Chapter Text
“And I don’t wanna live my life like everybody else,
And I won’t say I’m fine like everybody else,
‘Cause I’m not like everybody else.”
– I’m Not Like Everybody Else, The Kinks
It was on Brighton Pier that they met, because where else would it be? Where else in the world would Howard meet a Mod and fumble his way into talking to him? The scenario was almost a cliché in the making.
He was weird – and this was evident right off – and that made Howard’s heart warm a little. Most of all because that kid with the motorbike at the newsagent had sneered at him, but this kid in front of him was maybe a little like Howard. He was dressed Mod – but like if Twiggy decided she’d had enough of modelling and Mary Quant and became the fifth member of The Who, whilst keeping her makeup largely the same.
And he caught Howard’s eye and the perfect lines painted around his eyes hardened in a scowl before melting into a smile. Because maybe he could tell that Howard didn’t belong too. And Twiggy boy opened his mouth and laughed like a crow and let a single phrase escape his smirk, “Hey, Ted.”
Howard shifted uncomfortably. “I’m not… I just like the music. Of jazz. The music of the jazz movement… And these clothes.”
Crow boy just laughed again.
That’s when two girls walked out of the shop behind them: one blonde, the other with black hair. They were dressed almost like Howard but with leather jackets thrown over their shirts and their hair greased back. Right away, Howard knew they were the kind of girls his mother told him to stay away from; the kind of girls who kick just as hard as the boys. But as they walked easily towards the odd Mod, Howard knew for all their posturing, they didn’t fit either.
“He bothering you, babe?” The blonde one asked the Mod, staring Howard down.
“Nah, he’s fine,” was the reply from the Mod, smirking at him.
The black-haired one gave Howard one last glare that made his stomach toss. “Don’t be spending too much time round here, Teddy Boy. Not unless you want a fight.” And then she walked to a motorbike a little ways down the pavement and climbed on, tailed by the Mod. The blonde climbed onto another bike, whereas the boy hesitantly climbed on behind the still-scowling black-haired girl. She started the engine and drove by, holding up two fingers as she went past.
It may have felt like a movie scene the first time he saw him, but the second was hardly strange or cinematic. Howard wasn’t on the Pier this time, just the corner shop, comparing the prices of two local newspapers. He was deep in thought trying to work out which was closest to the paper his dad would usually get back home in Leeds.
“Hey, Ted.” Howard jumped. He turned and saw the Twiglet (that’s boy-with-makeup-like-Twiggy, not the savoury snack) from the Pier. At Howard’s surprise he started laughing again, and Howard realised they had an inside joke now, almost.
“It’s Howard.”
“Howard. Howard,” Crow boy seemed to be testing it out how it sounded. “Howard, Howard, Howard, Hooooooooward. Howard!” He grinned, clearly it had met his standards. “I’m Vince.”
Howard was tempted to repeat Vince’s name alike, but decided against it. That would be undignified.
Howard’s eyes darted briefly about for the girls from before. “Your girlfriend and her mate aren’t here, are they?”
Vince looked surprised, then giggled. “Nah, Judy’s not my girlfriend. They’re just my mates.” He grinned and, laughing, said, “Trust me though, you’re not their type.”
Howard was confused. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure they hate me.”
Vince laughed a little nervously at that. “Yeah, they ain’t fond of strangers.”
“And I’m not interested in them romantically, Howard Moon only goes with girls with finesse.”
“Moon!?” Vince’s eyes lit up. “Like Keith!?”
Howard should’ve seen this coming, but somehow he never does. “Same spelling, but we’re not related.”
Vince’s face fell a little, but he shrugged it off. He scanned one of the shelves behind Howard and picked up a small bag of sherbet flying saucers. “You going to pay for that?” He pointed at the papers Howard was holding.
“Oh,” Howard looked down. “I haven’t decided yet.” He stood there uncomfortably for a few seconds. “My father likes things to be perfect.”
Vince looked at him confused. “How could either be less perfect than the other?”
“What?”
He seemed to have none of the stress Howard had over the decision. “Well, they’re both pretty much the same, right? Same news has happened, they just use different words, right?” He plucked the newspaper from Howard’s right hand and placed it messily back on the shelf. “There you go.” He grinned, walking toward the till. “Come on!”
Howard looked back at the paper Vince had ditched for a second and then followed.
The shopkeeper took one look at the two of them and rolled his eyes, muttering something about ‘the youth of today’, but Vince only grinned and the man appeared to be instantly charmed.
When they had left, Vince grabbed Howard’s sleeve to stop him walking home. “Hey, I’m going down to the beach. Do you wanna come?” He smiled, looking up at Howard.
He was insane, he had to be. What if the relative seclusion of the beach on a cold and windy day was just what Howard was waiting for to knock Vince about? It‘s not like Brighton doesn’t have a reputation for Rockers punching Mods into the tarmac while Mods kick them back. But, then again, Howard got the feeling that Vince had missed all that. That everyone he knew just existed outside of any clashes. A small bubble of sunshine in an otherwise frequently grim world. Still, Vince was either a fool to trust him so soon or just too naïve to think anyone could be a bad person.
“Yeah, alright.”
Vince grinned.
So that’s how Howard found himself sat on the beach in weather that no-one in their right mind would, side-by-side to the strangest boy he’d ever met. Someone call the Picture Post. Howard could already imagine the headlines: ‘Teddy Boy Jazz Maverick Meets Girly Boy Mod, Form Odd Friendship and No-One Gets Slashed up!’
Vince shook the bag of sweets under Howard’s nose, snapping him out of thought. “Don’t sit there moping! You can have one if you want.”
Howard looked down at Vince. He seemed perfectly content to sit on the pebble beach with just a towel underneath them. He didn’t seem at all worried about his suit – or, at least, his worry was far outweighed by the enjoyment he was getting from watching the sea.
“I’m not moping, sir, I’m purely observing the beauty of our surroundings. I’m a poet, Vince, you wouldn’t understand.”
Vince shrugged at that and ate another flying saucer. “So how did you end up here?”
“Well,” Howard locked eyes with Vince, then uncomfortably looked away. “I followed you.”
Vince started giggling, and Howard bridled. “No, I mean in Brighton!”
Howard’s eyes darted about the place, but he didn’t feel in control of them anymore. “Oh, my family are on holiday here.” A queasiness had settled in him.
“Yeah, mine too. I wanted to go to France though, that’d be marvy!” Vince was fiddling with the buttons on his suit jacket. “We’ve never left England, yeah? We hardly ever leave London.”
“I’ve never been abroad either. I mean, they took me to Scotland once, but I was tiny. We always come down here though, so long as we have the money. Mum says the sea air keeps us strong.”
Vince nodded at this, like it was some wisdom being passed down to him. “Yeah, I think there’s something in that. The girls are down here all the time – ‘cause Susie’s aunt or something lives nearby – and they’re proper strong!”
After that they went a bit quieter. Howard’s never been good with new people – he’s not a man on the streets or the life of a party. But Vince sat by his elbow and didn’t seem to fazed. It felt like he could almost talk for England.
He shook the bag again. “Sure you don’t want the last one?”
Howard shook his head. Vince shrugged. He stuck his tongue out, Howard watching as the rice paper dissolved on his tongue.
Then his mouth closed again, and Howard’s head snapped back to watch the sea.
“Dunno what the time is-”
“You don’t have a watch?” Howard’s mind boggled. How did this boy get anything done? But Vince grinned cheekily, like he wasn’t all that bothered. Like he didn’t believe in the concept of time, didn’t feel trapped by it like Howard, but instead just obliged to follow everyone else following it.
Howard didn’t even have time to give him the answer because Vince stood up then, almost like he didn’t care to know. “Dunno what the time is but it’s getting dark. See you later, Howard!” And then he almost half-hugged Howard, pressing his chest to his upper body and giving him a quick and gentle squeeze.
And then he was gone, running down the beach with the wind filling his open jacket like sails or a seagull’s wings.
They hadn’t really agreed to meet again or where, but Howard had a feeling in his chest that said they would.