Public Speaking – Wayne 48

[For a quick guide go here: Quick guide.

For back story go here: Story so far at 30 Nov 2020 and more recent Wayne episodes especially this one.]

[Other back story through in-links.]

Wayne and Dave were scrolling through the latest Instagram post replies. 

“That’s sixty-eight asking for your favourite recipe,” said Dave, keeping count.

“Savoury or sweet?” asked Wayne.

“It’s an even split,” said Dave. “Seriously do they really want that in a documentary about you?”

“It’s Instagram,” noted Wayne. “Bit biased towards food pictures.”

“User 578629 wants to see your underwear, I take it that’s not a possibility?”

“MeganExOneVoice wants to know how I feel about talent contests and the commercialisation of new singers. That might be a bit deep. Or interesting. Or off topic.”

Dave sighed. “Is this getting us anywhere?” He asked.

“This person wants to know my inspiration,” said Wayne. “Maybe that’s the thing to follow.”

“Inspiration? Like what?”

“Like… life?” said Wayne.

He could see it now. Gritty, urban walks around certain buildings and down certain streets. His own voiceover giving an insight into what it was like as a teenager growing up in this place. The dirt, the people, the tension. The fights – and yeah, ok he could invent a couple of those if need be.

“But isn’t that what we were trying to get away from?” asked Dave. “You were saying Phillis doesn’t know about your childhood – who does? It just comes down to you and some buildings.”

Wayne considered this. “Yeah,” he said, “I think I can live with that.”

MacCabe was getting a bit tetchy towards them by now. He was keen - perhaps overly keen - to get the ball rolling and at least put together some kind of rough plan and video to sketch what would be this ground-breaking documentary. His backers were beginning to get cold feet, suggesting that just because he was talking to ManzDown didn’t actually mean the thing was in the can. But MacCabe was not going to let this drop and go on the hunt for someone else, indeed he felt he wasn’t that far away from getting Wayne entirely on board, and frankly he’d do anything to get it over the line. 

Wayne, on the other hand, didn’t feel the absolute need to deliver on this project. There were other fish to fry. Jezzy was hassling him for the next experiment in music. Cath was trying to line up more activities as the lockdown eased and promoters and venues looked for outstanding events to schedule to make the most of what could be an awesome summer. But it was difficult to make these plans because at the centre of it Wayne was lodged in a well of uncertainty.

Maybe it was the changing seasons. Perhaps it was the slow steady lifting of restrictions and the promise of ‘normal’ life which for some reason seemed to be complicating the non-normal life they’d be working with recently. Maybe it was just that he was wearing weird clothes that still made him uncomfortable and uncertain of who he was.

“You know what I reckon?” said Dave. “I think you should do it all.”

“What?”

“All of it, honestly,” said Dave. “Take every suggestion that’s listed down here and do it - to what ever extent you can, but just do it.”

“It’ll be disastrous,” said Wayne. “It’ll be a huge, rambling mess of a disaster.”

“Not necessarily,” said Dave. “Because you do it all, look at it all and then piece it together so it looks like you planned it all along.”

“You can do that?”

“Don’t see why not,” said Dave. “MacCabe seems like a good director who knows what he’s doing. I would have thought it would suit him down to the ground. Get to see everything and then take what he wants. And what you want.”

“Not everything though,” said Wayne. “The underwear is still off limits.”

Dave went to make a few phone calls and Wayne continued to trawl through the requests for personal information he’d elicited from his social media followers. Great though it was to get this level of confirmation and attention it was still adding to his sense of uncertainty. Maybe it was just the fact that he’d barely see anyone all year, that as time had gone by he reckoned he’d seen fewer people rather than more, and that his geographical reference had become Dave’s flat. And now all these people were out there, ready and willing to get a piece of him given half a chance.

He told himself it was the product of having finally created a good online presence, the ability to appeal to everyone or at least a lot of people, and to do it at a time when it was important to everyone. This time last year he could barely take a selfie with him in it, now he knew how to make no filter look good.

Resolute, he started cutting and pasting his public’s ideas into a new document ready to send to MacCabe – the blueprint, the raw material of his filmatic self.