Full summary: Alfred F. Jones is a famous and prosperous musician, who has a beautiful voice like an angel. A gift from the God himself, his managers say. He has fans all over the world, money, everything a person could want, but something feels missing. At one painful night, Alfred meets a person he should've not met.
Arthur Kirkland, a British soldier who died in Somme, is now an angel against his will in Heaven. He is sent on Earth, where he once walked, to save humans from dying at young age. His afterlife changes when he saves a human he can't forget. Arthur knows pain is inevitable.
"... Oh, the sky is so blue
The clouds so white
I laugh and run
With you by my side
But then I realize
That you are not real
You're just a ghost
An angel
and they don't know us
Ooh
Oh-oh-ooh
They don't know us
Angels in our hearts."
Alfred opened his eyes and smiled at his friends. He sat in a light blue room, and his friends and manager were behind the glass. He knew that they were crying. So beautiful was his song and his voice.
Alfred stood up, took his headphones off and put his guitar against the chair. He walked out of the room, and is immediately hugged by his mother, Angela Jones.
"Oh my God, Alfred!" she sobbed. "Your voice i-is so beautiful!" Angela withdrew from the hug and dried her tears off. Alfred's father, John, smiled and patted his son's shoulder.
"Alfred-kun, I think your new album is ready", his manager, Kiku, said with a calm tone. He was the only one who didn't cry. The musician was used to '-kun' thing, so he didn't try to get him to stop it.
"Good job as always, Alfred", the voice of Ivan Braginsky, his brother's, Matthew Williams', boyfriend, said. Ivan smiled, and Alfred couldn't help but feel a bit scared. Something in his smile made him feel uncomfortable, but they were still quite good friends. He and Matthew were both hockey players, and they met at a hockey game in Moscow.
"Here, brother", Matthew said, giving a glass full of water to his brother. Alfred startled, but took the glass and thanked his brother for it. He drank it; oh, how relieving it felt in his throath.
"Damn, bro, you almost scared me to death!" Alfred exclaimed, putting the glass on the white table next to him. Everything in that neat, small room in his studio was white or different shades of blue.
"Language, Alfred! Although you are famous, which I'm very proud of, doesn't mean you can swear while your old mother is here!" Angela shook her head, looking disappointed.
Matthew smiled sheepishly. "I think that is always the case."
"Нет, Matthew, it is not always the case", Ivan said quietly and kissed his boyfriend. He blushed, trying to push him away.
"Ivan, not in front of my parents!" the Canadian exclaimed, turning his back to his boyfriend. Their parents weren't homophobic, luckily, but Matthew was still a bit shy about it; after all, both were celebrities in their own countries. Alfred chuckled; his brother was scary when he's angry. Angela and John both laughed shortly, until Kiku decided to open his mouth.
"Alfred-kun, your interview starts in an hour and seventeen minutes. Did you forget it?" He said, looking at his memo.
"Oh, shit!" Alfred's eyes widened, as he remembered the interview later at that night.
"Alfred!" Angela said warningly.
"I'm sorry, but I really have to go!" He kissed his mother's cheek quickly and grapped his jacket, practically running out of the room. Kiku followed him, but at the door he bowed and thanked Alfred's family for the time.
Outside the building, Alfred's - more like Kiku's - black limousine was waiting for them already.
"Kiku, what would I do without you?" Alfred asked, slightly panting from the run, when he sat in the car. His manager sat next to him, but not too close. The musician figured out that it had something to do with his culture; it was quite different than his.
"I believe nothing, Alfred-kun", he said, writing something down on his memo. Alfred closed his eyes, rubbing his temples. Oh, he could feel a headache borning. He should take a painkiller before going to the interview. The limousine started moving, and it stopped here and there.
A calm silence fell between them. Kiku was deep in his thoughts, while Alfred prepared himself for tonight. Finally, the limousine stopped. The singer collected his things.
"I'll go and change my clothes, then I'll come back, ok? By the way, how much time is left?" Alfred asked, when he got out of the car.
"Hai, Alfred-kun. And the time left is one hour and two minutes. Be quick, please", Kiku said, not looking up.
"Yes sir!" Alfred made a mock salute and grinned, before closing the door. He walked across the sidewalk until he was in front of his apartment. It looked more like a skyscaper than an apartment, but still, it was his home. The singer walked to elevator, pressed a button and waited. Soon it came and Alfred walked in. He pressed again a button where read '46' and leaned against the metal wall, when the elevator moved up.
He sighed. It was a routine to him, and he was growing bored to it. He needed changes, but as far as he knew, there weren't any coming. The elevator stopped, and Alfred walked out. 'Floor 46' read at the wall with grey letters.
The singer started walking again, until he saw the door of his apartment. He stopped in front of it, glancing at his neighbor's door, before going in his own home. It seemed like it that Francis had left already.
Alfred's apartment was small, average, not clean, but not messy. To someone else's eyes it might look messy, but not to his. Windows were big, and one could see from the door the landscape of New York and its many, shining lights. It was a sight Alfred could never get bored to.
He walked to his bedroom, putting the lights on. He sighed. He should really clean here. Some of his clothes were thrown across the room and he hadn't made his bed.
Alfred changed his black and orange hoodie and black pants to a black suit with a white vest and a grey tie. He put some perfume to his wrists and neck. It was a habit from that time when people were starting to know him. He had been in many programmes, and he certainly didn't want to smell like sweat in live broadcast.
"I seem to like black a lot", Alfred muttered to himself and grinned. He walked through his living room to the door, before glancing at his home. The couch, his HDTV, a glass table; everything was familiar to him and in order.
"Look at me, I'm getting sentimental", Alfred laughed, before walking outside and locking the door behind him.
OoOoOoOo
The drive was short to the TV-station. Kiku said that he had to be positive and charming, that's why his fans loved him. Alfred had smiled and said he'll do his best and left. Now, when he was sitting at a boring, trying-to-be-lively waiting room, he felt more nervous than ever. He put his head between his hands, rubbing his temples. The headache he foresaw didn't come.
"Now, welcome one of our country's most famous singer with a voice like an angel, Alfred F. Jones!" Alfred stood up, smiled brightly and walked from the waiting room to the stage. Immediately, all the cameras were targeted at him, and all the watchers in the stand cheered and clapped. Alfred's smile grew wider.
He sat down opposite the host, John Davidson. He had grey suit, a blue tie and grey shoes, but his hair was brown. Grey seemed to be the color of the month, Alfred thought. John was smiling, like the singer.
"Ah, welcome, Alfred. Can I call you Alfred?" He winked.
"Yes, you can, Mr. Davidson." Alfred answered, making himself comfortable on the light brown couch. He had no idea why it was brown.
"Please, Alfred, call me John", the host said, sitting up straighter. "So, let's begin. What's up?" The audience laughed.
"Nothing much, I guess", Alfred changed his expression to thoughtful. "I just finished my new album before I came here."
The audience murmured shortly. The host raised his eyebrows. The album would be his third one, and the two before it had been hits. Everyone was waiting eagerly, and now, finally, new songs from the musician.
"I've heard rumours that you were making a new album and it seems that it is true. How many songs there are going to be and what's the name of it?" he asked, his expression interested.
"20, if I remember right. It's name is Angels", Alfred replied.
"Angels? Interesting name. Where did you get the inspiration?" John asked, leaning forwards.
"Believe it or not, I was in a taxi, and when I looked at the sky above Manhattan, I thought: 'Are there really angels?'" The singer said, glancing at one of the cameras.
"But", Alfred interrupted John before he could say anything, "The album isn't religious. It's more about the world, the humans here and... Loneliness." He felt a twinge in his heart. He had lived alone since he moved from Chicago to New York. Alfred felt the need to love, feel a lover's body against his. But he also knew that it was impossible. If he would ever have a lover, he knew that the paparazzis would immediately start taking pictures of them and the newspapers would write rumours. The stress would be impossible to handle.
"Ah, quite deep topic, am I right?" John laughed nervously. Alfred nodded and answered to questions, told him, told to the whole world things he had to say. Then, John leaned closer to him. He acted like he was coughing.
"Alfred, can I ask you a trustful question?" He asked quietly, although Alfred knew that everyone could hear it in now quiet place.
"Yes, go ahead",
"Do you have a lover? A girlfriend or boyfriend?" He asked. It felt like the whole audience is holding their breaths, waiting for an answer.
Alfred smiles sadly, before answering. Again that small twinge in his heart.
"No, I don't have a lover. I guess I'm just waiting for the right one to come."
Most of the humans have always seeked for love and happiness. And Alfred knew that he was one of them.
A new story! Yay *laughs nervously* I actually got this idea while I was listening music and then I wrote it down. I'll try to update this every week, like my other fic, but let's see how it'll go.
And that song at the beginning of the chapter is just from my imagination. It has nothing to do with reality.
Well, I ranted, so I'll go and read to my German exam and *sigh* then I have to empty the dishwasher.
Reviews are always appreciated, wrether negative or positive. Cookies and juice to you!
Thanks for reading!