Knife Edge Boogie

Chapter 1 - Vulcan Rock

Alex rested his legs on the arm of the couch and leant back with his arms folded. The string of news items rolled along in the back of his mind, something about a missing person from Manchester apparently. He hadn't been to Manchester in months, he realised. Last time would have been that VIP party at Kierpop's. He grinned as the image of Lizzie Hunter drifting around like a restless fairy formed in his mind.

Lizzie of course, had never taken any of them seriously. Anyone with an acoustic guitar slung over their shoulders was just a face to her. Alex would have to call her up next time he was up North. Was that night the last time he'd seen her?

"Alex?"

Lizzie's high-heels dissolved and his eyes snapped open.

"Already?" Alex groaned. He swung his feet to the floor and pushed himself up.

"Sorry, mate." Matt shrugged. "I'd do it for you, but nobody wants to interview the drummer."

Matt held the Green Room door open and patted Alex on the shoulder as he passed.

"Hey, I had a thought," Alex said, just as Matt was about to close the door.

"First since 'Favourite Worst Nightmare'," said Matt.

"Fuck off." Alex shook his head. "I was thinking, fancy giving Lizzie Hunter a call when we go up to Leeds? If anyone's going to come out on a Sunday night, it's her."

Matt frowned and glanced round the door, though Alex hadn't had his eyes open enough in the room to know what he was looking at.

"Um... I really don't think that would work," Matt said, "Were you not just... Never mind. Go embarrass yourself. We can talk about this after."

Alex gave Matt the finger and turned to face the door at the end of the corridor. A woman opened it and peeked her head out. He raised a hand to wave but she'd already spotted him. Her foot was tapping, so he increased his pace until he was almost running.

"Ready?" she asked.

He nodded and she led him in, gesturing towards a couch for him to sit on.

"How are you today, Alex?" she asked, taking a seat on the opposite couch.

So tired, he thought, Please just let me go to sleep. I'll probably be ten times more interesting asleep than awake.

"I'm very good," he said, "Good to be back."

She tapped on her keyboard, setting his words of eternal wisdom into the records.

"How does it feel knowing the Arctic Monkeys will be headlining Reading and Leeds festival two years running?" Her fingers were poised above her keyboard, twitching.

Fucking terrifying. We're tempting fate. If there's a lightning storm on Saturday night, you know why.

He gazed at her fringe, yanked back tightly into her ponytail, and swallowed the words.

"It's very exciting," he replied. Then, when her fingers had finished stabbing the keys, and she looked straight into his eyes, he added, "And it's good to know that people's attention spans aren't too short to remember us."

The woman pushed her glasses up her nose. "You think people have short attention spans these days?"

Uh-oh. No, I don't think that at all. In fact, if Netflix is anything to go by, people are brilliant at devoting thirty-seven straight hours to one show.

"Yes I guess. But that's nothing to do with us. I mean, that's more to do with the speed of the times and all that. You know, the speed of the internet and how quickly information is available to children at a young age." The edge of his mouth tugged as he realised he was almost directly quoting an article he'd skimmed on the Guardian's online page.