around my wrist.

“Finishing touch.” He said.

With his hand around my back and clutching at my shoulder he led me through to an elevator near the car. I realized I was breathing pretty heavily and tried to control myself as Simon pressed ‘ground level’ on the elevator panel. He patted my back enthusiastically before the elevator came to an abrupt halt.

The doors slid open to a rush of people going along the concrete hallway we were about to enter. Some had makeup brushes in their hands, some had huge earphones on their heads, but all were carrying some kind of sound equipment.

We entered the hall and followed the flow of people along the passage. A woman with headphones and a clipboard grabbed Simon and I and pulled us to the side so people could continue to pass us. She went on to talk about something to do with the projector being faulty and a missing a microphone.

I began to tune out and for no real reason looked behind me and down the hall. And that’s when I saw him.

He was smiling and laughing and had his arms folded over his broad chest. He had a red polo shirt with white jeans and black vans. His sky blue eyes where kind and his light blonde hair seemed to glow even in the dim light. The flurry of panic and rush of the hall seemed to contrast with his cool and laidback persona like black and white. I found myself smiling at him and all my fears and nerves seemed to be silently washed away. He caught my eye and I quickly looked away. But it was too late. I heard him approach me and could see his black vans in front of mine.

“Simon, is this the new drummer?”

I couldn’t see Simons answer but he didn’t say anything so I guessed he had nodded.

“Well, alright then. I’m Niall by the way. What’s your name?”

I looked straight up into his eyes and cleared my throat.

“Nice to meet you, Niall. I’m Charlie. Charlie Golden.”