How I almost became Calvin Harris' girlfriend


About two years ago me and some friends set up a website to record the daydreams we had about celebrities on public transport over at I wrote this frighteningly true story about the time I nearly met Calvin Harris. Have now decided deserves wider audience so going to publish it here.

Set the scene. It was the autumn of 2008. I was freshly 18, had just arrived in London, and still thought the tube was the quickest way from Holborn to Waterloo. I spent most of my evenings at various Freshers events and had within 4 days of moving into my room at halls learnt all the words to the rap of American Boy. As a lot of people do when they find themselves thrown into a new situation, I fell in love. Hard. Fast.

Calvin Harris had his album out at this time, Acceptable in the 80s was played a lot, Dance Wiv Me quickly became ‘my song’ at predrinks. But still. He wasn’t the kind of celebrity that was photographed in Heat magazine. Most people didn’t fancy him. He was ATTAINABLE. After many, many repetitions of 'get away from the bar, tell your boyfriend hold your jar’ he became The One. (This may or may not in retrospect have been misplaced affection for the tall Scottish guy who lived opposite me at the time - THIS WILL COME IN LATER).

I’d flirted with scheming in the past. My friends and I developed a highly sophisticated 'Plan With Prongs’ for boys we fancied at sixth form (Prong 1 - write an ambiguous MySpace bulletin when you know they are online, so on and so forth). However, I’d never even dreamed I’d get to trial my brilliant mind on anything more than another unsuspecting local indie boy. But now. Here I was. London. Small town no more. Calvin Harris came to London sometimes. It was time. I was ready.

Step one. I applied for a job as a promoter for Fabric. One of the people in charge of the operation came to my halls room to visit. He took one look at the Zac Efron shrine on my wall and flinched. 'What makes you want to work in promotions at Fabric?’ the man asked, casually glancing at the McFly merchandise plastered across my wardrobe. I think he was called Luke. He had a trendy haircut and was excited by the Guru Josh Project. 'I have a plan to seduce Calvin Harris at his upcoming DJ set’ I cheerfully replied. He laughed. I think he thought I was joking and that the Zac Efron shrine was ironic. If only he knew, I thought, glancing at the bottle of Skittles vodka slowly fermenting on my windowsill.

So I got to work on my promotions, e.g put up some posters around my building, thought about forming an intense rivalry with another promotions girl who lived on the fourth floor but then remembered I might as well let her do the work for me, invited my 200 or so Facebook friends most of whom still lived in the middle of nowhere to the event. I believe I sold precisely 8 tickets and made £3 commission. But it was worth it. Or so I thought.

The day of the DJ set rolled around. I of course had free entry and guest list for myself and a friend. I invited the tall Scottish bloke that lived opposite me, mainly motivated by a desire to make Calvin jealous. I wore a polka dot dress. Hair tousled. Lips coral. Overall looked banging.

Myself and Tall Scottish Man (let’s call him Scott) headed over to Fabric at 9pm and spent the first 3 hours we were there sitting in the corner staring at the walls and sipping Jäger. 'Why aren’t they playing Disturbia?’ I complained. I think at this point Scott began to suspect he was being used. I ran into Luke, the promotions man, who clearly was beginning to deeply regret taking me on as, you probably don’t know me, but I am very much not a 'Fabric’ person. He was with the Guru Josh Project. As far as I could see they were just a man and a saxophone. I pretended to be excited when Infinity came on. In fact, I had the same emotion as I always did when it came on: crushing disappointment when it turned out not to be Flashdance.

Calvin came on at 3am. He was predictably gorgeous. I was at the front. He looked at me at least twice. I texted Luke the promotions man asking what my next move was. This is when Luke realised my scheme had never, ever been a joke and began to panic. He took pity on me and invited me to come backstage at 5am.

At 4.30 Scott had enough and wanted to go home. This is when I realised I fancied him. It was time for an internal battle - a famous life as Calvin Harris’ celebrity girlfriend? The Mulberry Abigail was in my reach. However, I made a snap decision to choose the reality over the fantasy. Scott and I went back to halls. On the way we got chips. He remembered I liked burger sauce so asked the kebab shop man for it. It was the most romantic moment of my life to date. I thought I’d never regret it.

Scott turned out to like Frank Turner and Calvin ended up with Rita Ora. Rita Ora two days ago tore off Zac Efron’s shirt in public. She stole my life. LESSON: never ever choose reality over fantasy.

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