The stage, a massive steel structure, looks like a giant spider in the middle of the field. Technicians are working, laying wires and connecting supersized amps. Soon it will be bouncing with musicians and singers, setting the night on fire with light and sound and energy. But I won’t be here.

Forcing myself to look happy, I form a peace sign with my two fingers and Faye sticks her tongue out.

‘A couple more and we should have enough,’ she says taking my phone.

Faye captures another few photographs of us at the festival and then we hand the phones to Andriu who is standing beside us with a baseball cap on his head. His eyes are glued to the guys preparing the stage like he’s never seen manual work before.

‘You know what to do, don’t you?’ Faye says, nudging him.

‘Yes, yes, all under control.’ Andriu lifts his hand to salute Faye, his dark eyes gleaming above his smile like it’s all some sort of a joke. It isn’t a joke. But Faye couldn’t tell him the truth about why she needs an alibi. We couldn’t risk anyone else knowing. So she said she was faking being here for work. That she could only get off duty to go to her cousin’s hen party by telling her boss that she had already bought her ticket to the festival. The photos are in case someone asks.

Andriu fell for it. He believes everything Faye tells him, just like me.

Faye and I have been to every other Electric Picnic festival. Our mothers gift us the tickets for Christmas every year. It’s part of a pact we agreed with them when we turned sixteen. If we did well in our exams, we could go to the festival. From that day on, we did well in our exams. So it’s the perfect alibi.

‘Remember to take a few photos of the stage on both of our phones when Lana Del Ray is playing,’ Faye says, leaning in to kiss Andriu before tracing his lips with her finger. It’s a quirky thing she does that I don’t understand. ‘And I’ll see you tomorrow,’ she says, handing him something. I think it’s money. Andriu must be broke again and Faye always has money.

‘And don’t get carried away with the music and forget to take the photos,’ she smiles, slapping one last kiss on his lips.

Andriu nods and puts both our phones in his pocket. I feel completely numb walking away from him; my breath is getting shallower as we move against the crowd that’s beginning to fill this big green field.

If sometime in the future anyone asks where we were tonight our phones will corroborate our answer.