Chapter Text
“Come on Charlie, don’t bail on us now,” Tao scowled at him from the screen of his phone.
Charlie stared at himself in the little rectangle in the corner. He needed a haircut. And god, the eye bags were visible a mile off; the endless nights lying awake overthinking were beginning to take their toll. He scratched at his jaw, self-consciously.
“Charlieeeee!” Elle’s voice cut in. “Babe, we need you there! Come on, we can still have our summer of fun! Even more fun now that, well, you know--”
“That prick ,” interrupted Tao.
She huffed exaggeratedly and shushed Tao with a kiss. “Now that Ben is out of the picture.”
Watching the two of them made Charlie feel more single than ever. It wasn’t as if he missed Ben, exactly. He definitely didn’t miss the subtle put-downs, or the way he pretended not to know him in public. And it wasn’t even like Charlie wanted to get back together with him, not after the incident in the student union (thank god that Isaac had done the unthinkable that day and left his book behind after his shift at the bar), it was more that the summer felt tainted now, less golden.
“Earth to Charlie?” Tao was asking, and he tuned back into the conversation.
“I was just saying babe, my sister has a tent you can borrow, and we can easily sell your other ticket last-minute, it’s been sold out for weeks now!” Elle wasn’t giving up without a fight.
The original plan, of course, had been to go with Ben, the four of them together, Charlie’s first festival experience. Charlie had hoped that this weekend away might have been the start of a better friendship between Ben, Tao, and Elle. Ben had shattered those plans by cheating on him with Imogen. And then lying about it. And then…
Charlie pushed the unwanted memories out of his mind. Back to the issue at hand. Maybe he should go, after all? It could be a way to start fresh, to rekindle the spark he knew he’d lost along the way. It was better than spending all weekend sitting inside at his parent’s house, playing Mario Kart with Olly, after all. He had the rest of the summer ahead to do that.
“Isaac is compering the literary tent on Friday, he can get us into the VIP section after,” Elle was saying. “Charlie, pleeeeease? I can come round tomorrow and help you choose your outfits if you want?”
He sighed, and found himself agreeing.
As promised, Elle arrived the next day and the two of them spread the contents of his wardrobe over his bed and halfway across the floor of his room.
“What about this one?” Elle asked, holding up a t- shirt she’d cropped for him the summer before. Charlie gave a humourless laugh.
“Oh, Ben hated when I showed my stomach, he said it made me look ‘too gay.’” He waved his fingers in air quotes.
Elle rolled her eyes. “That fucker,” she muttered, “he didn’t deserve you. Try it on for me?”
He obliged and pulled the shirt over his head.
“Just as I suspected,” she grinned, “you look hot, babe.” She pulled him over to the mirror and stood behind him as he took in his reflection.
He tried to see himself through her uncritical eyes. Okay, maybe his legs did look good in those jeans. And the crop helped accentuate his waist. He stood up a little straighter, and she caught his eye and nodded approvingly.
“Charlie, any boy would be lucky to have you,” she said, and kissed him on the cheek. “Now help me out, do you have anything with sequins? Or am I going to have to get the sewing machine out?”
Charlie chuckled and gestured towards the reject pile, languishing at the bottom of his wardrobe. “There’s probably an ugly Christmas jumper somewhere in there with jingle bells on,” he grinned.
She gave an elaborate sigh, and flopped backwards onto his bed, slinging her arm across her face. “I’m offended at the thought of it," she said, sounding pained.
Charlie slumped down next to her, and she took her hand, absently running a thumb across his knuckles as they lay side-by-side in contented silence for a moment.
“Charlie?” Elle asked, and he turned his head towards her. She chewed self-consciously on her bottom lip. “I’m glad we’ve got you back, babe.”
He smiled, and let her pull him into a warm hug. “Me too”, he said, muffled into her shoulder.
She ruffled his hair, and he sat up, in false outrage. “Hey!” he said, “Hands off the curls!”
Elle laughed delightedly. “I’ve decided,” she declared, grinning. “I’m going to make you a cape.”
The weekend of the festival quickly rolled around, and Charlie found himself helping his friends load Tao’s mum’s car with, what seemed to Charlie, like an extraordinary amount of camping gear for three people.
Tao and Yan were locked in a disagreement about just how much of the 12-roll pack of toilet paper they needed to take with them (Tao argued that the full pack was excessive, but was losing the fight) while Charlie and Elle wedged in the second 2-man tent into the boot, next to the camping stove.
“It’ll be fine babe, we can rent a trolley when we get there,” said Elle placatingly, as her boyfriend admitted defeat and watched Yan triumphantly shove the packet into the backseat footwell.
They piled into the car, Elle riding shotgun and Charlie squeezed in the back next to their rucksacks. It was warm, and Charlie closed his eyes, letting the playlist that Tao had made for the journey wash over him. He focused on channeling his low-level anxiety about the festival into excitement. A weekend with two of his favourite people, dancing, listening to music, feeling like himself again. This was going to be good.
Soon, the drive was over, and they’d loaded up a trolley, collected their wristbands and were headed for the campsite. A sea of canvas stretched before them; blues and greens, with white gazebos dotted between. Tao led the way, looking for his idea of a perfect pitch. They found space near a group of friendly girls, already set up with a tinny-sounding speaker and a coolbox, who offered them a beer as they passed by.
It wasn’t long before their tents were up, and Tao busied himself with the guy ropes while Elle decorated with solar-powered fairy lights, and a rainbow jolly roger flag. Charlie unrolled sleeping mats and sleeping bags, and finally, they had their cosy home for the weekend.
Elle was busy applying glitter to Charlie’s cheekbones when Tao ambled back from the campsite toilets, grimacing.
“If they’re this bad already, brace yourself for Sunday,” he warned, with a laugh.
“You’ve got to embrace the grunge,” grinned Elle, and patted the ground next to her for Tao to come and be glittered.
Once appropriately adorned, they headed out to explore the main site. The walk in felt to Charlie like a surreal village market, with thousands of people milling around, buying merch, accessories, and jewellery. He nearly lost Elle entirely due to one of the vintage stalls, where she emerged delighted with armfuls of spangly clothing. Tao bought a new bucket hat, and Charlie opted to simply soak in the atmosphere.
The long path spilled out into a sprawling collection of arena tents, with the main stage high on the hill in the distance. They found a patch of grass in the shade and lounged for a while, aimlessly watching the constant stream of people walking past.
“There’s not much on today,” Tao explained to the others, “but the guy on the hat stall said there’s a party in the woods tonight. I reckon we should check it out?”
The woods felt like magic.
Charlie gazed up into the branches as the flashing lights danced off the leaves above him. He felt pleasantly buzzed, thanks to the girls back at the campsite, and watched as Elle sparkled and twirled like a psychedelic butterfly, pulling Tao into her dance. The bass was loud, and Charlie loved the way he could feel it in his bones, in his chest. They danced and drank into the early hours, before returning, stumbling, laughing, to their tents. It might have been a dream, but Charlie half-remembered locking eyes with a beautiful stranger, standing at the bar, his hair haloed in the light. He had turned away for a moment to check on Tao, but when he looked back, the stranger was gone.
The bottled water they’d packed did little to assuage the hangover the next morning. Neither did the morning summer sunlight streaming through the tent and (or so it felt) directly into Charlie’s eyeballs. He crawled out of the tent in a desperate search for caffeine, and returned with a tray of lattes to find Tao in his sunglasses, attempting to grill bacon.
“Morning,” Charlie croaked, and Tao waved his spatula in greeting.
Eventually the smell of bacon and coffee lured Elle out of the tent too, and, after a quick babywipe shower, they began to feel more human.
“What’s the plan for today, gang?” Elle asked the boys.
Charlie waved his phone. “Isaac’s just texted me, he’s starting at half ten. Want to head over for then?”
“Perfect,” she agreed. “What time is it now?”
“Just past eight,” replied Tao.
“Fabulous,” said Elle, crawling back into their tent. “Time for a nap before we go.”
Elle emerged an hour later, looking radiant in the sequinned kimono she’d bought from the vintage stall. She styled Tao in a cream Cuban-collar shirt, and Charlie in his cropped tee, before adorning them both in yet more glitter. Tao pulled out a polaroid camera and snapped pictures of the three of them. Charlie had to admit, they all looked great.
By the time they got to the literary tent, his hangover was a distant memory. Charlie offered to grab some drinks before Isaac’s slot, and with their requests written in his phone, he went to join the queue.
He’d been lost in a daydream when he reached the front of the queue. The person in front of him stepped away to place their order, and he followed the friendly wave from the bar, only half paying attention to what was going on around him.
Charlie pushed back his sunglasses as he stepped under the awning, and arrived in front of the most gorgeous man he had ever seen. He could barely take in floppy blonde hair, golden freckles, and broad shoulders, as he found himself gazing into oddly familiar honey-brown eyes. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks as he let out a breathy, “Hi,” and inwardly cringed.
To his surprise, the man in front of him looked equally as flustered. “Hi,” he replied, and stared, slightly open-mouthed, at Charlie.
There was a clatter behind the bar, as one of the other bartenders threw an empty beer bottle into the glass bin. It startled them both, and the freckled bartender seemed to come back to his senses. “Hi,” he repeated, more certain this time. “What can I get for you?”