NOTE: All characters and terms including boy and lad refer to people age 18 and over.
They’d been playing at The Barley Mow for about eight months. Every first Thursday in the month they played. They’d got themselves quite a big following. They were an Indie band and attracted the usual Indie-type kids. They were really good, better than all that shit you get on The X Factor. There were four members in the band and they were all good-looking. But I had my eye on the lead singer. He was fit as fuck - slim, fresh-faced, dark hair flopping down over his eyes. And it was so horny the way he played his rhythm guitar, so suggestive. He played it like he was playing with his cock. Simulated the act of masturbation all the time, the horny bastard. And he was gorgeous. His name was Matt.
The last two or three gigs, he’d spent more and more time looking at me whilst he was singing. The last gig he hardly took his eyes off me during a couple of the songs. Made me feel dead special like. I mean, there were a lot of fit lads in the audience yet he picked me out.
The band finished their gig and fifteen minutes later this guy came up to me - he must have been their manager or something - he came up to me and he told me that Matt wanted to see me in the dressing room. I was shocked. Matt, the lead singer of the group I’d been watching for the last few months, Matt who I’d drooled over as he played his guitar like he was having a wank. He wanted to see me!
My heart was racing but I managed to control my breathing. I followed the guy into the dressing room. Matt was chilling out over a bottle of lager.
“Hi, mate,” he said offering his hand.
I shook his hand.
“See you tomorrow, Matt,” the guy said.
Then just before he left he gave Matt a wink and said, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Matt told me to sit down and make myself at home. I sat down in the chair next to him. There was a gorgeous smell of sweat in the tiny dressing room. He offered me a ciggie.
“Don’t smoke, mate.”
He was gonna light one himself but he put it away.
“Terrible habit. So, did you enjoy the show?”
“I always enjoy it. You were great. I loved your version of Yellow.”
“Coldplay fan, are you?”
“I like all Indie music. Coldplay, Dandy Warhols, Doves…”
“A man of good taste.”
“That’s why I come to see you guys.”
“I’ve seen you in the audience a few times, mate.”
“Yeah, been to a few of your gigs.”
“So we’ve got ourselves a fan, have we?”
He offered his hand.
We shook hands.
“Your Matt, the guitarist is called James, the bass player Kyle, and the drummer Stevie.”
“Fuck me, mate. You really are a fan.”
“Told you. I think you’re really good.”
“So you really like our music then?”
“Yeah. It’s cool. Love your own songs.”
“I think you’re great. I think the band’s great but I love your voice.”
“Stop it. You’re embarrassing me now.”
The thing is, I really was embarrassing him. He went red and he looked proper sweet and dead vulnerable when he blushed. I wouldn’t have expected him to blush coz he was dead confident when he was on stage. But I suppose a lot of pop singers are proper shy really. It’s all an act when they’re on stage, innit? I liked seeing him like this, all shy and vulnerable. It was well sweet.
He opened a couple of bottles of lager, gave me one.
This was nice, having a drink with Matt the lead singer in his dressing room.
“The other lads have gone home,” he said. “There’s just me left.”
“How come you’ve not gone with your mates?”
“Coz I’m here with you.”
Oh fuck. I had to control my breathing. I took a swig of my lager. Why was I feeling dead nervous. I was like a kid for fuck’s sake.
Matt took a swig of his lager, all the time making eye contact with me. Was it me or was he drinking that bottle in a suggestive manner?
“So…sorry, I don’t know your name.”
“Cheers. That means a lot.”
“You should do more of your own songs”
“Yeah, well the well known songs always get a better response so we tend to do a lot of covers.”
“And you do ‘em really well.”
“Will you stop saying good things. My head’s gonna be fucking massive.”
I was proper enjoying this little chat with Matt the lead singer. It was really cozy. He was dead easy to get on with. I’d only been chatting away for five minutes with him and it was like I’d known him all my life. He made me feel dead relaxed. Like I said, I was a bit nervous at first but now it was like we were best mates.
I’d told him that I loved his music coz I really did. I wasn’t just saying it to be like sycophantic or nothing. I really did love their music but what I really wanted to tell him was that I fancied him like fuck and had dreamt about having sex with him. Coz I did fancy him like fuck and I had dreamt about having sex with him. I even thought about having sex with him whilst I watched him performing on stage, especially when I saw him playing his guitar in that proper sexy way. I thought about him being naked and playing with his dick every time he got on stage and played that guitar in that suggestive way.
He turned his smile into a massive grin.
“You don’t wanna scare ‘em away, mate.”
He brought his chair right up to mine and leaned forward.
“Can I tell you something?”
“You’re the best-looking fan by far.”
Oh my God!
Then from out of the blue he said, “I’ve seen the way you look at me when I’m on stage.”
Now it was my turn to go bright red.
I tried to change the subject.
“You must have had loadsa girls, with you being in a band like.”
“James is the one who has all the girls.”
“No way, mate. You’re far better looking.”
I wouldn’t have thought it possible for him to look even more beautiful but he did when he smiled.
“Kyle, he gets a lot of birds as well. And Stevie.”
“Yeah. Why? Why do you say it like that?”
“Well Stevie’s not exactly the best looking boy in the band, is he?”
“Who’s the best looking then?”
“You are…by a mile.”
I didn’t care that I was blushing now.
He smiled again.
“You should smile more when you’re on stage. You look dead sweet when you smile. That’d drive the girls crazy, that smile would.”
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