Luke
Luke stood alone against the back wall of the playground, watching the kids playing football. A wayward shot sent the ball bouncing in his direction, but he knew better than to kick it back. They had a real go at him last time he touched ‘their ball’. If they’d just let him join in, he could get talking to someone and it might lead to his first friend.
Perhaps the two boys nearby would speak to him. Someone had to eventually.
“So where we gonna meet on Friday for the Sheer gig?” the short, ginger boy said, without even a glance towards Luke.
Maybe, just maybe, this would be a way to get to know them. Luke loved Sheer.
“Dunno,” said the tall one – greasy hair and funny shaped ears. “Text me.” Then his head turned towards Luke. “You looking at us, Farm Boy?”
Since joining the school four weeks ago, Luke had tried to minimise his Cornish accent, but they all picked up on it. No. Better not to say anything to these two, but the words just came out. “I’ve got a ticket for Sheer. We could go together.”
Ears stared at Luke, then nodded towards the other side of the playground. No more words were said, and Luke was well aware this could go very wrong, but he couldn’t back out now.
They reached a corner, out of sight of the teacher on playground duty. “So you’re going to see Sheer?” said Ears.
“Yeah.”
Ears pushed his face right in front of Luke’s. “I don’t think so.”
“Er… I’ve got a ticket, so why wouldn’t I go?”
Luke just managed to duck out of the way of an attempted headbutt, but Ginger grabbed his arms and Ears sent a fist thumping into his guts, knocking all the wind out of him. “If I see you.” A second punch. “At Sheer.” A third into the ribs. “You’re dead meat.” A fourth. “Understand?” A final punch in the side.
A last kick as he lay on the ground sent new pain surging through him and bile seeping up his throat. The boys walked away, laughing. “Seeya, Farm Boy.”
He got up, but immediately doubled over, hurting badly, waiting for the pain to subside. Well that hadn’t gone to plan. Making friends would have to wait, but it certainly wouldn’t stop him going to see Sheer.
The bruises were a dark purple three days later, and his ribs still really hurt, but it was Friday afternoon and Luke could hardly contain himself. His mum kissed him goodbye and handed him an envelope. “Now don’t forget to post it. And have a lovely time at the barbecue.”
“I will,” he said, feeling guilty about the necessary lie. She’d never let him go to a concert on his own in London.
If only Lauren had been there. She was the only girlfriend he’d ever had, but she was ‘sensible enough’ (according to his mum) to know it wouldn’t last if he was 300 miles away.
And that was only one reason why the last month had been the hardest in the fourteen years of his life. His mum said the move up to the capital was a job opportunity she couldn’t turn down, and initially the idea had sent tingles down his spine. But then he started to miss not only Lauren, but also his mates. Evenings and weekends became empty, eventless spaces – television and internet only papering over the cracks of his boredom. The concert was the first thing he’d really looked forward to since leaving Cornwall.
When he’d found out about Sheer, he’d immediately got on Messenger. ‘Lauren, Matt, Jon - Can you make it? Brixton Academy – best gig venue in the city!’
None of them could. Parents.
On the underground bound for Brixton, the sight of his reflection in the tube window caused a sudden loss of confidence. The jeans were fine, but the flowery shirt? Honestly, what had made him think orange and green was a cool combination?
He arrived at the Brixton Academy and had a tentative look around. After the threats, part of him wanted to avoid the two kids from school, but another part wanted to see them, and them to see him – show them he could stand up to anyone. Maybe they’d respect him for that. He’d do anything to make friends, even ones who didn’t like him.
The line outside the venue was a hundred long already. Should he join it now or stand around pretending to wait for others? Some people nearby laughed. They must have seen his flowery shirt.
And what about his mum’s letter? It was addressed to someone in New York. Maybe that was where his dad was from. (“Spencer was a good man, but just not cut out to be a father,” was all his mum had ever said about him.)
He looked for a post-box, but if he didn’t join the queue soon, he’d have no chance of getting near the stage. In the distance up Brixton Hill, he thought he could see one. Too far. The letter could wait. He just had to be sure not to lose it during the concert. He joined the back of the line.
Within minutes there was a rush of excitement as the doors opened and everyone started moving. Luke ran through the entrance hall and towards the stage. Not quick enough to get that all-important position right at the front, but pretty close. He would be less than three metres from lead singer, Candy Kendrick.
It was a tense wait as the roadies prepared the set, and the pressure of the crowd on all sides built with every passing minute. Even on tiptoes he couldn’t see much – the people in front were at least a head taller than him. Most Sheer fans were teenagers, but at fourteen, Luke was most likely one of the very youngest at the gig.
Then, from the darkness, Spin, the lead guitarist, ripped into a chord, announcing the first instantly recognisable song, Deek. A massive roar went up as the lights flared. The two giants in front of Luke parted for a second and he had a perfect view as Candy strutted out on stage. A wide smile spread across his face.
“She looks fantastic!” he shouted to the fan next to him, very glad he’d worn his contact lenses rather than his glasses.
“Yeah, unbelievable!” the guy shouted back.
Luke bounced up and down and sang along with everyone else as Candy pumped out the words. “I’m a deek. I’m a zero.” Now it didn’t matter he was on his own. He’d never felt so good about anything. Ever.
The first song finished with a final thrashing chord from Spin’s guitar, and Luke joined in the roars and applause. Then a slight space appeared in front of him. Could he get between the two basketball players? He had to have a go.
It worked. He was a metre nearer the stage and with a much better view.
The second song, No Gravity was just as wild as the first. "Floating. We're floating." Luke sang out the words at the top of his voice. Another gap opened up in front of him. He moved forward. Another metre closer.
He glanced around at the fans nearby and saw the one person he did, and didn’t want to see. Ears was only two people away to the left, staring at the band. A rush of nerves coursed through Luke at how close the guy who’d beaten him up was. He could also make out the top of a ginger head, obviously unable to see much. Luke allowed himself a smile.
By the middle of the third song his flowery shirt was soaked and the smell of sweat hung in the air. He might have some explaining to do to his mum and her sensitive nose, but it didn’t matter because he was there, right at the front. He couldn’t believe it.
Guitar chords tore over his head and Candy screamed into the microphone. Luke was shoved into the security barrier time and again, but now the pain in his ribs didn’t matter at all.
All he could think of was getting onto the stage and dancing with the band. It looked impossible, but at the end of the next song, and only for a split second, the crush subsided and the man next to him took the opportunity to crouch down, looking for something he’d dropped.
Then he saw his chance. He’d show Ears and Ginger he was no Cornish yokel scared of bullies like them. In a second he’d used the guy’s back as the step up he needed to heave himself onto the narrow security barrier. A final push off the crouching fan and he was on the top, swaying back and forward.
Now for the big leap across the divide before the security heavies in the pit grabbed him, and he’d be there, right alongside Candy Kendrick. He was having the time of his life. It really couldn’t get any better.
High above the rest of the fans, Luke balanced on top of the security barrier. A thousand eyes were on him and there was no turning back now. He launched himself forward, but just at that moment his shirt seemed to snag on something. He felt the ripping material and he pivoted in midair. The stage fell out of view and the lights above came into sight.
He started plunging backwards.