These people were mental. It had been only an hour or so since I'd first met them – at a guess, I didn't have a watch or anything, obviously – and already I'd been told more about Meat's sex life than I had ever even wondered, and some things I was sure couldn't be physically possible. And they did. Not. Stop. Talking.
Brit was much less talkative than Meat, but he had just the same amount of energy. The energy that all the bohemians I'd ever seen (a paltry few, but they all had it) possessed. It was difficult to describe, but made them so much more different from the Gagas than just their clothing or hair did. Of course, if you shoved Meat or Brit next to your average Gaga clone, they're going to look about as similar as … well, as two things that look really different. But it's not just their material appearance, it's their being. That sounds really stupid, I know. But it's the way they bounce on every step, their constant energy and flair - looks bloody exhausting, if you ask me - their eyes gleaming as they're describing things they love that they want me to know about. They seem to want me to know every single little scrap of knowledge they can put together about bohemia, and I don't think there's any way I could have stopped them – if I'd wanted to, which of course I didn't.
It was definitely one of the most surreal days of my life. I had only the cash I'd picked up earlier, and I was pretty sure that neither of them had any money at all – yet when Meat started to complain she was hungry, we stopped at a café, and Brit went in, coming out of the door several minutes later with a cheeky grin, three coffees (much better tasting this time, thank god) and three sandwiches. I decided not to ask, and mumbled a 'thanks' between huge bites of ham and tomato.
We had nearly crossed the district by the time night was beginning to fall, nearing the edge of the city, and it was getting cold quickly. I'd pulled on my sweater a while ago, but it was getting too cold for even that to be of much help now. It was September, so I wasn't expecting it to be pleasantly warm, but I wasn't expecting it to be this cold. When I'd curled up in an old bus shelter the night before, it hadn't been warm, but it hadn't been this cold. I looked at Brit curiously, and he grimaced, answering my unasked question as if he'd been reading my mind.
"The city's mainly heated by the underground mechanics that keep all the Gagas connected to Globalsoft's virtual mainframe."
I couldn't help but hide a smile at the polished upper-class voice he put on to describe the inner workings of the city. It was a world no one person in the city would admit they'd want to see – all that dirt and grime, imagine! – but to me, it sounded amazing – an entire city, built on a computer. I mean, yeah, computers are the main workings of every civilisation nowadays (apart from the Bohemians, of course), but nobody ever really thinks about them as something we need, just something that's there when we're born, and doesn't stop when we die – even when the entire population dies, the city's innermost computer keeps going.
Thinking about this distracted me a little. Actually, it distracted me a lot. So much, in fact, that I tuned out completely, and Brit's voice faded out gradually, until I felt a dig in my ribs, and turned to see Meat smirking a little.
"He does that to everyone." She whispered, loudly enough for him to hear. He turned, and frowned jokingly at me. "You ignoring me, Red?"
The effort to argue fluttered for a second on my tongue, but I swallowed and it was gone.
"Shuttup." I muttered feebly, and turned to Meat. "He does what to what?"
She giggled, tossing her hair extravagantly, and I winced as a dreadlock hit me in the face.
"Tosser." Brit joked, apparently out of habit. She swatted at him playfully – though I think her hand went too close to his arse for it to have been accidental – and turned back to me.
"Sorry. Yeah, he flirts with everyone."
I shake my head. "No, he wasn't –" But Meat ignored me, and carried on talking as if I hadn't tried to deny that her boyfriend (or I presumed he was) had been flirting with me. "He's like that with everyone, seriously. Like, you remember I told you about that time me and Brit and Prince and Seal got really drunk, and we-"
Oh god. Here we go again.
It's another hour before we reach the very edge of the city. I'm shivering, and Meat's been complaining for at least 20 minutes. Solid.
"-and we passed that bloody train station half a bloody hour ago, couldn't we have stayed there? It's god-fuckin'-damned cold, and I wanna go to sleep!"
Finally.
Brit looks up at her, and seems to weigh up in his mind how much more annoying she'll get if he doesn't cave in. Personally, I don't think she could get any worse, but that's before she finds a burst of energy from somewhere (this is no mean feat, we've been walking for what feels like days) but she jumps in front of him and doesn't move.
"Are we gonna stop soon? Cause we're fucking tired, and you don't even seem to know where we're going! For Christ's sake, we went to get food, and now we're lost, and we have no idea – we're never gonna get home!" He voice begins as a shout, and crescendos to a shriek. He leans sideways slightly, but she grabs his shoulders, and glares at him. I hadn't seen such a hateful expression from her before, and I wouldn't have thought it possible of her. She could do bitchy and whiny, but I sure as hell hadn't seen the worst, it seemed. They stood like that for about a minute, and I began to think they were having a staring competition, until Meat broke the eye contact, and looked down at the ground. Brit looks at her, and I'm surprised to see the anger is his eyes fade away as Meat leans her forehead against his chest.
"I'm sorry."
"I know." He kisses the top of her head, and brushes a tear off her cheek. "If you can manage a minute or so more, we'll get to a cover. I know some of the tunnels were lost, but if we get to…" His nose wrinkles up, and he looks around slightly helplessly. "Umm… the station with the doors – you know, the one with the escalators…"
Jesus Christ. I look around, and notice a few familiar landmarks.
"Well," I tell him, and I'm really trying not to be patronising. Honest. "We're at Piccadilly Circus now."
"Yeah? And you know that because…" He raises an eyebrow, and, yeah, screw the semi-politeness.
"Because there's a large sign on the wall that says Piccadilly in large letters." I inform him, and Meat laughs.
"She's got ya there, babe. So, you, how do we get to Tottenham Court from here?" The second bit is directed at me, and accompanied by a light hand on my shoulder, and I shiver slightly.
… Hey, it's cold.
"You go along to Leicester Square, and then change across to Northern, and follow to Tottenham." She raises an eyebrow, and I sigh, and point. "You go that way."
She grabs me in a hug, and then grabs one of mine and Brit's hands in each of hers, and stars to run.
"Sounds perfect. Let's rock and ROLL!"
Yeah. Whatever that's supposed to mean.