‘So, no plans except for your long list of plans,’ Owen says with a smirk.
‘Yes, obviously,’ Josh replies as if deeply offended.
‘We should probably get going if we want to get a good spot,’ Elliot cuts in, chugging down the last of his coffee.
After we pay and head back out to the cars, I giggle madly at Hennie and Josh as they start arguing about who’s sitting in Owen’s front seat for the rest of the journey.
‘We’rethirty-fiveminutes away,’ Owen shouts through the window from the driver’s seat. ‘Just decide!’
I plonk myself into Elliot’s car and shiver with delight when I feel his hand grip my thigh.
He rolls down my window to the sound of Hennie and Josh still fiercely in debate.
‘We’re going,’ Elliot declares, before putting the car in gear and driving out of the car park to join the long, slow line of cars that are all inevitably heading to the festival site.
His hand still rests on my thigh and I thread my fingers through his.
‘How are you feeling?’ he asks. I take a deep breath.
‘Okay,’ I answer honestly. Similarly to last year, I’m not exactly thrilled to be heading somewhere so densely populated with people, but this time I have the knowledge that I’ve made it through one Firecrest unscathed. And I could get through another. ‘I have been thinking though. That I might avoid the Firecrest Stage this year,’ I add with a smirk.
‘Sounds like a good idea,’ he replies with a laugh, bringing my hand to his lips to gently kiss it. The rain falls in a steady pattern over the windscreen as we come to a stop in the long queue.
‘How are you feeling?’ I ask.
He side-eyes me with surprise. ‘Never been better,’ he says with an easy smile.
‘It’ll be weird to just be regular people this year. You know, nobody staring at us and our hands clinging onto a drumstick,’ I tease. ‘No double takes or people taking photos.’
‘We can just hold hands like normal people.’
‘Holdhands? Gross.’ I wrinkle my nose in mock disgust. ‘I barely know you.’
He grins and pulls my head towards his for a brief, toe-curling kiss. ‘Take it back,’ he says into my mouth.
My laugh is muffled against his lips. ‘Focus on the road, driver.’
‘We’re stationary.’
‘Fine,’ I relent, pulling back and tucking a stray lock of his hair behind his ear. ‘I need to be permitted entry into the enormo-tent, so I’ll give in.’
I happily slump down into my seat as the traffic inches forward.
‘The only pity is no Queen Ego this year,’ he says, his eyes back on the road.
‘I know. It was lucky enough we got them last year, though.’
‘Yeah,’ he agrees, sounding torn. ‘I mostly wish they were here just so I could watchyouwatch them again, honestly.’
My shoulders shake with laughter. ‘Why? So I can destroy my vocal cords once and for all?’
‘It was just something else to witness,’ he recalls fondly. ‘Before we met and we spent that Queen Ego set standing next to each other, you were just so fucking – I don’t know –captivating.’
‘Good to know you were creeping.’
‘Sorry. Not really though,’ he amends. ‘You were just so free and unrestrained. Like you really lost yourself in it.’
‘Yeah, a decade ofsomethingwas released in those forty minutes.’
