Howard had been fighting with himself all morning over whether or not he should go to the festival. He'd sat on his sofa staring at the ticket in his hands. It had the words Choice FM scrawled across it and a bit lower down, VIP. He flipped it over and browsed the small print; backstage pass, admission into artists' village. He knew there'd be trendy kids from all over London, probably even the UK, who would kill for this ticket but not him. It wasn't his thing. He put the pass back on the table and went to the bathroom. He spent far longer than would ever be necessary picking an outfit, just in case he did decide to pop along to the festival for an hour or two. Not that he was definitely going, he was still deciding. In fact, he was still deciding whether to go as he left the house. He still hadn't made up his mind when he got in the taxi and gave the orders to go to Clapham Common. And he still wasn't definitely going as he showed his pass and walked through the entrance gate. Maybe he could just see what the bands were like and then leave again.
The weather wasn't great but it wasn't awful either. The grey clouds threatened rain but the optimistic teens, who were thronging in their thousands to the festival, seemed confident the poor weather would hold off. As Howard strolled through the crowds, feeling entirely out of place, he spotted two stages and a tent. Howard's ears were immediately assaulted by loud, indecipherable noise as a local university band started on the second stage. Howard frowned and peered through the melee of black-clad, music fans. He didn't have a clue where Vince would be. He sighed. He was a fool to even be here. There was no way he would find Vince in the middle of all this mess.
He strolled over to a burger van and stood in the long queue. He needed a coffee or at least he needed something to occupy his time. He didn't plan to stick around long but something in the back of his mind told him he'd be here until he found Vince or was physically dragged from the premises for looking like a pervert. That's how he felt, he was wearing a long, sensible coat, which wasn't so bad; other people were wearing coats, he reasoned. But he also had a hat on, to protect him from the imminent rain, and dark glasses so that, should he see anyone from an important magazine, they wouldn't recognise him but every time he caught sight of himself in some reflective object, he couldn't help feel he looked like a sex-pest. He glanced up now to see a warped reflection of himself in a panel of silver on the burger van and he heard someone sniggering nearby. He had no idea what they were laughing about but he suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious. He ripped his hat and sunglasses off and stuffed them in his pocket. He could still hear sniggering though, so he began to shut out every bit of idle chatting and giggling from the people who probably weren't even half his age.
He'd managed to block out most of the ongoing noise that surrounded him but one girl seemed to manage to infiltrate his sensory lock down. Her voice was high-pitched and grating like a teacher's nails down the chalkboard when he was back at school. Howard could feel his body clenching in repulsion and he was beginning to crave something a lot stronger that a coffee.
"Blank Canvas? They're crap!" The chalkboard voice screeched.
"Green Day are okay though." Said a quieter voice.
"What that punk band? Nah. No one likes them, they just fluked one decent album. All these bands are rubbish! I don't know why I'm even here." Her cackle crumbled Howard's noise barricade to dust but Howard couldn't help think he had something in common with the girl. He looked up to see if he could spot the pair of voices. He quickly found them. They were stood not far away, near a large, covered sign, fidgeting anxiously… waiting. The taller one was wearing the most ridiculous, clomping army boots and a obscene slogan emblazoned t-shirt; she had to be the chalkboard voice, thought Howard.
"I know why you're here." The smaller of the two girls giggled.
"Well, yeah." the obnoxious girl agreed. "Because I won the competition."
"By accident. Did you even want to enter this competition?"
"No. I was a bit eager with the phone call and rang the wrong show. I was trying to speak to Vince Noir."
"I don't know how you can fancy a voice."
"Mmm." The bigger girl giggled distantly. "I liked it when he used to be on air late at night. It was like I was going to sleep and he was just next to me, talking just to me." she paused for a second and then squealed like a pig, Howard thought, "I can't believe we're going to meet him soon."
"What if he's really ugly?"
"I'll close my eyes."
The smaller girl cocked her eyebrow as Howard's heart skipped a beat. These girls were going to meet Vince. He'd have to follow them to make sure he was around when Vince appeared. He glanced at the unmoving queue; this was going to take forever. He dug his hands deep in his coat pockets and groaned under his breath about the time but he always kept one beady eye on the girls.
It had been a good ten minutes and Howard still hadn't moved. He was thoroughly fed-up by now and he was freezing. He had no idea how all these cool, young gig-goers were walking around in such skimpy outfits. The two competition winners were still under the covered sign. They looked bored too, fidgeting impatiently as they discussed what colour eyes and hair the mysterious Vince Noir might have. The first band had just finished their last song and now there was a ten-minute lag before the next band came on, which meant no music and more of that infuriating buzzing, when thousands of people are talking at once.
Suddenly, the sign the girls were stood under had its cover removed revealing the large purple 'CHOICE FM' logo. Large speakers from some nearby, undisclosed position screamed out;
"Choice FM 107 point 1. 96 point 9. Choice FM. The Vince Noir Show."
A small crowd began to gather around to find out what was happening. The two girls Howard had been watching earlier screamed and leapt up and down with excitement. The jingle faded away and Vince's voice flooded the speakers. Howard looked around frantically for the owner of the voice and was annoyed at himself for acting just like every other attention seeking idiot within a hundred yard radius.
"Hey! You're listening to the Vince Noir Show on Choice FM, coming to you straight from the Get Loaded In The Park on Clapham Common. I would tell you to come along but the tickets are completely sold out. The only way to get involved now is to stay exactly where you are and to stay tuned in to Choice FM, London's best local radio station. In a few minutes we're going to be listening to the main stage where Maggots and Fleas are warming up for their killer set but for now lets have a chat with some of the people walking around. Hey girls. Now you're Bryony and Sarah, yes? You won the tickets from Sadie John's Breakfast Show to be here."
Howard's eyes flicked to the two screaming girls from earlier. The one who had been obnoxious and loud suddenly found herself totally stuck for words. She just murmured nonsense into the microphone that was being held out to her. Howard trailed his eyes along the microphone, up the skinny, exposed arm, and to the shoulder of a bright green t-shirt. His eyes followed up the man's neck and to his pointed chin and chiselled face. Vince. Howard smiled to himself as Vince brought the microphone back to his own mouth and said, "There you are guys, literally speechless." as the girl blurted 'I love you' and blushed furiously.
Vince chuckled a little and, after telling her he loved her too, passed over to the main stage and turned his microphone off. He held out his hand to the girls and made with all the niceties. Howard strained his ears to hear what was being said but the gathering crowd were too loud with their useless mutters of; 'Is that him? The one off the radio? I didn't think he'd look like that.'
Suddenly, Vince looked up and caught sight of Howard stood in the queue. He half waved and finished talking to the girls.
"Hey." he said when he got close. "I've been looking out for you but I sorta guessed you hadn't bothered to come."
"Are you joking? I love, err…" he strained his eyes to read the poster over Vince's shoulder, "'Fleet Street'."
"What? The punk band?" Vince asked in surprise. "I can introduce you to them if you like. I've met them a few times."
"Erm, no. It's okay. Never meet your heroes and all that." Howard chuckled lightly and Vince just gave him a knowing smile.
"What you waiting in this queue for?"
"Erm, coffee."
"They've got that at the media hut in the artist's' village. Come back and have a cup with me. I've got half an hour off now."
Howard followed Vince back to the hut and sat down at a small desk. There was paper strewn all over it, research of all the bands, highlighted names and times, people to be interviewed and complimented. He moved a few pieces of paper carefully. It was all pretty much the same. There were endless pictures of each and every artist, with their names and their instruments scribbled underneath in marker pen. Vince had probably been learning them so he didn't get them wrong in the interviews later. He looked up to see Vince pouring some boiling water into two polystyrene cups. His tongue was sticking out at the corner of his mouth as he concentrated hard on not spilling any of the liquid. Howard smiled. For the shortest of moments, he was back in the village and Vince was pouring cola into two luminous plastic cups.
He felt nervous, when Vince returned with two steaming coffees. What if the conversation was stilted and awkward? Howard didn't think he could bear it.
"Sorry bout the quality of coffee." Vince said with an apologetic smile, "But it's not any better at the burger vans."
"No. It's fine." smiled Howard, taking it and warming his hands around the flimsy white cup.
"So." Vince said, sitting down opposite Howard, "What've you been up to?"
"Ummm. Nothing special." Howard sighed, blowing the steam from his coffee and taking a sip of the pale, watery drink.
"Job?"
"Ummm. Not a good one. I went to university and then-"
"You went to uni?" Vince interrupted. Howard nodded, embarrassed by the tone of admiration in his old friend's voice. "That's amazing! You've gotta be one of the first ever from our school!"
"I don't know." Howard shrugged.
"What did you do there?"
"History Of Jazz Stationary."
"Boring then." grinned Vince, his cheeky smile taking Howard back to the school days, when Vince used to call him boring because he didn't hero worship Monty Python.
"Not at all, sir." Howard smiled back but then he sighed because he couldn't think of anything else to say.
"So, what did you do after uni?" With all these question, Howard couldn't help feel that Vince was interviewing him like any other person at this festival. This might have been talking but it certainly wasn't a conversation.
"Went back home. I tried to start a local newspaper but not enough happens it that village to make anything of it. One week, the most interesting bit of news was that Old Mrs Robinson bought a goldfish."
"Mrs Robinson?" Vince asked suddenly, his voice changing somehow. He sounded more excited, more interested.
"Yeah. Do you remember her?"
"How could I forget? She was a miserable cow." And suddenly it was a conversation. "I'm pretty sure she was the devil. Remember when I tried to get you to play football and you kicked the ball over her garden. You broke a few roses in her flowerbed or something. I thought she was going to skin us alive. She came chasing after you with her belt." Vince laughed out loud, suddenly became very serious and said; "And I swear she killed Thumper."
"Oh yeah, your bloody rabbit."
Vince grinned. "Are you cursing in front of a vicar's son, Mr Moon?"
"Oh sorry."
"Oh get lost." laughed Vince. "As if I care. As if I've ever cared."
"Oh." Howard laughed uneasily, taking a purposeful sip of his coffee to give him time to think of something to say.
"So," Vince smiled, continuing now with easy rapport, "how is the rabbit-murdering, belt-wielding, fun-killing, old bat anyway?"
"Ummm, she died." Howard answered.
"Oh." Vince said solemnly and then he snorted and collapsed into fits of laughter. "Woops." he chuckled and Howard laughed too because Vince's laugh was still infectious even after all these years.
"I'm surprised you didn't hear about it actually. It was the talk of the village for weeks."
Suddenly, Vince was quiet, "Yeah, I don't have much contact with anyone from the village." And just as suddenly, he was bouncy and happy again, asking, "Was the new goldfish the only news story you covered?"
"Yeah." Howard joked, though if he was honest, that wasn't too far from the truth.
"Something else must have happened though." Vince pressed.
"To be honest with you, most people were more interested in what had happened to Vince Noir."
Vince looked at Howard, his face the picture of calm but Howard saw the flash of anxiety in those blue eyes. Maybe that was the problem with having such big, clear, blue eyes. They gave away your innermost feelings without permission.
"What were they interested in?" he asked in a voice that suggested a casual interest.
"Just what happened. Why you moved schools. Why you suddenly became so reclusive. Why you disappeared."
"Teenage angst." Vince forced a chuckle and then muttered under his breath, "That village was always full of nosy buggers."
Howard nodded his agreement. "You were the stuff of school yard legend by the time I left that place. Kids were always telling me that there was a crazy man living in the vicarage attic."
Vince forced an awkward smile. "What did you tell them?"
"That it was a half man, half bat, who came out at night and stole the sweets from children who weren't well behaved."
"Nice to know I'm encouraging good behaviour." Vince muttered with a small smile.
"Mm." Howard sipped his coffee again. "Most people thought you were dead, even I was beginning to wonder." he paused for a second, taking another sip of coffee as he tried to ignore the forced quality of Vince's smile. He didn't want to upset Vince but he really wanted to know, "Why didn't you come back after your last term in boarding school?"
"Umm. When I finished, erm, boarding school, they said I shouldn't go back to the village."
"They?"
"The, erm, people there."
"Teachers?"
"Yeah. Them." Vince said hurriedly. "I left anyway. Came down here. I'd been working in some really rubbish jobs until I met Katharine."
"Katharine?"
"My girlfriend."
"Girlfriend?" Howard questioned. He couldn't help himself. "I thought you were, you know… ga-"
"No!" Vince interrupted quickly. "I'm not. Wasn't. Never. That was a phase. A stupid, sick, disgusting phase. I could never." Vince shuddered and went a little pale. He looked a little nauseous but he forced an even larger, even more forced smile at Howard. "I've gotta go. I'm interviewing a band in a minute."
"Oh. Okay." Howard said. Though they'd only been chatting ten minutes and he knew Vince had said he had a break now. He couldn't help feeling that if he didn't do something now, he'd never see Vince again. So, in a moment of sheer desperation to not lose his old friend, he asked, "D'you fancy going to the pub later?"
"Umm. I guess." said Vince, though he didn't look convinced. "There's a King's Head on the corner just down the road from here. I'll meet you there at…" he looked at the clock on the hut wall, "half nine."
Howard agreed. Then he found himself being hauled to his feet by the smaller man.
"Okay. Great." Vince forced another smiled, as he steered Howard towards the door of the hut and Howard could help notice that Vince's hands on his shoulders were shaking furiously and deathly white.
"Are you okay?" Howard asked as he was shoved unceremoniously out of the door.
"I'm fine… Bye." Vince said and slammed the door in his face.
Vince slumped against the door and let out a long, shuddering sigh. He looked up to see one of the radio station's runners looking at him in complete confusion.
"You need some aspirin or something Vince?" the girl asked politely."No thanks." he smiled.
"Whiskey." she offered laughed a little and declined the offer. He slumped down in the chair and put his head in his hands. What had just happened? He hadn't felt like that for years and years. What was wrong with him? This wasn't supposed to happen anymore. He was supposed to be over this.
Howard looked at the closed door and at the cold coffee in his cup. He didn't have a clue what had happened. They were having a lovely chat, just like old friends, and then Vince had flipped and become strange. He'd acted like a child, who was trying really hard not to throw a tantrum. It was like he was holding back some pent up frustration; maybe a secret or a lie. Howard sighed and made a mental note not to bring up being gay again. However, he still couldn't help feel there was more to Vince's life than he was letting on.
Quick update because… OMG *sobs* I'm losing internet on my laptop for an indeterminate period of time *sobs again* Hopefully, it will only be a couple of days but I literally have no idea. I still have internet on my family's computer so I can still read fics but no updates for this until my internet comes back! Sorry!
Please Review? xx