When It Drops

by Alex Dyson

  CHAPTER 30

  The van was directed by various people in all types of fluoro to a drop-off area surrounded by temporary fencing. Nat was last out, and pulled the door shut behind him.

  Everyone waved as the Tarago drove away, except for Caleb, who was immediately overwhelmed by the scene. The noise was intoxicating: golf buggies, people and background cheers, all undercut by a vibration of bass through the ground.

  ‘Okay,’ said Rachel to the group. ‘Caleb and I need to pick up our lanyards – you guys wait here and we’ll be back in a sec.’

  Caleb and Rachel followed a raised wooden walkway alongside some white temporary offices.

  ‘Pretty cool, hey?’ Rachel said.

  Caleb nodded. ‘I’m just glad we made it.’

  ‘So that Damo guy in the car, that was Ella’s …?’

  ‘Boyfriend,’ Caleb finished.

  ‘Ouch.’

  They walked the rest of the way in silence to a door indicating they’d arrived at ARTIST LIAISON. They were surprised to see who was already inside.

  ‘But I just don’t understand how it can be mixed up. My pass should give me backstage access.’

  ‘I’m sorry, sir,’ said the woman behind the desk. ‘But until that has been authorised, you’ll have to wait in general admission.’

  ‘But Luke Dubz has authorised it! Don’t you know who he is?’

  ‘Apologies again, sir, but even if I did know who that was, he’s not part of the communications team and therefore can’t make alterations to accreditations. Now, if you wouldn’t mind stepping aside … Hello, how can I help you?’

  Jai Fordham turned around and saw Rachel and Caleb Clifford standing behind him. He looked like he was about to say something, but the shock of their presence had rendered him mute. Rachel, making a deliberate effort to ignore him, approached the desk.

  ‘Yes, we’re here to pick up passes for BVTTON. He’s playing today.’

  ‘Ah yes, our last-minute addition! I should have your passes here.’ She flicked through a box of yellow envelopes. ‘Love your song, by the way,’ she said, looking up at Caleb and smiling.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Caleb. Jai watched on, still tense and silent.

  ‘Ah, here we are!’ She pulled out an envelope. BVTTON x 7 was written on the front.

  Rachel grabbed it just as Jai snapped out of his muteness.

  ‘Hey, guys. How’s it going? Look, I feel really bad about what happened at the gig. Things got a bit out of hand. But yeah, anyway – do you reckon you could help me out here? They’re giving me a hard time.’

  Rachel stared blankly at Jai. He turned to the receptionist.

  ‘I’ve been helping BVTTON out since his song got released. These guys can vouch for me –’

  ‘Oh yeah,’ Rachel said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. ‘You’re that intern from TransAtlantic, right?’

  ‘Rachel –’

  ‘Actually, probably best not to let him in,’ Rachel said to the woman behind the desk. ‘I hear he punches children.’

  And with that, Caleb and Rachel left Jai to sort out his own mess.

  The pair returned to their crew. ‘Here we are, everyone!’ Rachel said, distributing the seven holographic lanyards with SPLENDOUR IN THE GRASS – ARTIST – BVTTON – AAA on them. From there, a security guard beckoned them into the backstage area.

  Caleb’s senses were at breaking point. This was definitely the coolest place he’d ever been. They walked along an astroturf carpet, past fire pits and coffee carts. People were everywhere: some in black with walkie-talkies on their belts, others in wild, glittery costumes. They reached a portable office with a sign on it that said ‘BVTTON’ in big letters. His own sign! With a deep breath, Caleb opened the door and stepped inside.

  Given the sensory overload of the area outside, it was something of a relief that the dressing room was so … plain. Caleb wasn’t expecting a chandelier and a spiral staircase or anything, but perhaps something more than a trestle table and three white plastic chairs. A mirror sat in the corner.

  ‘Dressing room? More like depressing room,’ said Nat as the group filed in.

  A man wearing a black hoodie poked his head through the door. ‘Hey guys, I’ve got your drinks.’

  It turned out he was one half of a duo carrying a giant esky, and the massive ice-filled tub turned out to be full of every (non-alcoholic) beverage under the sun.

  ‘We’ll be back with your food in a sec.’

  ‘Food?’ said Caleb.

  ‘Yeah, I had to tell them really quickly what we wanted,’ said Rachel. ‘I hope I did okay.’

  Considering it took two people to carry in the platter of food, Caleb suspected his sister had done more than okay. There were cheeses and grapes and olives and sundried tomatoes and mango and this weird white stuff with black dots in it that Rachel said was dragon fruit.

  Right when Caleb was about to tuck in, another person in a hoodie came to the door. ‘Is BVTTON here? I need to take him up for soundcheck, stat.’

  Caleb’s hand was hovering over an olive.

  ‘Yep, he’s here,’ said Rachel. ‘Come on, let’s go.’

  ‘Bye!’ everyone else in the room echoed, except Nat, who was already stuffing his face with breadsticks and dip.

  Caleb and his sister followed the unnamed man. ‘Yep, we have the performer, will be there soon,’ the man said into his walkie-talkie. They made their way to a dirt road, along which was parked a line of golf buggies. Caleb had not anticipated that riding in a golf buggy would be one of the perks of being a touring artist.

  ‘I’ve just got to get my stuff,’ said Caleb.

  ‘It’s all right, dude, we’ve already sent it over to the stage.’

  Woah – another perk.

  They climbed into the buggy, but as the engine fired up, a shout came from behind them.

  ‘Caleb!’

  Jake Townsend was stepping out of a white mini-van.

  ‘Hey!’ said Caleb enthusiastically. The golf buggy started to move. ‘Wait! Stop one second!’ The driver obliged.

  ‘You made it!’ Jake said, walking over to them.

  ‘Yeah!’ Caleb said with a grin. Here he was, backstage at his dream festival, all thanks to the very cool and very generous man standing before him. Caleb couldn’t find the words to express his gratitude, but tried anyway. ‘Thank you so much, Jake, for all of this. This is … just wild! Oh, you remember my sister, Rachel?’

  ‘Hi again, Jake!’ Rachel said, grinning beside him.

  Jake smiled and shook her hand. ‘Ah, of course, Rachel. Nice to see you again.’

  Rachel didn’t reply, but Caleb could all but see his sister metaphorically die on the inside.

  Jake put his hands on his hips. ‘So, how’re you feeling?’

  ‘Nervous,’ Caleb said. ‘I really doubt anyone is going to come watch me.’

  ‘Mate, you’ll be fine. Hey – did Ella end up coming? Rachel told me you invited her.’

  Caleb looked at Rachel. Rachel avoided eye contact.

  ‘Um, yeah, she’s here.’

  ‘And? Anything happening there?’

  ‘She’s here with her boyfriend,’ Rachel said matter-of-factly.

  ‘Ouch,’ said Jake.

  The buggy driver interrupted. ‘Sorry guys, but I’ve got instructions that we need to hurry.’

  ‘Sorry, Jake. Soundcheck,’ Caleb said as the engine revved. ‘Let’s play Tetris later, though!’

  ‘Ha, deal,’ replied Jake. ‘Have fun – I’ll be watching! Remember, just feel it!’ he called as they drove away.

  Caleb nodded. Jake’s words made him pay attention to the way the breeze hit his skin as the buggy wound through the backstage area, past parked utes and food vans with boxes strewn on the ground nearby. It was overwhelming and wonderful at the same time.

  Caleb turned to Rachel, who also seemed lost in thought. She looked back at him and smiled.

  ‘Crazy,’ she said.

  ‘Crazy,’ he
agreed.

  The golf buggy’s engine ground out a high, sustained note.

  ‘Hey! How was it? How’s the stage looking?’

  Caleb walked back into the dressing room after soundcheck and was greeted by Miralee and his mum.

  ‘Big. Scary.’

  Caleb could only talk in single words now. The backstage of the MixUp Tent was dark. It was noisy. A band called Pelican Feet had been on while Caleb had set up his gear, and his ears were still ringing. His laptop and sample pad were now sitting on a riser, ready to go, awaiting his return. They wouldn’t have to wait long. He only had twenty or so minutes before he had to get back in the golf buggy and head to the stage.

  Caleb’s stomach was feeling like it never had before. A cross between too empty and too full. He glanced at the spread of food and realised that even if he did want to eat, he would have trouble, because the incredible platter had been decimated.

  ‘Your brother ate most of it,’ said Miralee. ‘But I saved you some cheddar.’

  ‘Did someone say CHEDDR?’

  A thumping beat began just outside the open window, and into the room burst the unmistakable yellow headpiece of the world’s foremost cheese-headed EDM artist. Directly behind him was a man in a white tracksuit and white-framed glasses with a massive boom box on his shoulder.

  Miralee screamed. ‘Oh my god, CheddR!’

  Caleb just stood there; the intruders started dancing, then left as quickly as they had entered.

  ‘YOU JUST MET CHEESUS CHRIST, SUPERSTAR!’ were the final words out of the yellow head as he disappeared.

  ‘I can’t believe it was him!’ said Miralee. ‘I saw he was on the line-up, but I had no idea he would be so close.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Caleb said. ‘I wonder how long he was standing there waiting for us to mention cheese?’

  Caleb looked around. He hadn’t seen Ella since he’d returned from soundcheck. ‘Did you guys see where Ella went?’

  ‘I think she and Damo went to see Sweaty Junk on the main stage,’ his mum said. ‘They said they’d be back soon, though.’

  Caleb hoped Sweaty Junk was the name of a band. He also hoped they really would be back soon, because his set was approaching and it would be awesome to see Ella beforehand. Without Damo, if possible.

  ‘Come on, guys,’ said Rachel. ‘Caleb needs to get changed. Let’s give the man a minute.’

  Rachel ushered Miralee, Nat and Monica out, leaving Caleb alone in the blank, fluorescent-lit box. The deep bass of the main stage was pumping in the distance. A roar went up; someone had just walked out, and thousands of people were showing their appreciation by yelling at the top of their lungs.

  It sounded amazing.

  Caleb wasn’t sure how many people would turn up for his own gig, but he could guarantee it would be fewer than that.

  It took about twelve seconds for him to change into the plain black shirt with a white pocket that Rachel had bought him as a good luck/I don’t trust your dress sense present. Then he sat on one of the plastic chairs, going through the set in his head, until the door burst open.

  ‘Just came back to get more food,’ said Nat. ‘These marinated capsicum things are legit.’ Nat scooped up a treat and popped it in his mouth, all while twirling something around his finger.

  ‘What’s that?’ Caleb asked.

  ‘It’s a Splendour key ring.’ Nat pointed to a little pile of Splendour merch on the table.

  Caleb knew someone who needed a key ring. An idea formed in his mind. He could give it to Ella. Make an inside joke about it. Share a knowing glance when she realised he was finally putting a ring on it.

  ‘Can I have it?’ Caleb asked.

  ‘Why?’ Nat said, sensing Caleb’s eagerness.

  ‘I’m just … going to give it to someone.’

  ‘Who?’

  Caleb huffed. ‘Ella, okay?’

  Nat stopped twirling the key ring and shot his arm out, holding it away from Caleb. ‘So you still like her? Even though she’s got a boyfriend, who’s, like, much bigger than you?’

  ‘Maybe.’

  Nat held the key ring up high. He grinned a stupid grin.

  ‘So, do you actually like Ella, or do you like the idea of Ella?’ Caleb scoffed. ‘Can I just have it, please?’

  ‘Fine,’ Nat said, handing Caleb the key ring before returning to the food platter.

  Caleb sat on a chair in the corner and thought about Nat’s words. Well, technically they were his words that Nat had stolen, and they were now being used against him. This situation was definitely different to Nat smoking, though. He’d been in love with Ella for years. It was true he didn’t know her as well as he used to. Surely, once she realised Damo was a jerk, there was a chance that she would go for Caleb? Or did she like jerks now? Or was she a victim of Damo’s lies as well? Caleb was twiddling the key ring around his fingers, thinking, when his mum poked her head inside the dressing room.

  ‘Hello?’ she said. Then she held her hand to her mouth and burst into tears.

  Not now, he thought. He didn’t need this right before his performance –

  His mum barrelled into the room and wrapped him up in a cuddle. It was warm and tight and it was one of those hugs where the hugger rocks you back and forth a bit. It was overwhelming, and incredibly, incredibly nice.

  His mum finally released him and looked into his eyes. Caleb realised that her tears seemed different to the ones that had regularly fallen in the last twelve months. Actually, it wasn’t the tears that were different; it was the cheeks.

  His mum was smiling.

  ‘I’m just so proud of you, Button,’ she said, wrapping him in another hug. ‘And your dad would be proud too.’

  Caleb squeezed his mum back, hard. For a tiny moment, all thoughts of what he was about to do vanished. He was just a boy, in a room, being loved by his mum.

  And that was excellent.

  ‘I’m proud of you too, Champ. Come here.’

  ‘But –’

  Nathaniel’s protest wasn’t quick enough, and he was dragged away from the food spread and into the hug.

  The door opened. It was Rachel.

  ‘Hey, it’s time, I think we should –’ She looked up and spotted the Clifford huddle. ‘Are we doing hugs?!’ she exclaimed happily before throwing herself into the pile. And the four of them stood there embracing for a lovely second.

  ‘But seriously – we need to get up to the stage.’

  ‘Best of luck, Button,’ his mum said as the circle stepped back.

  Caleb smiled. ‘Thanks, Mum.’

  He walked to the door with Rachel, but then turned around.

  ‘Hey, Mum? Wanna go on a golf buggy?’

  They found Miralee talking to CheddR’s boom box assistant. After scooping her up, they jumped into a buggy. Miralee and Nat took the back, and Rachel and Monica climbed in the middle, leaving a spot up front for Caleb after he called shotgun. Caleb was about to get in when he spotted Ella and Damo milling next to a fire pit.

  ‘One sec,’ he said to the crew as he hurried over to the fire.

  He watched their silhouettes move in front of the flames. Damo smiling. Ella laughing. Then, right in front of him, the two of them kissing. At his show, with his tickets. And in that moment, Caleb’s mood changed entirely.

  His hate and love for Damo and Ella, respectively, had turned into an irrepressible indifference. He had more important things to worry about.

  ‘Oh hey, Caleb,’ said Ella, pulling away from Damo. Damo smirked when he realised Caleb had seen what they were doing.

  ‘Hey,’ Caleb said.

  ‘When are you on?’

  ‘Soon.’

  ‘Cool,’ Ella said. The three of them stood awkwardly for moment, the background sounds of music and the crackling of the fire filling the air.

  Until Caleb decided to break the quiet. Not just break it – shatter it.

  ‘So, Damo – still pouring your own piss on people?’

  Damo Dickson’s face
went taut. ‘Uh, what?’

  ‘What?’ Ella added.

  ‘I was just checking if you still enjoyed pouring urine on people. Or have you moved on to other things?’

  Caleb was on a roll. He didn’t care who knew anymore. It was behind him. He was playing goddamn Splendour in the goddamn Grass.

  ‘On my first day of school, Damo and his mates showed me the Riverview Golden Shower. I told you about that, didn’t I, Ella?’

  Ella looked shocked, then enraged. Damo looked like he’d seen a ghost.

  ‘I guess not,’ Caleb said.

  ‘Damo!’ Ella yelled. ‘That’s disgusting!’

  ‘I don’t … I don’t know what he’s talking about!’ Damo spluttered. ‘I …’

  Ella made a sound of disbelief.

  ‘Anyway – I’ve got to head up to the stage.’ Caleb said. ‘Catch you guys later.’

  Caleb turned and walked away, the argument raging in his wake almost as heated as the fire next to it. He smiled and got into the buggy.

  They arrived backstage at the MixUp Tent. The artist on before Caleb – an electronic act called Heresy – walked off to a bunch of cheers. She introduced herself to Caleb as she downed a bottle of water, a white towel draped around her shoulders. Caleb said he loved her music. She wished him the best of luck.

  Mum, Rachel, Nat and Miralee stood next to him. They all looked even more nervous than Caleb. Miralee, in particular, was in overdrive.

  ‘Oh my god, I cannot believe this is happening! I’m so excited for you Caleb, this is going to be incredible.’

  Rachel had an arm around their mum’s shoulder. They watched as people in black pants and black T-shirts frantically rolled stage equipment every which way. Caleb tapped his thighs, repeating his setlist over and over in his head. ‘Total Swarm’ first, ‘Ella’ last, the rest in between. Piece of cake.

  ‘Here, I got something for you,’ Miralee said, pulling a fistful of glowsticks from her handbag. ‘CheddR gave them to me. I thought you could throw them out during your set or something?’

  Caleb smiled. ‘Thanks, Miralee.’ He stashed them in his pocket and glanced at the clock on the wall.

  Six minutes to go.

  Even in his new, semi-confident state, Caleb could feel the prickle of nerves tugging at his neck. He shut his eyes and tilted his head back. He wasn’t religious, but he took a deep breath and thought of his dad looking down on him. Saying something encouraging. He tried to think of what it would be, but couldn’t quite grasp it. His dad’s words were just beyond his reach. Until, over the hum of the waiting crowd, a voice rang out.