ey there movers and groovers, you've tuned into 105 Radio Young Dudes and as I sit here reminiscing into the bottom of a whisky glass of faded childhood summers, I'd like to play you a new song just in. This one's called Everybody remembers their first love, and it's dedicated to a very special lady out there, you know who you are.

Sometimes the most passionate of all love is the most unobtainable version. Women flock to sell-out tours of boy-bands around the world, and jump onto live train-rails when their idols get married. Guys dream about one day accidentally bumping into Christina Aguilera and delivering the perfect chat-up line that gets her attention. When you crave after someone and think of him or her constantly and you're young, you need a resilient heart to survive the trauma of actually getting that person..and losing them. Sometimes the person isn't even a celebrity. Sometimes it's your best-friends girlfriend.
Everybody remembers their first love, and the often-accompanying first heartbreak. I sure do, and whilst I wont say I suffered more than the average Joe, I certainly felt at the time like I did. Who doesn't? The events in this story mark what was a certain turning point in my life regarding the transformation of being what was definitely an extremely gawky teenager into a confident, and not unattractive young man. Let Uncle Kris elaborate for ya...
This is 1995, and with the Beatles pumping through my Walkman, and the sun of a new summer beating down on my face as I walked, I was what a Taratino script might classify as one young, hip, happening, happy ass mofo.
I'd spent countless summers as a youth hanging around on the beach, chasing girls, getting drunk, and since every summer there was an infusion of Scandinavians arriving for short two-week English courses in my town, it was like Bag-em-and-Shag-em city, with guys falling over themselves to make out with all the stunning Swedes and Norwegians milling around the seafront. It was often quite amusing to watch English girls trying to stop their men from deviating with the more-often-than-not prettier and more lady-like Scandinavian chicks, who were just looking for a bit of fun and a few memories to take home with them (their virginity would remain forever in England, though). Those were fantastic and hectic days, full of adventure and passion, and, more often than not, fierce heartbreak as the girl you'd just fallen in love with waved good-bye tearfully through the window of the taxi on her way to the airport. All in all, I cherished those days of my youth, which left me with adoration for Scandinavian babes that was only to become second to Japanese chicks in the future. However, enough of that shit, it's irrelevant to the tale I'm going to tell, this story is about one girl, the one girl I think we can all relate to. The first love.
"Hey Kris you c*nt," screamed a drunken voice of one of my friends "are you coming down the pier tonight for a piss up??"

It was Chubs on the phone, the loudest voice of what sounded like more than one of my regular summer drinking buddies on the other end. Mum was near and I cringed as she looked at me with disdain, overhearing his loud voice. Guys who hang out in England rarely refer to each other as friend, preferring to play around with other references to their close buds. Yeah, you really know you're one of the guys when they embrace you with bitch, Monkey Man, whore, or even the affectionate faggot.
It was already 7:30 and they were all drunk. Actually, so was I but I'd been doing my loner thing during the day. At 18 and on the dole, there was nothing better to do, either look for a job when there wasn't any, or hang around on a sunny beach all day thinking and end up going home to an irate mother who, having just banged out a stressful day of work, was more than happy to unload her grief none-too-politely to her parasitic, worthless, lazy sod for a son. I'd just come back for ten minutes and had already received an earful of it - 10 minutes more and I think I'd have cracked a chair over the old girls head, so you can imagine my relief when the phone rang and Chubs gave me a good excuse to get the hell out of there. Grabbing my jacket and a cold can of cider from the fridge, I dashed off with my mumfs curses still ringing in my ear, and an hour later I was sniffing glue with my buddies in a public toilet somewhere along the seafront. We had this thing going on where we all met in one spot, and every one of us would have to bring a bottle of liquor each, and then we'd mix it all into one big container, and drink it regardless of the taste. Funnily enough most things mixed well, and actually tasted pretty good except for those days when some asshole would bring along some Crème de Menthe or a nasty Claret that didn't go.

I was still wondering who the hell the people were around me. I guess we were just lost boys who hardly knew each other, and yet were united by one the common cause, to get laid before the end of the summer. These guys were like ghosts I never saw for the rest of the year, but like clockwork they reappeared every summer, same time, same place, same purpose. Chubs was the only guy I regularly hung-out with. Not that we had that much in common, but he lived close, liked to drink, and was more ugly than me, so that was enough. Like a lot of young lads, our whole relationship was based on competitiveness; who could smoke more dope; who could drink the most; who was better at video games, and who could get the prettiest girl. I have to hand it to him..on the last point, Chubs won hands down. We spotted her as we were smoking some ganja on a bench on the pedestrian walking zone along the seafront. Well, I spotted her, everyone elsefs attention was focused on the rolling of the next spliff, but as I glanced over my shoulder to see if anybody was near, I saw a Hawaiian-esque beauty come towards me, with wind-blown soft brown hair emanating like lambent flame through the sunlight, and I could hardly move my eyes away. I felt drawn to her. Like an idiot, I let her pass me by, but was that a smile I saw from her lips?. The only love of my life at that time was the cans of cider I constantly drank from, you could say I was a lonely guy and you wouldnft be wrong...
Anyway, later on hours after the alcohol had gone dry, I was starting to get sober, which was never a good thing. We used to go to the International Student Disco every night, but the bouncers had grown wise to the fact that we were all actually English despite our pathetic attempts to procure daft foreign accents and gaining entry was retained for the few who could slip them a fiver on the way in, so that night I decided to spend in the pier pub. The dangerous cocktails of hinder mixed with pints of cider were starting to give me a rank feeling, and I knew could spew at any moment. Chubs was keen to carry on checking out the birds hanging outside the front of the pier, but because of my stomach I suggested he go alone and I'd join him when I felt better. What a mistake. I'd almost given up on waiting for him to come back, and was just about to call it a night and go my merry way when he came back into the pub with a big grin on his fat bastard face. Apparently he'd just gotten off with some girl he met outside, and was thrilled to bits, as she was "F**cking gorgeous" according to him. Now usually, when Chubs says a girl is beautiful, they're the kind of girls that could audition for a remake of the Elephant Man, so a week later when I was preparing to meet Chubs and his new girlfriend you could say I was dubious to say the least. But as I entered the pub we'd agreed to meet at I saw the outline of Chubs and the girl, and a mild shock equivalent to that of a truck hitting me ran up my spine. When I walked round to face them, I realised my fears were true. The babe from the seafront!! Oh man!! And she was even foxier than I thought she was before. With Chubs?? That chunky butt waster? I could not believe it.. I smiled at the happy looking couple, but inside my heart was bleeding. I had a major attack of the green-eyed monster. Chubs didn't know what love was, he was, in a manner of speaking...a grunt. The kind of guy who spent his life in the pub, and chased anything with a c*nt and a heartbeat, and preferred women that didn't have the ability of speech. A girl was simply a trophy for him, to be displayed in front of admirers. He never dreamed of finding that perfect girl, who he could love and treat like a Queen, his version of Mrs.Perfect was any tart that took it up the arse and loved it, and would fetch his beer from the fridge during football matches on the television. It never bothered me before that he'd shagged more girls than I had, as the kind of girls he'd gone with were the kind that everybody goes with. But this girl, this beauty..I could tell she was special before she even opened her mouth..A bum like Chubs was unworthy, there's just no other way to say it.
"Kris, this is Vivian."

So, her name was Vivian. Well, that wasn't her real name but the one I'm giving you. Actually when years later I asked her mother why she had given her daughter that particular unique name that was her real name, she said it meant 'Princess' in Chinese and was the first name that had come into her head as the child was born. Well, if ever there were ever a girl that fit the description of a princess, Vivian was it.
Vivian was born and raised in England, a product of a Taiwanese mother and a British ex-soldier who would return from Taiwan with a pregnant wife he would later beat to the brink of death, until she finally gathered to courage to leave him. Vivian was exquisite. By some grace of nature she seemed to harbour the ideal characteristics of the two nations that she was derived from, both mentally and physically. On the British side, she had a long, curvaceous body with a good-sized cleavage, yet with that petite waist you can only find in women from the Far East, like some kind of cartoon character. She had mystical brown eyes, but they shone with humour and sunshine that was in no way comparable to those of the sceptical, untrusting Chinese I'd met before. She was everything I found attractive in English and Asian women rolled into one perfect Barbie Doll package and despite having grown up in the UK Vivian, although basically English, had been raised singly by her Taiwanese mother, and as a by-product to that was very feminine and gracious. I luxuriated in her company and felt an attraction to her that was hard to hide. I couldn't have asked for a more perfect girlfriend. But she wasn't mine. Hideous fate had destined it never to be.
Winter came and went. As autumn approached my feelings for Vivian grew and grew. I hoped that the spell she had on me would eventually wear off, but the more I saw her, the more I grew fond of her. We became a close circle of three, me, Vivian, and Chubs, and although Vivian often tried to pair me off with friends of hers, I think she gradually came to the realisation that I was completely and utterly in love with her, a rumour that had spread through the crowd we hung out with by my brother, who was probably sick of my constant chatter about how she was my dream girl, and how I wished that I'd beaten Chubs to get her. It was the big secret in the group, and Chubs may have cottoned on, but nobody knew for sure, and if so he never confronted me about it, instead relishing in the pleasure that this time, he truly had one over me. I had to figure a way to prove to Vivian that I was a better guy. F*ck it..I knew it was immature at the time, but I wanted her so badly I was unable to sleep.
So like any sly bastard who can't convince a girl he was the right guy for her, I tried to convince her family of it instead.
I managed to get an invitation to the 3 bedroom flat Vivian shared with her mum and her sister one day when I accidentally bumped into the whole family in Sainsbury and, after acting curious as to what Vivianfs place looked like, and saying I'd never tried Taiwanese food before, her mother declared she would cook me a whole banquet of Taiwanese food that very night, and dressed in my best, I turned up at the door quarter of an hour before I was supposed to with a box of chocolates for the family. Vivian opened the door and she was hot as usual, and I couldn't believe that even such a thing as the cobalt-toenail paint she wore that night could turn me on. Shit, even this chicks feet got me going, I remember thinking as I walked in and gave the present to her mum, who, not being your typical Asian woman gave me a huge hug for doing so. I remember the feeling of being so aroused and excited by being surrounded by beautiful exotic women for the first time in my life, with the smell of perfume lingering in the air, and that feeling still sticks in my mind to this day. We had a good meal and a chat, and later on when I left after making what I knew to be a good impression, I could almost imagine Vivianfs mum questioning Vivian as to why she hadn't chosen me instead of Chubs as a boyfriend. I slept with a smile on my face that night. That probably never happened, but what can I say, I was a kid at the time of writing.

That was the start of many a secret rendezvous between Vivian and I. We'd been to the cinema together, the pubs, the beach, and one night we just decided that sitting outside her house watching the moon in the sky under cover of a street-bunker was good enough. It was one of those rare humid nights that just simply never happen in the UK, and previously wed been walking around, both now exhausted from the sun. The moon was bright, and all I could hear was the soft baying of the sea waves creeping up onto the pebbles. It was a romantic situation that affected both Vivian and I. Tired, I lay down, with my head on her lap, and she softly stroked my hair. I'd never felt that relaxed with another person up until that point in my life. Her perfume dazed me and set my mind to wander, and, closing my eyes but just intending to rest a little, I ended up falling asleep. When I woke up, she was also lying on her side beside me on the bench. It was one of those unique intimate moments in your life that you always remember. My face was inches from hers, and she was staring into my eyes. She'd been watching me sleep. All I could see was the shadows of her face, and the specular highlights of her eyes reflecting from the moon. There was a tense moment, but as my eyes fell to the moisture on her lips, I moved in for the kill. That was my first kiss. I mean, real kiss. One that meant something. It lasted a full 10 minutes, but finally, she had to go. I watched up walk up the steps to her house and give me one final smile as she closed the door.
Like any lovesick guy I tried to get in touch with her over the next few weeks, but I couldn't. It would probably be obvious to others that she was trying to avoid me, but in my hopeful mind she had a genuine reason for not getting in touch. Of course, seeing Chubs made me feel guilty, but at least he wouldnftt be able to smile at me like a smug bastard anymore when we had conversations about Vivian, hinting that he had something I would never have.
It was a painful lesson to learn, but eventually I realised that Vivian wasnt going to leave Chubs for me. She was after all, raised in a way that encouraged non-confrontation, and she wouldve found it difficult to tell me. Fact is, she was a homely girl who would basically settle with any guy who treated her nice, without deviating. That was another thing I liked about her. It just made me want to fight harder for her.
It became more and more obvious that Vivian and I had got up to something amongst our circle of friends. And we were still attracted to each other despite the fact that she was still with her boyfriend and wouldnt leave him. For me it was a constant source of anxiety and depression waiting to see if she was going to make the break and go for me, and I tried to manipulate situations were we could be together, but all to no avail. The basic attraction was still there though and our eyes met on more than one occasion across the room, noticeable by everyone. It was hard not to give the game away. And there was a tangible animosity in the air between Chubs, and me ticking away like a bomb. Then one day the secret was out, Vivian told Chubs what had happened between you too, my bro informed me on a Friday evening. I had no idea what Chubs would do the next time I saw him, and actually, if he was going to start a fight with me, I wasnt so sure that I would bother fighting back, or at least I would let him get in the first few punches, as I was, in theory, the bad guy here. Call that honour gleamed from watching too many Kung Fu movies or some shit, but I just felt that I didnftt want steal a guys girlfriend and beat the shit out of him at the same time.
I was sitting down with the same group of friends on the Saturday as usual when we heard the intercom. It was Chubs, he was coming up to the flat. My heart stopped. This was it. Everybody looked at me, to see if I was going to run and hide, or stay and fight. We heard the door open, and I watched him come into the room, say some greetings, and sit opposite me. Vivian was behind him and quietly sat down on the couch next to my brother, not even a whisper or a glance in my direction, her eyes locked onto the TV. Chubs was glaring at me. Something snapped inside of me, some inner monologue screaming are you a pussy Kris?E
Hello ChubsEI said, my eyes burning into him. I can take you, you fat fuckerE they said. This cunt wasnt gonna lay a finger on me unless he wants it broken. I could see he was thinking. Everyone else was playing on the Playstation, pretending as though they knew nothing, but they all had their ears pricked. He pulled a bottle of vodka out of a carrier bag, and placed it on the table. Do you want a drink?Ehe said in an unemotional voice. Fuck it, was that a smile I saw curl ever so slightly on his face?
What the hell is that? Is that it? Do you want a drink?E Here I was half expecting to dodge a right hook, and counter with a head-butt, and he calmly acts as though I hadnt had my tongue down his girlfriends throat two weeks prior to the day. My mind was racing. Was he going to get me drunk so that he could kick me in easier? Was he stalling? Was he just gonna play it cool, and then crack the bottle over my head when I wasnt expecting it?.
I played along with his game, and we started drinking. We didnt talk, and it was obvious to every single person in that room, that he knew the score, and I knew the score, the tension was mounting. I didnt let Chubs out of my peripheral vision for a full 2 hours.

But nothing happened that night, he left a little drunkenly with his girlfriend, and I was left with a puzzled look on my face. That was the last time I ever saw Chubs.

What a pussy!!!Eone of my friends said laughing. Of course that was what they all assumed. Perhaps that was the truth, maybe hed simply bottled it, knowing that he wasnt gonna kick my ass without getting a few good licks himself. Or else hed just planned to give me the guilt-trip treatment from Chubs and it had worked 100%. I felt like a true cunt, and more remote to the idea of breaking up Chubs and Vivian than ever before.
Chubs had fooled the lot of us. What in fact was true, I found out months later, was that Chubs actually didnt give a shit about Vivian. He didnt even fancy her, he just knew how good-looking she was, and the popularity it would give him having a girlfriend like that All along, she was just a way that he could get at me, getting his kick from watching the pained expression on my face as he told me tales of how hed screwed her brains out on a regular basis. Hed never loved her, and left her for a woman with 3 kids shortly after. Last thing I heard hes blown 15 grand of his grandparents will on cocaine, and was a full-time drug dealer in Tunbridge Wells.

After that night Id decided to, well, grow up. I didnt ever want to be in the same situation as that again, and even though Vivian was my dream girl, I just decided she wasnt worth it in the end. I was gonna change. Stop being a bloody dreamer and a wisher all the time. I was gonna become stronger, mentally and physically. I was going to make women lust after me, instead of the other way round as always. I was in a sense going to become the kind of man women read about in romance novels. Vivian was just torturing me, and I came to the conclusion that Id have to cut her off out of my life, and naturally, Chubs too. I ripped up Vivians telephone number, hid myself in my room, and dejected, began to spend more and more time alone, waiting for the black cloud to pass over my mind. As I raked my hands through my hair night after night in distress, I wondered how long it would take for the Vivian Withdrawal Symptoms to wear off.
When does love die? When the heart dies I concluded. All the loves in my life are still dear to me, and even though we go our own ways, they will be forever in my memory. ichi go, ichi e - one meeting, one meaning..

Vivian dated a bunch of loser guys for about a year after that until she finally ended up with another friend of mine, who knows how to treat a woman with respect and is in love with her I hear. Although I still wonder if I ever could have ended up with Vivian, in many ways Im glad it was never to be, as I probably would never have gone to Japan if we had become a couple.
I even stopped hanging around my dope-head friends, although Id see them down the video arcade occasionally. I took up Judo and entered college. Judo was a perfect medium to vent my rage in, and it soon became a passion of mine. Being the fit guy I was at the time, I decided to start to use gym weight-lifting equipment to supplement my martial arts training, and one day nearly dropped a weight on my foot when a stunning young Japanese women with thick black wavy hair walked in one day, and knocked me for six with her smile. Little did I know she would be the main catalyst for one of the greatest adventures in my life. And the rest, they say, is Young Dudes history.