he knows this.’
I smiled awkwardly and sipped my drink. Ew, nasty. No one, not even Jenny I didn’t think, had ever said that. Alex was lucky to have me? Hmm, radical concept.
‘Well, don’t tell him, but we’re going to be moving in together soon,’ I said as quietly as the music would allow.
‘And he doesn’t know?’ Virginie sounded confused. ‘Maybe you should tell him before you begin to pack.’
I laughed loudly, squirting wine up my nose. It was no better up there than it was in my mouth. ‘No, he has asked me to, I just haven’t told him that I’m going to yet,’ I explained. ‘It’s a surprise for his birthday.’
‘Then he is even luckier,’ she said, knocking back her wine. ‘This wine is terrible. Do you want a mojito?’
‘That is one of my favourite questions.’ I put my dodgy wine back on the bar. ‘Yes. Yes I do.’
One and a half mojitos later, Alex was halfway through his set and I was standing in my favourite gig-watching spot. Leaning against the bar, behind the pulsing crowd, with a clear view of the band. I couldn’t count the number of times I’d seen Stills play in the last year (actually, yes I could, it was seven), but every time I saw Alex get up on that stage I fell for him a little bit more. Seeing him up there, everyone in the room hanging on his every word, made it a little bit difficult to believe Virginie’s words. How was he the lucky one? He could have anyone in the room, in any room mostly, and I was the one that got to take him home. And even though I knew that was what would happen tonight, and every night when we got back to New York, it was still sometimes hard to deal with the fact that every girl in the room was lusting after my boyfriend. Not to mention a few of the boys. Of course, I got a little rush of smug to know that they all wanted him and I had him, but it was still a difficult thing to get my head around. I hoped that made me human and not an arsehole.
The set was almost over when I spotted Solène at the front of the stage. Her blonde hair shone white under the bright lights that lit Alex, Craig and Graham, and I could see her dancing, holding another girl’s hand high in the air and jumping around. The bar was tiny and they were only a few rows of people away from us. I could see her singing along to every word, her eyes closed, dress riding up dangerously high every time she threw her hands up into the air. In between songs, she would stop dancing, pull down her dress, brush her hair back off her face and smile blissfully. So, she was a Stills fan.
‘This girl, you know her?’ Virginie asked, pointing towards Solène.
I shook my head. ‘Not really, I met her last night. She’s in a band here, I think they supported Alex’s band or something. I don’t know, we really didn’t talk that much.’
‘She likes your boyfriend very much.’
I looked back over to Solène, her eyes weren’t closed any more, this time she was looking right at Alex and singing directly to him, her hands clasped over her heart, tapping out the bass line. And I didn’t love it.
Virginie tapped me on the shoulder. ‘They were boyfriend and girlfriend?’
‘Uhh…I don’t know.’ I didn’t feel terribly eloquent as that theory flitted around in my head. Had they dated?
‘I thought, perhaps. They look like friends.’
‘I suppose,’ I nodded, starting to feel a bit sick. And it wasn’t from the mix of sangria, red wine and mojito. Well, it might have been, a little bit. ‘He hasn’t really told me anything about her.’
But he’s bloody well going to, I added to myself.
At the end of the set, I waited patiently by the bar while Alex unplugged a million cables and put things back in boxes. I’d offered to help once, but when I’d shorted an amp within three minutes, it was suggested that I take on a more supervisory role. Away from the stage and the very expensive instruments. This time at least, I was glad about that. While he was
I smiled awkwardly and sipped my drink. Ew, nasty. No one, not even Jenny I didn’t think, had ever said that. Alex was lucky to have me? Hmm, radical concept.
‘Well, don’t tell him, but we’re going to be moving in together soon,’ I said as quietly as the music would allow.
‘And he doesn’t know?’ Virginie sounded confused. ‘Maybe you should tell him before you begin to pack.’
I laughed loudly, squirting wine up my nose. It was no better up there than it was in my mouth. ‘No, he has asked me to, I just haven’t told him that I’m going to yet,’ I explained. ‘It’s a surprise for his birthday.’
‘Then he is even luckier,’ she said, knocking back her wine. ‘This wine is terrible. Do you want a mojito?’
‘That is one of my favourite questions.’ I put my dodgy wine back on the bar. ‘Yes. Yes I do.’
One and a half mojitos later, Alex was halfway through his set and I was standing in my favourite gig-watching spot. Leaning against the bar, behind the pulsing crowd, with a clear view of the band. I couldn’t count the number of times I’d seen Stills play in the last year (actually, yes I could, it was seven), but every time I saw Alex get up on that stage I fell for him a little bit more. Seeing him up there, everyone in the room hanging on his every word, made it a little bit difficult to believe Virginie’s words. How was he the lucky one? He could have anyone in the room, in any room mostly, and I was the one that got to take him home. And even though I knew that was what would happen tonight, and every night when we got back to New York, it was still sometimes hard to deal with the fact that every girl in the room was lusting after my boyfriend. Not to mention a few of the boys. Of course, I got a little rush of smug to know that they all wanted him and I had him, but it was still a difficult thing to get my head around. I hoped that made me human and not an arsehole.
The set was almost over when I spotted Solène at the front of the stage. Her blonde hair shone white under the bright lights that lit Alex, Craig and Graham, and I could see her dancing, holding another girl’s hand high in the air and jumping around. The bar was tiny and they were only a few rows of people away from us. I could see her singing along to every word, her eyes closed, dress riding up dangerously high every time she threw her hands up into the air. In between songs, she would stop dancing, pull down her dress, brush her hair back off her face and smile blissfully. So, she was a Stills fan.
‘This girl, you know her?’ Virginie asked, pointing towards Solène.
I shook my head. ‘Not really, I met her last night. She’s in a band here, I think they supported Alex’s band or something. I don’t know, we really didn’t talk that much.’
‘She likes your boyfriend very much.’
I looked back over to Solène, her eyes weren’t closed any more, this time she was looking right at Alex and singing directly to him, her hands clasped over her heart, tapping out the bass line. And I didn’t love it.
Virginie tapped me on the shoulder. ‘They were boyfriend and girlfriend?’
‘Uhh…I don’t know.’ I didn’t feel terribly eloquent as that theory flitted around in my head. Had they dated?
‘I thought, perhaps. They look like friends.’
‘I suppose,’ I nodded, starting to feel a bit sick. And it wasn’t from the mix of sangria, red wine and mojito. Well, it might have been, a little bit. ‘He hasn’t really told me anything about her.’
But he’s bloody well going to, I added to myself.
At the end of the set, I waited patiently by the bar while Alex unplugged a million cables and put things back in boxes. I’d offered to help once, but when I’d shorted an amp within three minutes, it was suggested that I take on a more supervisory role. Away from the stage and the very expensive instruments. This time at least, I was glad about that. While he was
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