Oxygen (Catfish And The Bottlemen/1975)

Alice

The next two weeks saw some interesting moments captured on my film camera, mostly drunken dancing and sleepy stoned smiles. I'd taken one or two of the crowds and a lot of Van and the lads during their sets.

Every few stops I'd take a trip into town to get the film developed and Fliss and Saff would always insist upon seeing them. They'd take their pick of the photos and beg me to let them keep them, and of course I always let them get what they wanted.

I had expected them to follow me into town, but today I was alone. Fliss had shrunk into herself a little since the night we'd gotten stoned and she'd followed andy into the back room.

She was taking more drugs than she had ever done before, at least more than I'd seen her do since freshers. Jazz and Rudy weren't even here to encourage her but whenever I saw her she was pinging or pranging out, or chain smoking on the steps of a venue fire escape.

There were photos on this roll of film where her eyes were so dark, black pupils, delerium, her nose a little runny as she smiled into the lens like Richie Edwards. She was lucky she had the face for it, the messy hair and the petit frame, she was lucky she was more Kate Moss than Pete.

I sat swinging my legs on a red velvet stool waiting for them to develop my film, thinking about what I'd do when I got back to the bus. I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to go straight back to the bus.

Things had been different since we had come on this tour, things had been strange. The last night things had felt normal was the night I'd spent with Rudy and Jazz after the last festival, the night Fliss had wound up in Lennon Gallaghers hotel room, intoxicated on instagram.

Thats the last night I remembered seeing her gleaming through. Now she sparkled on the surface with a strange darkness chewing her cheeks and her finger tips. She was getting thinner and ethereal and when I looked at her singing on the stage she seemed distant, like I was watching her on my television screen.

"Hello?" I asked, I think my phone had been buzzing on the side for awhile.

"Alright allypally?" I recognised the smile in Larrys voice wondered who had abandoned him in order for him to have phoned me.

"Whats the craic larry lau?" I yawned, leaning on my elbows as I watched a silent television screen, Donald Trump had said something again, the world was enraged.

"Where are yous?" He asked, "I got back to the bus an everyone's gone?"

"Im in town, getting me camera sorted... but im on my own," I said gazing out the window, wondering where the others would be. I reached into my back pocket for a cigarette, my fingers curling around a little baggy of something else instead. "Interesting," I mumbled.

"What?" Asked Larry, he was still on the phone.

"Sorry, uh have they not left a note or somet?"

"No, nothing..."

"Are you sure?" I smirked, "fliss is pretty creative when it comes to notes..."

"Theres nowt I promise, when are you coming back?"

"Almost sounds like you like my company," I teased with a smirk.

"Oh well I wouldnt go that far..." he chuckled.

"You know you could come to me for once, im not your call girl afterall,"

"Nah thats Van," he grinned, and with that our dry conversation shrivelled to nothing and half an hour later we were sitting side by side in two poor chic arm chairs, fancy coctails in hand, day drinking as we looked over the photos I'd picked up.