Friday, 14 May 2010

"I hope they like us."

After a two-hour delay, six-hour flight, and half an hour held up at passport control, Sapphic finally set foot in NYC. Travelling with an entourage afforded them the luxury of not dealing with baggage claim; fortunate, as there were foul moods all round as hangovers caught up. Five grumpy musicians collapsed in Arrivals area and Gemma went to see if the car had arrived.

Wolf grinned at his band mates. “Well, we’re here.”

“This is gonna be a blast,” Kev said, looking at the hustle and bustle.

Shane fingered his prayer beads for reassurance. “I hope they like us.”

“Course they’ll like ya.” Jacks cast an eye over his scruffy brood. “They loved ya last time.”

“I need a cigarette,” grumbled Spacey.

“Yeah, me too,” Wolf said. “Another bloody city with a stupid smoking ban. Sooner we get to the hotel, the better; I’m gonna smoke five at once.”

Jacks checked his Blackberry for emails. “Let’s get settled in and then we’ll go to Drill. Smoke all ya want there. I ain’t been back in a while, the place could be razed to the ground.”

“How come we didn’t go last time?”

“Ya did,” Jacks said wryly. “Ya were too wasted to remember.”

“I need a few hours kip before we hit the town.” Wolf yawned. If he didn’t get out of the airport soon, he’d crash. He switched his phone on and turned the handset round in his hand, thinking about the argument with Luna. The wedding couldn’t really be off. He cleared off to give her space, but now he wondered she’d mistaken his lack of contact for disinterest. Why couldn’t he keep his dick in his trousers? He flicked the handset open and speed-dialled her number.

Jay kicked his foot. “We’re off.”

Wolf looked up and saw the others following Gemma. He disconnected the call and stuffed his phone in his pocket. “Where’s our stuff?”

“On the trolleys.” Kev pointed to crew pushing luggage carts towards the exit. “Car’s outside, let’s get out of here.”

“Sweet!” Shane whistled, seeing the stretch limousine.

“Don’t get used to it,” Jacks said. “You’ll be slummin’ it in vans and buses. But it’s good to make a grand entrance.”

On cue, a swarm of girls rushed over. “Omigod!” screamed one. “You guys are that British band, right?”

“Yeah, Coldplay,” joked Spacey.

“No you’re not!” giggled another girl. She thrust a pen and piece of paper forward. “Sapphic! I saw you on MTV. Can I get an autograph?”

“Sure.” Spacey signed his name with a flourish.

“You guys are so freakin’ hot!”

“You’re the singer, I recognised you straight away.” A girl flung her arms round Wolf. “The album rocks. Can I get a photo with you?”

“Sure, babe.” Wolf grinned, Luna momentarily forgotten. “What’s your name?”

“Danni.” The girl pushed her phone into a friend’s hand and wrapped her arms round his waist. “You’re tall! And sexy.”

“This is a wonderful welcome, I must say.” Wolf posed for the picture.

The girl exchanged places with her friend, and then they all squashed in for Jacks to take a group shot of the band and their new fans.

“So are you guys in town to play a show?”

“Yeah, we’re at Club Europa tomorrow night – where’s that, Jacks? - and then we have a show in New Jersey the night after.”

“Greenpoint.” Jacks eyeballing the growing crowd.

“Oh, we are so coming!”

“You old enough?” Kev said.

“We’re twenty-one.”

“Of course you are.” Wolf laughed. “Listen, get IDs sorted, and we’ll see you at the show.”

The crowd grew excitable. Concerned for the band’s safety, Jacks signalled to security to get them into the car. Wolf stuck his head out of the window as the vehicle moved off.

“Club Europa, tomorrow!”

The crowd cheered and screamed, and a few girls tried to chase the limousine, but were soon left behind. With JFK not yet out of sight, the boys already had the minibar open.

“Fuck, yeah!” Wolf climbed out of the sunroof and blew a kiss at two women on the sidewalk. He bent down and grinned at his friends. “I love this.”

“How long ‘til we get to the hotel?” Kev handed Wolf a glass of champagne.

“An hour.” Jacks flicked through the documents on his knee.

“To conquering the States.” Wolf slotted in beside Kev. “World domination next!”

* * *

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Paparazzi get everywhere!

“Come on lads, leave it out,” Shane shouted. “Haven’t you got any heart?”

“Yeah, fuck off, vermin!” Wolf played the part of unhinged madman perfectly. He picked up a rock and lobbed it at one of them, hitting him square on the forehead.

“I’ll have you, mate!” The paparazzo bellowed in pain and anger.

“Blow me!” Wolf hurled another. “You’re trespassing!”

Kev joined him. An all-out riot broke out between the band and the hacks, as punches were thrown and equipment broken.

“Let’s get off!” yelled Spacey, jumping into the van.

The others got in without much hassle. Spacey grinned, safe in the knowledge they’d be the hot topic for the next few days; celebrities hated the paparazzi. Sapphic definitely had the sympathy vote.

Wolf shielded his face and gave the photographers the V-sign as he legged it back towards the main building. He was in his element!

* * *

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