LIFE // I skipped work to be in Coldplay’s video. Here’s what happened.

I skipped work to star in Coldplay’s upcoming video clip. And this is what happened

Nervous. Babbling. Mind racing at a million miles per hour. Feet dancing with excitement. That’s the 22-year-old girl sitting next to me in the courtyard of the Court House Hotel on this chilly Tuesday morning. Me, I’m trying to hide all of the above as I constantly check my phone seeking affirmation that I am officially having the coolest Tuesday of my life.

If you haven’t picked up on this yet, this is due to be a rambling, adrenalin-filled blog-like piece by a squealing fan-girl. You’ve been warned. Close this page if this is NOT what you subscribed to when you clicked on this article.

But back to the coolest Tuesday:

It started in the morning. I’d flipped on the TV, listened to the news and heard word that Coldplay were filming their music clip for ‘A Sky Full of Stars’ in my suburb (Newtown) and were calling for 250 extras. Too late. It’s officially 8am, I’m already on my way to work, and Newtown is a pretty big place to try and scout out where and when.

Two minutes later and I’m passing a line of fans outside The Court House Hotel.

One minute later and I’m messaging work about the event.

Twenty minutes later and I’m in line.

Let me remark now that I have the coolest and most understanding work mates in the world for telling me to retreat and stand in line. This line, I find, is surprisingly short. For a band that sold out their Enmore Theatre show in less than 3-minutes, their fans aren’t biting for this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

It’s 8:30am and the line isn’t even 100-strong yet. Either these obsessive ticket-happy fans didn’t receive the tweet Coldplays crew sent out last night about the event (they were expecting 20, max 30 people to show up due to its last-minuteness), or every other Coldplay fan needs to change their job.

I’ll let you decide on the answer to that one. Me, on the other hand, I’m busy shying away from the Morning Show, 2DayFM and other media as they ask the crowd to sing (FYI Coldplay fans aren’t the best singers…), and chat with them.

By 10 o’clock the crowd has reached 200-plus and they’re moving us into the bar.

Waiting is boring as bat-shit. The media take the time to chat with fans. The organisers have set up a bar tab for free drinks, chips, and wedges to be sent our way and everyone in sight is wolfing them down. OK not the wedges. Huge chunks of potato are not appealing. But shoestring fries are.

We’re each asked to sign a waiver, which I’m hesitant in doing as is states that I’m assigning all rights throughout the entire Universe, in and to my image taken during the making of the ‘video’, to Coldplay. There’s also something about contributing to minimum union scale payments, which I have not the fucking clue what this means or if they’ll go through with, but If I don’t sign on the dotted line I won’t be thanked in the credits of this video.

Yeah, you know what I did.

They say they’ll take us out in droves, and explain that the video will begin with Chris coming out of Mary’s bar (around the corner), walking down to Freedom Square (where the image of Martin Luther King Jr and his I Have a Dream speech is), and then over to The Hub. They pull out people for different segments. They pull out 10, maybe 14 beautiful people, naming them Group One and Groups Two, and they disappear, leaving us in wait.

These numbered groups will be at the beginning of the clip, standing along the main street. Noticing Chris and co. walking, they’ll stare and point, and get their face in view. I’m not the beautiful people. I’m in the final group. The UNNUMBERED group. I’m in the mass crowd. The one at the end of the song that sings, claps, and woops into non-existence.

But I’m also in the credits. So fuck you all.

Chatting to the randoms, I learn that many have done as I have – sacrificed something to be here. There’s a woman with a six-year-old child and she’s calling her husband to tell him that she can’t pick their daughter up from school today. She’ll understand when she’s older. Her words, not mine. There’s also a university student stating that she has exams tomorrow, and every now and again she flips open her notes, but you can tell she’s not concentrating. She’s got more important things to do. And that’s watch as Coldplay run through the crowd and sing for us. Oh, and take photos. Lots and lots of photos.

The one thing on everyone’s mind seems to be to whip out their phones whenever Chris comes into view and hammer the camera button so hard and so fast it gets pregnant with Chris Martin’s babies. He does four takes with the crowd, and in-between he spends some time talking to the crowd and making women ovulate. To answer your question, yes, he really is a nice guy (what were you thinking, Gwyneth?). He thanks us for being here and when a punter calls out ‘I love you, Chris’ he responds saying that he has ‘warm feelings for you, too’.

After the last take, Chris surprises us with a special acoustic version of the song. Then, he disappears. Down a side alley and into the back of The Hub (and old theatre that’s currently being renovated). The crowd is SHATTERED. There was talk early on (by the crowd, not the Coldplay crew) that considering there were only 200 of us, he would give us time to chat, and take photos. This is not the case. They’ve left us to fend for ourselves at 3:30pm on a Tuesday afternoon.

I stroll aimlessly down the alley, hoping to impregnate my phone one last time. I meander. I am lost. Confused. Should I head off? Should I stay? Indecision works in my favour and a crowd begins to build outside the back door of The Hub and I join. Take note: crowds with cameras are always a good sign.

Every other member exits getting into their own sleek black car. Then, comes Chris’s car… and as it parks outside the door he emerges. We scream. Someone asks if he’ll sign something for her. He says, of course, he’ll spend some time signing things for us. The crowd is about 30-strong and I doubt anyone left without one of these:

christ martin autograph

And a giddy grin on their smug little faces, naturally.

So yes, I skipped work to star in Coldplay’s video clip. And I met the man behind the band, got myself a Chris Martin scribble, and even got a dodgy selfie.

How was your Tuesday?

By Stef, who may still be in the grips of Chris Martin-fever. Sadly there is no cure, but you can donate to the cause if you like. Accepting cookies and cronuts at this time.

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Stephanie Yip

Stephanie likes to consider herself a bit like Merril Bainbridge: a little bit of everything all rolled into one. She writes lifestyle by day, and moonlights as an arts, entertainment, music journo, sometimes band photographer, othertimes yogi and swing dancer by night. She's also vertically challenged and a poor swimmer. She's currently working on both.

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