The press conference felt ropey and unconvincing. It was like we were solo artists. Up until taht point we had felt so good I’d just assumed we’d click right back into our old roles. We’d done the documentary, we’d done GMTV and Radio One and now, withing twenty-four hours of us pulling it off, it felt like we were falling apart. We came off stage, did a few one-to-one interviews and then went backstage into our room. Suddenly the security guys began clearing everyone out of our room - Howard was on his knees, crying, he was ovewhelmed by it all. Jay sat hugging him, looking as white as a ghost, and Mark, who had seemed the least fazed by the press, looked as worried as I felt. I sat there with my head in my hands thinking, I’ve been out of the limelight too long. I can’t handle it. This tour’s never going to happen, we can’t deal with it. This is big shit happening here. And we hadn’t finished; there were more interviews to do. It was one of those situations where you want someone to carry you a million miles away.
Howard was on his knees, crying, he was ovewhelmed by it all. Jay sat hugging him,