“Live Aid was incredible!” William said to Susan.
“Absolutely unbelievable. I’ve never seen anything like it. Most memorable day of my life,” Thomas agreed, with a hint of sadness.
“Don’t worry, there’ll be others!” Susan said comfortingly.
“Not like that. Not at Wembley. All the top bands were there. Queen, U2, Bowie, Zeppelin, Dire Straits, The Who!” replied Thomas, thrusting a finger in the air as he said each name.
“It was quite a line-up, all right,” admitted Susan.
“Not to mention Paul McCartney, Elton John, Wham!, Phil Collins, Sting, Madonna…” Thomas went on.
“Yeah, it was pretty memorable,” sighed Susan. “Still, I’m surprised you remember anything with the amount you drank.”
“Music just sounds better with a couple of pints in you,” Thomas retorted. “When I’m tipsy I feel the vibes all through my body, like it’s a part of me.”
“Like when you chundered right in front of the stage? You almost got some on Freddie Mercury’s shoes! Such an embarrassment!” tutted Susan.
“Doesn’t take much to embarrass you though, does it love? Besides, Freddie’s the biggest cokehead out there – I bet he took it as a compliment! An homage, if you will. Right, Will?”
“No doubt, no doubt. Right, so what are we doing?”
The three friends walked into Thomas’ apartment. William picked up the guitar and began playing a Led Zeppelin tune. Stairway to Heaven was the greatest song ever written, and his favourite to play. Thomas pulled a couple of cans of Carlsberg from the fridge. They were ice-cold. He chucked one to Susan, who cracked into it eagerly. It had been a hot summer. Today was Sunday, and the AIDS concert held the day before had been spectacular. The three friends were still wading through their emotions from the day, and for now they could not bring themselves to say or hear any more about it. They could still feel the vibrations of the stage, still hear the sounds of the instruments ringing in their ears. When would the next concert be? Could any rock star top Freddie Mercury’s performance? “Impossible!” Susan insisted. Queen would always be her favourite group. Thomas argued the case for U2, as Susan lay back on the sofa and opened another can. William began playing Babe, I’m Going To Leave You by Led Zeppelin. Thomas shouted: “Can you play something by U2?”
“What should we do now?” asked Susan. Out of the corner of her eye she spied a plastic condom wrapper peeking out of her leather handbag. They’d been handed out a dozen each at the concert. These were strange times, and dark days for rock’n’roll stars. He pulled her bag toward her and ripped open the wrapper. She slipped her hand absent-mindedly into the pink latex. “Jesus, that’s disgusting!” cried William. “Did nobody ever show you how to use one of those?” Tomas added. But Susan went on stretching the latex between her fingers like a ball of bubble gum. She hadn’t chewed gum in a while. She liked to let it sit on her tongue so the flavour could dissolve before she chewed. Thomas opened a bottle of whiskey – “Hair of the dog,” he called it. He had a ferocious hangover, and sadly there was no ice in his freezer. He drank a swig and picked up the guitar again, suddenly feeling melancholic. He wondered if Susan fancied him. He could feel her eyes on his naked torso, and he smiled.
Alan Alfredo Geday
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