“One hell of a journey,” Cassie echoed.

---

We relocated back to Sydney on Tuesday morning, and had just got all the cleaning and tidying up out of the way when the doorbell (installed only days before we moved back in) rang. Tamara had told us to expect someone saying that they were from Dolly magazine to rock up around one in the afternoon; glancing at the clock on the microwave, I saw that it was just after quarter past.

“I’ll get it!” Cassie yelled as she bolted past the kitchen bench, dressed in her black miniskirt and a bright red halter-top. She had a silver armband in the shape of a coiled serpent wrapped around her upper arm; it glinted in the late summer sunlight that poured in through the kitchen windows. She disappeared into the front foyer, returning with a tall blonde woman carrying a satchel bag. “Mark’s still upstairs beautifying himself I think,” Cassie joked as she walked back into the kitchen. “Tay, this is Kate Whitby from Dolly magazine; Kate, this is my boyfriend and the band’s guitarist and resident pretty boy, Taylor Kennedy.”

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you at last,” Kate said, extending a hand across the bench; I shook her hand. “Home is an amazing song.”

“Thank you,” I said, blushing slightly.

“Taylor wrote that one on his lonesome,” Cassie explained. “Hey, Tay, I thought I was the one who was supposed to blush when they got praise.”

“You’ve had your turn at that; let me have a go for once.”

Matthew came downstairs at that precise moment, dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt. I glanced down at my outfit to check that it looked decent – baggy cargo pants, black Quiksilver T-shirt, sneakers – then rummaged in my pockets for an elastic band so I could tie my hair back. I probably should have washed it before I left Gosford that morning, but what’s done is done. I found one and pulled my hair back into a tight, neat ponytail, leaving my rat-tail to swing free over my shoulder.

“Okay, let’s get this started,” Kate said; she sat down at the table, opened her bag and took out a sheaf of papers, a miniature voice activated tape recorder, a spiral notebook and a pen. Cassie, Matthew and I sat down at the table across from her. “Just for identification purposes, we have Matthew, Cassie and Taylor, right?” The three of us nodded. “Okay, first questions first; how did Renegade get started?”

“Well, we’ve been friends all our lives,” Matthew said, “and we were all reasonably good at music. And seeing as I was in the year above these two” he nodded at Cassie and I “all the way through school, this was the perfect way for us to remain friends and still be able to see each other on a fairly regular basis after school ended.”

“There was also the factor of the three of us being our own little support group,” Cassie added. “Whenever one of us has had to deal with something major in our lives, the other two have been there to offer their support. I won’t say what those problems are, because we’ve pledged to one another that they will stay within the band.”

“That’s fair enough,” Kate agreed. “Cassie, a question for you; is it strange being in a band with two guys?”

“Not really,” Cassie answered. “I have four brothers, so I’m used to being around guys. I’m actually more comfortable in an all-male environment; my sister is sixteen years younger than I am, so I basically grew up with my mother as the only other female in a household of males. I’m definitely not your average chick. I hate to cook; I hate wearing makeup. I won’t even wear heels unless I’m forced to.”

“She didn’t even wear a dress to the Year 12 Formal,” I said. “I should know; I was her date.” Cassie elbowed me and giggled girlishly.

“Speaking of dating, are any of you in relationships?”

“No,” said Matthew, at the same time that Cassie and I said, “Yes.” We all laughed.

“Cassie and I are dating at the moment,” I said. “We’ve been in a serious relationship since September last year, even though we’d liked each other since Year 10; we were both too chicken shit at the time to admit our feelings to one another. Meanwhile, Matty boy here is so shit scared of the opposite sex that he won’t even hang out with a girl, let alone date one.”

“Ah, I see,” Kate said, smiling. “And yet the lead singer of Renegade is a girl.”

“Like she already said, she’s not your average chick,” Matthew said. Cassie smacked him soundly on the shoulder. “Ow!”

“Okay, let’s get off the subject of relationships. How did you each decide what instrument you would play?”

“I took piano lessons from the age of seven,” Cassie answered, “so I was the logical choice for the keyboard player.”

“My Aunt Jo convinced my parents to buy me a guitar when I was thirteen,” I added. “I took lessons for about a year and a half, and I’ve been teaching myself since that point. Which left Matt; Matt, how’d you start out playing the drums again?”

Matthew rolled his eyes. “It was the only instrument left,” he said. “Cassie and Taylor were already accustomed to playing their instruments, and if you want the truth neither of them are rhythmically inclined in any way. So I learned to play the drums.”

“What’s a typical Renegade concert like, for those living outside of the general Gosford area?”

I leaned back in my chair. “Basically, what you see is what you get. We play half original songs, half cover songs. And because we usually play in local clubs, our shows are almost always exclusively for the over eighteen crowd; sometimes we’ll do a couple of all ages shows, but it’s a rarity. As we’ve been doing the circuit we’ve found that the majority of people who buy our CDs are around our own ages.”

“The kind of music we play at our shows is basically the same music as we ourselves listen to,” Matthew added. “We’re all fans of alternative and rock music in general, for example Linkin Park, Sum 41, Creed, Puddle Of Mudd, et cetera. Sometimes we’ll play a song from a musical style outside of what we normally play, like at our New Years Eve concert last year we played a Kasey Chambers song, and at some of our concerts last year we performed songs by Bachelor Girl, Ronan Keating, Kate Ceberano and 1200 Techniques.”

“Speaking of music, what is the song writing process like when it comes to the three of you?”

“We have never been known to write a song together,” Cassie replied. “Never. More often than not each of us will bring a song to the band, and we’ll tweak it slightly, but apart from that each song is an individual effort.”

The interview dragged on for about another one and a half hours, and Kate left with the assurance that the interview would be in the April issue of Dolly magazine.

As soon as the front dor swung shut, Cassie let out a groan of relief. “Thank God that’s over! Hopefully next time we can be interviewed by a more credible magazine.”

“Yeah; she kept staring at me, did you notice that?” I agreed. “It’s not like I’m physically attractive or anything.”

“I think there are some people who would disagree with you on that point,” Cassie said. “I’m gonna go get changed; get out of this infernal outfit.”

“I thought you liked miniskirts.”

“I do. But I hate halter tops.”

“Ah…”

“Taylor, you of all people should know that.”

“Hey, don’t forget we have a photo shoot tonight!” I called after her.

“Dear God, kill me now,” I heard her say quite audibly as she went upstairs.

---

“Stop complaining Matt; it wasn’t that bad.”

“Oh yeah? You try being practically held down in a chair and having makeup forcibly slathered all over your face!” He swatted at a non-existent patch of foundation. “And to think we have to do this all over again tomorrow…”

“Yeah, well, just be thankful we’re not holed up in some hotel; be thankful we’re in familiar surroundings.”

We’d holed ourselves up in my bedroom, planning to just relax and watch a movie or two. Cassie, for some very strange reason, had a bowl of piping hot Weet-Bix with her. “Cassie, tell me something; why are you eating cereal at almost eleven thirty at night?” I asked as I threw myself down on my bed, onto my stomach; Cassie and Matthew bounced almost a foot into the air, Cassie holding her bowl well out of the way.

“It tastes good, and it warms me up.”

“Christ al-fucking-mighty Cassie, it’s the middle of February! It’s summer!”

“So? I feel the cold for your information.”

“My arse you feel the cold.”

She looked back over her shoulder and smiled at me. “Well, maybe you should keep me warm then.”

I rolled my eyes and pulled Cassie close, burying my face in her hair. “Mmm, your hair smells nice,” I commented, my voice muffled by the mass of ginger curls.

“Jesus Christ, now he’s gonna whack off all night to that precise thought,” Matthew groaned.

“Hey, as long as he doesn’t go next door and screw Amara King, he can do all the whacking off he likes,” Cassie said, laughing. “I’m the only one he’s allowed to screw.”

“Ooh, wanna go practice now?” I asked cheekily, my hand sneaking under the collar of Cassie’s shirt to play with her bra straps.

“Not unless you want to be up at six tomorrow morning not having got a wink of sleep all night,” Cassie replied. “This weekend, I promise.”

“Ooh, I’ll be looking forward to that no worries.”

“And get your hand out of my shirt.”

I reluctantly removed my hand from where it had been wandering for the past few minutes; she flashed me a sweet smile and rested her head on my shoulder. Matthew, meanwhile, had been flicking through the Austar TV guide for the past five minutes, looking for a movie to watch.

“All right you guys, we have the choices of Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, Save The Last Dance and Knockaround Guys,” Matthew told us. “Which one?”

“Harry Potter,” Cassie and I chorused immediately. Matthew changed the channel to Showtime, where the movie was just about to start. “This movie is rated PG; it contains supernatural themes,” I intoned along with the TV announcer. “Parental guidance is recommended. Parental guidance recommended my left foot…”

“Taylor, please, we don’t require a running commentary; neither of us is deaf,” Matthew complained. “Please, shut up before I roll up the TV guide and shove it up your pretty boy arse.”

“Y’know Matt, idle threats will get you absolutely nowhere.”

“Who says it’s an idle threat? Now shut your cakehole before I make good on my promise. Your arse isn’t so tight that I can’t shove the TV guide up there and leave it to rot.”

“Language, boys,” Cassie said. “Both of you shut up; the movie’s starting and I would really like to watch it.”

“You’ve got the movie on DVD Cass; why do you need to watch it again?”