ABSOLUTE BEGINNERS - CHAPTER ONE

Curt Wild sat alone in his apartment. It wasn't odd for him to be alone, he was most of the time,
whether he wanted to be or not.

It had taken a few years for him to get over the initial shock of being washed-up -- his sharply
declining popularity forced him into more dangerous habits than he would have normally risked,
pushing him lower and lower until he hit the very bottom pit of humanity. But what was fame,
after all?

Fame was nothing, when you had no choice but to be alone. Fame was nothing, if you had no
one to comfort you, to save you from yourself. So being a nobody, that was good. He could
choose to be a solitary creature. As a nobody, Curt could walk down the street unnoticed. If he
bumped into a stranger, they would not show a glint of a glimmer of recognition.

And it was true. He revelled in his anonymity. Just a few days before, he had bumped into
someone -- that pesky reporter from the Herald ... of course he hadn't known at the time that he
worked for the Herald, but that's just the way the world seems to work -- the bloke didn't even
blink twice before hurrying off on his merry way.

It was all Brian's fault. Brian liked to be alone. He couldn't handle people, so he tricked them,
manipulated them. He destroyed his name, his friends, his family, and finally himself, just to be
reborn a singular success, free from any baggage he may have picked up on his rise to stardom.
A sad joke, that's what it was. Everyone who had ever seemed important in that world, in that
bygone era, was set adrift, marooned by Brian's selfishness and greed. Mandy, ripped apart by
a cheating, lying, husband. Cecil, tossed aside like an old overcoat. Fairy, doomed to drown in a
sea of forgotten names and repressed memories. And Devine, he was dead. So was Curt, for
the most part.

He could remember the farewell concert better than the years since. "Death to Glitter!" it hailed,
a majestic good-bye to a dying breed. He wretched his heart out that night, for everyone and
everything that had happened. For himself. And for Brian.

Fairy had pulled him aside as he rushed off stage.

"Look at the crowd." he said, holding him back. Thousands of people. Thousands. Screaming
his name as if it were sacred. Prostrating themselves for as if for a god; their fallen idol. "You will
never see anything like that again."

And as he stared into the crowd, the picture before him emblazoned itself in his memory. Curt
would truly never see such a sight again. He turned, finally, willing to accept his demise with
grace. His last dance was over. It was time to bury the dead.

But from the corner of his eye, Curt saw a flashing smile from someone standing in the wing. He
studied the boy for a moment, marvelling in envy at the innocent face, so plastered with euphoric
happiness. A perfect candidate for Curt's final conquest. He'd top the bill with this one. Coyly he
shot a glance at the boy, tilting his head towards the door. The boy just smiled back, grinning
brilliantly.

Curt seemed to recall that smile vividly, filling him with nostalgic warmth. But, somehow, it was
too vivid a memory for just that tiny single moment. He must have seen it before, somewhere ...
it lingered on his thoughts as if it had been only yesterday.

But wait.
It had been only yesterday.

Because the smile Curt Wild was seeing held two different forms, each fighting for precedence
in his mind.

The first appearance undoubtedly came from the boy he'd fucked on the roof ten years ago.

The second was from that reporter.

Note: Ooooh, cliffy! Don't you just hate me, reader luvvies? I've read a number of Curt/Arthur
stories, and I have to say, it's so predictable having Arthur run after Curt as if he hadn't aged
since their last encounter. Puh-leeze. No self-respecting journalist would go chasing after a
childhood idol for a shag. How embarrassing! This is my take on the pairing. Like it or leave it --
PLEASE leave a comment, cos I don't know if anyone's actually reading this!