Band On The Run

Suck It And See

Sitting cross legged on the ground, I pushed the empty cardboard box behind me with the rest and placed the photo frame in my hand on the ground.

Sighing I cupped my chin in my hands, staring around at what was spread across the ground before me.

I’d opened every single box I’d kept stored since I moved into the apartment, the things gave off a stale scent and some of it was faded, but it looked exactly how I remembered. It had taken me hours to do, the gleam of the morning sun was peeking through the large windows into my apartment, but I wasn’t sparing it a moment to consider the morning.

Almost all the things spread across the ground might look like rubbish to most people. I honestly couldn’t say why I saved these things over all these years. The photographs, framed diamond records and awards made sense, but the pieces of stray paper, throw away booklets, tickets, set lists; those were things that should have been tossed right away.

Yet as I sat here, my legs going slightly numb, a pile up of boxes behind me, The Arctic Monkeys’ Suck It And See vinyl was coming to an end, I couldn’t help but be thankful I’d kept all of this.

“Your love is like a studded leather headlock. Your kiss, it could put creases in the rain. You’re rarer than a can of dandelion and burdock. And those other girls are just Postmix lemonade,” sang Alex Turner through the speaker system I had spread out through the apartment. Leaning forward, I picked up that photograph I’d placed on the ground without looking at. Staring down, I could feel those chords on my heart getting tugged violently to the point of pain in tune to the guitar in the song. “Suck it and see, you never know. Sit next to me before you go. Jigsaw women with hollow movie blue shoes. Be cruel to me ‘cause I’m a fool for you.”

Slowly, I ran my finger down the side of the glass covering the photo, feeling the song sinking beneath my skin as I stared at those four happy faces. This photo was from the very beginning of The Spares. We looked so young, all bright and though we had that nineties cynicism built in deep, we looked as hopeful as a sixties band standing in the sunlight. “I poured my heart into a pop song. I couldn’t get the hang of poetry. That’s not a skirt, girl, that’s a sawn-off shotgun. And I can only hope that it’s aimed at me.”

My bright red hair was shining underneath the sun, but my eyes were crinkled shut from laughter as Seth pressed a kiss to my cheek, his eyes glowing golden even as his dark hair cancelled out my brightness. He had his arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me flush against him. And there was Jake, making a mocking gagging expression to my side, his tongue sticking out of his mouth with his long blonde hair pushed behind his ears. Then, of course, there was William who was on Seth’s side and he was laughing loudly at something I couldn’t remember, his arms crossed in front of his chest and the toothy smile scrunching his eyes.

“Blue girls from once upon a Shangri-La. How often I wonder where you are. You’ve got a face that just says, “Baby, I was made to break your heart.”.”

Giving a tight laugh, I lightly ran my fingertips over Seth’s hair in the photo, moving them so they moved across his strong cheekbones before curling my hand around the corner of the photo. There was no doubt that if anyone was made to break another person’s heart, it was Seth and I.

That was just the relationship we’d had. It had been so passionate that when the fire started to consume, we started to destroy. And we’d always been good at destruction.

As the song ended, that singularly moment of silence let me hear as the door swung open.

I wasn’t surprised by it, which I might have found odd had I not been in a sleep deprived state; I just placed the photo gently in front of me. A smile came onto my face, and I almost felt as if I should sway as I twisted around to the door.