Une cause perdue.

He had told me on the previous day he would give me his own setlist in Blackpool, but I wouldn't believe him. It wouldn't have been the first time Freddie Cowan forgets something he said. He promised, pretended to spit in his palm, held me out his hand. "I won't forget Laurie, I swear". I was still a bit sceptical, but nodded anyway, shaking his hand.

He kept his word. But I didn't expect it to happen that way.

I thought that if by any chance he remembered, he'd give me his setlist a couple of hours after the show, when I'd be waiting for him outside the venue.
But he didn't.

It happened right after Norgaard, the last song of the set, as ever. He put his guitar away onto the floor, and was about to leave the stage, when he suddenly remembered. He crossed my eyes, communicating without saying a word, and then he tore his setlist from the floor, and got down the stage, landing right in front of me. A wave of hysteria seized the crowd around me, and I felt instantly a dozen bodies pressing against mine, crushing my chest against the barrier. Freddie paused for a while, gazing at the many pair of arms stretching towards him, in a desperate attempt to reach him. He then rolled the setlist into a ball, to make sure nobody else could grab it, and took my hand, thrusted the precious piece of paper into my palm.

"See Laurie, I told you!"