Floating & Flaming - Syd Barrett

The UFO

A/N (reminder): In this universe, Pink Floyd is together and the UFO exists in 1963.

I stood outside the door of the club, unsure of whether or not someone like me would be accepted. I had heard a lot of things about the UFO since Lindsey first declared the master plan to pull off a secret gig. It was filled to the brim with psychedelic light shows, avant garde poetry readings, art displays, and experimental music. I definitely wasn't the type of person one would find casually mingling about the UFO.
I pulled Syd's jacket closer around my shoulders, reminding myself why my crazy friend and I had risked coming here.
I really should give this back to him eventually, I thought. But giving it back meant I wouldn't have assurance that we'd meet again. And when I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, it was almost as if he was right next to me, embracing me.
Snap out of it! I chided myself, You've spoken twice!
As usual, my conscience made a convincing point.
My thoughts traveled to earlier that week.

~~~~~~~

Lindsey had designed posters as invitations to the select group of St. Mary's girls who happened to know of The Pink Floyd, were generally not a drag, or friends of the former two categories.
She and I covertly distributed said posters during passing periods and meal times, nearly getting caught on multiple occasions.
When all was said and done, the total number added up to-
"THIRTY?!" I exclaimed.
"Shhhh!" commanded Sister Bertha, the librarian. Lindsey and I were "studying" in the school library, aka plotting our mass exodus to the UFO club.
"Excuse her, sister," said Lindsey, faking penitence. "Math technical difficulties."
"Are you insane?" I whispered, still flabbergasted.
She winked. "Only a little. We can totally do this. I've got it all worked out."
"Fantastic. Would you mind sharing this work of genius with me to put me a little more at ease?"
Lindsey produced an official-looking document from her bookbag. In bold print across the top, it read, "FIELD TRIP PERMISSION FORM: ST. MARY'S PREPARATORY ACADEMY ASTRONOMY CLUB." Below this was listed all the names of the girls we'd invited plus our own.
"Lindsey, you're a genius! An astronomy club is the perfect excuse to be out all night!" I beamed.
"Complete with a few forged signatures. All we have to do is turn in these 'parent permission forms' - also fabricated by yours truly - to the front office and we're good to go! Richie - I mean Rick - did a similar thing over at the boys' school. They'll be coming by with a school bus around 8 o'clock tomorrow for the girls, but since I'm the mastermind, we can take my Porsche," she explained.
"I cannot believe you've thought of every little thing. You're the greatest best friend anyone could ask for!" I gave her a grateful hug. "I also thought of a couple things myself."
I had arranged for a local shop to donate clothes to the school, saying that we were having a dance and we had nothing to wear other than our uniforms. The shop girl was sympathetic, and told me to name the number of outfits when I knew how many I needed.

~~~~~~~

So, there I was. All the other students had entered the club directly off the bus, and Lindsey had gone quickly inside to catch Rick before the show.
I inhaled deeply, and was about to make my entrance when the flash of a lighter caught the corner of my eye.
"Quite the stunt Rick and your friend pulled tonight," remarked a familiar voice.
I turned to look in the direction of the sound and was greeted by Roger, leaning against a lamppost, smoking a cigarette. He wore pink sunglasses despite the darkness.
"Well, they figured that since this is your first real club gig, that you would like a crowd of familiar faces to support you," I said, preparing to stand my ground.
"And do you believe that?" he asked, taking a drag of the cigarette and a step toward me. "That a bunch of close-minded, brainwashed school children would support our music? Would they even listen? Or care?" He loomed above me, almost a full foot.
I stared him straight in the eye, straight through his glasses and his armor.
"Why do you think they even agreed to come here, Roger? Many of them are just like you and me. They long for something different. Something new. They want to access aspects of life that have been closed off to them since they were young. What's the purpose of your music, if you're just going to keep it within a certain sphere of people? That would be selfish. I think you're masking your fear of what your peers think behind a wall of pretension. You have such talent, Roger. Don't waste it."
And with that, I turned away from a very stunned bass player, and walked through the doors.
Inside, it was a dreamscape. Projected light, in a rainbow of wild colors, danced over familiar and unfamiliar faces. Art unlike I'd ever seen covered one wall opposite the stage. People gathered around small, round tables chatting philosophy and sipping coffee. Others admired the artwork and the lights. Many of my schoolmates were getting along swimmingly with their male counterparts, closer to the stage. The hum of conversation was the only noise in the space.
We all anticipated the Floyd's arrival.
My eyes swept the room, searching for my friend. Luckily, I didn't have to wait long.
"Piper! Where were you? They're starting soon! I wish you would've come backstage with me. I could tell a certain individual was disappointed that you weren't there," Lindsey said with a nudge, "We've got to get to the front again!"
As if it was becoming a habit, Lindsey guided me through the crowd, throwing elbows and not apologizing.
At the moment of our arrival, the four figures walked onstage. A cheer erupted, magnified tenfold in the closed space.
To the surprise of no one on the entire planet, Syd was ethereally gorgeous. In a fluid motion, he slung his Telecaster over his shoulder. Did he have to make it look so good?
"Good evening, UFO," he said in that soft voice of his. I heard audible sighs from girls around me and felt a bit possessive. I reminded myself that we weren't together. "We're The Pink Floyd, and we'd love to bring you along on this little adventure with us."
I could tell by looking at each band member that the energy was up. Pure adrenaline surged from the stage through the crowd below. The powerful riff from what I later discovered to be "Interstellar Overdrive" caused us to be drawn in and exhilarated.
A few more mind-bending songs followed, one in which Rick took lead vocals. Lindsey was struck into total captivated silence, a state that I had never seen her in.
In a break between songs, Roger walked over to Syd and whispered something. Syd nodded and gestured toward Rick and Nick. My curiosity spiked.
"Thank you. Now, for something completely new and never heard before, my good friend Roger will present one of his own compositions."
I felt nervous. I wondered if Roger still felt contempt toward me or the students there, but all my doubts were washed away as a series of haunting notes filled the club.
Syd stepped back as he played, his head down and eyes closed in focus. Rick created an eerie atmosphere with chimes and similar sound effects. Nick played an almost ritualistic, urgent beat with his mallets. The lanky bass player, who I had been so intimidated by, held one hand to the side of his face, and the other to the microphone. He didn't open his eyes, completely entranced in every element of the moment.
"Little by little the night turns around," he began to sing. His voice was definitely very different from the one I'd grown accustomed to, but it mesmerized me nonetheless.
Everyone in the room became reverent. It was the most religious I'd ever seen my schoolmates. That's the only way I can describe the first time I heard "Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun." Religious.
A well-deserved raucous round of applause followed. Roger was awoken from his trance and even cracked a hint of a smile. He looked around the room. I may have been completely mental, but it seemed as if he looked at me a bit too long.
I was probably overthinking things as usual.
Syd returned to his original place. The galactic light show shifted over his frame, complimenting his violet eyes. I tried to memorize each detail of how he looked up there, engraving it in my mind.
"For our final piece-" The crowd groaned. Syd chuckled. "I'm just as disappointed as you are, ladies and gentlemen. But all things must come to an end eventually. This is something I recently put to music. It started as a poem." He glanced down at me and smiled. My heart went double-time.
The final song was much more upbeat, causing the teenagers around me to pair up and dance. A boy tried to take my hand, but Lindsey gave him a look that could kill, and he understood that she and I were staying put.
"Emily tries, but misunderstands. She's often inclined to borrow somebody's dreams 'til tomorrow," Syd sang, causing my face to flush with heat.
Was this song... for me?
I couldn't quite believe it was true. I enjoyed every second of it, but it never fully dawned on me until the last verse. "Float on a river, forever and ever, Emily."
That line had jumped out at me from Syd's poetry book the night he snuck through my window. I was awestruck.
The band jammed on for awhile longer, each showcasing their incredible talents. The room was alive with movement, laughter, and excitement. And with a final smash of Nick's cymbals, it was over.
"Goodnight, Cambridge!" Syd proclaimed. Each musician nodded to the crowd before walking offstage.
Well, except for Nick, who shouted into the mic, "All students, to the bus! We're camping out under the stars!" Those he addressed let out a shout of approval and rushed out to get on the bus.
Meanwhile, Lindsey led me to a door labeled "STAGE DOOR - AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY," which she understood as more of a suggestion, and walked right in.
The three remaining boys were packing up their instruments, laughing and talking about their successful UFO debut.
"Fantastic job, boys! Very impressive!" Lindsey declared, mostly directed toward Rick.
"Thanks, Lin. It really wouldn't have been the same without you and Piper's help," said Rick, taking Lindsey's hand before putting his arm around her shoulders.
I saw Syd start to say something, but he was quickly cut off by Roger, "And what did you think, Piper?" he asked intently.
"I thought it was brilliant, of course! Those last two songs left me totally speechless. I honestly had to take a moment to figure out where I was and compose myself," I said, laughing lightly.
Roger smirked a little, satisfied.
Syd beamed at me. "I'm so glad."
"Are we all ready to sleep together?" Lindsey asked boldy.
Rick choked and coughed in a fit. Roger became very interested in his bass case. Syd blushed and laughed nervously.
I exclaimed, "What!?"
"In sleeping bags. Under the stars. The campout? Remember? What did you think I mean?" she said, knowing full well what she was doing. Suddenly, her mouth fell open in mock surprise, "Shame on you! Such dirty minds! I could call the headmasters and have you all suspended!"
We all laughed together at our awkwardness. I noticed how when Syd laughed, it was full and genuine. He would just glow.
"I've got four seats in the Porsche. I'll drive. Rick, you get shotgun. That leaves Syd, Roger, and Piper to share the bench seat in the back," said Lindsey, grabbing the keys from her purse and Rick's hand.
I glanced at the two remaining musicians.
Oh, no. This is going to be very awkward.