Now is my chance. Toying with my lanyard, I give him my sexiest look, but as I take a step towards him I catch my foot on a guitar lead and fall into him, face first. Luckily, he catches me and doesn’t let go.
‘Easy, tiger,’ he says with a laugh, before leaning in closer and whispering into my ear. ‘At least wait until I’ve got you in my room.’
With his face still just inches from mine, Luke starts gently kissing my neck and it’s fortunate that he is still holding me because my legs instantly turn to jelly. Next thing I know, we’re kissing on the lips. I don’t want to sound all lame and high school again, but this is our first proper kiss and all that’s missing is the firework display. As he pushes me back onto the tatty old sofa, I wrap my legs around his waist. I can’t believe this is actually happening. Just as our kisses get heavier, I faintly hear the door open and things come to a sudden stop. I smile and try to look innocent, something that I have perfected over the years to get myself out of tricky situations. With that said, even the most innocent of innocent looks couldn’t make this situation look like anything other than what it is because my legs are still wrapped tightly around Luke’s waist and locked at the ankle. If it’s anyone other than Mark then I might be able to live this one down. I dare myself to look towards the door and, of course, it’s Mark. He glares at me before wandering over to fridge.
‘Not interrupting anything, I hope,’ he says, grabbing a can of something and plonking himself down next to us.
‘Actually, mate...’ Luke begins, but Mark doesn’t let him finish.
‘Good, because I need something to eat and Eddie needs you on the stage. Now.’
Luke looks at me and gives me that cheeky smile I love so much. He plants a peck on my lips and manages to free himself from my grasp, pulling up and fastening his jeans as he leaves the room – I didn’t even realise he’d undone them, what moves he has! It’s just me and Mark now, and as long as he doesn’t speak to me then I’ll happily keep out of his way.
‘I knew you were a groupie, but fucking hell. You could at least wait twenty-four hours between shagging each band member. Bloody slapper.’ he snaps at me.
I like to think I’m a pretty chilled lady, a lover not a fighter and all that, but I can’t keep my temper under control any longer and I snap back.
‘Excuse me?’ I ask, standing up and trying to subtly pull my dress back down over my lower half. ‘First of all, I haven’t shagged anyone,’ I yell. ‘And second of all, I was very drunk last night, and you knew that, and I didn’t want to kiss you, and you knew that too. OK, I might have kissed you back for a second but, as drunk as I was, I still came to my senses. Get the fuck over it!’
It’s amazing how a little bit of anger brings out my inner northern monkey.
Mark looks gobsmacked. Friend or not, I probably shouldn’t upset the celebrities, but how dare he call me a slapper? If I had shagged him down that alley, he probably wouldn’t be calling me any names.
‘Do what you want, write what you want, shag who you want!’ he shouts, leaving the room and slamming the door behind him.
There are hundreds of girls queuing up outside the venue right now and, despite being a podgy arsehole in need of a good wash and a shave, he could probably have his pick of any of them. Why waste his time getting angry at me?
My eyes start to feel heavy and a huge tear falls from my right eye, rolling down my face and stripping my skin of every ounce of make-up that dares to stand in its path. I wipe it quickly and grab my foundation from my bag. I can’t let anyone see me crying.
I should be buzzing after kissing Luke. Instead, I am sitting in a backstage room, all on my own, sobbing because some C-list bassist just called me a slapper.
As I smarten myself up and retouch my make-up, I take yet another long, hard look in the mirror. Tonight is going to be a long night.
The Skanky Groupies
After an awesome performance (including an encore), I am clapping and screaming just as much as any other fan in the room – maybe more so.
‘Are you their mascot?’ a handsome older man asks me, nodding in the direction of the hideous orange dress I forgot I was wearing.
‘Not exactly,’ I tell him with a giggle. ‘It’s a funny story really.’
‘I hope you’re going to tell me it.’
‘To summarise...’ I take a deep breath. ‘I am touring with the band, to write a magazine feature, but I forgot my bag and I spilt a drink on my pretty dress, so Luke, the drummer, was kind enough to give me this to wear.’
‘Wow, he must hate you!’ the stranger says, insulting my dress.
‘I know, right? What a bastard!’
He laughs.
‘You said you’re writing a feature on the band? I’m here to write a review for the local paper,’ he informs me.
‘Oops! Did I say he was a bastard? Because what I mean to say is what a wonderful band this is, and how you should definitely give them a good review!’
‘Don’t worry, I’m impressed. My name is Kenny by the way.’
‘Nice to meet you, Kenny.’ I shake his hand, ‘I’m Nicole.’
‘It’s nice to meet you too. Can I buy you a drink? We can swap notes.’
The band have only just finished and I know I’m going to be on my own while they do promo and meet fans, so I agree and we take a seat at the bar. Kenny seems like a nice guy and he’s a music reviewer for the local press so I’m sure I can learn a thing or two from him.
‘I think your friend is worried about you,’ Kenny tells me, gesturing towards Luke with a swift movement of his eyes.
I glance over and he’s right, Luke is giving us a filthy look.
‘He needn’t be worried, I’m more interested in him than I am in you, darling,’ he says with a wink.
Poor Luke, if only he knew.
‘I’ll put in a good word for you,’ I tell Kenny, winking right back at him.
‘Don’t worry about it, I think he’s got his eye on someone else in this room and I think we both know who that is.’
I smile, but then something catches my eye.
‘Excuse me for a moment,’ I say, making my way over to the band.
The guys are surrounded by fans, but there’s this one girl who caught my eye because she is wearing the same orange T-shirt as me.
I tap her on the shoulder. ‘Don’t you just hate it when someone wears the same outfit as you?’
‘It looks better on you,’ she replies with an unconvincing smile.
‘Are you trying to meet the band?’ I ask.
‘Trying.’ She holds up a poster. ‘I wanted them to sign this but it’s like I’m invisible.’
‘I’m a friend of theirs, I’ll get them to sign it.’
Taking the poster and marker pen, I start with Luke.
‘Can you sign this for that lovely girl over there?’ I ask him.
‘Sure. Who’s that guy you’re with?’
‘A journalist, so be nice,’ I warn him.
Ben signs the poster next, and thankfully he gets Mark