Radio Silence

by Alice Oseman

  “Frances …” The nervousness in his voice was unmistakable. “If you give me a bad haircut, I’m probably going to run away to Wales and live there until my hair grows back.”

  “It’s fine!” I snipped the scissors in the air. “I’m arty. I got an A in my art AS.”

  Raine laughed from where she was sitting on Aled’s bed. “But you didn’t do hairdressing A level, did you?”

  I turned round and pointed the scissors at her. “But I would have if they’d offered it.”

  I cut Aled’s hair a few centimetres shorter – it was still past his ears, but not so long that it was flat and heavy – and I attempted to cut in a few layers so he didn’t look like a medieval squire. Overall it turned out pretty well, in my opinion, and Aled said it was better than anything he’d ever asked for at the hairdressers.

  Then we bleached his hair, which took ages and turned it a kind of yellowy-orange, which I thought was hilarious, and I took many photos on my phone.

  Once we’d done that, we dyed his hair pastel pink after he showed me a gif of some band member in a heavy denim jacket – longish, just longer than his chin, and a soft, muted pink. After it was finished, I realised it was exactly how Radio’s hair is described in Universe City.

  We had been driving for five minutes when Raine’s car broke down.

  She pulled over to the side of the road and sat very still for a moment, before asking, quite politely, “Is this an absolute joke?”

  “What do you do when you break down really far away from home?” I asked.

  “Isn’t there some breakdown company we can call?” asked Daniel.

  “I don’t know,” said Raine. “I’ve never broken down before.”

  We all got out of the car.

  “Who do you call?” I asked, and looked at Carys.

  “Don’t look at me. I may know how to pay my income tax, but I know nothing about cars. I live in London.”

  Daniel didn’t drive either, and obviously Aled and I didn’t. So we all just stood there.

  Carys sighed and reached into her pocket for her phone. “Let me Google it. Hang on.”

  “I need to get home,” said Daniel. “I’ve already missed three chemistry lessons and that shit is difficult to catch up on.”

  “We could always get the train,” I said.

  “It’s like ninety pounds to get to Kent. I checked.”

  “I’ll pay,” said Aled. We all looked at him. “I haven’t really been spending any money much recently. My student loan came in a few weeks ago.”

  “But what about my car?” Raine flopped dramatically over the bonnet and stroked it with one hand. “I can’t just leave her here.”

  “And Aled’s stuff is in there,” Daniel pointed out.

  Carys sighed. “I’ll stay with you, Raine, and we’ll sort out your car. You three go home on the train.”

  “What?” I said. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah.” Carys smiled. “I want to talk to this one, anyway.” She pointed towards Raine, who was making cooing noises and stroking the car bonnet.

  “About what?”

  “University alternatives for people who aren’t good at maths problems.” She shrugged. “Stuff they forget to tell you at school.”

  Despite saying he was going to revise on the train, Daniel fell asleep almost immediately. Aled and I sat opposite each other with a table between us and eventually we got on to the topic of Universe City.

  “I don’t want it to end,” I said.

  He drew in a breath and said, “Neither do I.”

  “I think–– I think you should start it back up again.”

  “Well … I want to.”

  “So you’re going to?”

  And he said, “Maybe,” but after that, we almost immediately started planning a new episode. Toulouse was in it, making a dramatic comeback from her sudden disappearance at the Gate of the Dead, and we started planning out some of the longer subplots as well – the Dark Blue Building, February Friday and Universe City itself. We started whispering lines of script to each other and Aled jotted them down in his phone, but we ended up waking Daniel anyway, and he rolled his eyes when he realised what we were doing, but he was smiling too. He tried to go back to sleep but couldn’t, so he just listened to us.

  “You’re doing the washing-up for at least three weeks,” said Mum. We were still on the train, about halfway home, and I was talking to her on the phone. I’d walked down the aisle to stand by the door, in between two carriages, because both Aled and Daniel had fallen asleep. “Also, I get to choose what Saturday night movie we watch for the next month. I can’t just fork out ninety pounds whenever I want. Believe me. I would if I could. I was at the garden centre the other day and they had a fountain shaped like a dog having a wee. Eighty quid. I mean, these are essential purchases we’re talking about here, Frances, essential purchases I’m sacrificing just so you can catch a train—”

  “Okay, okay, that’s fine.” I grinned. “You can choose the movie on Saturday. As long as it’s not Shrek.”

  “What about Shrek 2?”

  “Shrek 2 is allowed.”

  Mum laughed and I rested my head on the train door. We were passing a town. I didn’t know what town. I didn’t know where we were exactly.

  “Mum,” I said.

  “What’s up, sweetheart?”

  “I don’t think I want to do English lit at university any more.” I paused. “I don’t think I want to go to university.”

  “Oh, Frances.” She didn’t sound disappointed. “That’s okay.”

  “Is it okay?” I asked, because I wasn’t sure.

  “Yes,” she said. “It’s okay.”

  SUMMER

  A NEW VOICE

  Aled’s event was one of the headliners. 4pm in the biggest arena. I was passing some time watching one of the other YouTubers while Aled was getting ready and rehearsing the show with some of the backstage crew. The girl on at the moment was a musical comedian. She talked about Tumblr a lot, and interviewed a couple of actors who were making appearances, and then sang a few songs about Supernatural.

  As I was watching, I found myself standing next to someone who I felt like I had met before.

  Her hair was a weird black, or maybe very dark brown, I couldn’t quite tell, and she had a thick, full fringe concealing her eyebrows. She looked kind of tired, like she wasn’t quite aware of where exactly she was.

  After I’d been staring at her for going on a full ten seconds, she returned the stare.

  “I think I’ve seen you before,” she said, before I could. “Did you go to Higgs?”

  “Yeah, years ago. I moved to the Academy though …” My voice trailed away.

  She looked me up and down. “Did you dress up as Doctor Who once? For a party?”

  I laughed out of surprise. “Yeah!”

  There was a pause.

  “How’s the Academy?” she said. “I heard it’s pretty academic now. Like my school was.”

  “Yeah … yeah. You know. It’s school.”

  We both chuckled knowingly.

  The girl turned towards the stage. “God, school nearly killed me. So glad it’s over.”

  “Same,” I said with a grin.

  I went backstage. I had to run to avoid being late because I hadn’t been keeping an eye on the time.

  A woman wearing all black clothes and a head-microphone tried to call me over as I stormed down a backstage corridor, but I quickly said, “I’m with Radio,” and waved the pass I was wearing round my neck, and she left me alone. I guess I looked a bit like a fan – I was wearing my Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles leggings and an oversized band sweatshirt. I walked. Doors upon blank doors. At the end, a sign pointing left. STAGE.

  I turned left. Climbed some steps. I passed through the door that said ‘STAGE’ on it and found myself in the dark shadows of the backstage area. There were strange pulleys and ropes and wires everywhere, flashing lights and technical equipment, duct tape randomly plastere
d all over the place. Men and women all dressed in black hurried around, trapping me in a sort of hurricane of bodies, until one guy stopped and asked me, “Are you here with the Creator?” And I replied in the affirmative.

  He grinned freakishly. Fairly large, bearded, an iPad in his hands. He must have been at least thirty.

  “Oh my God. You must know who he is then? Oh my God. I haven’t seen him yet. All I’ve heard is that his name is Aled, but I have no idea what he looks like. Vicky said she saw him, but I haven’t seen him yet. He should be waiting over on stage-right. Oh my God, I’m just so excited.”

  I didn’t really know what to say to this, so I let him scuttle away and then made my way round the back of the stage, a narrow corridor between the back curtain and a black brick wall bordered by lights, as if we were aeroplanes that needed guiding in to land.

  Stage-right was practically empty compared to stage-left. There were three figures up near the front, two of them sort of fussing over the third.

  And then I saw him.

  I stopped for a moment.

  I couldn’t quite believe this was happening at all.

  No – I could believe it. And it was amazing. It was spectacular.

  The three figures eventually noticed me and turned, stepping into the light. Aled and two of the backstage crew, a man and a woman. The man, early twenties, had blue hair. The woman, forties, had dreadlocks.

  Aled walked towards me. He looked amazing in the weirdest way imaginable. He looked me in the eye, nervously, for only a few seconds, before turning his head away with a shy smile. He fiddled with his gloves. I grinned and looked him up and down. Yes. Radio. His hair that stupid pastel colour, and that stupid length, all tucked behind his ears. Three-piece suit, tie, gloves. There was a whole fresh wave of fan art on its way. They were going to love him.

  “You look so cool,” I said, and I meant it – he looked so cool, he looked like he could rise from the ground and float among the clouds and become the new sun, he looked like he could kill someone with a smile, he looked like the best person in the world.

  I had my art college acceptance letter in my pocket. Aled didn’t know about it yet. I’d never been more excited about anything, but I wasn’t going to tell him now. I was going to surprise him later.

  Today really was a wonderful day.

  “I—” He went to speak, but sort of swallowed instead.

  The whole hall blacked out, sending the audience wild with screams. Backstage, we could only see each other by a tiny desk lamp attached to a pipe on my right.

  “Twenty seconds,” said Dreadlocks.

  “It’s going to be all right, isn’t it?” Aled said, his voice shaking. “The script … it was— It was okay, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes, it was brilliant, as usual,” I said. “But it doesn’t matter what I think. This is your show.”

  Aled laughed. A rare and beautiful thing. “I wouldn’t be here without you, you giant idiot.”

  “Stop making me cry!”

  “Ten seconds,” said Blue Hair.

  “AND NOW, INTRODUCING A NEW VOICE TO THE EAST CONCERT HALL …”

  And he went white. I swear to god. Even in the thin light I could see it, his smile dropped and he just temporarily died.

  “A YOUTUBE PHENOMENON WHO HAS RECENTLY PASSED 700,000 SUBSCRIBERS …”

  “What if people don’t like it?” he said, his voice only just audible. “They’re all expecting something brilliant from me.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said. “It’s your show. If you like it, then it is brilliant.”

  “THE MYSTERIOUS STUDENT WHO HAS HIDDEN BEHIND A BLANK SCREEN FOR THE PAST THREE YEARS …”

  The stage exploded into colour, flashing lights soaring around the concert hall. The bass introduction to ‘Nothing Left For Us’ began to play and Aled picked up his guitar and hung it over his head.

  “Oh my God,” I said. “Oh my God, oh my God …”

  “Five seconds.”

  “THE ELUSIVE …”

  “Four.”

  “THE ALL-POWERFUL …”

  “Three.”

  “THE DEATH-DEFYING …”

  “Two.”

  “THE GOVERNMENT-OVERTHROWING …”

  “One.”

  “RADIO … SILENCE.”

  I could only see the back of his head, with the back of his neck just visible above his suit jacket as he stepped into the light of the stage, his steps happening so slowly, as heart-stopping music erupted into the air. I stopped breathing and saw everything. I saw the audience rise to their feet, just so wonderfully happy to finally see him in person, and it amazed me how many people Aled had made smile just by taking two steps on to a lit stage.

  I saw the backstage crew gather at the curtains on stage-left, clambering over each other to get a look at the Anonymous Creator. I saw Aled raise a gloved hand. I could see every face in the crowd. Every face smiling, wearing gloves and suits like Radio, some dressed as Chester or Atlas or the new characters from this year: Marine, Jupiter, Atom. I saw a girl near the front dressed as Toulouse, and it made my heart hurt.

  I watched Aled, or Radio, or whoever that guy was, grasp the microphone and open his mouth, and I whispered the words into the air while he roared them into the crowd.

  “Hello. I hope somebody is listening …”

  UNIVERSE CITY Live At Live!Video London 2014

  Live!Video 1,562,979 views

  Published on 16 Sep:

  Radio’s first ever live appearance at Live!Video London 2014 in the East Concert Hall on Saturday 22nd August. After revealing what they truly look like, Radio describes the outcome of their search for their Lost Brother and the latest developments in their quest to find an escape route from Universe City. They also discuss the future of Universe City and its sister cities across the country.

  Info:

  Radio is the creator of internationally-celebrated web podcast series ‘Universe City’, whose podcasts have reached over ten million views on YouTube since March 2011. Each podcast runs for 20–25 minutes, and the series follows students of Universe City as they discover the City’s secrets, faults and hypocrisies, as narrated by the one student who does not want to be there – the enigmatic Radio Silence.

  [TRANSCRIPT UNAVAILABLE]

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Thank you to everyone who supported me during the writing of my second book. It took a long time, but here we are!

  Thanks to the most important people in my career – my agent Claire and my editors Lizzie, Sam and Jocelyn. You keep me believing that what I’m doing is great and not terrible and everything is fine. I wouldn’t be anywhere without you.

  Thanks to my parents and brother, as always, for being the best family ever.

  Thanks to my beautiful friends from home, whom I can always rely on for laughs and hugs and sing-a-long car rides. Thanks to my beautiful housemates from university, who genuinely keep me sane. Thanks to my very important friend, Lauren James – you kept me believing in this book every step of the way.

  Thanks to Welcome to Night Vale, a major inspiration for Universe City and a genuinely excellent podcast.

  And thanks to you, reader. Whether you’re new, or whether you knew me back when I was posting on Tumblr in 2010 about how desperately I wanted to be an author. Whoever you are and however you found this book – I wrote it for all of us.

  Also by Alice Oseman

  Click here to read more …

  My name is Tori Spring. I like to sleep and I like to blog. Last year I had friends. Things were very different, I guess, but that’s all over now.

  Now there’s Solitaire …

  “The Catcher in the Rye for the digital age” The Times

  About the Author

  Alice Oseman is from Rochester, Kent, and is currently attending Durham University reading English. Her debut novel, Solitaire, was signed when she was eighteen years old and was published to critical acclaim – “The Catcher in the Rye for the digital age”
The Times. Like her characters, Alice was once a sarcastic teenager who spent all of her time on the Internet. Now she is a sarcastic 21-year-old who spends all of her time on the Internet.

  She is active on Twitter and Tumblr – and her writing of Radio Silence and Solitaire has been significantly inspired by behavioural trends on Tumblr. Radio Silence is her second novel.

  Follow Alice Oseman on Twitter and Instagram (@AliceOseman) and on Tumblr (chronicintrovert.tumblr.com).

  About the Publisher

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