Baby's On Fire
Introduction: Well, after watching Velvet Goldmine for around the 10th time, I finally decided to sit down and write a fanfic with it. Amazing.but like you didn't see it coming. For once, it's not a songfic, thank the gods. The reason it's called Baby's On Fire is simply because one of Brian Slade's songs is titled that, and I liked it, thought it might work well for the scene. Anyways, I don't own Brian Slade and I don't own Curt Wild, everything belongs to the wonderful creator of Velvet Goldmine. I'm going to start it with a few lyrics of the song. Hope you enjoy it.
Baby's on fire
Better throw her in the water
Look at her laughing
Like a heifer to the slaughter
Curt Wild moaned in the darkness of the secluded club, running his fingers through his bleached hair. There had been a time when it was brown, but someone.well, he had allowed someone to change that. And they had had fun together, for a little while, but it always seemed one of them found some way to ruin it. Curt with his wild, and utterly careless manner and yet an untamed rage resting inside of him, easy to bring out. And the other.Brian Slade. Brian, with his cockiness and god-like attitude. His image was everything; it had always been everything to him. Only, it was just now he was able to look back and realize that.
" Fuckin' bastard of a rock singer." Curt murmured in the sweet oblivion of cigarette smoke and hard liquor. His tongue slipped over his mouth, the faint trace of some exotic drink still lingering on his pale lips.
The blonde sneered painfully; his words only some distant try to keep away the tears. Never in all his life as a Glam Rock star had he allowed himself to cry. And he would not allow anyone like Brian Slade to make him cry. Not by his actions, nor by his " death."
Lowering his eyes with a sigh, he let the brown hues run over the black and white pictures and words. 'Singer Brian Slade Shot on Stage!' And Brian, with his head canted to the side slightly, eyes dark and uncaring. A beautiful picture, even with its lack of color.
A tinge of pain touched him, and his fingers curled around the small table's edge. Somehow, when Brian managed to be cruel to the world, his eyes holding a hardness, his lips slacked into a careless smirk, when he turned his eyes to Curt a smile would touch his colored lips, and a bit of happiness would gleam into his eyes. Curt supposed it was the same with him, though he had always had an easier time laughing and smiling then Brian.
Ye Gods, there had been a time though when each of them were as happy as ever, laughing and hanging onto each other while their bodies swung to music in clubs. A time when neither of them truly cared about their carrier, a time when they could have possibly truly loved each other.
" Fuckin' memories." The blonde groaned, pushing the newspaper away. Brian wasn't dead; Brian had called him. Brian's death was a fake. Publicity stunt, he guessed. But the memories remained, playing over and over in his mind till he had no choice but to go back to them.
*****
" I raise a glass to the loveliest man in Europe." Curt whispered, lifting the wine glass slowly while Brian lifted his. There was a swoon from the fifty or so men around them, snickers and laughs.
Dressed in the older time clothes, the golden slacks, long jacket and shirt beneath, while Brian wore something similar though multi-colored and glittery, the two were bound to make something in the headlines. Though neither of them cared about that right now, not one. Blue eyes met brown ones, and Brian smiled faintly as he took a sip from Curt's glass, the other man taking a sip from Brian's. The glasses were thrown and Curt stepped closer.
One of his hands came up, gently touching the smaller man's shoulder; his head leaning in closer while a smile lingered with his lips. Brian's blue eyes batted close, the light green shade of powder lining his eyes faded now. But they opened at Curt's gentle touch, his warm breath sliding down around him, the faint scent of wine and cigarettes accompanying it.
" The curves of your lips, rewrite history." The dark haired man leaned forward, capturing the other's mouth in a kiss. Nothing pushy though, nothing frantic; just a kiss which lingered on for a few silent moments. So much for the interview.
*****
A dark hand rested casually against the sleeping man's back, and the now rather famous rock singer smiled a little in his pretend sleep. Strands of his hair fell absently around his face, the dark colored wisps blowing around lightly at the nape of his neck with the afternoon breeze. Breeze.
Curt sat up slowly, his hand sliding down Brian's back in his movements. Blinking the brightness of the day away, he turned his gaze upon the window. It was open, odd, he hadn't left it open and he was damned sure Brian hadn't woken up in the night to open a window.
Sweeping a hand through his hair, the lithe form slid from the soft bed, his hands groping for the leather pants he had earlier worn. Found 'em. Sliding the cool material up his legs, he glanced sideways at the man still lying rather comfortably in the large bed. Curt shook his head. The dark kohl rimming his light eyes had faded over the night's actions, over the concerts and parties afterwards.
How easily though he had made his way out of everything, standing slowly while the hands of various women and men traveled down his chest, feeling and fondling every little ripple of exposed flesh. Not a care for them though. Not for any of them. His gaze had wavered while walking out of that room, catching Brian's blue eyes, and an amused look had shined its way into the brown depths.
Brian had understood, Brian had stood and followed him, despite the jealous looks from his wife Mandy and the new girl Shannon. Well, he had to give Brian credit for that much. Not that he really believed he deserved too much of it, Brian always found a way to use someone.
Bending at the waist, Curt snatched up the pack of cigarettes before dropping down into a chair, feet rising only to fall down on the bed edge again. Lighter in hand, he bent his head, lighting the strip of white paper and nicotine. A drag from the object, the smoke exhaled with the easiness that only accompanied a long time smoker, and Curt raised an eyebrow at the sleeping boy.
His foot extended and kicked Brian's leg. The blue haired man groaned and pulled deeper into the sweet oblivion of sleep, his head falling more comfortably against the pillows.
" You just going to lie there all day or get up?" Curt murmured, taking another drag of the cigarette.
" What's it to you." Brian murmured back, sighing as the last ruminates of sleep faded away from him. So much for sleeping in today.
Sitting up, the white sheet falling down around his waist he glanced sideways at the other man. " Mandy was here earlier, I saw her."
" So she was the one who opened the fuckin' window." The other replied with a sneer, taking the cigarette from his mouth and grinding it into the table next to him.
Brian remained silent watching him. " Last night.last night was fun." Brian spoke up while slipping from the bed, the sheets falling back down onto the mattress, a small imprint of his form still there. " Fun? I wouldn't use the word fun." Curt sneered, taking a sideways glance at the pale flesh close to him.
" Get dressed, your little dog Shannon will be heartbroken if we don't make it to the early breakfast." Laughing a little he stood, tossing Brian's pants to him along with the variously colored shirt.
*****
" Oh, it looks wonderful!" Brian gasped from behind the mirror, running his fingers through his lover's bleached hair. " I love your hair, Curt."
" That's fuckin' wonderful Brian. Now aren't we going to color it?" Curt seemed a little less enthusiastic about the now blonde hair of his. There was no color anymore, no true darkness to it. No more darkness on him. Well, if you didn't count the dark tone his eyes had taken on, the black eyeliner surrounding the colored hues, the dark powder. The only makeup he'd stand to wear. And it seemed to work pretty well, after all, hadn't Brian told him a million times how much he loved his eyes?
" I don't know if we should color it. I mean.I like it blonde. No use in making it purple or some shit." Brian's smooth tone of voice brought him back to reality, and blinking, Curt rolled one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug.
" Alright then, blonde it is." Standing up, Brian's tender hands slid down his bare chest, stopping where the leather material came into play, tightly molded against his flesh, hugging his hips. Brian slipped a finger into the belt loop of the blonde's pants, his other hand traveling up Curt's back, his fingers barely touching the well defined muscles and ripples that time had gifted him with. A few scars, a few bruises, but all in all, Curt was perfect. Painted lips fell, gently pressing to the back of Curt's neck, and a smile touched the blonde's the lips.
*****
A sigh passed through his lips and Curt lowered his legs from the table, his gaze flickering to one of the clocks on the wall. Midnight, well he still had two hours to go until the club closed.
Odd, how no one had bothered him, no one had given him a second glance the moment his black boots had hit the floor of this place. A year ago everyone would have turned heads and swooned. His hand came out, grasping the bottle of beer, and tossing back a few gulps of the yellow liquid, he almost felt a little better.
Still though, he had to go back further. He couldn't pretend that everything which had happened with him and Brian was all good. That would just be lying, and Brian had often hated him for how much he spoke the truth.
" You never lie, Curt. Not even when it would save you so much pain."
" And you, Mr. Slade, have always lied."
The two sentences swirled together in his mind, the voices as clear as if they had just been spoken. Good enough entry for the bad times. Lighting a cigarette, the blonde took a long drag before exhaling the smoke slowly, letting it mingle above his head before fading away into some distant darkness.
*****
Brian slid his hands over his wet shirt and sighed from the doorway of their apartment. Well, Curt's apartment. Shaking his head, he tore the shirt from his hot body, kicking his boots off his feet easily.
Curt remained in his earlier position, lying on the couch languidly and thumbing through an old book. Not even a hello. It was just too easy to ignore Brian now, after what he had done. Then again, maybe it was just his own jealousy which had finally gotten too strong.
Placing his hands on his hips, the blue haired man frowned slightly. " Are you coming to bed?" A pause, and then Curt shook his head no, turning a page of the novel casually. The light cast its eerie shadows of the blonde. Really Curt did look too cruel sitting there, so easily passing the other by as if here were nothing anymore. And he damn well deserved to be nothing now.
Growling, Brian slunk away.
" One.two.three." Curt counted by the second, and not even ten passed before the smaller man returned, leaning once more against the wall with his arms folded across his chest, eyes peering at the blonde.
Of course, Curt's eyes never wavered from the book that held him in such a deep state of concentration. " Curt." No answer. Brian bit his bottom lip, " Curt!"
Turning another page, brown eyes lifted to meet the angered blues ones. "What, is it now Brian?"
" I don't see why you're so uptight." Pushing his lithe form off the wall, he slunk to a chair, falling back into the soft fabric willingly. " What's wrong with you now? There's always something wrong with Curt Wild." He shook his head slowly, wisps of the blue hair falling in his eyes.
" What's wrong with me?" Curt glared over at him, tossing the article of paper aside as he stood up with a sigh. " You were drooling and hanging all over that boy earlier. You two danced like.like I wasn't anything to anyone! But that's typical, isn't it? What do you think I am, Brian? Fucking blind?"
" You're imagining things, you've always have! If me dancing with someone is going to make your jealous, well, I'm sorry. Alright? Besides.there wasn't anything between that boy and me, dancing is dancing. " Brian shot back, waving his hands around to emphasize his point.
" Like fuck their wasn't! And hell, if I'm imagining things, then fine. I don't see why should give a shit." Curt murmured in the darkness of the apartment, picking up the magazine again.
" Fine!" the man snapped, standing from the chair and moving back into the bedroom. Of course the door slammed shut.
" Fucker." Curt sighed, tossing the magazine away from him while he curled up on the couch, the light fading away from the windows.
*****
" Won't you come with me." Curt sung out lowly into the microphone, his hands on the earphone over him. He shot a glance to the glass window, Brian and the others standing there patiently, waiting for him to finish this song. There was a smile, and he turned his brown eyes back to in front of him, hands sliding down his sides, over the soft ebony material.
And then the music stopped, he blinked, " What? What, what's wrong?"
Brian cast a hesitant glance to Curt and shrugged a shoulder, " Again."
Curt's eyes narrowed and he growled, " What? What did you say?" He didn't listen to anything else, all he had to do was watch Brian turn his back. " Brian." Surprisingly he managed to keep his voice relatively calm, till that slender form slouched and turned away, his arms folded behind his head.
He lost it. That simple really, his tongue flipping out insults faster then what he thought was truly possible. His blonde hair flew around him as he banged his fist against the glass, " Mother fuckin' bastard! I didn't change a mother fucking thing, you were with your fuckin' god-like attidue. You think your perfect? You think you don't feel pain Brian! Well fuck you! Fuck you! Get in here, I'll show you fucking pain!" It didn't matter that they couldn't hear him anymore, he knew that the sound had been turned off. Jerry had been wise enough to keep Brian from hearing his outbursts. Oh well, fuck the lot of them. What did it matter?
*****
" Well fine, leave! I don't care, go ahead. Go back to your junkies, your wolves! And fuck you too!" Brian yelled from the window, slamming the window closed tightly. Curt never even looked back, his steps fluent and fast over the hard floor beneath him. Fuck Brian, the little bastard never seemed to care about anyone's feelings but his own. That was Brian Slade, and people like Brian would always be like they were. So why did it hurt so much to leave?
Fingers ran through the messy strands of blonde, and the man turned the corner, his eyes downcast and yet stinging with pure and simple rage. " Fucking space queen."
*****
The blonde spun at the feel of another's fingers on his shoulder. His eyes were glaring, the cigarette burnt half way down.
" I'm sorry sir.but we're closing." The tiny man murmured, his dark hair falling absently around his face, chunks of it in his eyes. Curt pushed the chair away from him and stood, flicking the cigarette onto the ground and smashing it into the hard floor with his boot. The man gave him a disapproving look but didn't say anything else.
His steps were fast and fluent, and he seemed more to glide out of that smokey club then actual walk. His hands were shoved into the jacket's pockets, the leather pants hugging his legs and skin almost too tightly, and yet he didn't care anymore about anything. Only dimly aware of the coldness swirling around him, the night breeze fluttering around his lithe form.
The sudden roar of music and screaming fans caught him off guard in the almost perfectly still night. Curt stumbled on the walkway, turning his head slightly to the building where the sound came from. A faint smile touched his lips when he realized the place. His last concert had been held there, or his last performance really.
As of now, he went were he wanted to, saw what he wanted to see, and quite frankly did what he wanted to do. All of it was done with emptiness though. There wasn't a care for anything, not for the dying years of glam rock, the former sings, Jack Fairy and the whole fucking lot.
Shaking his head a little, Curt disappeared into the darkness; heading the few blocks it would take to get to his new home. " Goodbye Brian. I hope you're happy with your fucking life now. Looks like you got to be Maxwell Demon after all."
They said you were hot stuff
And that's what baby's been reduced to
Introduction: Well, after watching Velvet Goldmine for around the 10th time, I finally decided to sit down and write a fanfic with it. Amazing.but like you didn't see it coming. For once, it's not a songfic, thank the gods. The reason it's called Baby's On Fire is simply because one of Brian Slade's songs is titled that, and I liked it, thought it might work well for the scene. Anyways, I don't own Brian Slade and I don't own Curt Wild, everything belongs to the wonderful creator of Velvet Goldmine. I'm going to start it with a few lyrics of the song. Hope you enjoy it.
Baby's on fire
Better throw her in the water
Look at her laughing
Like a heifer to the slaughter
Curt Wild moaned in the darkness of the secluded club, running his fingers through his bleached hair. There had been a time when it was brown, but someone.well, he had allowed someone to change that. And they had had fun together, for a little while, but it always seemed one of them found some way to ruin it. Curt with his wild, and utterly careless manner and yet an untamed rage resting inside of him, easy to bring out. And the other.Brian Slade. Brian, with his cockiness and god-like attitude. His image was everything; it had always been everything to him. Only, it was just now he was able to look back and realize that.
" Fuckin' bastard of a rock singer." Curt murmured in the sweet oblivion of cigarette smoke and hard liquor. His tongue slipped over his mouth, the faint trace of some exotic drink still lingering on his pale lips.
The blonde sneered painfully; his words only some distant try to keep away the tears. Never in all his life as a Glam Rock star had he allowed himself to cry. And he would not allow anyone like Brian Slade to make him cry. Not by his actions, nor by his " death."
Lowering his eyes with a sigh, he let the brown hues run over the black and white pictures and words. 'Singer Brian Slade Shot on Stage!' And Brian, with his head canted to the side slightly, eyes dark and uncaring. A beautiful picture, even with its lack of color.
A tinge of pain touched him, and his fingers curled around the small table's edge. Somehow, when Brian managed to be cruel to the world, his eyes holding a hardness, his lips slacked into a careless smirk, when he turned his eyes to Curt a smile would touch his colored lips, and a bit of happiness would gleam into his eyes. Curt supposed it was the same with him, though he had always had an easier time laughing and smiling then Brian.
Ye Gods, there had been a time though when each of them were as happy as ever, laughing and hanging onto each other while their bodies swung to music in clubs. A time when neither of them truly cared about their carrier, a time when they could have possibly truly loved each other.
" Fuckin' memories." The blonde groaned, pushing the newspaper away. Brian wasn't dead; Brian had called him. Brian's death was a fake. Publicity stunt, he guessed. But the memories remained, playing over and over in his mind till he had no choice but to go back to them.
*****
" I raise a glass to the loveliest man in Europe." Curt whispered, lifting the wine glass slowly while Brian lifted his. There was a swoon from the fifty or so men around them, snickers and laughs.
Dressed in the older time clothes, the golden slacks, long jacket and shirt beneath, while Brian wore something similar though multi-colored and glittery, the two were bound to make something in the headlines. Though neither of them cared about that right now, not one. Blue eyes met brown ones, and Brian smiled faintly as he took a sip from Curt's glass, the other man taking a sip from Brian's. The glasses were thrown and Curt stepped closer.
One of his hands came up, gently touching the smaller man's shoulder; his head leaning in closer while a smile lingered with his lips. Brian's blue eyes batted close, the light green shade of powder lining his eyes faded now. But they opened at Curt's gentle touch, his warm breath sliding down around him, the faint scent of wine and cigarettes accompanying it.
" The curves of your lips, rewrite history." The dark haired man leaned forward, capturing the other's mouth in a kiss. Nothing pushy though, nothing frantic; just a kiss which lingered on for a few silent moments. So much for the interview.
*****
A dark hand rested casually against the sleeping man's back, and the now rather famous rock singer smiled a little in his pretend sleep. Strands of his hair fell absently around his face, the dark colored wisps blowing around lightly at the nape of his neck with the afternoon breeze. Breeze.
Curt sat up slowly, his hand sliding down Brian's back in his movements. Blinking the brightness of the day away, he turned his gaze upon the window. It was open, odd, he hadn't left it open and he was damned sure Brian hadn't woken up in the night to open a window.
Sweeping a hand through his hair, the lithe form slid from the soft bed, his hands groping for the leather pants he had earlier worn. Found 'em. Sliding the cool material up his legs, he glanced sideways at the man still lying rather comfortably in the large bed. Curt shook his head. The dark kohl rimming his light eyes had faded over the night's actions, over the concerts and parties afterwards.
How easily though he had made his way out of everything, standing slowly while the hands of various women and men traveled down his chest, feeling and fondling every little ripple of exposed flesh. Not a care for them though. Not for any of them. His gaze had wavered while walking out of that room, catching Brian's blue eyes, and an amused look had shined its way into the brown depths.
Brian had understood, Brian had stood and followed him, despite the jealous looks from his wife Mandy and the new girl Shannon. Well, he had to give Brian credit for that much. Not that he really believed he deserved too much of it, Brian always found a way to use someone.
Bending at the waist, Curt snatched up the pack of cigarettes before dropping down into a chair, feet rising only to fall down on the bed edge again. Lighter in hand, he bent his head, lighting the strip of white paper and nicotine. A drag from the object, the smoke exhaled with the easiness that only accompanied a long time smoker, and Curt raised an eyebrow at the sleeping boy.
His foot extended and kicked Brian's leg. The blue haired man groaned and pulled deeper into the sweet oblivion of sleep, his head falling more comfortably against the pillows.
" You just going to lie there all day or get up?" Curt murmured, taking another drag of the cigarette.
" What's it to you." Brian murmured back, sighing as the last ruminates of sleep faded away from him. So much for sleeping in today.
Sitting up, the white sheet falling down around his waist he glanced sideways at the other man. " Mandy was here earlier, I saw her."
" So she was the one who opened the fuckin' window." The other replied with a sneer, taking the cigarette from his mouth and grinding it into the table next to him.
Brian remained silent watching him. " Last night.last night was fun." Brian spoke up while slipping from the bed, the sheets falling back down onto the mattress, a small imprint of his form still there. " Fun? I wouldn't use the word fun." Curt sneered, taking a sideways glance at the pale flesh close to him.
" Get dressed, your little dog Shannon will be heartbroken if we don't make it to the early breakfast." Laughing a little he stood, tossing Brian's pants to him along with the variously colored shirt.
*****
" Oh, it looks wonderful!" Brian gasped from behind the mirror, running his fingers through his lover's bleached hair. " I love your hair, Curt."
" That's fuckin' wonderful Brian. Now aren't we going to color it?" Curt seemed a little less enthusiastic about the now blonde hair of his. There was no color anymore, no true darkness to it. No more darkness on him. Well, if you didn't count the dark tone his eyes had taken on, the black eyeliner surrounding the colored hues, the dark powder. The only makeup he'd stand to wear. And it seemed to work pretty well, after all, hadn't Brian told him a million times how much he loved his eyes?
" I don't know if we should color it. I mean.I like it blonde. No use in making it purple or some shit." Brian's smooth tone of voice brought him back to reality, and blinking, Curt rolled one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug.
" Alright then, blonde it is." Standing up, Brian's tender hands slid down his bare chest, stopping where the leather material came into play, tightly molded against his flesh, hugging his hips. Brian slipped a finger into the belt loop of the blonde's pants, his other hand traveling up Curt's back, his fingers barely touching the well defined muscles and ripples that time had gifted him with. A few scars, a few bruises, but all in all, Curt was perfect. Painted lips fell, gently pressing to the back of Curt's neck, and a smile touched the blonde's the lips.
*****
A sigh passed through his lips and Curt lowered his legs from the table, his gaze flickering to one of the clocks on the wall. Midnight, well he still had two hours to go until the club closed.
Odd, how no one had bothered him, no one had given him a second glance the moment his black boots had hit the floor of this place. A year ago everyone would have turned heads and swooned. His hand came out, grasping the bottle of beer, and tossing back a few gulps of the yellow liquid, he almost felt a little better.
Still though, he had to go back further. He couldn't pretend that everything which had happened with him and Brian was all good. That would just be lying, and Brian had often hated him for how much he spoke the truth.
" You never lie, Curt. Not even when it would save you so much pain."
" And you, Mr. Slade, have always lied."
The two sentences swirled together in his mind, the voices as clear as if they had just been spoken. Good enough entry for the bad times. Lighting a cigarette, the blonde took a long drag before exhaling the smoke slowly, letting it mingle above his head before fading away into some distant darkness.
*****
Brian slid his hands over his wet shirt and sighed from the doorway of their apartment. Well, Curt's apartment. Shaking his head, he tore the shirt from his hot body, kicking his boots off his feet easily.
Curt remained in his earlier position, lying on the couch languidly and thumbing through an old book. Not even a hello. It was just too easy to ignore Brian now, after what he had done. Then again, maybe it was just his own jealousy which had finally gotten too strong.
Placing his hands on his hips, the blue haired man frowned slightly. " Are you coming to bed?" A pause, and then Curt shook his head no, turning a page of the novel casually. The light cast its eerie shadows of the blonde. Really Curt did look too cruel sitting there, so easily passing the other by as if here were nothing anymore. And he damn well deserved to be nothing now.
Growling, Brian slunk away.
" One.two.three." Curt counted by the second, and not even ten passed before the smaller man returned, leaning once more against the wall with his arms folded across his chest, eyes peering at the blonde.
Of course, Curt's eyes never wavered from the book that held him in such a deep state of concentration. " Curt." No answer. Brian bit his bottom lip, " Curt!"
Turning another page, brown eyes lifted to meet the angered blues ones. "What, is it now Brian?"
" I don't see why you're so uptight." Pushing his lithe form off the wall, he slunk to a chair, falling back into the soft fabric willingly. " What's wrong with you now? There's always something wrong with Curt Wild." He shook his head slowly, wisps of the blue hair falling in his eyes.
" What's wrong with me?" Curt glared over at him, tossing the article of paper aside as he stood up with a sigh. " You were drooling and hanging all over that boy earlier. You two danced like.like I wasn't anything to anyone! But that's typical, isn't it? What do you think I am, Brian? Fucking blind?"
" You're imagining things, you've always have! If me dancing with someone is going to make your jealous, well, I'm sorry. Alright? Besides.there wasn't anything between that boy and me, dancing is dancing. " Brian shot back, waving his hands around to emphasize his point.
" Like fuck their wasn't! And hell, if I'm imagining things, then fine. I don't see why should give a shit." Curt murmured in the darkness of the apartment, picking up the magazine again.
" Fine!" the man snapped, standing from the chair and moving back into the bedroom. Of course the door slammed shut.
" Fucker." Curt sighed, tossing the magazine away from him while he curled up on the couch, the light fading away from the windows.
*****
" Won't you come with me." Curt sung out lowly into the microphone, his hands on the earphone over him. He shot a glance to the glass window, Brian and the others standing there patiently, waiting for him to finish this song. There was a smile, and he turned his brown eyes back to in front of him, hands sliding down his sides, over the soft ebony material.
And then the music stopped, he blinked, " What? What, what's wrong?"
Brian cast a hesitant glance to Curt and shrugged a shoulder, " Again."
Curt's eyes narrowed and he growled, " What? What did you say?" He didn't listen to anything else, all he had to do was watch Brian turn his back. " Brian." Surprisingly he managed to keep his voice relatively calm, till that slender form slouched and turned away, his arms folded behind his head.
He lost it. That simple really, his tongue flipping out insults faster then what he thought was truly possible. His blonde hair flew around him as he banged his fist against the glass, " Mother fuckin' bastard! I didn't change a mother fucking thing, you were with your fuckin' god-like attidue. You think your perfect? You think you don't feel pain Brian! Well fuck you! Fuck you! Get in here, I'll show you fucking pain!" It didn't matter that they couldn't hear him anymore, he knew that the sound had been turned off. Jerry had been wise enough to keep Brian from hearing his outbursts. Oh well, fuck the lot of them. What did it matter?
*****
" Well fine, leave! I don't care, go ahead. Go back to your junkies, your wolves! And fuck you too!" Brian yelled from the window, slamming the window closed tightly. Curt never even looked back, his steps fluent and fast over the hard floor beneath him. Fuck Brian, the little bastard never seemed to care about anyone's feelings but his own. That was Brian Slade, and people like Brian would always be like they were. So why did it hurt so much to leave?
Fingers ran through the messy strands of blonde, and the man turned the corner, his eyes downcast and yet stinging with pure and simple rage. " Fucking space queen."
*****
The blonde spun at the feel of another's fingers on his shoulder. His eyes were glaring, the cigarette burnt half way down.
" I'm sorry sir.but we're closing." The tiny man murmured, his dark hair falling absently around his face, chunks of it in his eyes. Curt pushed the chair away from him and stood, flicking the cigarette onto the ground and smashing it into the hard floor with his boot. The man gave him a disapproving look but didn't say anything else.
His steps were fast and fluent, and he seemed more to glide out of that smokey club then actual walk. His hands were shoved into the jacket's pockets, the leather pants hugging his legs and skin almost too tightly, and yet he didn't care anymore about anything. Only dimly aware of the coldness swirling around him, the night breeze fluttering around his lithe form.
The sudden roar of music and screaming fans caught him off guard in the almost perfectly still night. Curt stumbled on the walkway, turning his head slightly to the building where the sound came from. A faint smile touched his lips when he realized the place. His last concert had been held there, or his last performance really.
As of now, he went were he wanted to, saw what he wanted to see, and quite frankly did what he wanted to do. All of it was done with emptiness though. There wasn't a care for anything, not for the dying years of glam rock, the former sings, Jack Fairy and the whole fucking lot.
Shaking his head a little, Curt disappeared into the darkness; heading the few blocks it would take to get to his new home. " Goodbye Brian. I hope you're happy with your fucking life now. Looks like you got to be Maxwell Demon after all."
They said you were hot stuff
And that's what baby's been reduced to