The Who? – Wayne 13

[For back story go here: Story so far at 12 June 2020 and more recents Wayne episodes]

"Hey, there Sandy, thanks for making contact. Yeah let's hook up - I have some ideas to try out.”

It was just bad luck that it was Wayne who saw the message first. Just bad luck that it came at a point when he was feeling uncertain of what he should do next. When he was trying to decide whether to do a Kickstarter initiative to get his own material out there, or open a Patreon account to support himself or just bite the bullet and try and do a more traditional model of music publishing, only deliver it himself.

“Who’s Sandy?” he asked Dave, his teeth already beginning to be set on edge with the mere mention of the name.

“Sandy who?” asked Dave.

“That’s what I’m asking,” clarified Wayne.

“I don’t know a Sandy,” said Dave, off-hand and clearly forgetting.

“But you’re going to hook up and try some ideas out.”

Dave waited for a further explanation. Wayne handed him the phone.

“I’ll talk to you about looking at my phone without permission later,” said Dave.

“Why? Because you’re afraid of who else I’ll find?” snapped back Wayne, in no mood for taking flack.

“Right. Sandy. Sandy is someone I’ve barely met… indeed, not met in real life.”

“I can see that. She’s getting in touch with you through a dating app!” said Wayne, forcibly. “Why are you on a dating app and why are you trying to find someone through a dating app and… who are you?”

Dave closed his eyes to better formulate his answer, to begin at the beginning of the story.

“Do you have any idea what I’ve given up?” Wayne threw in.

Dave opened his eyes. “Wait. Wait. What is this about? Is this about you and me or you and your ego?”

“My ego..?”

“Are you trying to score points? Are you blaming me because you’d been dropped by your record company? Blaming me because there are intolerant people out there who…”

“I just want to know who Sandy is and why you’re talking to her.”

“So you can tell me how much you’ve suffered? Not so you can tell me how you feel about me, but how you feel about your career?”

Wayne paused, choosing to pause this onslaught for breath rather than letting everything roll on into a circular disaster. What the hell was going on? He’d never argued like this before with anyone about anything and he wasn’t certain where it was going to go. Yes he’d had disagreements but usually everyone saw things his way (because face it, it’s what worked) but this was so so very different from all of that he didn’t know what to do with it.

Dave meanwhile took the opportunity to try and defuse this ticking situation. 

“So,” he said. “A while ago I help host an online party, okay? It was going to be just me and a few mates but it got a bit out of control. Someone dropped the details on twitter or something, I’m not certain what or how or who, but it got out there and as a result we had about 150 people trying to join us.”

Wayne was looking bored. “No sign of Sandy yet,” he observed.

“She was one of the people who invited themselves,” preserved Dave. “She just turned up.”

“Don’t tell me, one thing led to another…”

“So we’re in our different locations, no one’s getting into anyone’s personal space. She and I had a chat, OK? Over screens. Turns out she was a marketing person and was looking for extra work because of lockdown – which wasn’t exactly unsurprising so I gave her my details and said to keep in touch.”

“Right…”

“Anyway, later on I get this invitation to test out a new app that seems to be trying to match people up for, you know, romance and stuff, during the pandemic. Or, because frankly they’re a bit late, they want to do it for people coming out of lockdown and going out into the world again. It’s got her name attached to the invite so I downloaded it.”

“You downloaded a dating app?”

“It was a favour and at that point I was single,” noted Dave. “Last week I got a notification from this thing saying Sandra’s a match – which I ignored – and then she gets in touch with me because she wants to launch this thing online and remembered the party I held. So she wants advice, that’s all. Those are the ideas to try out. That’s it.”

Dave looked at Wayne. Wayne closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

“What’s the app called?” He asked. “If there is an app.”

“Together…. Apart,” said Dave. “Or the same but the other way round. I can show you.”

“Nah, it’s alright,” said Wayne getting up. “Party, marketing, app. I don’t believe a word.”

He walked across Dave’s sitting room. Feeling a sudden flare of rage as he went he took the acoustic guitar from where it leant against a stylish but minimal chair, flung it by the neck and smashed it against the door frame on his way out.

Wayne dropped the splintering instrument and left to go upstairs to his flat. Dave felt his heart sink, but also noted a hint of pride. He loved how rock ’n' roll Wayne was becoming.