I walked along the familiar path leading me home as I finished another day of sixth form; classes upon classes of stupid-ass teachers and unfulfilling work.
This weekend would be the best gig yet, I wasn’t just setting up for a well known band, I was setting up for about thirty of them. Reading Festival baby. Oh yeah. I will admit, only to myself of course, that I had a little fangirl moment when I found out I was getting the job. Only because, well... Who wouldn’t be excited to be setting up the equipment for bands like My Chemical Romance, 30 Seconds to Mars, The Strokes, Muse..? Seriously, the list is phenomenal.
This was all going to be professional of course, though. After all, my boss, John, knew I was the best around at what I did, which is why he picked me for the job, so of course, I had been trusted not to fuck it up. So this beautiful, beautiful turn of events brought me to where I am now, in my bedroom, packing a light bag for the best weekend of my life so far. Luckily for me, I only had about two lessons at school that day, giving me plenty of time to get there for when I was really needed. The one guy who was supposed to do it dropped out last minute, something about some guy’s family problems. I don’t know, I thought it might be a tad impersonal to ask...
“T-shirts, shorts, jeans, hoodie... Yup, I’m good to go.” I spoke aloud to myself, fully aware that I wasn’t talking to anyone in particular. Being a backstage crew member, most of my stuff had to be black, of course, I wasn’t really needed to be seen. That was no problem at all, as with me, it’s hard not to find black clothes in my possession.
Slipping on my monochrome Vans, grabbing my keys and Reading crew pass in hand, I scuttled quickly out of the front door, making my way to the train station in the middle of town, with high hopes of eventually making my way to Reading.
Standing in front of the map I conversed with myself, “Right. So I’m here,” I placed my left index finger on the board, keeping track of where I was currently situated, while placing my right index finger on the other side of the board, “and I should be here...” I dropped my hands and they fell hopelessly to my side, “Fuck...”
Just as I thought I was either going to die or get raped in this tube station, I saw some people walk past me waring what looked an awful lot like festival gear. One even had UV body paint in their hand. My, my they’re early. Even earlier than I was. Is that bad? It seems like it should be bad...
I finally found my way through all of the tube stations and train stations, arriving at Reading and the festival itself, though I constantly had to pretend like I wasn’t stalking these kids. I was, technically... But not in the creepy way.
I got to the security guys asking for tickets, and sheepishly walked up to them. I held up the crew pass that was dangling around my neck.
One of the two beefy men, the bald one, yanked my pass away from my hand pretty harshly, forcing me to crane my neck sideways. “Crystal Chandelier? Bit of a stripper’s name ain’t it?” He gave me this taunting look, as the other guy laughed, as if his joke was supposed to be funny. Nevertheless, it was a joke that was played at my expense regularly. Especially when I met new people.
I snatched my pass back, “It’s Krystal Chandler, thank you. Now, are you going to let me in?”
He scoffed, letting me pass, “Ever heard of a thing called manners, sweetheart?”
I laughed dryly, “I don’t think you have the right to talk to me about manners.”
After some light banter with the two beefy men, they finally let me go, to which I breathed a sigh of relief. I looked around at the large stretch of land that had been transformed into the Reading Festival; tents, stages, people... Oh, so many people... My breath instantly hitched again though, when I realised I hadn’t the foggiest idea as to where the fuck I was meant to go.
Oh this is just swell.