Bad Blood

1.

I packed up my things from my desk, various pieces of paper and clippings, and was heading to the door like a woman on a mission. I couldn't wait to get home, go for a little run, then have a bath and a nice early night. It had been such a long, stressful week with lots of deadlines to meet. But tomorrow was Friday and then I'd have a nice weekend of doing nothing. My hand was on the door handle when I heard a familiar voice behind me.

'Grace, are you busy tonight?' My boss, Angie. She knew exactly how to get me. I had never said no to working extra projects. I needed the money and I certainly needed the credit. I smiled and shook my head.

'Where?' I asked simply.

'Well, Maria was meant to be going to Alexandra Palace tonight to cover the gig there and she's just found out she can't make it. You live near there, right?'

'Ok.' I said. I headed back into the office, following her. She took out two tickets, backstage passes and a note book from her desk and handed them to me. I looked at the name on the ticket, 'Bastille.' She must've read my face; I'd never heard of them.

'They're this British band, just won a Brit award and are doing really well. Maria wrote up some questions in that note book but you've got time to add your own.'

'Thanks.' I told her. It should be her thanking me for saving her arse again.

'Anytime.' She smiled sweetly.

At least my housemate Olivia would be pleased; she loved a free gig. I normally would too, but I had no idea who they were and all I wanted was my bed. On the tube ride home I had a quick google of them but kept losing the signal on my phone. The questions Maria had jotted down were fairly basic, 'why the name Bastille?' 'What inspires you?' 'When is the new album out?'. I couldn't think of much more else to ask. My journalism mainly covered film and television, not music.

Olivia was already home when I arrived back to our flat. I put the tickets down in front of her. Her reaction was not one I expected.

'Are you actually kidding me?!' She squealed and threw her arms around me. Her pretty face was full of pure joy.

'No...what? Why?'

'I asked you months ago if you could get us in and you said you'd sort it and I left it cos I figured you couldn't do it and... Grace, I actually love you.'

'I take it they're good then?'

'Good?!'

'I don't even know who they are...'

'Can I interview them? Can I do it?'

'Um, sure.'

'Honestly, this is like the best day of my life. I can't even believe it.'

She was so excited in the ten minute taxi ride down the road. I, on the other hand, was struggling to stay awake. She chatted incessantly at me about the band. About how good they were and that she couldn't believe I'd never heard of them. I just wanted a nap.

'They're so good! And the lead singer is pretty hot too.' She always made me laugh when she spoke about boys. We were roughly the same age but our views on men differed greatly. She fell for every guy who looked her way. I regarded them all suspiciously. In the ten years I'd known and lived with her, she'd had a dozen boyfriends. I'd had exactly zero. And I intended to keep it that way.

We'd been here a few times before. I loved the big old building, standing so grand on top of a hill over looking all of London. We could see for miles, all the way from Wembley arena to the London Eye, Square Mile and the O2. I breathed in the fresh air, so rare in the centre where were lived.