Ain't No Hometown Girl

The Gig

The train rumbles up to the station. To my Strypes-addled mind, every squeak and click sounds like some part of one of their songs. I clutch at my seat in excitement. Whilst I was over the moon to have finally got tickets to go see them, I was also incredibly nervous. What if I met them? What if they look at me and I mucked it up? My brain is working overtime.

Luckily, my best friend Annie is there to pull me up and through the doors before we miss our stop. She has always been the more sensible of us two.

'Wake up! I'm already doing you a favour by coming, I don't want to drag you round all evening too' she mutters.

That's another thing. Annie hates the Strypes. I had to bribe her into coming with a new jacket. She moans all the way to the venue about every little detail and by the time we get there I'm sick of her. I make my way to the bathroom.

I peer anxiously in the grimy mirror and apologise to a woman trying to get past to wash her hands. I tug at my denim shorts, suddenly feeling self conscious. I wish I'd bought a jumper, the sloganned top I'm wearing making me cold. I take one more minute to smooth down my tangly hair and I go back to find Annie amidst the huge crowd that has gathered to see the talented band play.

I find her standing right at the back, scowling. I urge her to move closer to the stage but she refuses. On one hand, I do want to be closer to the stage but on the other, I really can't risk being separated from her. Even though I'm 15, my parents still aren't happy that I'm going to a gig without an adult and are making me stick with her all night. Reluctantly, I remain next to Annie.

Then, the lights dim, the roadies and support band shuffle offstage and the famous foursome walk onstage.

***

Two hours later and the best night of my life so far is over. Despite having spent most of the gig at the back of the room, I still had an amazing time. I swear Ross looked at me during Mystery Man, though maybe it was just the shades.

Exhilarated, I jump outside with Annie traipsing behind me. Or so I thought. I turn round to ask her about train times and she's gone. How ironic. I'd managed to stick with her all evening and then as soon as I'm sure she's there she's gone.

Panicked, I rush back inside, fighting my way through the crowd. I hear one guy shout at me that I'm going the wrong way. Who cares. I need to find Annie.

I look in the hall, the toilets, by the bar: she's nowhere. By this point I'm tired and increasingly worried. I stumble down one corridor and lope through some double doors and find myself outside the venue. I am about to give up hope and announce to my parents that I am not to be trusted when I spy her sitting on a low wall checking her phone.

We eye each other suspiciously.

'I hope you enjoyed that gig, it was terrible' she sneers. Sometimes I wonder why she's my best friend.

Before I could reply however, a low male voice with a lilt replies for me.

'That's not very nice now, is it?'

I spin round so fast I see stars. Stood there by the doors is Josh McClorey, grinning his cheeky grin.