Invitation Only

Finally! Exams are over and we're heading into the abyss that is our 12 week summer holiday. Booze, drugs and concerts. For my birthday, my best friend Zoe had bought us both concert tickets to our favourite band Threedust, so we could see our future husband Mr Christopher Adams in the flesh. The sexy, gorgeous, indescribable flesh.

It's the day of the concert, we're in my room getting ready whilst drinking cocktails and learning the songs. As we doll ourselves up, we start to imagine how he'll look, what he'll wear, and whether he'll even notice us.

Arriving into the stadium, we see the overwhelming population, and ask ourselves there reason for being here, are they metal heads or do they just find Christoper Adams extremely handsome? We find our seats and unbeknownst to us, we're at the front. The fucking front. In front of Christopher.

Remember the overwhelming population from before? Well we're now giving them a piggyback and it's all becoming a tad bit claustrophobic, but that's okay because Christopher is standing 4 foot away from us, he's literally in touching distance. If i could just jump over his 10 foot tall security guard i'd be right there next to him.

I look over at Zoe, and she looks like a light surrounded by moths. I start to realise how dangerous this whole concert thing actually is, meaning i start to overthink, and when i overthink i start to panic...

Black

As my eyelids flutter open, i see a worried Zoe stood over me. I look round and see sofas, mirrors, clothes and black liquorice rizla. I look over to the door, the gate to get out of this hell hole and see the words 'Mr C. Adams' stapled on the front of it. Oh no. Oh god no. No fucking way has this happened! What a great first im-fucking-pression Harper, oh you have exceeded yourself.

She hands me a bottle of water and i sit up, and ask her what the fucking fuck in gods name has just happened, and why the hell are we in Christopher Adams' dressing room. She tells me what happens and i just want the earth to swallow me whole. I know i'm going to have to face him soon enough so i go over to his mirror and try and salvage what's left of my makeup and improve the car crash that is me.

Well soon enough came. I'm stood here infront of my future husband while he comforts me. I should be enjoying this, why am i not enjoying this? What the fuck is wrong with me? All i can think about is the humiliation. But turns out he doesn't care. He puts both arms round me and Zoe and walks us out of the venue into the cold, sinister streets. I ask him what time it is and he tells me it's 11:30pm. A face of utter shock comes upon me and Zoe, whilst Christopher's face is a look of utter confusion.

We tell him "Christopher, we should have been home at 10pm, and at this rate we'll get home at 2am. My mum is gonna fucking kill me...".

He asks "where do you guys live, i can give you a lift home? or you girls could crash at my place for the night, it's only 20 minutes away. Tell your parents you're staying at a friends."

He follows with "You girls are over 18 right?"

We nod and reply, "Christopher you don't have to do that, we can get a taxi or rent a hot-"

"Oh no", he said "I can't let two young girls roam the streets of London alone, what kinda guy do you think i am?"

We agree to go back with him, the whole way back to his hotel he plays us music that he likes and you can just see how moved he is by it, and how much it inspires him. I look over to Zoe and give her a 'what the fuck is happening' look she smiles and responds with 'i know'.

How the fuck has this happened, we started the day wondering if he'd even notice us, or if i'd even get a glimpse of him over his 10 foot tall security guard, and now i'm in the back of his car, staring into the back of his head thinking 'jesus, even the back of his head is fucking sexy'.

The night is what you'd imagine it to be; rolling cigarettes, drinking wine and listening to music. Before we go to sleep, he hands us a shirt and gives us both a hug. I think both Zoe and I can agree, this man is gods gift to women, he's seriously hot, and generously kind.

We wake up in the morning and are greeted by Christopher's famous 10 foot security guard. He hands us a note and tells us to pack our things as he's driving us home. Me and Zoe run around aimlessly like two chickens scared shitless of the man watching us. We collect our stuff and ourselves and walk out with our heads held high.

We get back to my place and rip open the note, it read 'Hey girls, sorry i couldn't be there this morning, had to rush to Leeds for the next gig and the boys wouldn't let me wait. Thanks for a great night and here's my number if you ever need anything 07548265061. I'm in England for the next two weeks, so ring me. Your C.'

What the actual FUCK

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