Chapter 1: Harry's POV
Sometimes I wonder what my life would have been like if I never joined Mcfly. Maybe I'd have kept on with cricket, maybe I'd have gotten a nine to five job in some office somewhere in England, married young and had kids. Whatever I'd be doing right now, I wouldn't swap for the world. As I looked out at the sea of fans, cameras flashing, girls screaming, chanting our names, and my three best friends in the world beside me, I felt like the luckiest guy in the world.
Danny was hyping up the crowd, they roared back at him like this was the last day of their lives. And when we started to play, I felt the music vibrating through me as I pounded the drums, my hands knew exactly what to do, and it was so easy, so effortless. I was born for this, made for the music.
I grinned from ear to ear, sweating as I threw my whole body into drumming, my head nodding and arms swinging. This was the high that drug addicts dreamed of, and I savoured every second of it. I heard Danny's rough, powerful tones, and Tom's silky harmonies. Dougie's bass could be heard above it all, the notes soaring through the stadium like fireworks. Every second was like heaven, despite the heat and my aching arms, and sweat dripping into my eyes and burning. I lived every minute on that stage as if it was my last, the ecstasy of performing consuming my thoughts. It was everything anyone could wish for.
Later, in the tour bus, I lay back on one of the sprawling sofas and relived it all again. We were silent, the four of us, savouring the afterglow of a show. Dougie cracked open four ice cold beers, and we drank them gratefully. Finally, Tom broke the silence.
"Wow." He breathed.
"I know," I grinned stupidly, "It never gets old, does it?" The three of them shook their heads in unison. I'd never been so happy in my life.
I'm seventeen years old again, standing in a crowded waiting room. There's a queue of kids, just like me, clutching their drumsticks in their hands. Some look older than me, some younger. I have no idea what the guy in the calf length leather jacket and Mohawk is doing here. Nor the one in the suit, but mainly, they all look like me. I run my hands through my hair, before remembering I'd carefully gelled it into spikes this morning. Never mind, I don't have a hope anyway. There must be about eighty other kids in the room, and I've only been drumming for a year. What am I doing here?
Then, some people come through the revolving door. There's a guy in his twenties, slick black hair and a business-like suit. A few more suits, they all look the same. Then two kids, just like me. One's got bleached blonde hair, and he's wearing a t-shirt that's a little too big for him, the other has curly brown hair, and he's looking at the floor. Why does he look scared? He's already in the band! The one with blonde hair is looking around interestedly, eyeing up potential drummers. They walk right past me, and I can smell the leather of the men's briefcases. The curly-haired one looks up and looks away again, not before he's met my eye. He smiles a bit, and I like the way he doesn't look like a popstar. He just looks like a normal kid. They disappear through the double doors at the other side of the room, and one by one, kids are called into the room by a woman with a headset and clipboard. Some come out grinning, some come out looking dejected, some even crying.
"Harold Judd." I take a deep breath, and walk up to those doors. It feels like a very long way. The woman pats my shoulder kindly, and shows me into the room. The two guys from earlier are there, as well as the bloke in his twenties. Another man sits beside the curly haired kid, who's looking up at me, and he smiles a bit. The man in the suit asks me my name, and what I'm going to play for them. I tell him, and he grins. He must like the song! The two kids are grinning at each other too.
"Whenever you're ready." The man says in a cool, professional voice. I sit down at the drums, my heart pounding. My mouth is dry and I feel like I'm going to be sick. Then I start to play. My hands fly like they never have before, and I am totally in the moment. The song doesn't seem to last long enough, and when I put my drumsticks down, I'm totally calm.
"That was brilliant mate!" The curly haired kid enthuses in a heavy Northern accent, smiling widely.
"Thanks." I tell him, grinning myself.
"Thank you very much. If you'd like to wait outside again." The suited man says, again in his cool tone, but his eyes were sparkling. I leave the room, high on their smiles. They looked interested in me; maybe I've got a chance after all! More kids go into the room, more leave. It doesn't seem long before the woman with the headset goes into the room, for quite a long time. She comes out again, a piece of paper in her hand, and starts reading off a list of names. HAROLD JUDD. Did she really say that? Did I imagine it? She did, she's beckoning to me. Only four others are there. The rest leave, some looking angry, others looking disappointed, but us five stay.
"Paul, you go in first. They're going to ask you to play again, ask you a bit more about yourself, and then they'll make their decision, okay?" She pushes a kid with black spiky hair into the room. The rest of us wait with baited breath, exchanging tight smiles, tapping our hands our thighs in practice. He emerges, and the next kid is sent in, then the next, and the next. I'm last to go in. The curly haired kid grins again, he must like me. The blonde one is smiling too, not as excited, but definitely interested.
"So you're Harold, right?" He asks. He doesn't have much of an accent.
"Yeah, but everyone calls me Harry." I tell him.
"How long have you been playing drums Harry?" The suited man asks, shuffling bits of paper.
"A year." Their eyes pop open, and the blonde one is smiling more enthusiastically now.
"And how old are you?" The suit asks.
"I'm seventeen." I tell him. Is that old enough, I wonder. Must be, the curly haired kids looks a bit younger than seventeen.
"Okay Harry, can you play again for us, the same song please." I sit down at the drums again, and that weird feeling of calm settles over me. I play again, just enjoying the rhythm of the drums, hearing them crash like waves in the ocean. When I'm finished, I stand up, and the two kids are smiling appreciatively.
"Thanks Harry, we won't have you waiting much longer, we'll just have a quick chat, and then you'll hear the verdict, okay?" The suit says, a little warmth in his voice now. I nod, and leave the room again. They're in there for what feels like forever, but in reality is only a few minutes. Then on the woman's instructions, we all go in together.
"Right guys. Firstly, I want to say that you're all brilliant drummers. The best we've seen today. I'd like to congratulate you all on your skill, and it's unfortunate that we can't have you all…" I zone out, and the man continues like this for a really, really long time. This guy can talk! After what seems like an age, he says.
"But we can only have one drummer, and after a lot of discussion, we've decided that we'd like Harry Judd to be in the band. To the rest of you, I'm very sorry." He finally finishes. Oh my God. Oh my GOD. Am I really going to be in a band? A proper one? I feel dizzy. I'm vaguely aware of the rest of them leaving the room.
"Congratulations Harry!" The curly haired one says, he gets up and comes over to me, practically bouncing up and down with excitement. "This is going to be great, I knew you were the right one, and then you said you've only been playing for a year! That's really impressive mate! We've got a band house, and you get to come and live with us, and it's SO cool! We just need a bassist, and then we can get going as a proper band!" He's grinning all over his face, and the blonde joins him.
"I don't believe it." I mumble, swaying a bit.
"Danny, leave him alone, he's probably a bit shell shocked. Harry, my name's Tom Fletcher, and this is Danny Jones. That's Matthew Fletcher, no relation, but we call him Fletch. He's our manager, and so is Richard." He points to the youngish guy, then the suit. "Our band house is in London, and we already live there, it's pretty awesome. Where are you from?"
"Cambridge." I murmur, it was still sinking in. My life was going to change forever.
"Cool, I'm from London, Danny's from Bolton, in case you hadn't guessed." He said, elbowing Danny, who laughed.
"Will your parents be all right about this, you leaving school and coming to live in London?" Danny asked. He was so energetic, like a puppy.
"They'll have to be. I'm seventeen now, so I don't think they can stop me." I say. This is real. I'm leaving school, I'm going to live in London with Tom and Danny, my bandmates. Euphoria set in, and I grinned at the two of them. My bandmates. I already really liked them both.
"Do you play any sports Harry?" Danny wants to know.
"Yeah, I love cricket, and I play football and rugby as well, you?"
"Football. Tom plays football too, and a bit of cricket, don't you mate?"
"Yep. We've already got goalposts set up at the house. You can move in as soon as you can, and you can come and see it tomorrow if you want. We'd love to show you around, it's ace." Tom enthused, playfully punching my shoulder.
What the fuck is happening? Am I, Harry Judd, going to live in a massive house with my two new friends Danny and Tom, and make my living doing what I love? No way. No WAY.