July 1997
“When are they going show them?” Dawn asked impatiently as she plopped down on the sofa beside her sister-in-law. Both girls agreed to get together that morning for the live variety show. While it was relatively early in the morning, they were both wide awake as they waited with bated breath to see Acid Reign’s very first televised performance.
Buffy was so proud of her husband. And Angel, as well. She couldn’t believe after trying for so long that their dream was actually coming together. It seemed that patience and determination really did pay off.
She looked at Dawn and answered, “I’m sure they’ll be up soon. Just be patient.”
“Don’t think he’s gonna screw up, do you?”
Buffy shook her head vehemently, “No. Definitely not. I think he’ll be perfect.”
*******
Spike paced the expanse of the green room nervously. It was a wasn’t a particularly large room. Longer than it was wide, It had a sofa against the wall, facing the television suspended from the ceiling. A coffee table covered with various entertainment magazines and a bowl of candies stood in front of the sofa. The walls were painted a supposedly calming shade of blue. Framed art prints adorned the walls. Mostly those of Warhol. If Spike wasn’t so nervous, he might have cracked a smile, imagining Buffy’s very vocal disdain of the artist.
Why did the show have to be live? And why did the rest of the band have to be so calm? He looked over at Angel, who was relaxed on the sofa, watching the television which, of course, was showing the TV show they were about to be on. He seemed completely at ease with this new situation. Or perhaps he was just better at concealing it. Maybe he was calm on the outside, but was an absolute wreck on the inside. It certainly would make Spike feel better about it. To know he wasn’t the only one fretting.
The four-man back up band looked reasonably calm, but then, it was likely that they worked with other bands in the past and this wasn’t their first time on television.
And the camera wouldn’t be focused on them. Like it would be on him.
Unfortunately, before he was allowed the opportunity to completely gather his nerves, one of the coordinators for the show popped her head into the green room. She held a clipboard in one hand and a headset around her ears. She listened briefly to the voice coming from her headset, before looking at Spike and the band, “Get ready, guys. You’re next.”
Oh, God. Spike gulped audibly.
******
The co-host of the show, Richard, motioned to the band after their performance. “Acid Reign, everybody.”
The audience cheered. Spike smiled, and gave a small bow in appreciation. He was beyond thrilled about how well everything went.
Richard looked back at Spike and Angel, “Come on down, boys.”
Spike and Angel left the band set up, leaving the back up band to begin the task of removing the equipment. They shook hands with Richard as they came up to the main stage, taking seats in the chairs provided for them. Richard’s co-hostess, Judy nodded to them, “Hi, Angel. Hi, Spike.”
Richard looked down, behind the desk, “We’ve got something for you. We’ve got-”
“Oh?” Spike asked, looking down at what Richard was reaching for.
Richard looked at them, continuing, “Because I didn’t go through all the figures before you, er, performed, right? Because, now, that’s your first performance on telly, right?”
Angel nodded, “That’s right.”
“The very first one. That was it,” Spike said, nodding.
“The very first?” Richard asked, again.
“You’ve seen it,” Spike said.
“But it’s, uh, obviously, you’ve…when you go to the States-”
The audience began to cheer. Richard stopped briefly to allow them time to quiet before continuing.
“When you hit the States,” Richard paused again, clearing his throat as he continued to wait for the enthusiastic crowd to calm. He cleared his throat again, and looked down at the aforementioned objects again before facing the two performers, “When you hit the States, you’ll probably be doing Lettermen, and Jay Leno, and all those, don’t forget.” He reached down, “Now the reason I say that is because your first single debuted in the States at number thirty-one on the charts.”
“Right,” Spike said, nodding.
“That was the first week. And, uh, I think the second week is now, uh, up to fifteen with a bullet.”
“That’s right.”
“So, they must be now making calls, saying, ‘hey, where are these guys-’”
Spike and Angel gave a small laugh.
“-get them over here.’ So, are you planning to go over there very shortly?”
“We have to go, uh, in about four weeks time,” Angel replied.
“Four weeks time,” Richard repeated. “It’s been a very, uh, quick rise, hasn’t it?”
Spike concurred, “It has.” And certainly had been. When he dreamed of this, he never expected such a quick success. He envisioned struggling and fighting for several years before anything remotely positive happened.
“Yeah, it has. Comparatively,” Angel said, nodding. “Very quickly. Very quickly.”
“Three singles,” Richard said, holding his fingers out, counting out the three. “The first two have gone number one on the national charts and things like that, so… But, when did you get together?”
Spike looked to Angel, waiting for confirmation. “It’s about…five years ago? And I guess, in this business, five years is an overnight success story so…”
“No, not necessarily. A lot of groups - a lot of groups break up after a couple of months. So you know-”
Angel laughed, “I’ve been in a few of them.”
“Have you?” Richard asked, with a smile. He pointed to the show’s band, “You should join our band, I tell you. Who’s in this week?” He looked over at the band, laughing. “No, actually, we’ve had the same band for a long, long time. But, anyway, congratulations.” He finally picked up the framed plaques hidden behind the desk. They each held a large print of the cover art of their album on the right side of the frame. On the left, set into the mat, was the disc itself. Below both of these, was a plaque commemorating the success of their album. “We got these for you. These are platinums for both the singles.” He handed a plaque to Angel and then one to Spike.
“Wow,” Angel said, looking at his.
Spike studied his, a smile on his face. It was touching. He loved it.
“We’re doing this now, because we don’t want you lot to forget us when you go overseas and when we’ve come back and you’ve made fifty million dollars out of your charts in America. And we hope you’ll always come back and remember our humble little British show.”
Spike smiled and nodded, “Oh, absolutely.”
“And remember, this was your very first television appearance. In the world.”
The audience cheered again.
“Give the boys a round of applause,” Richard said to the audience before returning his attention to Angel and Spike, “And congratulations, guys.”
“Thank you,” Spike said, shaking Richard’s hand one last time. He and Angel took a another second to give the audience a small bow before heading backstage.
END CHAPTER FIFTEEN