Getaway

[05] You're a Dancer, Not a Loser

Blu realised he was going to get caught having so many illegal substances on him. So he rang up to get through to a local, and where better to find one than Jayla's phone.

"Hey," sprawled across the top bunk of the tour bus, light flickering on and off as it buzzes with a fault in the electricity, Jayla struggles with Blu for her phone, "Give it back!"

"Nah ah," tuts Blu, putting it to his ear, sitting, legs dangling over the edge, smothering Jayla's face in a sweaty t-shirt.

Muffled, she attempts to retort back at him, "Muh-mehah!"

"Hello, there," he sounds so stately, "Is this Sir Orlo Rexx?"

Orlo. Orlo Rexx. Jayla recognises the name. She is a bit high. But then it hits her. Oh my god. It can't be.

"Shitloads." The sweat soaked fabric is lifted from her face and she gasps for air, swiping her hair off her face, and sitting up, staring in shock at Blu.

"Around £3500," Blu muses, touching his toes on Jayla's.

"Yeah, sure," he nods.

Not able to bear the curiosity any more, Jayla puts down the crumpled Wilkinson's receipt she was fiddling with and puts her ear to the receiver as Blu switches ears.

A familiar voice. The voice of her ex boyfriend. The tall brown haired one with milky skin and a gaping walk, a Rolex watch and a chocolate Labrador called Jpeg. The Orlo who was in a band What Comes to Mind, the irresponsible 'friend' who crashed the car with her in it and had to carry her into A&E at hospital and stay the night with her there as she got her arm put in a sling. Orlo she once knew so well. Now turned crack addict. She knew nothing else of him. Home sounds so far away over the phone, and fake through the plastic, the smell of weed encircling it.

"Erm, I'm also bringing a Dance Machine," he says in his signature cute northern accent.

Immediately Blu's reaction is of disgust, but Jayla begins to beam with excitement, pinging the wooden bracelet beads against Blu's wrist as he leans on it.

Orlo's voice carries on sounding tentative.

"I hope you don't mind, but I need you to take it from me. It was stolen recently and the fair people are local and I can't afford to be caught, so I need you to take it to Glasgow tomorrow, please?"

Blu is wary.

Having overheard everything, Jayla is so excited. So she insists Blu does it, begging him please. So he does.

"So Orlo, is coming to take your drugs," Jayla summarises, counting the events on her fingers, the chipped blue and pink nail polish stylishly glinting in the shabby surroundings and synthetic light.

"Shh!" Blu presses his finger to her lips, and she licks it laughing.

"And, then you give him the money," she continues, and he nods. "And then," suddenly the clock falls off the wall and into the sink with a clatter. Blu gets down to fix it, wires dangling everywhere. "The bus, gets a DDR Dance Machine!"

"Bingo!" Blu smiles at her, chucking the broken clock over his shoulder, back in the metal sink.

Yanking and throwing off her top, Jayla jumps off the bunk to the floor, plugs a cable into her phone, and cranks up the hi-fi system, the sounds of Well, Heaven Sucks! By Death To The Skies making the whole van shake as she jumps up and down yelling, "Crank it up, up, up, up..." Blu laughs and skips over to join her.

"The downfall of us all!" he yells, and Jayla is taken aback. He knows the words? Sick.

"All the way down..." They growl, both topless just visible through the slightly drawn curtains over the van's kitchen window, hysterical laughter plastered across both their faces, curdles of smoke twisting around their sweaty bodies.

---

Asleep, hot, still sweaty and tired, but peaceful in Blu's tattooed arms...

Awoken by the rattling of a fist being slammed on the whimsy plastic table, multiple times, and then scolded to a start by burning hot coffee as it spills down the side of the table top and onto her bare shoulders. Ugh. What the hell?

"Ow!" Jayla screams, wincing and furling into the sheets, to see Finn, red eyed and tired but definitely furious, fist clenched on the table. The drummer is staring at a worried-looking Blu, who is sat opposite him, turning over a yellow lighter in his left hand.

Why are they arguing now? Surely Finn should be happy? He just spent the night with his girl... and away from Blu...

Then she realises. The shit load of money Blu payed Orlo to stash his drugs for him. It wasn't Blu's bank account he was drawing it from all night. It was Finn's. Uh oh. Think Quick.

"Finn, that money. It was me. I'm sorry... I... I don't know." Jayla sits up, and wipes some of the coffee off her shoulder with a dry bit of the sheet. "I'm not used to drugs," she continues, "I've never taken them before. And I was so excited when I saw the DDR Dance Machine at the fair, that I begged the guy to give it to me."

Finn's look is one of confusion.

Blu is trying to hold back a grin of relief and amusement.

"Eventually, I started making offers, and before I knew it I had spent all the money in the bus, which was your £3500... on this machine..." She steps out of bed, T-shirt narrowly covering her pants, her ass showing as she tiptoes over to the corner where a black groundsheet is pulled over a large object that was never there before. McDonalds packets, jeans, belts and guitar cables, as well as set-list drafts, paper with scribbled lyrics and pens are scattered around it in a dishevelled heap on the floor.

"I am so, so sorry." Jayla lifts the black sheet.

There is a silence.

Before it's broken by Finn's delight. "Oh my god. That's a record bargain! I have always wanted one of those machines on the bus!" Euphoria rushes through his speech and Jayla and Blu both know that he is not being sarcastic. He is truly enthralled.

At that, the bearded man leaps across the table and hugs Jayla tight, rocking her side to side.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," he kisses her head many times and then runs over to it, and starts it up, the cheesy Japanese bitpop dance music smiling into the fresh sunshine of this new day. They had arrived in Glasgow for the last show of their UK Tour. Blu was going home tomorrow. Jayla felt a sudden wash of gloom hang over her. Even as the bright light kissed the moment as the two of them sat together, watching Finn stomp about at full speed to Cotton Eye Joe on Intermediate... She knew this adventure would all soon be coming to an end.

Blu turns and winks at her. Jayla knows in that moment she saved their friendship. With Orlo's help. Even if it was by accident. Criminal ex-boyfriend as he is... It seemed he would always be the one helping when it came to the crunch.

"I'm gonna miss you," Blu says, beating Jayla to it.

"I'm gonna miss you too," she sniffles.

Then they both laugh as Finn slips fatally over, tripping on his jeans and landing flat on his face, the pink and blue arrows still sliding boppily up and down over the game-play screen.

"You know, that actually looks like some first class fun," says Blu, getting up and stretching dramatically over his head. Finn walks over towards him, out of breath, happier than Jayla has ever seen him.

"Your turn," and he pats Blu on the back.

"Two player!" screams Jayla, running with him to get there first so she could choose the song, it had to be 'Nori, Nori, Nori'.

"Aw, you gotta put money in it," cries Blu pulling out his empty pocket linings and Jayla laughs as Finn chucks four pound coins into the air, narrowly missing their heads.

"Now get on up and dance!" he yells ecstatic.