Page 56 of Replay
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Alle edged into the side of the tall marquee decked out inBang!bunting.She’d managed to blag her way in on the pretext that she was hunting down her brother, Marshall.Apparently, they bore enough of a family resemblance, what with their flame-red hair, that no one had squinted too hard at her.It helped that she was already sporting a VIP lanyard that gave her access to the whole of the backstage: band area, press zone, the works, as well as the festival grounds at large.
Poor Ronnie sat in the centre of an enormous overstuffed white couch.A forlorn, black-clad figure with a mop of dark hair.His elastic grin was nowhere to be seen, and there was not a single strawberry lace, flying saucer, or Jelly Tot littered about his person.No slushie with a multi-coloured straw.No can of IRN-BRU.No paper bags that he could rustle.Not even a phone to swipe.She could see his label representative standing on the other side of the tent, Ronnie’s rose-gold coloured phone clamped firmly in his hand.
Surely that was a tad unnecessary.A man was entitled to hang on to his own personal property.Really, what did it matter if it was in his pocket during an interview?It might have given him some focus while he waited too, instead of being left to stew.No one liked being made to sit around.
There was a large video camera pointed at him, and a woman wielding a large boom microphone stood off to one side.The only thing missing seemed to be the interviewer.From what she’d heard of Ava Leigh, the bitch was probably making him sweat on the sofa deliberately.
Alle took a step towards Ronnie, but an officious twerp in a baseball cap, holding a clipboard shoved her backwards.“We’re about to begin.Are you even supposed to be in here?”He ushered her outside, and closed up the tent flap to block her re-entry.
“I’m his producer, you knob-end.”Alle kicked at a patch of daisies poking through the short-shorn grass.Even if she couldn’t get back inside, she was sticking around.Ronnie looked like he’d need a friend to hang around with afterwards.
Actually, he looked like he was going to need a drink.
Initially, she headed for the nearby bar, but deviated to the stall next door.Ronnie drank, but he’d probably appreciate a virulent blue slushie more, maybe with a splash of vodka.Ginny patted her on the shoulder as she was being served.
“Hey.That for Ronnie?”
Alle nodded at Ash’s force-of-nature wife, and was surprised when on receipt of her order, Ginny linked arms with her.She was dressed in her festival wear of teeny tiny shorts, fishnet tights and spotted wellington boots.Her ‘Mrs Gore’ T-shirt had been cropped with a pair of scissors so that it rested well above her midriff, and she had her eyes done up in a smoky style that made looking at her kind of hypnotic.She flashed Alle the biggest, red-lipped smile.
“Ash got himself dragged off by security.”She waved to a large-ish marquee in the distance.“They’re giving him a dressing down.Sally’s with him, so he’ll be fine.It wasn’t like he was actually doing anything.TheBang!bods were the ones being shirty.I mean, he was only trying to show his friend some support, but I guess they’re twitchy after what happened with Spook.”
“Ash was in with Ronnie?”
“Was,” Ginny reiterated with a sigh.“But theBang!team weren’t having any of that.Not after they’d been told there was no fucking chance on earth they were getting an interview with the headlining act.Black Halo are talking to all the little guys instead.It’ll take longer, but the rewards are likely to be way bigger.Nothing good ever came out of an interview that Ava Leigh presided over.”
“Is it safe leaving Ronnie in there?”
Ginny shrugged her narrow shoulders, which had the effect of making her wildly curled hair bush out further.“They’re not going to assault him.Ava’s good at her job.She’s just an abhorrent bitch.Does Ronnie normally fall for flirting?”
Alle had to admit that she really didn’t know.Most of their interactions had taken place one on one inside a recording studio.
“I don’t suppose you could blag your way in by name-dropping your brother?”
Alle sighed.“Already tried that one.It got me in the door, and chucked out again twice as fast.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah.”
“In which case,” Ginny squeezed her arm tighter, “Let’s see if there’s a back door.”
They kept up the pretence of being two close friends enjoying a bit of the site before the real mayhem began in order to get past the various members of theBang!team hanging around their HQ entrance.Then they slid between the tent and the one beside it, and wove between the guy-ropes to where a large generator was chugging away at the back.While there was no official rear exit, there was a panel improperly laced, potentially deliberately to allow for some airflow.Ginny peeped through it first, then stood back and offered Alle the primary view.
“Looks like they’re about to begin.Has he done many interviews before?”
“I’m not sure,” Alle admitted.Her brows furrowed as she thought back to the weeks they’d spent in the studio together and the times they’d hung out since.She couldn’t recall interviews ever having come up as a topic of conversation.“I think he might have filled in some paper ones.”
The grimace on Ginny’s face said it all.Paper questionnaires were no preparation for the likes of Ava Leigh and her posse.
“Oh,” Alle murmured.The interviewer had emerged from behind the shadowy screening at the far end of the make-shift studio.It wasn’t Ava.It was Marshall with his widow’s peak, and some newly acquired facial hair.He walked up to Ronnie, who stood, nervously wiping clammy hands down his thighs, before he accepted the handshake.
Resettled on the white sofa, Marshall faced the camera.“This is Marshall Hutton, here in Gothenburg with the man who’s exploded the download charts in the last twenty-four hours – Ronnie Bush.Ronnie, welcome to theBang!couch.”He grinned, showing off recently bleached teeth.“Ronnie, we’re all loving the new track.Are we going to be hearing you playLies in the Makingthis weekend?Guys out there, if you’re not already all over this track, follow the link.Bang!are giving it a solid five gold stars, and we’re all itching for the album to drop.”
Ronnie’s long fingers clenched and unclenched on his denim-clad knees, fingers rising and falling, like he was playing piano, recalling the rhythm and notes.He tried to reply, and looked confused when Marshall continued with his rambling welcome.
“I swear they said it was going to be Ava doing the interview,” Ginny muttered into Alle’s ear.“Wonder what prompted the change?”
