I laugh.
"We are live from Heaton Park in Manchester covering The Hush Society Presents, a benefit music festival that celebrates the end of their nationwide summer tour."
"The proceeds of today’s show goes to fund a non-profit organisation called Ear for Music—a program to help budding musicians," Judy says. "In case you’ve just tuned in, we’d been swapping new music with Callum during the break and his choices are quite the stuff you’d like to keep your ears sharp with."
Callum laughs in the background.
"One notable music recommendation," she continues, "is a band whose lead singer was a former URadio DJ!"
"No way," Callum says. "Cameron was a DJ?"
I curse at the incredulity.
"So!" Judy continues, "there’s this new indie band called The Fortunate Only. One of the members is Cameron Evans. Yes, URadio’s Cameron Evans. If you’ve been listening to us for the past year, you’d know he was one of our DJs."
"He’s super cool, and I’m not saying that ‘cause I’m biased," Nate says. "Okay, I may be biased."
Callum and Judy crack up. I look up at Dad, who grins ear to ear and I can’t help but smile.
"I, on the other hand, screen our music selection with more objectivity than others," Judy says, giving the words right back to Nate. "But I love their sound—not just because I know this band personally—but Callum seems to think so, too."
I curse again, still in disbelief. "No way!" Part of me knew that Callum liked our music judging by his reaction during our jam session at Willowfields, but to have him say it on radio is a whole other level.
"Judy’s right. I heard his single on your station, and then, had an opportunity to play a few songs—a short jam session—with him and his mates at Willowfields. They’re definitely talented. I’m excited to see them grow."
Judy squeals and Nate cheers on. "They jammed with you?" Judy repeats. "I can’t believe he hasn’t told us about it."
"It’s amazing how they use music to help others," Callum says. "And that they, together with a few people from The Hush Society, are starting a non-profit centred around this sort of thing. More bands need to use their music as an outlet for positivity. If you’re in Manchester today, they’ll be performing tonight at the festival in Heaton Park."
"That’s right," Nate confirms.
"We haven’t seen them yet." Judy says. I wonder if Nate and Judy know what’s going on. I haven’t been in touch with anyone since I got back to Beverley.
Dad clicks the pause button. "Are you going to play or what?"
#
It’s been half an hour according to the clock on the wall. Still no sign of Benji or Eric. In my excitement, I left my mobile at home. So I have no way of contacting my mates to let them know I’m here, or that they should bring their gear because we are playing the benefit gig.
I am a fool.
A massive fool.
I let my envy and resentment make me a narrow-sighted, negative git.
The only item I have in my hands is the ticket to Manchester that leaves in twenty-one minutes. I’ve gone around the train station twice and still no sign of them.
Seventeen minutes.
"Cameron?" Benji’s voice booms before I spot them.
"The wanker changed his mind," Eric says, running to me. "I knew it!"
I jump up and meet them halfway. "I am a right foul git with an ego the size of the moon," I say. Eric crashes into me and jumps up and down.
"The galaxy," Eric says. Benji rolls his eyes. "Apology accepted."
"Glad to have you back, mate." Benji pats my shoulder.
"Tonight might have been our last gig, but I only want it to be the continuation of The Fortunate Only," I say. "Will you lads still play with me?"
"Of course," Benji and Eric say in unison.
"Like you had to ask!" Eric rolls his eyes, still bouncing with excitement.
"We really thought you’d abandoned us," Eric says dramatically. "Leave us to the dust…Show up without you to a stressed out Cassie and tell her we can’t play because The Fortunate Only’s singer isn't showing up."
"Oh, sod it," Benji says and we laugh.
I search for gear.
"We’re borrowing," Benji explains, seeing my eyes wander. "I mean, if you’re still going to play."
"Of course," I respond. I am pretty knackered, but it’s as if I’d necked a couple of shots of espresso. I’ll be all right. I think.
"Oi!" Eric chastises. "Do not jinx it. We’re lucky to have you back."
"You sure Cassie will let us play?" I ask, as we walk to the right platform. "She probably hates me."
"She’s been ringing me non-stop to confirm if we’re still playing," Benji says. "Now I can say yes." He whips out his mobile and fires her a message.
"She has?" I raise my voice. "I’ve been ringing her for ages and she hasn’t returned my calls."
"I wonder why," Benji says, deadpan.
"If you were in her position, would you really want to start your first conversation since Willowfields with ‘are you still playing at the benefit music festival?’" Eric points out.
"Guess not," I say. "But I’m going to make her talk to me if it’s the last thing I do… after we play our set."
The train comes to a halt in front of us.
"What made you change your mind?" Benji asks as we settle into our seats.
"I bet it’s Cassie." Eric is smug. "It’s always about a girl."
"Not this time, mate," I say and borrow Cassie’s words. "The music called me home."
After we take our seats, I tell them about how my Dad was the one who changed my mind because of what Callum Ford said. I give them the general gist of Callum Ford’s interview as I load up URadio’s site and hand Benji back his mobile.
"Callum Ford said what?" Eric shouts. Nearby passengers shush us.
"Hear for yourselves. Go on," I say.
Benji needs no further encouragement. His fingers do their job as he presses play.
Eric scrambles to pull out his earphones and plugs it to Benji’s mobile. He offers me the other side.
