Chapter 1
Chapter
One
SCRATCH AND SNIFF
Neve
“Come on Neve, you’re on stage in 5 minutes!” Reg the bar owner calls from the ladies bathroom door.
“Reg, I’ve told you before, you cannot rush me!” I yell back before leaning into the cracked and dirty bathroom mirror to add yet another layer of mascara.
I stand back and look at myself; my smoky eyes, my mass of hair falling in waves, my tiny black dress showing a hint of my red bra.
I sigh. “It’s just the beginning Neve, we all have to start somewhere,” I remind myself in the mirror.
I shut down my thoughts before I can think about how I’ve been doing the same gig for the past 18 months.
How if it wasn’t for Reg hiring me to entertain in his bar each week, I would be homeless.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome on stage our girl, our little popstar. That’s right, she made it all the way to boot camp on Popstar Superstar. Please give her a big hand.”
“I’d give her more than that,” a deep voice heckles.
“John, you’re not big and you ain’t clever, so keep your comments to yourself and while you’re at it you can keep it in your pants, too. If what your ex-wife says is true, you actually have very little to give,” Reg snaps back into the microphone.
I roll my eyes. “Jesus Christ Reg,” I mutter.
“Where was I? Oh yes, the fabulous Neve!” Loud music starts and I take a deep breath and open the door and strut out onto the stage. I smile and wave as I pick up the microphone. I look out across the pub and see the same few faces scattered about. The only one clapping is dirty Jon.
“Thanks for having me here tonight. I thought I would really get the party going as it’s a Saturday night.” The music for Tina Turner’s Proud Mary starts up. I start singing and dancing around as best I can on a small stage that is less than 6-feet in size.
The entire gig I sing and perform as if I was performing at Wembley or the O2 arena. I will forever give it my all as you never knew who could walk in and be your ticket to the big time. Even in the Golden Lion in Hounslow, you just never know.
After performing five songs I take a break and head to the bar for a drink. “Usual please, Reg,” I pant.
“Let me get that,” a deep voice says beside me.
I don’t even bother turning to face him. “Thanks, but no thanks,” I answer, taking my water and walking away to sit at my table in the corner of the pub.
I flick through my phone, looking through social media, seeing people from school post pictures that are utter bullshit.
The look how happy we are posts, with my amazing career and my 6-bedroom house.
I wish there was a bullshit button, I would click that all day long.
I mean, where are the honest posts? The posts that say I ate a fat kebab last night, I wasn’t even drunk and it’s the third takeaway I’ve ordered this week.
Or when people with kids post about their perfect children, yeah well, we ain’t buying that shit Brenda.
The neighbours have seen your recycling bin, the 3 bottles of pinot?
Yeah, we know your little angels are little shits, and your pinot is the only thing helping you to relax on an evening while you get five minutes of peace.
And that’s okay, because that is life and kids are evil!
“So who are you trying to hide from?” a deep voice asks.
I don’t look up from my phone. “Who says I am hiding? Maybe I’m just avoiding people,” I state before taking a sip of my drink, still not looking up at him.
I feel the bench sink where he sits next to me and I sigh and roll my eyes. I still keep focused on my phone. I get enough guys who after a few pints think it is okay to try and chat me up or grab my arse.
“Well, I suppose I never thought of the fact you could be avoiding people. So who are you avoiding?” he asks. “Could it be the guy who I believe is sat there now scratching his under arm and I think he’s about to –”
“Sniff it? Yeah, that’s Tim. Give him another pint or two and he will start scratching and sniffing other parts of his body,” I mumble while still scrolling through my phone, doing my best to try and ignore the guy sat next to me.
“Wow, now I’m not sure what to watch; you back on stage or wait and see what Tim scratches and sniffs next.” He laughs. “Okay… What about the guy with his wife?” he asks.
“That’s Walter and Julie, they are not married, well to each other at least. Julie is married to Walter’s brother and Walter is married to Julie’s best friend,” I state.
“Wow, okay, well what about the guy in the leather jacket with the worn jeans, blonde hair that could use a decent cut, and I think a contagious smile?” he asks.
I frown and look up around the bar. “There isn’t anyone that comes in here like tha –” My words die in my throat as I look to the right of me and see the guy sat next to me. “You,” I state.
He smiles and he’s right, he does have a nice smile. “And finally, she sees me,” he mocks with heartbreak.
I laugh. “So are you going to introduce yourself or am I supposed to guess?”
He sits back. “Hhhm.” He taps his chin. “Now there’s a decision, tell her my name or keep the mystery going?” He pauses. “I think I’m going to let you guess. Have at it,” he gestures before he sits back, giving me a wink.
I smile and shamelessly use this opportunity to look him up and down. He is no doubt my kind of guy. He clearly works out and those eyes and that smile. Damn. I lick my lower lip, looking up at him. I don’t miss how his gaze drops to my mouth.
“I’m going to guess your name is Burt,” I tease.
“Now come on, you know that things that look this good don’t come with a name like Burt.” He winks.
Normally that kind of arrogance would put me off a guy, but with him it works.
“Fine, how about Steven?” I guess. He raises a brow. “Fine, Brody or Troy?” I ask.
“Jesus sweetheart, I ain’t from fucking High School Musical.” He smirks.
“Well, I don’t bloody know. Why don’t you just tell me?” I shrug.
“Now, where is the fun in that?” he quips.
“Neve, you’re up in 5,” Reg states. He looks to the mystery man. “He bothering you?” Reg asks.
“He’s fine, Reg, no need to throw his arse out,” I say standing and patting Reg’s chest. “Yet,” I add as I walk off towards the stage.