How Not To Be Starstruck. Portia MacIntosh

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did have much willpower, which is probably why I go on to drink another three. Any chance I had of sobering up is long gone.

      ‘Let’s dance!’ Mark shouts as he drags me to the dance floor. I don’t want to offend him but I’d rather go and look for Luke. I wonder where he’s got to.

      Not wanting to hurt Mark’s feelings, I go along with it. Dancing with Mark is very different, he dances like a drunken maniac although that is probably because he is one. He is spinning me around, dipping me – I’m feeling very sick but I have to admit that I’m having such a good time. Maybe I’m misreading the signs, but I could swear Mark is flirting with me. Some of his dance moves are a bit raunchy and his hands are all over me. If I were perfectly sober, I’d probably be worried that people could see.

      There’s still no sign of Luke and before I know it, Mark is dragging me to the bar for last orders where we have yet more to drink. I’m officially drunk, although not quite as drunk as Eddie, who throws his arms around me and tells me how much he loves me, licking my face before falling to the floor. At this point Luke reappears.

      ‘All right, Nic? You look a bit tipsy, babe,’ he says with a chuckle.

      ‘Whaaat? I’m fine,’ I protest, never one to admit that I’m drunk out loud.

      ‘Well Ed certainly isn’t, so we’re going to get a taxi back to the bus.’

      He and Ben grab one of Eddie’s arms each and carry him outside. Feeling a bit unsteady on my feet, I lean against the bar.

      ‘We’ll see you outside,’ he calls back.

      ‘Don’t worry, mate. I’ll take good care of her,’ Mark calls after him, grabbing hold of my hand as we follow them out.

      Standing around waiting for the taxi, my body starts to shake. I can’t really feel the cold but I must be freezing. Mark gallantly slips an arm around me and rubs my shoulders, so maybe he does have a sweet side after all.

      Luke looks over at us and gives me a concerned look, is he getting jealous?

      ‘You two look cosy,’ Luke calls over.

      ‘Poor little thing is freezing,’ Mark tells him.

      ‘Yeah, it is a bit chilly out here,’ he replies, equally as cold. He gives me a strange look but then his gaze is redirected to my ear.

      ‘Nicole, you’ve got an earring missing.’

      I put both hands up to the sides of my head and he’s right.

      ‘Shit, it must have come out when I was dancing, do you think they’ll let me back in to look for it?’ I slur as I wobble on my feet. I’m really regretting that last drink. I can’t think straight and I can’t walk straight. As I head towards the club, the taxi pulls up and Ben begins trying to squash Eddie inside.

      ‘I can only take four of you,’ the taxi driver calls out, noticing that there are five of us.

      ‘Don’t worry, mate,’ Mark calls back. ‘Luke, I’ll take Nicole back in for her earring and then we’ll walk back. It’s not far and we’re not that drunk, right, Nic?’

      ‘Right, Mark!’ I give Luke a thumbs-up – clearly not the actions of a sober girl. Luke reluctantly gets in the taxi and they drive off, leaving me drunk and alone with sleazy Mark, the tour-paedo.

      ‘Are we going to get my earring?’ I ask, actually remembering something that happened in the past ten minutes.

      ‘Yes we are,’ he says as he bends over and picks my earring up from the floor. ‘Oh look, there it is. I must have been standing on it.’

      My few remaining sober thoughts are telling me that maybe something is up here.

      ‘Shall we get back to the bus then?’ he asks, grabbing my hand and dragging me in what I assume is the right direction.

      I don’t know what time it is, but it must be after 3 a.m. as we make our way down the eerily quiet streets of Manchester.

      ‘I think Luke reckons he’s in there with you, he’s probably waiting for you on the bus with his jeans around his ankles,’ Mark informs me, like it’s a done deal.

      I laugh and shrug my shoulders. It’s nothing to do with him, is it?

      ‘We could always stay out for a bit,’ he suggests.

      ‘And go where? Everywhere is closed!’

      ‘Not everywhere,’ he says, leading me down a dark alleyway, and before I have time to take in exactly what is going on, Mark is pushing me up against the wall and kissing me hard on the lips.

      As we kiss I open my eyes and take in our surroundings. This particular part of the city is practically silent and it’s too dark to see anything, but I know we must be near some bins because they are all I can smell. Mark’s horrible beard (think Brad Pitt, circa 2009) is rubbing against my face, making it itch, and I can feel him carelessly tugging at my clothes. At that moment an ambulance goes flying past, illuminating the alley with its bright-blue lights and making me jump with its loud siren. What the hell am I doing here? I don’t fancy this guy – bloody hell, I don’t even like this guy most of the time. My vodka goggles are abruptly ripped from my face and I push Mark away.

      ‘What’s the matter?’ he asks breathlessly.

      ‘We’d better get back to the bus. They’re going to wonder where we are,’ I insist, but he’s having none of it, grabbing my hips and moving closer, squashing me against the wall.

      ‘They won’t give a shit. Come on, just relax!’

      I can’t relax because I really don’t want to do this.

      ‘Someone might see us,’ I say, wriggling free from his grasp and making my way back towards the street.

      ‘Nicole, come on,’ he calls after me, but I keep walking and eventually he follows me. We walk the rest of the way in silence.

      Finally through the bus doors safe and sound, I make my way up the stairs to the living area and realise everyone is already in their bunk – apart from Luke. He’s sitting on the sofa, probably waiting for me.

      ‘You guys took a while, is everything OK?’ he asks, sounding concerned.

      ‘Everything is great, man,’ Mark tells him, giving him a wink that we all know the meaning of. Oh God, I want to curl up and die! I’m fairly sure getting it on with one of his band friends is not the way to his heart.

      ‘Oh, right,’ Luke replies. ‘Well, I’m going to get to bed. Night, mate,’ he says giving Mark a pat on the shoulder. And then he looks at me. His eyes look so red and tired. ‘Night, Nicole,’ he says, walking off towards the bunks without waiting for a reply.

      ‘Night,’ I call after him, but it’s too late. I’ve really blown it this time. All I want to do is get in my bunk and pray that everything will be OK in the morning when we’re all sober. What happened with Mark was nothing really, a few seconds of madness, or was it minutes? I have no idea.

      Mark stands up and, presuming he’s going

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