What Dreams We Had

Part 1. Awake
Chapter 1
Elena was the first in the band to realise that things were going wrong. The number was called California Rock Chick. The lyrics were hers, and the tune was by DJ, but that hadn’t stopped Alex from introducing it as his own. Joey started a driving 2/4 beat on the drums, and Alex shouted the words.

Cool house, big pool, and her own hot car
She don’t give a shit about who you are
She turns all the heads when she walks on the beach
She’s a queen, she’s a dream and she’s outa your reach
She’s a California rock chick rock chick rock chick
California rock chick
Rock chick

Because it was a school prom, they’d changed ‘don’t give a shit’ to ‘couldn’t care less’. It didn’t matter; what was coming was far worse. The school banned alcohol, but Alex had managed to smuggle in a water bottle full of vodka. That and the weed he smoked at the break were enough to do it. At the end of the first chorus he stood up, clapping his hands, and began to chant.
A group of lads at the front who had been told off by a teacher for moshing couldn’t believe their luck. This was payback time. They took up what Alex was yelling with gusto, and more at the back of the hall joined in until it seemed that everyone there was shouting as one.

California cock chick
Cock chick cock chick
California cock chick
Cock chick cock chick

The teachers went berserk, although some of the younger ones couldn’t help laughing. DJ had the presence of mind to kill the mics, and Joey stopped drumming.

Steve Sutton, the Deputy Headteacher, leapt onto the stage. He was furious, scarlet with rage. He snatched Elena’s microphone and jabbed a finger at DJ to turn it up. ‘Silence!’ he bellowed into it. ‘Silence!’ Raggedly and slowly the racket ebbed. ‘You’ve had your fun. Now it’s over,’ he yelled, glaring at the boys at the front. ‘This prom is done. Finished. You’re all to leave. I want this hall cleared in two minutes.’

The students began to file out of the room. Some were gleeful, but many more were crestfallen, and from one quarter there was subdued booing. Several of the girls were in tears because the opportunity to get the most out of the prom regalia they’d been preparing for so long had been snatched from them. Eventually, the teachers managed to herd everyone out, but it took longer than the two minutes Sutton had demanded.

As the last few left through the rear doors, he turned to the band. ‘You too,’ he said. ‘Out.’ Joey started to undo the cymbals. ‘Leave it,’ he snapped. ‘Leave the stuff here. You can sort it out tomorrow. I want to see all of you in my office at 8.30 in the morning. I hope you’re pleased with yourselves.’ He stamped off to supervise the rest of the evacuation.

‘You idiot!’ DJ snarled at Alex, advancing on him. ‘What were you thinking?’ Elena thought he was going to hit him.
Alex didn’t answer. He’d sunk onto a chair and he looked a greasy white, as if he was about to throw up. Joey hooked Alex’s arm over his shoulders and helped him down from the stage. Elena followed.
* * *


It wasn’t the Deputy Head they saw the next morning. They were outside his office in good time, but he immediately led them to the room of Gina Meredith, the Headteacher. She sat behind an enormous desk, and the four of them lined up facing it. Sutton sat on a chair to the side. On the wall behind him was a large, illuminated copy of the school’s crest. DJ saw the motto underneath it. Pura mens puro corde ministratur, which he’d been told meant something about a pure mind and a pure heart. Oh shit, he thought.

They’d decided on their story the night before. Or rather Elena, DJ and Joey had; Alex had been completely out of it. The line they’d agreed on was simple. The chanting had come not from the band but from a group of boys. Sorry, they hadn’t seen exactly who started it and couldn’t name them. It was a lie, but, as Elena pointed out, it was justified for self-preservation, and it was morally acceptable because it didn’t hurt anyone else.

Meredith appeared sceptical. ‘Is that your reading of what happened, Mr Sutton?’ she said, turning to him.

He thought for a moment. ‘I honestly can’t say,’ he said. ‘The band may not have started the obscene chant, but my impression is that Alex at least joined in.’

Alex was about to say something, but Elena gave him a warning nudge. The four waited in silence.

The headteacher had a problem. The incident could be seen as the deliberate promotion of disorder, an attempt to sabotage one of the major events in the school year. It had resulted in the prom, which many students eagerly looked forward to, being cut short. Already there had been complaints from some of the parents. Suspension would be the obvious punishment. On the other hand, three of the band–Alex, DJ and Elena–were predicted to do very well in their exams next year. If she suspended them, there was the risk that they might decamp to the sixth form college that was in competition for the best students. Alongside that, Alex’s father had only recently made a substantial donation to the school’s development fund. Finally, because it was so nearly the end of term, suspension would be pointless.

At last Meredith spoke. ‘Your explanation doesn’t convince me,’ she said. ‘If I were certain that one of you was the instigator of this appalling behaviour, I would have no hesitation in punishing you severely. However, you assure me that it was none of you and we have no one who can say it was, so I must give you the benefit of the doubt.’

Despite this exoneration, they were in disgrace. It hardly mattered. Less than a week later the school closed for the summer break, and by the time DJ, Alex, Joey and Elena returned to begin the new term, the occasion seemed to have been forgotten. Except that the band wasn’t invited again to play at school events. Instead, another group from a year below took over. They called themselves Vampire Slaves, wore black and were heavily into fangs and fake blood. Worse than that was their music: repetitive covers badly played, with no original material at all.

The year raced on, work intensified, the summer term arrived with its battery of examinations, and then it was all over. Elena remarked that the exams were like Christmas; a long time coming, and then all over in a heartbeat. They were about to end their schooldays. The future with its challenges and opportunities, its delights and dangers, its risks and rewards, stretched before them.

The others were in the common room when Alex found them. 'Hey, guess what,' he said. ‘Meredith just sent for me, and you’ll never guess why.’ He paused, looking smug and enjoying their attention.

‘Go on then, genius,’ said DJ. ‘What will we never guess?’

‘Meredith asked me if we’d play at the end-of-term awards night.’

‘She never did!’

‘What?’

‘Really?’

‘Yes, really. She said she’s taking a risk. She said that in a few days we’ll be leaving. She said we could,’ and he made air quotes with his fingers, ‘“repeat the anarchy of last year”, or we could put on a great show and ensure everybody has a good time so that we leave in a blaze of glory. She said I was to talk to you all about it.’

‘Why you?’ DJ said.

‘She assumed I’m the band leader.’

‘You?’ DJ was irritated. ‘We don’t have a leader. We’re a democracy.’

‘Democracies have leaders,’ said Alex.

‘Well, it’s not you,’ said DJ.

‘Okay, okay,’ said Alex, shrugging. 'Anyway, there's another thing. We have to give the band a new name. We can't call ourselves The Greens anymore because that would be a reminder of what happened last year.'
* * *
They'd called their band The Greens because their first gigs, and the only ones for which they've so far been paid, had been at The Green Man, the pub run by Elena's parents. DJ, Alex, Joey and Elena are gathered around the table in Elena’s kitchen. Her parents are both downstairs, serving in the bar. Elena should have been there too, but it's a quiet night so they've let her off. In the middle of the table is a box. They've started the business of choosing their new name by brainstorming, writing ideas on slips of paper and dropping them into it.

Elena picks one out. 'Green People. Mm, that's not much different from The Greens.'

'And it sounds as if we're aliens,' says Alex. ‘Green has got other associations too. Like unripe. Or immature. Or green with envy. It’s just not cool.’

‘It’s cool when it’s to do with conservation,’ Joey says.

‘And what’s belting out rock to a roomful of people got to do with conservation?’

Elena dips into the box for another one. ‘To Be Continued.'

DJ, Alex and Joey receive the suggestion in silence. DJ is the first to respond. ‘It’s not bad. It kind of gives the idea of forward momentum, like we’re at the beginning of something.’

‘Yes, and it implies that we’re not done, that there’s more to come from us,’ says Joey.

They wait. What does Alex think? None of them is really taken with this one, but it's the best they've found so far. Alex says nothing for long seconds, then, ‘I suppose it’s got something, but there’s kind of an unfinished vibe to it. It sounds as if we’re a work in progress. We don’t want people to think we’re playing stuff we haven’t properly worked on. Like we haven’t rehearsed.’

DJ feels a stab of irritation. Every proposal drawn from the box is rejected by Alex, but he makes none of his own.

Elena chooses yet another slip. ‘Rainbow Avenue,’ she reads. ‘How about that?’ It’s a suggestion that’s come from her and she quite likes it. She can see the spectrum logo on Joey’s bass drum, but the faces of the others aren’t encouraging.

‘Yuk,’ says Alex.

‘We can’t,’ says DJ. ‘It’s too LGBT. They’ve kind of appropriated the rainbow, so it’s hard to use it for anything else. I mean, I don’t mind people thinking we’re gay,’ he adds hurriedly, ‘but we’re not gay, so why should we give people the idea that we are.’

‘Yeah, but it’s also a symbol of the NHS,’ says Elena. ‘Remember when all that Covid stuff was going on and there were NHS rainbows everywhere? People put them in their windows. What do you think, Joey?’

Joey doesn't pause to think. He's had an idea that he’s been mulling over. ‘Persons Unknown,’ he says.

Alex makes a sound somewhere between a sigh and a raspberry. ‘It wasn’t in the box. We’re only considering ideas that have been put in the box, or we’ll be here all night.’

This isn't a rule they’d agreed and DJ resents Alex suddenly inventing it, so he feels compelled to give Joey’s suggestion a run. ‘Mm,’ he says, thoughtfully. ‘It’s a possibility. It’s got a kind of mystery. Hey, we could dress in black and wear masks, like Anonymous.’

‘Are you serious?’ says Elena. ‘Dress up as anarchists and remind people of the last time we played at a school event? Good idea!’

‘Anyway, we don’t want to be unknown,’ Alex says wearily. ‘It’s the absolute opposite of what we want.’

‘So it’s kind of ironic?’ says Elena.

They all look at each other. It’s another no.

DJ goes back to the box. ‘Strip Mall Psychos,’ he reads. ‘Who the fuck came up with that one? Have we gone completely punk or something? Is this your writing, Joey?’

‘Hey,’ says Elena. ‘The first rule of brainstorming is that all ideas are unattributed, and they all get considered.’

'That’s two rules,’ says DJ. ‘Anyway, is anybody backing this one?’

They all shake their heads. Nobody owns up to putting it in the box.

Mia watches. She’s been sitting apart, tapping at her phone and listening to the discussion. She’s not a member of the band, and she wasn’t at the prom last year when there was the trouble. She realises she has no say in what they decide to call themselves, but she’s DJ’s girlfriend, so she thinks she should have. It scarcely matters, though. The band doesn’t have much life left. If their exam results turn out to be what their teachers have predicted, in a few weeks two of them will leave home to start courses at different universities. Alex, who’s taking a year off, and Joey, who’s starting a job in a local restaurant, will still be here, but Elena and DJ will be at opposite ends of the country. The band will split; it has no future. They only need a name for now.

She puts her hand up and coughs loudly. The other four turn towards her. ‘How about Friendly Fire?’ she says.

There’s another silence.

‘Hey, I like that,’ says DJ. ‘Fire gives a feeling of energy and passion, and Friendly chimes with the sort of music we play and the image we want to promote.’ He waits for Alex to disagree, but this time he doesn’t.

‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘Fire’s also aggression and attack, but Friendly tones it down and stops it from being too negative.’

‘I like it,’ says Elena. ‘It’s an oxymoron.’

‘Who are you calling a moron?’ Alex and DJ chant in unison, repeating the old joke that always came up when they did parts of speech in class.

They all laugh, even Joey, who remembers the word cropping up in an English lesson once but has long forgotten what it means. He looks over at Mia and wishes she were closer. She’s not long been at the school, and Joey has fancied her from the moment she arrived. There are prettier girls in their year, but with her dark hair, her dark eyes and her dancer’s body, Joey knows that Mia is something special. He also knows that she’s DJ’s girlfriend. All the girls think DJ is hot, and he could have any of them. Why did he have to pick her?

‘Friendly Fire it is then,’ says DJ.

‘Terrific,’ says Mia. ‘Thank God you’ve managed at last to agree on something. I’ll start right away on the posters.'