Portia MacIntosh - How Not To Be Starstruck

Running down the steps to platform sixteen I hear the all-too-familiar whistle, the one that means the train doors are about to close and I’m about to miss my train. Before I know what I’m doing, I am diving through the closing doors, landing upright and still holding my things as the doors shut behind me. The train is absolutely packed and all the people standing in the doorway cheer and applaud my James Bond-style manoeuvre. That is probably the most energetic thing I have done in a long time, so I smile and curtsy for my audience before composing myself and trying to find my phone. This is one of those moments in life that is totally Twitter-worthy, in fact I think Twitter was designed with moments like this in mind.

Impressed with myself, I wonder how I managed to move so gracefully with my big bag and, of course, it is then that I realise I have left my big bag at home. This means that I have no clean clothes, no hairbrush and, worst of all, no pretty shoes. Shit. It’s too late to do anything about it now, I’ll just have to try and manage. I’ve survived on low-budget tours, sleeping in the back of dirty old vans and trying to make my face of make-up last for more than one day – I’ll be fine. I’m touring with Two For The Road, they have a big, glamorous tour bus and we’ll be staying in a few hotels. I guess I’ll have to buy some new clothes, but that is hardly an idea I am against.

About an hour later, the train pulls into Manchester Piccadilly station and I hop off far less gracefully than I got on. My friend, Gemma, is stood waiting for me. She’s a huge Two For The Road fan and I remember exactly what it’s like to be a fan, desperate to meet the band, so I told her that if she wanted to come along I would introduce her.

‘Are you excited about tonight?’ I ask.

‘I am so, so nervous. I don’t know how you keep your cool being friends with all these bands! Just promise to introduce me to Eddie.’

She does look nervous, bless her. I remember when I was nervous.

Eddie is the lead singer of TFTR and like every front-man ever, he is gorgeous, charming and as shallow as a puddle.

I resist telling Gemma about Luke – it’s not that I don’t trust her, I’m just worried. What if he acts like we never had that conversation? What if he was just drunk? I am not going to make a fool of myself tonight, although I’m not sure how easy that is going to be as I do plan on getting a little bit drunk.

Finally outside the venue, a big, scary-looking doorman ticks our names off the guest list. I can hear the music from out here, it’s Two For The Road. I told you that I was going to be very late.

Our first stop is the bar and it’s only as we’re ordering our drinks that I realise I am probably just as nervous as Gemma is tonight. It has been such a long time since I felt nervous about meeting a band, and I know these guys so well, but this Luke stuff is having a strange effect on me. I’ve always kept my crush on him under wraps, but now that he might actually fancy me back, everything is different. Oh God, I’m sounding like a schoolgirl again.

Armed with our drinks, we make our way towards the stage where the show is already in full swing. Eddie, the singer, is upfront and smack bang in the middle. He’s very typically good-looking (think Alex Pettyfer, but brunette) and he really knows how to work the crowd. The only time he isn’t surrounded by a crowd of girls is when he’s on stage. He has his shirt fully unbuttoned, like he’s in Whitesnake (circa 1980s) or something, and a guitar hanging off his body which I don’t think I have ever seen him play, that’s Ben’s job. Ben is the lead guitarist, but he’s probably the shyest member of the band. I’m not sure how old he is, but he can’t be more than twenty. He’s a new addition to TFTR (after their original guitarist walked) and hasn’t quite acquired the same level of cockiness as the rest of them, but given time I’m sure he will. Then we have the bassist, Mark. Mark is probably the one I get on with the least because he’s taken that cheeky cockiness that makes Eddie and Luke so likeable and mutated it into full-blown arrogance. Even before they were famous, you could tell he thought he was the shit. He’s never been anything but nice to me though, so I can’t complain, but there is something very unattractive about a man who thinks that he is God’s gift to women. In reality he’s a bit chubbier than the rest of the guys, his short blonde hair always looks like it needs a good wash and I wish he would have a shave – I am not a big fan of beards at the best of times, but his definitely has to go. As I’m staring at him, I catch his eye and he gives me a wink, so I give him a smile in return. Then I look at Luke, he’s sitting behind the drums with his shirt off, sweat literally dripping off him as he bangs away on his kit with real enthusiasm. I get that feeling again, that pang of something in my chest. I think my heart just skipped a beat – how lame is that?

We’ve managed to push our way to the front of the crowd – at Gemma’s request, I’d be happier blending into the background and pretending I’m important. As their song comes to an end, Eddie chats to his audience. I look over at Luke who is downing a bottle of water and the moment he stops drinking, he spots me. Standing up behind his drum kit and grabbing his microphone off the stand, he interrupts Eddie.

‘Nicole Wilde, I see you! Guys, we’ve got a very special lady in tonight, huge shout-out to Nicole from Starstruck . She’s touring with us and we want her to write nice things, so if you see her at the bar then buy her a drink!’ And with that, he returns the mic to its rightful place and sits back down behind his drums.

‘This one is for you, Nicole!’ Eddie shouts as he bursts into their next song. I am both smug and embarrassed in equal measure. Shout-outs are great, but embarrassing, and because it was from Luke I can feel my cheeks flushing. I’m hoping people will assume it’s because it’s warm in here.

The guys put on one hell of a show and, before I know it, they’re about to play their final song of the night.

‘So, this is our last song, guys.’ Eddie stops talking to swig his beer, his audience will wait. ‘Thank you so much for coming. We’re going to party here for a while afterwards so come and say hello, and then we’re going to a club. Where’s cool in Manchester?’ he asks in the faux-American twang he picked up somewhere along the way – I’m not sure where, he’s a Londoner. His question is met by a series of shouted-out suggestions from the happy crowd, none of which are audible.

After they play their final song and go off stage, the nerves really hit me. I’m going to have to have an actual conversation with Luke, and I can’t hide behind a Skype window while I think of cool and clever responses. I am so worried he’ll bring up the other night, but I’m even more worried that he won’t mention it at all.

After a quick trip to the bar for more drinks, I am chatting with Gemma when Eddie and Mark come over to say hello. Like the good friend that I am, the first thing I do is introduce Gemma to them, and if she is nervous then she isn’t letting it show because she is so cool. As the four of us chat, I feel two hands on my waist and my heart jumps into my mouth because I know who it is. I spin around in his gentle grip to see a slightly sweaty and unfortunately fully clothed Luke Fox. He pulls me closer for a hug and plants a kiss on my cheek.

‘Well hello, Miss Wilde,’ he says, with the usual slightly flirtatious tone to his voice.

‘Hello, Mr Fox,’ I reply – how very smooth of me.

Oh shit, is this awkward? Someone needs to say something.

‘You guys were awesome tonight,’ I tell him as the rest of the gang go back to their conversation.