Rising star Sam Fender and rock n roll icon Liam Gallagher meet for a gig. Sam, 25 and having just released his first album, takes the opportunity to learn as much as he can from the legend that is LG.
But things start to get complicated when Liam's...
The drinking goes pretty smoothly, but we're all mortal. At least no one's thrown up or passed out. Yet. Even Cass started on the booze. Being the only sober person at a table full of clattered blokes is awful. I've been there, done that, and got sick on my shoes to prove it, so I really can't blame her. Seeing as I bought the first round of drinks, I haven't had to spend anymore. Still, I'm 40 quid down. Bloody London, man.
"Anyone for darts?" Joe, being the atmosphere merchant that he is, slurs. "Or pool?"
Drew smirks, "I cannit see straight man, let alone shoot straight."
Under his breath, Joe mutters, "Fucking lightweights."
Then, the last person I expected to speak pipes up, "I'll give you a game, Joe."
He smiles like a proper moron at Cass who's already on her feet by the dartboard. Joe's a lot less agile and staggers his way over to join her. This is going to end in tears. And possibly another trip to hospital.
"Howay then," He says. "Ladies first."
I notice Liam smirking, and there's a part of me that hopes Joe gets absolutely annihilated. Actually, it's more like all of me. Joe's great, and I've known him for years, but he's insufferable if he wins anything. Even a game of Monopoly. This is why band game nights are the highlight and the worst part of my week at the same time. The first fight is usually over who gets to play as the toon, and who has to choose another team. It gets progressively more violent as the beer flows and often ends with a controller being thrown at someone's head. But it's a right laugh.
Cass looks back over her shoulder at me, before taking her stance and throwing the first dart. It lands bang in the middle of treble twenty, the highest score on the board. The group of us clap and whistle, except for Joe, who groans and shakes his head. The tears I expected are going to be his if she carries on like this.
Grinning, she throws the second dart, which also lands in treble twenty.
"Go on lass," Dean cheers. We're all rooting for Cass now, hence the look of betrayal in Joe's eyes. "Sorry mate, but she's gonna destroy you."
The third and final dart is ready to be thrown. If it goes the same way as the others, then Cass will have scored the unbeatable 180. God, I hope it does.
Cass brings her arm back, squints and closes one eye, studying the board, and releases the dart. It sounds stupid, but I can barely bring myself to look. With a dull thud, it sticks in the board.
My gaze finds the dart. Bullseye. It's not a perfect score, but it's bloody close. Somehow, a bullseye is more impressive than treble twenty, despite the latter being worth more points. Especially when it's as dead centre as Cass has managed to get it. This girl knows what she's doing.
"170," She states, smiling innocently at Joe. "Your turn."
Joe, who's now as pale as a sheet, gulps and plucks the darts from the board. Cass sits back down next to me, in Joe's seat, and watches with intent as he shakily readies himself.
I nudge her, "His sober personal best is 120, and that was mostly luck. There's no way he's getting more than you when he's pissed out of his mind. Although it doesn't make much difference."
She smirks a little, "What about you? Reckon you can beat me?"
"Not tonight, darling." I pinch the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache starting "Maybe some other time though."
"I'll hold you to that," Cass smiles. It fades pretty quickly though, when she looks back at me, "You okay?"
"Aye, canny," I reply, lying through my teeth. "Don't worry about me, love."
She nods, not quite believing me, and starts scrolling through her phone. I pull mine out of my pocket and go on Instagram
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cass_gallagher So.... new friends? *insert Inbetweeners reference here*
