London Super Comic Convention, 24th February 2013.

I have little to no interest in comics. I’ve read a few mangas (Battle Royale and Death Note, really, and even then I haven’t read all of them) but I’ve never been particularly into superheroes, I’m much more of a Disney princesses girl. However, when FVK announced they were releasing a comic and would be at London Comicon Louise, Annabel and I immediately knew we were going. It was only just over a week after the end of K! tour but we all missed the lads so much already that we weren’t willing to pass up the opportunity to see them. Plus it had the added bonus of falling the day after Beveridge’s birthday which meant I had the perfect opportunity to give him a card I’d bought him at a comic convention I’d bought about a week before. (The Dead Lay Waiting launched THEIR comic at Midlands Super Comicon in Telford like a day or so after the end of K! tour so we’d gone to that too cos it was so close to both of our homes.) I’ve only brought this card up because I umm-ed and ahh-ed all the way to London about whether to give it to Beveridge or not, and in fact I’d umm-ed and ahh-ed over whether to even buy it in the first place because the outcome was either going to be really good or really bad. I should probably stop rambling and just explain that the card said “I LOVE YOU YOU CUNT” on the front, which I’d seen and found hilarious obviously thanks to my love for Beveridge saying cunt. I eventually wrote in it in the car just before we went into the convention, because it had taken me until then to decide that I was actually just going to brave it and give it to him. I had to hide it as I wrote in it though, because as this was a convention and not a gig Louise had brought the twins, Bill and Ted, with her to meet FVK. I think they were probably about 7 so you know, the card wasn’t exactly the most appropriate thing for them to see, so I kept it away from little eyes as well as I could. I’d also made Beveridge a scarf identical to (well…slightly better than) the one I’d made him the first time I met him, because at some point I’d asked him what had happened to it and he said he didn’t know where it had gone, so I knitted him a new one.

I don’t think we’d booked to go in for two days but for some reason when we got there we ended up with a two day pass which was really cool cos it was on a proper lanyard and made me feel super important because I am an actual child. We spent quite a while wandering around cos the lads weren’t actually all sat down at the table when we got there. I know Drew and Shane came and talked to us for a bit because I remember them being there and talking to the twins (and I remember making them into t-rexes), but my main memory of before I bought my poster is seeing Beveridge and going up to him to give him his scarf. I had it around my neck at the time, so I took it off me and told him to bend down so I could put it on him, so he did. The only issue was, I’m such a clumsy twat that as I reached up to put it around his neck I caught his face with my fingernail and started apologising profusely and stroking his face. I continued this for a couple of seconds before I realised that I was literally stood there STROKING HIS FUCKING FACE and then we made really awkward eye contact and I apologised repeatedly again and he just stood there and went “Do…um…do you have any gum?” …….It’s really made me uncomfortable recounting that I’m not even gonna lie hahaha holy shit. God bless Beveridge and his amazing ability to make me feel like I haven’t just made myself look like the biggest tit in the whole world.

I remember at one point talking to Pill and telling him I couldn’t be his friend any more because he was wearing a pair of bright white clearly fairly new converse pumps. However, when I looked more closely I realised they had red spots on them, and slightly warily I asked what the substance was. He informed me it was cranberry juice. I strongly suspect it was mixed with vodka, and that was how it came to be on his shoes.

When we went to actually see the lads sat at their table Steve was there with them, and he arranged us all into a queue to walk up and talk to them and get the posters they were selling signed. The posters were limited to a run of 100 and were all numbered, and I ended up with number two cos Steve made sure we were at the front of the queue, bless him. As I walked up to the table I noticed a coffee stirrer with a squiggle on it that I recognised as Kemp’s autograph. I asked why the fuck he’d signed a stirrer and he informed me he’d been ‘practicing’ on it and told me I could have it if I wanted it. I still don’t really understand why I took it, but I did and it’s still in my box of weird FVK shit.

 

 I gave Beveridge his card then because for reasons I don’t remember I hadn’t given him it when I gave him his scarf, and I remember standing there as he opened it and thinking “I immediately regret this decision”. I’d written something inside it that was like “I’m sorry I’m not really calling you a cunt I just thought that this was funny because I like it so much when you say it but anyway happy birthday sorry about the card again” or something equally bad, and as he opened it and looked at it Pill looked over his shoulder and fully pissed himself laughing. I don’t think Beveridge really knew how to take it but in the end he laughed (thank God). The only other thing I remember is having to get a present someone else had given him out of the packet for him because he was too special to be able to do it for himself.

After we’d queued to meet the lads and got shit signed we just sort of stood to the side because there was hardly anyone else there and we figured we’d be able to spend some extra time with the lads before they’d have to leave. I don’t really remember how any of what happened next happened but I ended up on my own (I think Louise and Annabel went to the toilet but neither of them were contactable and I wandered away from where we were supposed to meet up) and buggered off to go and see if I could find Beveridge to apologise again for stabbing and then caressing his face. He’d gone to see a guy whose name I think is David Lloyd, who did the art for the V for Vendetta comic because he wanted a photo with him and his autograph. I eventually found him with Kemp, who was stood with one of Jen’s cameras waiting to take a photo for Beveridge. I sort of hung back wanting to talk to them but not wanting to interrupt when Kemp suddenly took a photo of me. I don’t know why he did it, and I don’t think he did either, but I hope it got deleted because it will have been the most unflattering thing ever because I was literally just stood looking gormless trying to form sentences in my head. Oh well. I think I wandered off again to try and find Louise at this point, but instead I found Shane surrounded by a group of fans and looking very lost and confused. A soon as he saw me he waved me over and said “Meg, can you take me to the rest of my band please?” which was probably one of the cutest things I’ve ever heard in my life. I told him of course I would and led him away. The people he’d been talking to followed us for a bit but the bonus of knowing the lads quite well is that a lot of the time people seem to think you work for/with them and so no-one questions you when you interrupt or lead them away, and so they didn’t stay with us for long. I took Shane to where I’d last seen Kemp and Beveridge and luckily they were still there so I left him there and went to look at a stall that had caught my eye a few tables down. It was this stall I decided to buy Beveridge a second birthday card from, because the Cunt one (while hilarious to Pill) hadn’t really gone down that well with him, and I didn’t like the thought of him being unimpressed with me. The card I bought for him from the stall was really cute and had a panda on it and the message “I didn’t know what to get you for your birthday so here’s a chubby panda holding an ice lolly”. I didn’t think until after I’d bought it that it might come across that I was calling Beveridge a chubby panda but I just went with it cos to be fair it couldn’t possibly have gone down as badly as my other one so you know. I actually strolled over seconds after I’d bought it and gave it to him still in the cellophane because it seemed like an amusing idea at the time. However, he then said something about that meaning he could re-use it and give it to someone else  and I said “You can’t do that, I bought it for you!” and he pulled me into a hug and said “Don’t worry, if I do give it to someone I’ll make sure it’s my BEST friend.” and gave me a squish. At that point I took it back off him and wrote in it so he couldn’t re-use it.

The last thing I remember is asking Kemp to take a photo of Beveridge and I because mum had said Beveridge and I looked similar, especially when we had our glasses on, and because we both had them on I wanted a photo of us both together. Because I still hadn’t actually found Louise the only person I could think of to ask was Kemp. I regretted that almost as soon as I’d handed my camera over because instead of taking a photo he turned the damn thing off. He then started shouting “Take, you bastard!” at it and I ended up with the most unflattering photo ever because I’m half laughing half giving Kemp the most suspicious look ever and it’s just… not good.

Shortly after that the lads left, having told me they had to go and make a video for Kerrang! (This turned out to be Noise Town, and in it Shane is wearing the scarf I’d given Beveridge because he’d said he was cold and Beveridge let him borrow it.) As they walked out Kemp walked past me and hit me on the head with a tin full of fairy cakes he’d been given. This probably sounds like a really stupid thing to add in, but the reason I’ve included it is because that was the moment I realised Kemp and I were friends. I’d been playfully teasing him for a while (not as much as I do now, you understand, I didn’t go in going “Kemp you’re a prick”, I’ve worked my way up to that) but that was the first time he’d done it to me, and it made me so happy to think that he felt comfortable enough with me that I almost felt tearful. But not too tearful. I mean it was still Kemp after all.

Until next time,

Meg Mercury xoxo

Brixton, 15th February 2013.

Brixton was pretty great because Ashes had decided to come to the gig and spent most of the day in the queue with us. In a hilarious turn of events, when we all made a fuss of them all the BVB fans started asking them for photos and things, despite not knowing who they were. Nico in particular was swamped, presumably because he looks ever so slightly like Andy Biersack. I don’t know who everyone thought they were, but when the girls behind us came back from having had photos one of them turned to the other and said “…Who is that?” I didn’t enlighten them. In fact Crilly stood with us for ages and made me a heart out of a Starburst wrapper that I kept in my purse for a very long time. Because you know, I’m really lame.

The only other overriding memory I have of being in the queue that day is that  Kemp appeared at the top of the street and I waved to him and shouted hello and went to step off the curb to go and talk to him when a girl punched me RIGHT IN THE TIT to get me out of the way and get to him first. I mean what the hell.

Getting front row this day was a miracle. I mean honestly I’ll never know how we did that. It helped that I’d bought an O2 simcard for my phone because we knew that at O2 venues you could go in a priority queue if you had a phone on their network so I bought the card for 99p and put it in my phone like 30 seconds before we went in so I could show them the service provider and they just waved us through. We hit the barrier and squashed on an end next to some girls who had gotten VIP entry with a BVB meet and greet. One of them actually gave me a pint of lager cos she’d bought four and didn’t want them all even though she’d paid about £30 for them. She was ace. I miss her. I wish she was at every gig.

I cried a bit during this particular set cos I was just so proud of the lads for being where they were, which is really lame but also nothing compared to how much I cried the next time I saw them play Brixton but more on that later.

I met Tom Adolph properly for the first time this night, which was a glorious experience. Tom is good people. For reasons I don’t recollect he insisted we pouted in our photo. I think we pulled it off though. (Just before this was taken Kelly was an actual badass HERO and ripped the sleeves off my long-sleeved t-shirt and also ripped the neck open because I thought I was melting and omg that was just genius.)

I don’t remember much about meeting the lads inside other than Pill telling me his mum was there so he couldn’t stay long. I knew Ross was there too but I didn’t actually get to meet him this day, it’d be ANOTHER WHOLE YEAR before I met Ross, and even then I was off my fucking face. Poor Ross. 

I can't remember at what point or why but for some reason Crilly and Falkor signed my eyelids. I remember Falkor telling me that 'a true friend would let him do it' and for some reason that was all the convincing I needed.

When we left, there was a queue outside by BVB’s tour bus, which was parked by the stage door, which I assume was a bunch of people trying to meet the band. We hovered around for a bit wondering if FVK would appear, and then all of a sudden Shane and Beveridge did. We waited whilst they fought their way through the crowd to the other side of the queue (who were barriered in, I should mention) and started slowly making their way up the line signing things and having photos with anyone that wanted them. I went over to try and talk to Beveridge at one point and ask for a photo but a security guard told me that if I wanted my turn I had to go to the back of the line and I got really scared and walked away.
Annabel was really poorly so we decided to call it quits and go back to the car. Cos the lads were further away from security by this time I ran over to Beveridge and gave him a hug and tried to say bye without crying which I think I may have just about managed.

 Until next time, 

Meg Mercury xoxo

Birmingham, 14th February 2013.

Jumping straight in with my main musically based memory, Beveridge stormed off the stage in Birmingham after AWWTT because something went wrong. I hate seeing him do that, because he puts everything into his performances and I know it really gets to him when stuff doesn’t go perfectly.
But moving onto happier memories, the girl next to me caught Drew’s pick and gave it to me, which was really really sweet of her.

I have more memories of after they played, some of which have literally just come back to me as I started typing. During the day I’d gone into town and bought Beveridge some highlighters shaped/painted like kittens. I wrote him a little note and put it in the packet saying something like “They had panda ones but I thought you might like cats for a change!” He took the note out, read it, and thanked me. About five minutes later he went to use one of the pens and I heard him exclaim “OH, IT’S A CAT!”
I give up.

I asked Drew to sign the pick the girl had given me but he didn’t have a pen, and I ended up sneaking up to Pill and stealing the Sharpie he had clipped to his belt. I don’t think he even turned around, but I don’t know if that means I’m a good thief or if Pill has just stopped giving a shit.

Also there were a LOT of photos taken this night, most of which were incredibly unflattering but you know. Better than nothing.

I can’t remember what I was talking to Kemp about, but I think I must have mentioned how many shows I’d done and he held his hand out. I had no idea what he wanted but after a few seconds of hesitation I shook his hand. I don’t know if that was what he was aiming for but he then told me “You don’t know what it means that you do all these shows.” and I had to squeeze his hand and walk away before I cried.

This was the night I decided to tell Beveridge he was one of the reasons I was alive. I’d wanted to tell him for a week or more but I didn’t ever seem to find the right time, which was made especially frustrating because I’d managed to so easily with Pill. Anyway, as we stood outside milling around I went up to Beveridge (who I think was just finishing up talking to another fan who probably heard my entire story but meh) and asked if I could tell him a secret. In a move only Beveridge would pull, he said “Yes” and then bent down to allow me to whisper into his ear. I laughed and told him it wasn’t really that kind of secret, it was just something I didn’t necessarily want everyone to know, and proceeded to explain to him what had happened.. I don’t really remember much about Beveridge’s reaction other than he held me for a really long time.

A month later in Cardiff I apologised for having told him all this, and he told me he was like a therapist, and not to worry because it went in one ear and out of the other.
…I think he meant it to sound nicer than it actually did. 

Until next time, 

Meg Mercury xoxo

Sheffield, 13th February 2013.

There was a LOT of snow in Sheffield. Like there’d been sleet in Glasgow but there was full on snow in Sheffield. My main memory of seeing the lads before they played is standing talking to Beveridge watching his facial expressions very carefully because people around us were having a snowball fight and I was watching him to find out whether I was about to be hit or not. Oh and I made Beveridge into a T-Rex and ended up with one of the most adorable photos I think I’ve seen in my life.

Speaking of adorable photos, this was the night I got my sexy photo with Beveridge where we’re both pulling gross faces. Amazing.

I'd actually forgotten up until writing this blog that I got very excited at this gig because I got to sing a couple of lines of At War With The Thirst into the mic with Beveridge.
I think that's one of the only things I sometimes miss about front row, I always used to love being able to do that!

Pill was so so poorly in Sheffield, I felt so sorry for him. He came out to meet everyone with about six layers on, and he looked practically green.

Shane provided the most entertainment this night in my mind, as for the first time ever (to my recollection) I saw him drunk. He was drinking budget whiskey and coke, and in my photo with him he insisted that he wanted his foot to be in it. I was practically holding him up although admittedly that isn’t hard cos I think he weighs about three stone. He also ended up waffling on about the fact that he’d had a phone call from the bank that day and they’d said that he ‘couldn’t have any more money’ which absolutely killed me cos he sounded so damn sad about it. It’s okay, I bought him a drink to cheer him up. Or at least get him more drunk.

Until next time,

Meg Mercury xoxo

Glasgow, 10th February 2013.

The trip to Glasgow was even more insane than the trip to Liverpool. We left the venue in Liverpool with the intention of driving straight to Glasgow, but that didn’t go so well because I started hallucinating on the motorway and made Louise pull over. I’d never hallucinated before in my life, but at about 2 in the morning somewhere on the road between Liverpool and Glasgow I became 100% convinced that I could see a man running down the middle of the motorway, and then all of a sudden we drove through him. (I can’t remember whether it was on the way to Glasgow or on the way home the next day but at one point I also saw evil faces in the trees…) It was my job to keep Louise alert and I knew that I was about to pass out, so I figured the safest option was to stop for a little while. How she’d driven as far as she had in those last two days I’ll never know, although I suppose she did actually sleep in Liverpool when I didn’t so she was probably running on that. After having had about two hours sleep (cuddling my drumstick and snuggling into a sleeping bag for all I was worth) we carried on, until I insisted we stop for coffee/a wee.

I’d had no idea until this day that service stations had showers. This was a total revelation for me, and as someone who washes her hair daily to save looking like she’d stuck her head in a chip pan it was a total life saver. I attained the key for the ‘shower’ (it was basically a shower head on a wall in a tiled room) and set about trying desperately to wet only my hair in order to wash it with the closest thing I had to shampoo, which was something called ‘apple foot scrub’. I didn’t have a towel, so when I’d finally done as good a job as I could manage I wrapped a pair of pyjama bottoms around my head and hoped that my hair would dry rather than freeze solid. I think I ended up with about 50/50.

We got to Glasgow at about 6am, and once again there were only two or three people in front of us. We settled ourselves down on the floor wrapped in a cheap double duvet, and began the 12 hour wait over again. We’d been there all of about half an hour when a very very drunk Glaswegian man came staggering past us. He stopped, turned around and came back, looking at us like we were absolutely fucking insane (to be honest looking back at this experience he was probably right to do so ). He said asked something along the lines of who/what we were waiting for and when we told him it was a band he started to laugh. He rambled on for about five minutes about how drunk he was and presumably a bunch of other stuff that I didn’t catch because drunk Glaswegian is the fucking hardest of languages to translate and then told us that we were even more hardcore than him because even though he was totally wasted he was going home to bed and wasn’t going to have to sit in the snow. Even at the time I recall thinking how jealous I was that he was going home to bed.  Not long after Mr Drunk had gone home, it started to sleet. While we had the duvet (which until that point had been lovely and dry and warm) we had nothing actually waterproof, so we were totally and utterly fucked. In the end, Louise and Annabel left me there to go to a Sports Direct (or something similar) and pick up some cheap umbrellas to try and construct a fort with. Whilst they were gone and I was on my own two girls turned up to queue behind me. If we thought we were unprepared not having anything to keep the sleet off then we were nothing compared to these girls. They were both wearing shorts, stockings, and crop tops. That’s it. Neither of them even had a coat. Keeping in mind that this was a February tour, even without the sleet they would have been absolutely fucking freezing. Had I been a nicer person I would have offered them the duvet but as it was I was cold and tired and alone so I just left them to it. I think they lasted about an hour before they both turned blue and disappeared. Actually now that I come to think of it, they never came back… I hope they didn’t actually die just because I was too selfish to share my soggy duvet…

By the time we went into the gig, the two or three people in front of us had swelled to a crowd of 30 or 40, because every time we left to go and grab food or go to the loo, the people in front of us let their mates and their mates mates and their dog in, thinking we wouldn’t notice. Let me tell you now, there is nothing more fucking annoying that sitting outside a venue from 6am to 6pm and seeing a group of 5 people rock up at  5.55pm and waltz into the venue in front of you. One person is fair enough, if you’re waiting for a mate I totally get that but seriously, these guys took the piss. To the point where I was almost in tears of frustration. If you’re ever at a gig and there are 3 people behind you who’ve been there all day and you want to let 50 mates in to go in with you, please don’t be a dick, let the three people go in first, for the love of God.

Anyway. We FINALLY got in and managed to get front row by some fucking miracle I will never understand as long as I live. My only other resounding memory of Glasgow music-wise is the fucking insane pits that got going during Chiodos. The venue itself was amazing, I think it was an old theatre or something, and it had balconies and slopes everywhere, so for once I didn’t actually find it all that hard to see once we’d bailed back from front row. Chiodos called for a pit every night and usually got one, but the crowd in Glasgow was actually FUCKING MENTAL. Like I think the pit was going before it was called for. To be honest I think it was going before the band was even on. It was huge, too, and there was a guy in the middle directing the pit and picking people up, a proper pit general. He was my hero.

After the guys had played and we’d watched a bit of Chiodos I came to the horrible realisation that I urgently needed something from the car. I don’t take a bag into gigs (well, I do now, but I didn’t used to) and the thing I needed wouldn’t have fitted in my pocket, so I was pretty screwed. I went to the doorman and asked if I could have a pass-out, which he refused, saying that leaving the venue was leaving the venue and there was no re-entry. I tried to explain that I urgently needed something from my car and I’d be gone all of two minutes, but he still refused. I ended up going to a female security guard and asking her if I could leave. She asked me what exactly it was that I needed. I announced “SANITARY TOWELS.” as loudly as I possibly could, at which point all the male guards looked away and the lady opened the door for me and told me to be quick.
Never cross a woman on her period.

We met the lads in the venue this night (which we had also done in Liverpool but only very very briefly). They came out during BVB for about half an hour before they were herded away, which was nice because we’d been told that they weren’t actually allowed out while BVB were playing, as they wanted 100% of the audience’s attention. Delightful. The photo I got of Beveridge and I inside this night is blurry as hell but also really cute, cos I don’t look like I’m freezing to death, and therefore remains one of my faves of us.

I can’t remember whether I told him at this point that it was my 20^th show or not. I think I told Pill, but I might not have told anyone else until we were outside afterwards when Louise gave everyone cake because it was their 25^th show. In saying that, I’ve just remembered spending about 5 minutes arguing with Drew outside about the fact that pink wasn’t a flavour, because he’d said he wanted pink when asked what flavour cupcake he wanted. I’d forgotten that…

When we left the venue and went out to wait for the lads I ended up with about 6 layers on, including my pyjamas, because it was seriously so fucking cold. I don’t remember much of anything in particular happening, other than telling Beveridge that I missed my cat, and him talking about his cat. …I just really love my cat okay.

Until next time,

Meg Mercury xoxo 

Liverpool, 9th February 2013.

Liverpool was mental.
Well. Let me rephrase that. Getting to Liverpool was mental. 

Again, we’d decided that we wanted to be front row (I think Kemp had actually said something about it being nice seeing ‘familiar faces’ on the front row in Cardiff) so we left really early in the morning again. In fact, I’ll give you an actual breakdown of what happened so that you’re fully aware of how long I was awake because that’ll give you an idea as to why shit that happened later came to pass. Basically, I had to work the day before Liverpool, so I got up at 6.30am, worked a full day, went and got on a train, went to Louise’s house, she went to work at 10pm, came home at 2am, and we left her house about 2.30am. We got to Liverpool for about 4.30am, so I’d been awake about 22 hours. There were still people in the venue, who were still there after a club night that had started THE NIGHT BEFORE. That’s how early we were. We parked in a multi-storey car park opposite the venue and everyone except me took it in turns sleeping in the car. I essentially sat outside a venue, bar a few toilet/food breaks, for 13 hours that day to be on the motherfucking front row. In February. 13 hours outside a venue in FEBRUARY. I am aware that this was my own choice but if I’m ever to be awarded a medal for anything in my life I think it should be that.

Louise and I left Annabel in the car and went to queue at about 6, by which time BVB’s tour bus had arrived. We must have looked a really sad and pathetic sight because their driver took pity on us and invited us onto the bus for a coffee. The band were upstairs asleep and we stood awkwardly by the door while he made us our drinks and handed us them and then had a ten minute long whispered conversation about the fact we weren’t even there for the headline act. He thought we were insane. At that point so did I.

Liverpool was the place I met Maz ‘properly’ for the first time. Our mutual friend Kat had told us to follow each other on Twitter cos we both liked FVK but it wasn’t really until we started talking that we realised we’d spoken a few times before but not much had ever really come of it. I can’t remember how it came about but I remember offering my help in Liverpool because she was going to be wearing a corset and didn’t know if she could lace herself into it, and I suddenly got a text at some point in the afternoon saying “Room 208. Help. Xx” I went and laced her right up. In return, I got a cup of vodka and coke. With a saucer. Cos we’m classy to a fault.

I think it was after this that Kemp got arrested, but I might be wrong.

 …I’ll explain. Essentially, we saw the lads arrive and as we went down to say hello we noticed blue flashing lights. Not wanting to interrupt anything important we hung back and just left them to it. When we went back about twenty minutes later the police had gone and Dave told us there’d been a mix up and the van wasn’t registered as road legal or something, and he and Kemp had actually been put under arrest for all of about 5 minutes. I didn’t even know Kemp could be that rock and roll.

This is a really trivial thing but it makes me smile. After the arrests (lol), I was stood talking to Beveridge about nothing in particular (not that that’s unusual) and someone came and stood by us. I shut up to let her talk to Beveridge, and as she was talking to him she turned to me and said “This is a weird question, but are you Megan Mercury?” I opened my mouth to answer but before I could Beveridge replied with “Yes she is” and just grinned at me. I’ll never forget that.

We eventually went in and got as warm as possible and settled down on the front row. I don’t remember much of the set but I filmed Fetish For The Finite (click here to watch) and I think Beveridge gives us some sort of nod or something that essentially acknowledges us and so basically all the hours outside the venue were forgotten in that moment so that’s okay. At the end of the set, God bless him and true to his word, Pill threw me his drumstick. I missed it. I had to wave my arms around like a mentalist to get the security guy to notice and give it to me. I was so worried about someone else asking for it and I don’t know why, cos as it turned out no-one else wanted it or gave a shit. But anyway. It was mine. Is mine, even. That drumstick became like a fucking talisman to me over the next few days.

Trying to get off of the front row was quite a thing this night, cos no-one wanted to let us move. No-one seemed to understand that we were trying to move OFF the front row, not further into the middle, and we were just fucking trapped. I took an elbow to the mouth and split the inside of my lip right open, and two seconds later I was on the floor cos I’d tripped over someone. I was a beautiful sight, I’m sure.

Afterwards, outside, I made Pill  ‘write a note’ on the drumstick. He wrote “I’m your home boy”.

Until next time,

Meg Mercury xoxo

Cardiff, 3rd February 2013.

We accidentally knew about K! tour before it was announced, because Louise and Annabel went to see Dave when he was working with another band, and he told them that there was a BVB/FVK tour coming up. I was a BVB fan at the time (I was starting to go off them but I still think they’re okay to be honest) and I knew they were due to play K! so we kind of put two and two together and worked it out.

Cardiff, like the Birmingham Ashes date, fell on a shit day for me, because the third of February was my Dad's birthday. Once again, I decided to ignore it and go anyway.

Louise and Annabel stayed at my house the night before Cardiff so we could get up really early and go. The headline act on the K! Tour was Black Veil Brides, so we knew this tour was going to be huge and also full of fangirls. This made us even more determined to be front row. We wanted the lads to know that they weren't going from playing to a room full of friends to a room full of strangers. I think it was something like 4am when my alarm went off, and we left at 5. We must have been outside by about 7, and we were the second lot of people there, guaranteeing us front row. Frick yeah. The day was spent fucking about, singing the Spongebob theme tune and trying to get away with peeing in Costa as many times as possible before they told us we had to buy something. The only exciting thing that happened that day that I can recall was trying to find a toilet in the university building next door to the venue and accidentally walking into Andy Biersack. Literally. Like I almost knocked him flat.

Oh wait I’ve just remembered another thing! I’d made Pill and I matching t-shirts. I can’t remember how it came about but for some reason on Twitter I’d referred to Pill as my ‘home boy’, and at the January Ashes show I’d threatened to make us matching t-shirts. He told me that if I did he’d wear it, and so I did. Mine said “Pillnahn is my homeboy” and his said “I’m Meg’s homeboy”. I’d brought them with me with the intention of giving it to him before the show, but I’d forgotten and left it in the car, so I couldn’t give it to him when I saw him. At some point during the day someone walked up the queue handing out flyers, and we dismissed them without a second glance until we realised the person was wearing FVK merch and called them back. It turned out to be Pill’s brother, Lee, so I legged it over to the car (we’d moved it closer at this point) and got the shirt, asking Lee to take it in for me and give it to Pill. He told me Pill had said something about the shirt so he’d make sure he got it, and God bless him he did. About 15 minutes later Pill tweeted me a picture of himself in it and I burst into tears. I love that boy more than I can explain.

When we finally got into the venue we ran to the front row and ended up on the very end, towards Shane's side. Shane was in fact still on the stage setting up, as was Drew. We shouted to Shane that he was too far away and it was weird and we didn't like it, and he reached his arms out to us and pulled a sad face which was pretty much the most heartbreaking thing ever. In fact I think I cried during the set because I remember thinking that this was the beginning of the end regarding gigs. I honestly thought (in all my music/band related ignorance) that K! would like skyrocket the lads into stardom and that'd be it, I wouldn't be able to follow them any more and I wouldn't be able to meet them before/after gigs and just...it'd all be over.  Part of the crying was pride due to this thought because I've never met 5 lads more worthy of achieving their dream in my life than FVK but mostly I was crying selfishly for what I thought was going to be my loss.

Anyway... It was the shortest set I think I'd ever seen them play and it seemed to be over very quickly. The main thing about it that sticks in my mind is the fact that during At War With The Thirst Beveridge got really carried away and decided he wanted to interact with the crowd. He stepped off the stage and to the barrier, doing his usual thing of grabbing people's hands and singing with them. The problem came when he turned around to get back on stage and realised he couldn't get up there. It was a huge drop, and whilst going down hadn't cause a problem, trying to get back up did. He ended up half lying on the stage trying to scramble up and it was simultaneously the funniest and most mortifying thing I've ever seen in my life. In fact, I think he sang the wrong words because he got lost and couldn’t remember what point he was at in the song.

We bailed after FVK had played cos none of us cared about Tonight Alive, Chiodos or BVB and we didn't want to take front row space from someone who did, so we went to look at the merch. FVK to the best of my knowledge had done all their own merch sales to this point so we were partly being nosey about who was doing merch to be honest. We didn't recognise the guy instantly but when we got talking to him I clicked that he was probably Steve (not Stevie D,  a different Steve whose last name eludes me at this precise moment), their manager at the time, and when he asked if we knew who he was I told him so. I was right. He also told us that he knew who we were because the lads had talked about us, which made me 50% proud 50% incredibly embarrassed.

Outside after the gig was odd because a lot of the people waiting to talk to FVK didn't really know who they were, having seen them for the first time that night. I was determined to talk to Pill because this was the first time I'd felt confident enough to talk to him about the whole wanting to end myself thing and I wanted him to know that he'd...helped me, I suppose, in the oddest way possible. I made my way over to him and waited to have a word with him. (He'd also been a total babe and on the 10th of January when I was super low during the daytime I'd tweeted him saying I needed a hug and he replied with "I'm pushing my face against my phone xxx" which I had totally needed. When I thanked him for doing that he laughed, and went “I actually did that!”) I eventually like sidled closer and gave him a huge squish and told him I had something to tell him. I started by saying something like "Last November I almost killed myself." to which he responded with "I didn't know that!" My reply was brutally honest and even I wasn't expecting it to come out of my mouth: "I know, Pill, no-one did, because I was actually going to do it." I might be completely wrong here but by the time I'd finished talking Pill looked genuinely quite emotional and he ended up just hugging my head and telling me he was really glad I was still here. He also showed me his new tattoo, which was a shark fin on the inside of his wrist and informed me that it was the most painful one he’d ever gotten and that “if you ever get a tattoo there…don’t.” 

 I was going to tell Beveridge the same thing I’d told Pill this night but I decided against it because by the time I got to talk to him there were very few people around and I didn't want to make a huge thing of it.

I asked Pill for a drumstick just before the guys left, and he ended up getting told off for scrabbling around in the back of the van trying to find me one when all the lads wanted to leave. I informed him we'd be in Liverpool and to give me one then and he eventually gave up and got in the van.

Until next time,

Meg Mercury xoxo

An Ashes show, London, 14th January 2013.

On the 10^th of January 2013, I went to see Ashestoangels in Birmingham. It had taken a lot of soul searching for me to decide to go to the show, because the 10^th of January is the anniversary of my Dad’s death, and although it has now been 16 years, the actual date still hits me hard. Davey eventually convinced me to go (for he was still in the band then) by telling me he’d look after me, and I decided I’d rather be doing something than sitting at home being sad. I remember Wintervention but not much else, which is quite often the case with Ashes sets cos Wintervention is my fave and I always try and be at the front for that song. The only reason I’m even mentioning this gig is because of what happened after the show when we were all sitting around whilst the band packed up and loaded out. I don’t know how it came about but I happened to overhear Crilly say “I’m going to rugby tackle Kier on Sunday” at which point I spun my head around so fast I almost snapped my own neck. It turned out that FVK were going to be at the London Ashes show, which fell on a Sunday I was due to be working. I immediately texted my friend Vicki, who was the only other person at my work who was doing Sundays at that point and asked if she’d shift swap with me to allow me to go to London. She replied saying she couldn’t swap and I stood up and ran out of the room to go and stand in the fresh air for a minute in the hopes that it’d stop me crying. It didn’t. About ten seconds later Falkor appeared and pulled me into a hug. It turned out that Louise had told them about Dad and apparently both Falkor and Jim were both so concerned about me they both went to follow me but Falkor got there first. I don’t remember much of what was said between us but I remember him telling me that he missed the guys too and he totally understood that I wanted to see them. 

Anyway, there was no way in hell that I was going to miss seeing the guys after so long, so I ended up buying a train ticket to London for something like about ten to five and locked up the shop ten minutes early to go to the show. (Don’t tell my boss about the locking up early bit.)

Louise and Annabel met me at the train station and we walked to the venue. Actually we didn't, we walked to King's Cross and had photos taken at Platform 9 3/4 because it was on the way to the venue. When we got there a band that turned out to be Ugly Love (but I didn't actually make this realisation until much much later) were playing. FVK had arrived about five minutes before us, and when we headed down to watch what turned out to be Ugly Love we bumped into Pill on the stairs. I squished him so hard I thought my arms were going to come off. After pestering Pill for an undetermined amount of time we carried on down the stairs to watch Ugly Love and I stood behind Beveridge pretending not to know it was Beveridge, because I didn't know how to say hello or draw attention to myself without going "HI I CAME TO SEE YOU BECAUSE I MISSED YOUR FACE SO MUCH". In the end Falkor appeared and gave me a hug and started swaying me from side to side and he managed to sway me into Beveridge, who turned around, allowing me to finally say hello without having to fully explain myself. I didn't really talk to any of the guys much until after the show, and the main things I remember are giving Beveridge a bunch of presents I'd bought him for Christmas but hadn't given him cos I hadn't seen him (obviously) and just...not letting go of Pill. Seriously, there are so many photos of me from that night where I'm just wrapped around Pill's middle because I just didn't want to let go.

He didn't know at this point about the whole almost ending myself thing so he probably thought I was just particularly insane that night, but he took it well bless him. In fact, it was this night that he told me that they were playing Download again, but as soon as he'd said it he looked at me with an expression of pure fear on his face and said "Actually... don’t tell anyone that. Don't say I told you. Don't even tell the rest of the band you know. They'd kill me." This was also the night he told me he ate ice cos he caught me doing it. He didn't tell me I couldn't tell anyone about that though.

My absolute favourite memory of this night is Could We Burn, Darling? coming on the music channel that was playing on the screens in the venue. I happened to turn around and notice and I just grabbed Beveridge’s arm and pointed. He muttered something like “Oh no” and looked like he wanted to curl into a ball and hide. Pill, who noticed what was happening a split second later, stood on a stool and shouted “LOOK, THAT’S ME!!”

Until next time,

Meg Mercury xoxo