Page 38 of When We Were Young

Will was dazzled by the blue stage lights. The same blue lights that flooded the photograph in the NME . Thanks to the review last month, they were back at the Dublin Castle. But this time they were headlining. And on a Saturday night, too.

He checked the tuning on his guitar one last time and stepped on the reverb pedal.

He turned to Reu, whose mass of ringlets were glowing like a blue halo, and gave him a nod.

Reu bashed his sticks together, and they launched into ‘Random Anthem’.

To Will’s surprise, a few people sang along to the chorus.

A group of lads – maybe Reu’s friends? – were jumping up and down at the front.

The lights dipped and changed to red, illuminating the twelve A&R dudes lined up at the back behind the crowd.

Will didn’t know for sure they were A&R, but that was Matty’s theory.

In his words, they ‘stood out like turds in a fruit bowl’.

They weren’t wearing suits, but they looked different somehow from the average gig-goer.

The blue lights came on again, and he could go back to pretending no one was watching.

He propelled the song to its final crescendo, and the crowd erupted into enthusiastic applause.

As he stepped up to the microphone, the lights dipped again, showing several of the A&R suspects staring at the stage. None of them were talking and at least three of them had their arms folded across their chests. Talk about negative body language. Will swallowed. ‘This one’s called “Forbidden”.’

As he played the opening chords, he searched the crowd for Emily. He found her right in the middle, beaming at him. For a moment it was just the two of them, her eyes holding onto his. Then the lights changed, and she was gone.

She was there with her friends Miranda and Scott.

He’d met Miranda before the show. She wore a Stones t-shirt knotted at the waist with the sleeves cut off, revealing her extensive tattoos.

When Emily went off to the loo, Miranda had said something about ‘treating her right or answering to her’.

She made out she was joking, but she meant what she said.

He recalled the angry performance he gave the last time he was on this stage.

Matty offered to smash his hand with a hammer, to get him in the mood tonight, but he didn’t need to be angry.

He needed to focus on that glowing review, the sold-out tickets and the record company dudes at the back of the room.

He had every reason to believe in himself.

He got caught up in the song and the crowd came along with him. And when it finished, the applause was long and loud. Matty’s face said it all – eyes gleaming, beaming smile. It didn’t get better than this.

The rest of the set was exhilarating, and they left the stage to thunderous, drunken applause.

Another advantage of playing the headline slot was people were more up for a good time and too pissed to notice any mistakes.

Backstage, Will drew Matty and Reu in and they jumped up and down, whooping as the applause continued.

They were hoping for an encore, and they got two, squeezing in four more songs before the landlord pulled the plug.

Matty ushered them out to the bar. ‘Richard Eason’s here. He wants to buy us all a drink – let’s order doubles.’

Eason was waiting at the bar in his signature biker jacket, even though it was a hundred degrees in the pub. ‘That was awesome!’ He took Will’s hand and pumped it up and down. ‘There were some flashes of brilliance there and things we can work on. Listen, I want to sign you.’

Will’s heart stopped beating. ‘You do?’

‘Yes,’ Eason leant in and bellowed in his ear over the chatter of the bar. ‘But it’s not only up to me. I want to get this over the line. Let me take you for lunch next week. I’ll bring the big boss, and we’ll make this happen.’

‘Okay. Great.’ He would have to chuck a sickie at work.

‘Let me tell you something. You see these guys behind me?’ Eason jerked his head towards a group of men hovering nearby.

‘Yeah…’

Eason grabbed his elbow and steered him away. ‘They’re from XL Recordings but they won’t have the budgets we have at Island. They won’t give you the support you need to launch a career with a future.’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘You need to think long term, Will.’ Eason sounded serious. ‘You understand?’

Will nodded. ‘Yeah.’

Eason kept him talking for ages, Matty jigging around in his peripheral vision for most of the conversation. As soon as he could, Will excused himself to go to the gents’ and Matty followed.

‘Jesus, that guy can talk,’ said Matty, taking the space beside him at the urinal. ‘XL Recordings want a meeting next week.’

Will nearly pissed on his jeans. ‘What?’ He would have to chuck two sickies. Nigel would go ballistic.

‘And there are people here from Virgin, Black Dog Music, and Flux Records!’

‘Richard Eason wants to sign us.’

Matty’s voice was high. ‘So do these guys!’

‘Eason said they won’t have big enough budgets.’

‘He would say that. Anyway, he doesn’t know what their budgets are. We should talk to everyone. Play them off each other. We’re in the perfect position to negotiate. Let’s not rush into anything.’

Will buttoned his fly and went to the sink.

‘Holy shit,’ he told his reflection.

That night they drank with Richard Eason until they got ejected from the Dublin Castle.

Matty invited everyone back to his place and went ahead with some mates on the tube.

Emily, Scott, and Miranda jumped in the back of the van with the gear, and Reu rode up front with Will.

They stopped at a petrol station and spent a small fortune on alcohol and snacks.

As they turned onto Matty’s road, bass boomed from his flat. The party had spilled out onto the street even though his flat was on the second floor. Some of the people hadn’t even been at the gig – Matty must have picked them up along the way.

They carried the booze up the stairs, and as they entered the flat, everyone cheered. There was a lot of backslapping and congratulating as he crossed the room.

He played it down, saying, Let’s see what comes of it … It never rains, it pours, right?… Hope they don’t forget about us when they sober up .

Having been the designated driver, Will was distinctly sober, so he went straight in with whiskey. Taking a swig, he watched his friends laughing and drinking, and tried to let go of the nagging worry about what the next week would bring.

Reu was sitting on the floor in front of the stereo, surrounded by piles of CDs, creating a decent party soundtrack while simultaneously rolling a joint.

That kid was always surprising him. Pretty soon everyone was dancing and singing – or more accurately, jumping up and down and shouting lyrics at the top of their lungs.

Being on the brink of all your dreams coming true was a thrill.

It reminded Will of being a kid at Christmas with a pile of unopened presents under the tree.

That was his favourite part, when you didn’t know what was underneath all that wrapping paper.

Whatever it was, could never live up to that moment of not knowing, even if it was exactly what you wanted.

That was how he felt now. Tomorrow was full of possibility.

It might hold more than he could wish for.

Will felt slightly separate from everyone else but it was probably because he was just drunk, and they were all completely wasted.

Reu played ‘Paradise City’ and Will joined the circle of bodies in the centre of the room, everyone linked with arms over shoulders: Matty spilling his drink as he pogoed, Reu moshing his ringlets around, Miranda dropping her cool to belt out the chorus, Scott breaking off to play air guitar, and Emily bent double with laughter.

He took a swig of whiskey and gave in to the excitement in his gut, allowed warm elation to spread through his body. It was happening. It was finally happening. The beat of the music reverberated through his body – booming in his chest.

And he wondered if he would ever feel this good again.