Get on TV at least once
The List goes on and on.
‘What does “Ransom” mean?’ I ask him.
‘Ah! The wondrous mystery that is Ransom,’ he proclaims, placing a steadying hand on my shoulder. ‘It has eluded me for years. But no longer! For this shall be my year.’
‘Right.’ Hennie nods. ‘So… what is it?’
‘Oh!’ He grins. ‘It’s a club. Or a bar. Or something. Nobody really knows! Which is where the beauty lies. It’s a mystery. And apparently what it is changes every year. I’ve tried to get inprobably a hundred times but never succeeded. I’m just cursed, babe.’
‘Don’t put yourself down, Ham,’ Owen says. ‘You’re just one man tackling a festival with love in your heart and meat in your bag.’
I snort unattractively.
‘What, is it like a members’ club?’ Hennie says. ‘VIPs or something?’
‘That’s what I think it is,’ Owen chips in. ‘Sounds like elitist bullshit to me.’
‘Well then, I look forward to reporting back to you what exactly is inside Ransom this year, my good friend,’ Josh replies with a wink.
‘Fine, Elliot and I will hold the bags,’ Owen says with a smirk.
Elliot huffs a quiet laugh. I wonder if he’s always this reserved, or if he’s less talkative than usual due to Hennie’s and my unexpected presence. He seems to be more of an observer, keeping a watchful eye over his friends.
‘How many times have you done this?’ I ask him.
His eyes find mine with faint surprise. ‘Done what?’
‘You know, Crest Fest.’ I nod at the ground in front of us as if it represents the festival.
‘Um, never,’ he says after a moment of hesitation. ‘This is my first time, actually.’
‘Oh, you didn’t wantto come?’ I weave to my right to avoid an approaching herd of men and feel Elliot’s arm brush mine.
He smoothly moves to make space for me. ‘No, not exactly. I just didn’t really think Firecrest was my thing. I guess this felt like the year to try it out.’ His voice feels light and controlled, like he’s leaving out details. Only sharing essential information.
‘Fair enough,’ I agree.
It is somewhat difficult to process the transition of the stubborn man I met at Queen Ego to the quiet and generally less unpleasant man I’ve been attached to since.
‘This is your first Firecrest, I take it?’ he asks.
‘Oh, yeah,’ I reply. ‘That little phobia of mine tends to get in the way of stuff like this.’
‘I can imagine,’ he says, pausing mid-step to allow me to walk ahead of him through a more populated path.
‘Thanks,’ I murmur behind me.
‘So, how’s your first Crest Fest experience been so far?’
Gosh. He’s being very polite. Is he a journalist? Am I suddenly a guest on his podcast?
But when I turn to look at him, he’s got a new light in his eyes that borders on playful and I have to bite back a smile. He’s bloody aware of how my Firecrest experience is going now.
