Heated Beat 01 - My Mate Jack (MM) (4 page)

January 5

11:00 p.m.

Will:
Are you taking the piss? I don’t want to know why you’re awake at 6:00 a.m. do I? STILL awake, I bet.

Thanks for your e-mail, mate. Sounds like you’re having the time of your life. Not surprised it took you THREE MONTHS to get back to me. Can’t believe Café Mambo head-hunted you. That’s so fucking cool! That place is more commercial than where you were before, right? What are you going to play? Are you gonna dip into the dark side and mix some house tunes?

Leeds is all good. My flat’s a bit grotty, but I’m moving into a house with a bunch of girls next year so it’s not so bad. You’d like them actually… the girls, that is. Leeds is full of them. The ratio is, like, 3:1. If I was straight, I’d have no excuse for being single. Cause, yeah. In answer to your subtle (not) question. I am still single. There’s some really cool clubs around here and I’ve hooked up with a few blokes, but nothing serious.

Oh, hey… if you’re taking on a new residency, when are you coming back to the UK? Your mum really missed you at Christmas. Think she had one too many port and lemons, ’cause she was chatting up my dad. (FYI: I had to bleach my ears after that.) Speak soon, mate

February 2

06:00 a.m.

Jack:
Did you seriously put a smiley face on the end of that e-mail? (And yeah, I DO know you sent it a month ago. Things have been mental)

Glad you’re still loving Leeds. And score for the girls. Bet they smell way better than a flat full of blokes. I’ve met a few birds, but like you… nothing serious. Haven’t got the time, you know? When I’m not playing I’m mixing or producing… or trying to get some fucking sleep. This island is crazy, man. It’s alive all night, then I feel weird about sleeping the day away when the sun is so bright. Feel like I should make the most of it.

My apartment is wicked. There’s a studio in the basement. I’m thinking of producing my own tracks. You’re right about Café Mambo being commercial. I can play the stuff they like, but those dirty beats we used to mix in that field in Surrey suit me better. Miss those days sometimes. Hey, you should come over. You get holidays, right?

February 5

09:45 p.m.

Will:
Hey, Jack. Yeah, I get holidays, but I’m a poor student, remember? I can’t afford the bus to the library, let alone a bloody flight. Thanks for the invite, though. Maybe after uni, if you’re still there.

FYI: I quite like the smell of sweaty men.

February 11

07:00 a.m.

Jack:
Dude, I’d pay for your flight, and you’d be staying with me, so it would be free. Come over. Please?

09:30 a.m.

Will:
Maybe next year. Are you coming home at all before summer? Maybe we could hit Glasto or something?

February 17

11:00 p.m.

Will:
Helloooo? Jack? You there?

March 1

10:30 p.m.

Will:
I take it you died and no one told me….

March 5

08:45 a.m.

Jack:
All right, all right. You’re worse than my mum, you know that? Sorry, mate. Been busy. I’m not at Café Mambo anymore. I got a gig at Pacha instead, five days a week, midnight till four, then I play at Insomniacs down the road until 8:00 a.m.

It’s crazy, but I like it. I’ve been doing some producing too. Signed a deal with XS to mix a compilation album for them. Should be out late this year. You’d better buy it!

So… when are you gonna come over? You can bring some mates, if you want. I checked the flight prices. It’s only fifty quid out of Luton.

10:00 a.m.

Will:
I live in Leeds, remember?

March 8

08:30 a.m.

Jack:
Okay, Leeds, then. Same price. Why are you being a dick? If you don’t want to come, just say so….

01:30 p.m.

Will:
Jack, I’m not being a dick, I’m just skint. I’m really pleased you signed a production deal, but some of us are living on Pot Noodle.

March 10

03:00 a.m.

Will:
Okay, maybe I am being a dick. I’m sorry. I DO want to come and see you, but it’s going to take some planning. I’ve got a job at the local gay bar (all rainbows and glitter, you’d love it). If I can save some spending money I’ll come over at the end of term.

09:00 a.m.

Jack:
Really? I’d like that. I miss you.

09:15 a.m.

Will:
Not doing drugs, are you?

10:00 p.m.

Will:
Jack????

March 12

08:15 a.m.

Jack:
LOL. NO. I’m not doing drugs. Just a bit of weed to help me sleep after a crazy gig. Though if I wanted to do other shit, I wouldn’t have to look far. I meant it, though. I do miss you. No one gets me like you do.

08:30 a.m.

Will:
Piss off, you soppy date. I’m just getting up, so I know you’re just getting in. Go to sleep, mate.

08:35 a.m.

Jack:
K.

May 11

02:30 p.m.

Will:
So, I booked my flight… July 30. Three days of fun in the sun. Hope you’re ready for a crowd of rowdy northerners. It’s okay for me to bring a couple of people, right? ’Cause once I showed that picture in
Mixmag
to my friends, they all want to come. Did you know you’re famous now?

May 12

08:47 a.m.

Jack:
You booked your flight? Nice one. ’Bout fucking time. And yeah, bring whoever you want. I’ve got a couple of spare beds and a couch. We’ll figure it out. Let me know the times. I’ll meet you at the airport if I can.

And fuck
Mixmag
. They called my stuff “grungy house”. WTF? Don’t buy that mag again. Ever.

11:00 a.m.

Will:
Yes, dear.

May 2003

Leeds. England.

W
ILL
SHUT
his laptop with the rueful frown he always found plastered on his face when communication with Jack went well… when Jack responded to an e-mail before so much time lapsed that Will forgot what they’d been talking about. The familiar banter—albeit strained by a separation Will was still getting used to—reminded him why he bothered, something that proved difficult whenever Will recalled the day he’d stood on Jack’s doorstep and waited for a good-bye that had never come….

“Earth to Will?”

Will blinked. Suki, his housemate, waved her hand in front of his face. “Hmm? Sorry. Didn’t hear you come in.”

Suki snorted. “So I see. Who are you daydreaming about? That hot accountant bloke again?”

“Evan? Fuck, no. I was thinking about our big summer trip, actually. I just told Jack we booked our flights.”

“Oooh. Get in! What did he say? Is he really cool with you bringing a bunch of girls to stay at his place?”

“Seems to be.” Will shrugged, though with Jack it was sometimes hard to tell. His e-mails fluctuated between total word vomit and nothing at all. “And he likes girls, so I’m sure he’ll be fine with you all taking over his place.”

Suki hummed. “I keep forgetting he’s straight. How long have you known him again?”

Will sloshed water into two mugs already loaded with tea bags, milk, and sugar. “Most of my life. He moved into the house next door a week after my mum died. I was six, I think, and he’d just turned seven.”

“That’s nice.” Suki hopped up onto the counter and claimed her tea. Will ruffled her spiky pink hair. She was his favorite flatmate, and he was looking forward to sharing an actual house with her next year. “He does know you’re gay, right? I mean, my cousin didn’t tell his mates back home for years. Couldn’t face it, even though he was out and proud up here.”

Will winced. He heard shit like that all the time, and it always reminded him how lucky he’d been with his dad and Jack. “He was the first person I ever told, actually. In fact, I think he knew before I did.”

“And he was all right with it? I don’t want to judge, but he looks like a bit of a lad. Doesn’t it ever get awkward?”

Will chuckled. All of Suki’s friends had gone gaga over Jack’s picture in the music magazine, and he couldn’t blame them. Life in the sunshine suited Jack. With his tanned, sculpted arms, he’d never looked hotter. “He was fine. Nothing bothers him. Reckon I could’ve told him I wanted a sex change and he wouldn’t have blinked.”

Bet he wouldn’t have shagged you, though.

Will hid his flush in his cup of tea. Thinking about
that
night often gave him a strange feeling inside. Stranger, even, than waking up naked in bed with Jack, both of them still sticky from the night before. That particular morning had felt oddly normal, but the days that followed had been weird—
Jack
had been weird. Will had wondered if he regretted what had happened between them. Not that Jack had been around to tell him, and when he’d ditched Will in favor of footie practice the morning Will was due to decamp to Leeds, Will had taken that as a sign: Jack was done, in more ways than one.