True to his word Simon landed their first gig at HQ’s, a chic club off Mare Street in Hackney. This was the real deal. They were playing to a paying crowd.The venue was small and intimate, the crowd a mix of soul boys and rowdy new age hipsters. The lads were back-stage pacing around the dressing room, smoking and drinking hard. Jimmy went out front and gazed at the stage. He felt fine, then not so good. Anxiety crept up stalking him slow then slammed a bag over his head and stuffed him in the trunk. He felt wretched, knocking on the lid gasping for air. He ducked out and rushed back to the dressing room toilet. A dab of brown bitter fluid inched up to the back of his throat. He sat with his head between his knees trying to get a grip.
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