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