Jump to content
Existing user? Sign In

Sign In



Sign Up

female Centre Stage


Recommended Posts

Hey all, haven't written a story in a while. I really enjoyed writing the last one, so I decided to do it again, this is only a short one this is chapter one of two, the second part hopefully coming in about a week's time. Here we go:

Centre Stage

Chapter One: A Bio

At the age of twenty-two I was getting a taste of what glamour felt like and it was a little bit addictive. Don't get me wrong, I'm hardly super famous, but I am able to say that I have been on tour and had a top forty album, and not everyone gets to say that. Yes, the silly little band that my brother and I are in is starting to get recognised. We haven't made it big time by any definition, I mean when we played Glastonbury it was on the Introducing stage (which is still really cool), our second EP made #36 on the album charts and our tour wasn't exactly a sell out. I can't stress enough how small our success was in the grand scheme of things, but it's still success.

 

 

And the reason I called it a silly little band is because that's how it felt for a long time. I should add, I wasn't involved from the very beginning. My twin brother, Alex, started the band with his friends from the band room in school when we were eighteen, and at the time it was all guys. After a little while, Alex told me they were interested in having a chick singer and whether I wanted to join. Those are the exact words he used; chick singer. Which is initially why I didn't want to do it, because I could see exactly where they were going with it. A pop-punk band with a female vocalist has been done before, and I was worried that audiences would think we were just trying to be Paramore. However, it obviously worked because four years later, here we are.

 

 

So that's me, Beth Church, I'm twenty-two and I'm lead singer of semi-pro Pop-Punk band Full Charge. I guess I sort of look the part. I'm short, skinny, blonde and very pretty (if I'm allowed to say that). I'm living a life that I never thought I would be living, and every now and then I am reminded of that by having really cool things happen to me that are out of the ordinary. Sure, I get up on stage and sing and people dance and often sing our songs along with us (which is really something), but I'm used to that. It's things like being interviewed, and people asking for selfies that really throw me and remind me that people are actually starting to know who I am.

 

 

At a gig recently, a girl and her friend came up with a camera and said that they were making a video about the gig and asked whether I would be interested in doing a little Q&A, to which I said yes, obviously. They wanted me for their video, younger me would never have imagined it. Anyway, the interview itself was important because one of the questions they asked me brought up something that I don't often like to talk about. They asked me all the usual stuff, whether I was looking forward to the gig, how the band first started, what it felt like to be in the album charts, all of which I had answers for. But then she asked me about the thing that is, I have to be honest, my least favourite thing about being in the band. She asked me what it was like, as a woman, to be travelling around with a bunch of guys.

 

 

Now, I love my band mates, I honestly do we're all really good friends, and not once have any of them ever made any advances or deliberately made me uncomfortable.  But I never quite got used to it, I never quite got comfortable. I'm a pretty private person anyway, so I guess it has less to do with being a woman, but I'm sure gender did at least play a small part.

 

 

I gave her a pretty vague answer about how sometimes it was a bit awkward having to share dressing rooms with them and stuff, which was true, but my insecurities go a lot deeper than that, and it reminded me of a particular story that I will never forget.

 

 

During our last tour we did thirteen consecutive nights, so as you can imagine there was a bit of a pattern. Travel to a gig, play the gig, stay in a hotel, shove food down our mouths, move on to the next gig and so on. I'm not great at travelling anyway, I'm the person that usually asks if we can stop because I need a wee, but most of the time it's fine we usually stop at least once and if not I just hold it until we get there.

 

 

One particular day we had to travel from a gig in Sheffield to a gig in Canterbury, it was the longest journey on the tour and so as we sat eating our lunch in a pub close to the hotel, we discussed the journey ahead.

 

 

"We may have to stop a couple of times" said Josh, who plays lead Guitar in the band "we may be cutting it a bit close, but I think we'll be ok."

 

 

Bearing in mind it was half past twelve at that point and the gig started at seven. Venues normally want us there a couple of hours before to do sound check, and it was at this point that we wondered if maybe we should have got up and left a bit sooner.

 

 

"We'll make it" said Alex, my brother (he also played Guitar in the band).

 

 

"My only worry is we don't to rush the sound check" said Dan (the drummer) "I would suggest if we do stop we make them very quick stops."

 

 

I didn't like to say anything, because I sometimes feel a bit awkward, but the way Dan was talking it sounded as though he would rather not stop at all, which worried me greatly. I had already had a coffee with my breakfast this morning, and was sitting here drinking a coke with my lunch, which I didn't really want but when I was asked what I wanted to drink I didn't really want to say nothing so I ordered one. If we decided not to stop I would be in big trouble.

 

 

So we set off about one o'clock and I did that thing where I waited until the very last minute before I went to the toilet, and even after I finished peeing I sat on the toilet for a bit longer, letting every last drop out just to get my bladder as empty as I could. And then we were off. 

Edited by Dale Miller (see edit history)
Link to comment

And here is Chapter two, the conclusion to this story. I hope you like it :smile:

 

Chapter Two: Beth The Martyr 

Two and a half hours into the journey and we made our first stop at a motorway service station. I don't know if it was one we had stopped at already on this tour, or whether we had stopped at so many that they were all beginning to look the same, but I seemed to get out of the van and immediately know where to go. That and the fact that I needed to pee really bad made sure I wasted no time.

 

 

We had a rule in regards to stopping, which was that at least one person had to stay with the van at all times. It was a bit unfortunate because it meant someone had to hold it until they were absolutely bursting, but we had a van full of stuff that might get stolen if we left it unattended and it wasn't worth the risk.

 

 

However, on this occasion, I was adamant that I was not gonna stay with the van. When  Josh asked who was gonna stay behind I quite bluntly said "Not me." And at the time I meant it, I had needed to pee for two hours and we still had a way to go, I was not gonna hold it in. However, once I had made it to the toilet and got over how great it felt to finally relieve myself, I felt bad for being so inconsiderate. It was Josh, who was driving, that volunteered to stay in the end, which just made me feel even worse. So as I sat there, looking at the advert for sanitary pads on the inside of the toilet door, I decided I would be the one to stay in the van the next time we stopped.

 

 

On the way out I also decided to buy a bottle of water, which might sound like the stupidest thing I could have done, but I really thought that I would be ok, I hadn't had anything to drink for nearly two hours, I'd only had two things to drink that day and I had already emptied by bladder which had been quite full. I thought if I just took little sips I would be ok, I would make it to the gig.

 

 

Well, when we all piled back in to the van I put the final nail in the coffin, which was to make the promise that I said I would. I volunteered to stay with the van the next time we stopped. I regretted it as soon as I said it, but I needed to rid myself of the guilt of making Josh be the one to wait.

 

 

The rest of the journey was about as predictable as it gets, sipping my water accidentally turned into drinking half the bottle and before long, I felt the need to pee again. And as you can imagine, we got stuck in traffic. Great. This is great, I thought. I'm gonna piss myself in a rental van surrounded by a bunch of guys I'm supposed to go on stage with tonight. It got to five o'clock, which is when we should have really been at the venue and ready to set up, and we still weren't there. Half past five, still not there and by this point I am desperate to pee and so is everyone else in the van, especially Josh who didn't get to go the first time round. It's for that reason, that I kept quiet about my desperation. Six o'clock and we still were not there, we were an hour late!

 

 

"Fuck, sorry guys" Josh said "But I'm gonna have to stop, I really need a piss and I can't concentrate."

 

 

"It's alright" said Adam, the bass player "We all need to go, we might as well all get out."

 

 

I felt elated at the thought of it, for a brief moment I thought they had forgotten about my promise, forgotten about the rule, and were inviting me to get out with them.  

 

 

"Beth" Alex said, turning to me, looking apologetic "Are you still alright to stay with the van?"

 

 

Damn.

 

 

"Yeah" I said. I mean, I did say I would.

 

 

Josh pulled up in a lay-by, and the guys all got out and disappeared into the trees, leaving me sitting there with an aching bladder, wishing I could join them, which was a very bizarre thing to wish, but that was how it was.

 

 

I sat there and contemplated my situation. I thought about maybe getting out and squatting next to the van. I had never been very good at peeing outside, but I was considering it. I wouldn't technically be leaving the van. But then I thought about how mortified I would be if the guys saw me. If I heard them coming back but couldn't stop the flow, and they all saw me, pants down, exposing my arse to them with pee coming out full force. Then I thought about emptying my water bottle, and quickly peeing in that before the guys came back. I realised it would not be practical, and plus I would have the same problem as before. What if the guys came back and saw me with knickers down and a bottle pressed against my lips? And then I would panic, but still would not be able to stop the flow and I would pee all over the seat. After much thought, I decided I would just hold it, the venue was not that far away now after all.

 

 

The guys came back looking mighty relieved, and I felt very jealous. We carried on to the gig which we were now extremely late for, the venue had been calling us repeatedly asking where we were, and we had repeatedly told them we got stuck in traffic.

 

 

At half past six, half an hour before we were due on stage, we arrived. I no longer cared about the gig, the gig was currently number two on my list of priorities. Number one was to find a toilet and pee like I've never peed before.

 

 

However, the events manager was understandably freaking out and basically threw us through the stage door without any niceties or any kind of introduction, didn't show us our dressing room or anything, he got us all on the stage, he got about half of the venue staff bringing our stuff in from the van and all of us working on what was to be possibly a world record for the fastest set-up and sound check. And I still had not been to the toilet. Every time I opened my mouth to ask if I could go, someone was giving me another task to do.

 

 

But, against all the odds, we did it. We got set up and we did our sound check and we were ready to go. This meant I could go pee now right? Except I couldn't. It was seven o'clock and it was time to start the gig. The house lights went down and the events manager was on the stage introducing us. The crowd cheered, and the band started the first bar of the opening song. And I still had to pee, I had to pee so bad but I couldn't. I had to switch my stage persona on and perform for an hour and a half.

 

 

With every number, the main became worse. I wanted to hold myself, and squeeze my legs together but I couldn't, I had to be the singer that everyone had come to see. I wanted to moan, I felt like crying with the pain, but I didn't. I just kept singing the numbers the crowd wanted to hear.

 

 

This show felt like it was going on forever. I usually don't check the time while I'm on stage because the shows seem to fly by because I'm usually having the time of my life. However, on this occasion I decided to take a look because it felt like I had been up here forever, surely I could get off stage and pee soon? I still had another hour. I was going to wet myself on stage, I knew it. I would not be able to control my bladder any more, it would start to run down my legs, and people in the crowd would start to notice. They would start pointing and laughing, and then the band would stop playing, and everyone in the band would start pointing and laughing, and I would just stand there, crying and peeing myself at the same time, before running off stage. And then the next day, pictures would surface all over the internet of me, standing on stage with my jeans all wet and a puddle forming on the stage around my boots.

 

 

The thought of that was enough to make me keep going. That was not going to happen, if I had to put my hand between my legs on stage then so be it, if I had to say to the crowd "Just so you know, I really have to pee, but I'm gonna keep going for you guys!" then I would. It would probably get a cheer, and even that might surface on the internet tomorrow, someone might write an article saying that I care about our audience so much that I will even endure absolute agony just so the fans can get a good show. But from that moment, I decided one thing. I was not going to wet myself on stage tonight.

 

 

And I didn't. It was painful, it was the worst gig I have ever done, but we got the end and still, not a single drop had left my body. We took a bow and we went off stage, but the crowd were cheering for more. They wanted an encore. I had not planned on this. Now I was off stage, I could finally behave like a person who was desperate to pee. I squeezed my legs together, and held myself, willing my bladder to hold on just a bit longer.

 

 

"Beth!" Alex shouted at me, I hadn't noticed that the band were all standing in the wings right by the stage, ready to go on "we're going back on!"

 

 

"I can't!" I said, I was finally losing it.

 

 

"What?" he said.

 

 

"I...agh!" I was not gonna make it "Fuck, I really need a piss!"

 

 

"Just one more number then you can go" said Dan.

 

 

I thought about the hypothetical article. About Beth the Martyr. The lead singer who will endure torture for her fans. I remembered the promise I made to myself. I was not going to wet myself on stage tonight.

 

 

And so we went out, I switched my stage persona back on and we did our last number. We always closed our shows with the closing track of our first EP, a song called The Attic Room. On the EP it was only a three minute song, but the live version can go on for a bit longer as we let the crowd sing a couple of choruses to themselves. Tonight it lasted seven minutes. The crowd had really loved us. I said a last farewell before we went off stage.

"Good night, and thank you!" I shouted "We'll see you out by the merch table in about twenty minutes!"

 

 

I wasn't sure twenty minutes would be enough, I was planning on peeing for a long time. The rest of the band had already gone offstage, presumably to go and use the toilet themselves. I wondered off stage and started thinking, fast. What was I gonna do? Dressing rooms usually have one toilet that we all have to share, and the guys will undoubtedly have already started a queue. Hell, I didn't even know where the dressing room was, we hadn't been there yet, maybe the guys had just gone to look for it. I only knew one thing, I had to pee and I had to pee right then. So the first opportunity I spotted would be the one I took.

 

 

A cleaning cupboard had been left open backstage, and sitting in there was a mop bucket. That was it. I was gonna pee in the bucket. I went inside, turned the light on and closed the door. It was small, it was claustrophobic, but I didn't care. The cleaner would probably come back soon, and might walk in on me while I'm peeing in their bucket, I still didn't care.

 

 

Acting quickly, I decided the most practical way would be to remove all my clothing from my waist down, so my boots came off, then my jeans and then my knickers. I was half naked, my back side and vagina exposed. The cleaner could walk in at any time. I remove the mop from the empty bucket, spread my legs and apply the pressure. It hurts at first, a lot. But it comes out like a jet wash. I moan loudly, anyone that walked past this cupboard right now would know exactly what was going on from the sound alone. It hit the bottom of the bucket and made the most almighty sound. As it was filling, the stream was now hitting the surface of the pee rather than the bottom of the bucket, if I shut my eyes I could listen to the tinkling and I could almost pretend I was peeing in a toilet. Now the stream had slowed down and the pain had gone away, I could finally enjoy the pee and take delight in my relief. I moaned again but this time out of pleasure rather than pain. It was fucking fantastic.

 

 

I did, indeed, pee for a long time, and I knew I was done only when the stream stopped. I sat for a bit longer, letting the last few drops go, and then I got dressed. The cleaner didn't walk in on me after all. I admit, I felt a little bit guilty about just leaving the pee sitting there in the bucket, but then I realised that cleaners have to deal with piss every single day, so I figured this was just one urine-related problem on top of the several others they probably had to sort out.

 

 

I walked out of the cupboard, more relieved than I have ever been before. I go to find the others, who will probably ask me where I've been, and I decided I'll probably tell them the truth. That's life on the road after all.

Edited by Dale Miller (see edit history)
Link to comment

Join the conversation

You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.
Note: Your post will require moderator approval before it will be visible.

Guest
Reply to this topic...

×   Pasted as rich text.   Paste as plain text instead

  Only 75 emoji are allowed.

×   Your link has been automatically embedded.   Display as a link instead

×   Your previous content has been restored.   Clear editor

×   You cannot paste images directly. Upload or insert images from URL.

  • Recently Browsing   0 members

    • No registered users viewing this page.
×
×
  • Create New...