The Hush Society Presents..., Izzy Matias [cat reading book .TXT] 📗

the state I'd left my family for tour, how Mum and Dad are on the brink of divorce, Dad not talking to me even if I send him an e-mail update from time to time about tour to let him know I'm all right, how Tamara and Timmy must be doing being caught in the middle of a mess I made.

She doesn't interrupt me, nor does the way she looks at me change. By the end of it, it's like I've unloaded my baggage. She takes my hand, squeezes it, but drops it right away. "Music should connect people, not tear away those most important to you."

She’s not trying to take sides, so I don’t know why this flares up anger within me, but it does.

"This is my fault," she gasps.

"Of course not," I snort. "Why on earth would you think that?"

"I asked you to join this tour." She covers her face with her hands.

"It was my decision to not go to Uni. Not yours," I say. All anger has vanished. "You didn’t know that."

"I feel somewhat responsible."

"Don’t," I say, holding a hand up.

"NEXT!" The man in the liquor station shouts and our conversation pauses. I tell him our orders and he asks for ID. After returning our IDs, I face Cassie. "Drink’s on me."

She thanks me, and turns red from embarrassment.

The bartender pushes two ice-cold cups of Jack Daniels and I give one to her. We turn our backs and head to the next stage.

"Callum wants to meet up sometime soon to discuss Ear for Music in detail," Cassie says and sips her drink. "Says he has a lot of ideas and wants to bring a load of people to help us with it."

"Look at you. Mobile pals with Callum Ford." I whistle then take a swig of my drink.

She laughs.

A few metres from the liquour station, there's a small, unlabeled side stage.

"What's that?" Cassie says, spotting it the same time I do.

"Let's find out." Together, we make our way to the side stage—our footsteps in sync with each other.

A clump of curious people—like us—approach the stage where a duo are singing a stripped-down cover of a rock song. The turnout is sporadic: a compressed lot up in front and then some farther away. There are chunks of blank spaces and people scattered everywhere, most of them sporting a plastic cup in their hands. We hover near the photo pit area of the stage and watch until the duo wraps up their set. When they re-join a group near us, I realise they aren't wearing the official festival passes.

"Excuse me," I say as I approach the duo. The group’s boisterous chatter weakens. "I was wondering how you two were able to perform on stage without an official pass?"

"The stage is open to all. If you wanna play, just go up," One of them says.

"So it's like an open mic stage?" I say and he nods.

This is new to the festival. I ring Benji since he's with Eric and tell them about it. We agree to meet up in a few hours to play at the open mic stage. This means we can't get too pissed.

After the last band we all want to catch, my best mates huff and puff as they lug our gear in tow. I dash to them, get my acoustic guitar and set-up on stage.

"What if someone from a record label sees us and discovers us here?" Eric bounces on stage.

"Definitely a possibility," Benji says, biting the guitar plectrum in his mouth.

When we’re ready, Eric taps his Cajon, counts down, and we dive straight for the cliff. Cassie and Ella watch us from the side of the stage.

"Hello." I beam at the crowd. It's a pretty good turnout considering there are still a few more bands on the main stages. "We're The Fortunate Only from Beverley, East Yorkshire."

Somebody hoots at us. "Yeah, represent!"

Eric responds with a double tap on the Cajon and raises his hands in the air.

"We're going to play a short set for you lot. Hope you enjoy. This one's an original called ‘Ignite.’"

It's a rowdy response. I expect this much, considering more than half of the people watching us seem pissed.

"Some of you may know The Gramophones," I begin. The crowd erupts in whistles and hollers. "They've been a massive inspiration to our band. This next one's a tribute to The Gramophones," I say and we launch into a cover of "Burn Brighter."

"Do you have room for two more?"

As we pluck the enigmatic intro, I see Cassie and Ella's shocked faces.

I know that voice.

Eric curses and stops.

Benji can't even form a coherent sentence.

Callum and Josh Ford emerge from behind Cassie and Ella, holding two pints. The crowd screams with excitement.

…

Callum and Josh Ford!

A string of profanities explode in my head.

"There’s always room," I say and continue plucking. Gotta play this cool. Besides, Callum and I have already shared an awkward moment back at The Verve, so there’s no point in getting awestruck again.

But Josh Ford—who’s been underground for the last two years—is here.

People flock towards them. A mob forms.

I try to wrap my head around the fact that two-fifths of The Gramophones are in our midst.

"We’ve no extra instruments though," Benji says.

I don’t know how I am not going completely bonkers when the bassist and vocalist of one of my favourite bands has asked if they can join us on stage.

Eric’s mouth is agape.

I laugh.

"Doesn’t matter," Josh slurs. He stops beside Cassie—a little too close—while Callum leans against a tree, drinking from his cup.

"Carry on!" Josh instructs us and motions with both his hands. "From the top…three, two…" He skips the number one, shouts "Go!" and sings the intro to their song.

We scramble to try to catch up with his singing, but all of a sudden the crowd is singing at the top of their pissed lungs—albeit out of tune. My grin widens and turns into laughter. Josh is laughing, too.

Our voices rise to a crescendo. I would not trade this moment for anything.

Josh