A piece I did on Popmundo... Real life's gonna be that much harder.

The flickering pink neon sign of Club 74 creaks as the wind picks up, then dies down again. The lone bouncer at the back entrance pulls his coat tighter around his ample girth.

Everyone's entering by the front, but occasionally someone wanders by.

Get past the bouncer and step in through the door, and you're soon lost in the maze of passages that run backstage.

In a dingy dressing room, looking very much at odds with the fittings, is Audrey Page, all 5 feet 6 of her.

She’s far from home and her children, and it’s almost Christmas.

Technicians and backup singers rush past the open door, but no one gives her a second look.

Why should they? They know her simply as Audacity.

We’re in downtown Berlin and in these parts, everyone has a story, so few stop to listen. No one is here by choice, most can’t wait to leave.

Audrey was married once, to a 20 stone bruiser by the name of Harley. The attraction died two weeks after the ceremony. She stayed for 7 more years.

Then one night, she’d had enough.

Enough of his whoring and boozing ways. Enough of his indifferent attitude and abusive behaviour. Enough of all that crap.

She packed her eight kids into the truck and drove off into the night. Turned on to the freeway and just drove on and on. Never stopped, never looked back. Till they ran out of gas. Then they hitchhiked.

It’s been more than 3 years to the day. Now she fights hard to make a living. For her kids, for herself.

Backstage, she’s Audrey who puts on a brave front and misses her children.

But when the lights come on and the bass kicks in, she’s Audacity, all 5 foot 6 of punk ‘tude.