talking about our families, our friends, what we wanted to achieve. I managed to turn my blog at The Look into a six-book deal and a film, while Alex talked about creating scores for movies, acting and a passion for architecture, but he hardly mentioned the band.
‘That’s a pretty full agenda,’ I said, loving the feeling of holding hands. ‘How are you going to manage all that and put a new album out?’
‘Good question,’ he replied. ‘Who knows if there will be another album? I’m sort of putting the whole thing on hold at the moment. We’re just a little wiped out and I don’t know if I can carry the whole thing right now. We’ve been together for like, eight years when you add in all the time before we were signed. Gets to a point where you just want to do something else.’
‘I know what you mean,’ I said, trying not to sound like a disappointed fan. ‘Must be hard making a group decision about something that big.’
‘It is,’ he agreed, ‘but once one person’s heart is out of it, it’s really all over. We’re still playing live around town, but I just don’t feel we want it like we did before. These things come to an end, like anything else. There’s nothing worse than staying when there’s nothing to stay for.’
I walked on, nodding and thinking. It made sense. And not just about his band.
‘Did I say something wrong?’ he asked after our third block of silence.
‘Not at all.’ Rules or no rules, I really didn’t want to broach the Mark subject with him. ‘I was just thinking about how right you are. And how sometimes you just have to bite the bullet and make a change.’
‘Exactly,’ he gave my hand a squeeze and stopped in front of a queue of people decked out in skinny jeans, faded T-shirts and bored expressions. Looked like the queue for a gig to me. ‘Shall we?’
‘Hey, man,’ the gangly bouncer on the door nodded to Alex and waved us through and down some stairs into a cramped bar. I glanced around, trying to look like I belonged, while Alex talked to the girl behind the ticket counter. Across the room, a group of girls were craning their necks to get a better look and not exactly whispering about their intentions towards him. I suddenly felt defensive, how dare they say that about my date right in front of me? But somewhere, not too well hidden, I felt the tiniest bit smug. Here was this super hot man who could have had any girl in that line and he was here with me.
‘Hey,’ Alex called, holding the door to the main floor open. ‘You want a drink?’
I took one last look at the girls and then turned my back. ‘I’ll get them,’ I nodded. ‘What are you having?’
‘Beer?’
I took the official bar position, forearms resting on the counter, ten dollar bill in hand and slightly impatient look on my face as I tried to make eye contact with one of the bartenders. Behind the bar was a dirty old mirror, hidden behind the rows and rows of bottles. For a moment I didn’t recognize the girl standing beside Alex, all messy hair, sexy heavy eye make-up that would have looked a little bit slutty if she wasn’t working the whole look, and then I realized that slutty-looking girl was me. I didn’t know if it was the close proximity of a genuine bonafide rocker or Jenny’s fine prep work but I looked actually OK. Or maybe it was just because I was having fun. I was officially dating and having fun. Wowsers.
A gig is a gig is a gig, I realized as we passed through to the back of the bar, up onto the (thankfully) dim, smoky main floor, New York or London. Sticky floor, crammed bar with overpriced warm beer in plastic cups, small cliques of hipsters in too tight jeans, CBGBs T-shirts, and their tiny girlfriends in equally skinny jeans. As intimidated as I felt by all the unspoken attention Alex was receiving, I felt kind of at home. This could just as easily be any small venue in London as the Bowery Ballroom in New York.
‘You go to a lot of gigs at home?’ Alex asked, yelling into my ear as the first support act began thrashing at their guitars and brutally assaulting their drum kit.
I nodded and leaned in to his ear, my nose poking through his lovely floppy hair. ‘Yeah, I used to go a lot more, but my friends aren’t really that into the same kind of music as me.’
I didn’t tell him that in reality, none of my friends was into the same kind of music as me, and that Mark had been my only gig buddy for the last ten years. When we first moved to London, we’d gone out at least once every week, but in the last two years, he’d started complaining that the gigs went on too late, that he couldn’t sit down, that the beer was expensive and flat, and more than once in the last few months I’d sat at the back, alone after a short text to say he was working late. But that didn’t feel like something Alex needed to know right away. I wanted this to be fun.
‘Yeah,’ he said, sipping his beer without a word of complaint. ‘Sometimes I think it’s just so much easier to go places on your own. The movies I’ve missed because I didn’t have a date.’
I couldn’t imagine him not having a date for a second. Almost every girl in the place had checked him out on their way in and I was starting to prickle with their not so silent appraisals of me, as his date.
‘So apart from listening to Justin, what did you do today?’ he grinned, steering me to the side of the stage to a quiet corner and a better view. ‘This writing gig sounds really cool.’
‘Apart from listen to Justin? God, that takes up so much of my time,’ I said trying not to listen to the people whispering around us, not so subtly. ‘But yeah, the writing thing is really cool, I hope. It’s just an online diary, a blog, but, oh, I don’t want to jinx it. I’ve never really had anything published as myself before, so it’s a big thing to me even though it’s probably not really.’
‘Sounds like a good break though,’ he said and raised his glass. ‘You going to write about our date?’
‘I suppose I’ll have to,’ I said, not having really thought about it. ‘Purely in the interests of journalistic integrity, of course. Totally anonymous though. I will protect your innocence.’
He leaned in towards me again, pushing me back against the wall, and kissed me hard. As his lips pressed down on mine, any concerns about protecting his innocence dissipated, my body caught between the sticky, cold wall and Alex’s taut frame. It was all I could do not to drop my beer.
‘If you’re going to write about me, you should know,’ he breathed as we pulled apart, ‘I take bad reviews very personally.’
‘Shouldn’t be a problem,’ I chirped, not really knowing where to put myself. Feeling his warm, chocolaty breath so close to my ear was making me shiver and I closed my eyes to commit the kiss properly to memory. Stumbling backwards into the wall, his soft lips, the way his body felt pressed against the thin material of my dress. Before I could completely relive it, I felt Alex close behind me again, his arm draped around my waist, hand resting on my hip. I let myself lean against him, dropping my head backwards onto his chest. It felt so nice, so easy.
We stood in comfortable silence until Alex had to excuse himself to the bathroom and bar, just before the main act. I watched him wander off downstairs, letting myself check him out shamelessly, with a huge smile on my face. It was weird, I was having so much fun, but Alex made me so nervous, as in major butterflies. Tyler didn’t make me nervous at all, everything he said and did was designed to make me comfortable. I sort of understood him, bank job, smart suits and all, but I’d felt more awkward about getting dressed up and being in a smart restaurant. It was everything I could do not to spill gravy down my dress. And cream.
