Page 55 of Revelry

“Okay, babe, if you go in like that he’s going to toss us both out on our arses before we even set foot inside. Where’s the bad-tempered woman I know and love so much? You never behaved this way in front of us.”

“That’s because you’re not Josh Holme, you can’t be Josh Holme.” I shake my head “You will never be Josh Holme.”

“Gee, thanks, Red. You really know how to boost a man’s ego.”

“You’ll never ever be Josh,” I whisper, making sure we’re clear on this point.

The door opens and Dave Growl—former drummer of inarguably one of the greatest bands of all time, and Rock and Roll Hall Of Fame Inductee—stands before me in all his resplendent bearded glory. My mouth gapes open, and apparently I no longer possess the brainpower to close it.

“Hey man, long time no see,” Dave says, shaking Levi’s hand in a complicated rock-star handshake.

“Yeah, it’s been, what? Two months?”

Dave nods. “Bowie’s party, right? Dude, Coop was so fucking wasted that night. Where the hell is he?”

“Passed out in a puddle of drool, no doubt,” Levi says. “Fucking lightweight.”

“Can’t say I blame him. If my wife up and left me with my unborn kid, I’d want to drown in liquor too.”

“Dave Growl just answered Josh’s door,” I whisper to Levi, but from the look on Dave’s face, I’m thinking it wasn’t so much a whisper as it was shouting.

“Who’s this?” Dave asks, looking me over for the first time.Oh my god, Dave Growl is looking at me.

“This is Red. She’s our PA.”

“Nice to meet you, Red,” Dave says, but it doesn’t sound like he thinks it’s nice, and he’s looking at Levi as if he thinks he’s fucking crazy for bringing a fangirl into Josh’s house. I need to calm the hell down. I need a drink. I need—I don’t know what the hell I need. A paper bag and a fluffy blanket. I don’t like my chances of getting any of that here, so I just continue to stand there and tremor ever so slightly until Dave urges us farther inside the house.

“Be cool, babe,” Levi says, tightening his arm around my shoulder. And I take a deep breath, but then we round the corner into a lounge room and,Infected, the game I’ve been waiting more than a year and a half for, is projected on the giant plasma screen TV and whoever is manning the controller is butchering the shit out of it, and not playing it properly.

“You’re butchering it!” I shout.Because they are. I’ve been waiting so long to get my hands on this game and when I finally do see it firsthand, some idiot is ruining the entire experience. My eyes glue to the TV screen as I round the couch and sit down hard on the squishy sofa.

“Hey Levi, how’s it going? Who’s this fucking bitch you brought into my house, man?”

“Hey man, this is Ali. She’s our PA.”

“Hi.” I turn and give him a weak smile.

“I’m Josh.”

“I know,” I squeak, and then because I get nervous around real rock stars, my brain decides that my mouth should just start spewing every single thought in my head, “I’m sorry, but you don’t realise how long I’ve waited to play this game, and to come in and find you slaughtering it, it just … I really need a paper bag and a fluffy blanket. I really, really need a fluffy blanket.”

Josh looks at Levi with wide eyes. “Is she high?”

“Nope, that’s just Ali.”

“You’re Josh Holme,” I whisper, taking in all of his face, the creases at the corners of his eyes, the ginger scruff lining his jaw.

“Yes, I am.”

“You’re Josh Holme, and I’m here and in your house, and you’re ruining the greatest video game known to mankind, and why hasn’t someone given me a fluffy blanket?” I say, and my voice reaches a whole new level of crazy. I can’t breathe. “I really need a fluffy blanket.”

“Okay, take a deep breath, darlin’,” Josh says, gently grasping the tops of my shoulders.

“You’re Josh Holme, and you’re touching me.”

“Uh huh.” He glances over my shoulder to someone behind me and says, “Get a fluffy blanket, for fuck’s sake.”

Seconds later Dave lays a soft black blanket with the Kings of the Iron Age logo over my lap. My hands automatically latch onto it and I rub the soft fabric between my thumbs and forefingers.

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