Hi, I posted this on the Haven and thought I would post it here too! This is Part One. I hope you like it

Old Gregg: What do you think of me?

Howard: I don't rightly know, Sir.

Old Gregg: Make an assessment.

The night was beautiful and hazy; it had a dream-like quality which seemed to suggest that anything could happen; and probably would.

It didn't suit the bright neon lights outside the plain, brick building, blinking blue and pink in the darkness, occasionally lighting up the face of a bored bouncer talking to a coy charmer.

In the queue were people dressed in all the colours of the rainbow, all clashing with each other yet all fitting in. When your gaze moved, they flickered and looked like a kaleidoscope, twisting, moving, new but somehow the same.

Inside the club the strobe lights pulsed and the music swayed and the ocean of bodies rose to meet the current before sinking back and rocking into each other.

Cocktails with sunny umbrellas and cheeky names sailed over the heads of the dancers, being passed with flirtatious glances and whispered invitations.

This was the world of the young and the beautiful, the people who didn't want to fit in with the 9-5 club but desperately thrilled in their acceptance here, where if you wanted to play a part, you always had an audience.

In the corner, slightly huddled but leaning on a friend was man wearing a shimmery blue jumpsuit with little diamante edging down the sides. He was receiving admiring glances from everyone going past the corner to the bar and seemed to bask in the attention, smiling back.

The smile didn't reach his eyes, but in the dusky club, it didn't matter.

One of his friends whispered something in his ear and he bent to listen, his bright blue eyes sparkling underneath the overhead white light. Laughing and throwing back his midnight black hair he drew the attention of a man, standing just off to the right.

The rhythm picked up suddenly and the man moved forward, his blonde hair glinting off the sequins stuck onto his tshirt. Used to this, the man's crowd parted, after assessing his outfit and attractiveness and finding it satisfactory.

The bar's lights flickered, signalling the end of drinks soon and the crowd suddenly vanished, leaving a scent of hairspray and rootboost.

The two men found themselves together and the blonde whispered something in his ear, eliciting a naughty drunken smile. With a wave to his absent friends, and picking up his drink and downing it he teetered off on his heels, following his conquest.

Vince Noir woke up to a pounding headache, a lovebite on his neck and a note carelessly thrown onto his nightstand.

A note he, himself, had written many times before. A token response to a token night. Groaning and burrowing his head in the pillow he smelt a lingering scent of cigarette smoke and sex.

Raising his head and blinking blearily at the sun filtering through the curtain he felt a familiar rise of guilt, insecurity and shame. Normally, this was pushed back down with sunshine and confidence but it wasn't coming as easily as it had before and he felt himself deflate as he sank back into the pillow feeling his breathing speed up. What have I done?

Vince couldn't remember much, a couple of images like photographs – a drink, someone talking to him, that girl's red dress, staggering home.

With a juttery sigh he remembers the last image, looking into the guy's eyes as he came, and seeing nothing.

Shivering and moving underneath the covers Vince glanced to his left and saw the time. Thank god, it's 7am; I've got time to sort myself out.

Sighing and throwing his wobbly legs out of bed he quietly slipped to the bathroom, throwing the note into the bin.

After two hours of preparation, painstaking creating his look, Vince went back into his room and opened the wardrobe, mentally assessing what was in fashion, what was retro, was might be in fashion later today. That's it, thought Vince, putting on the outfit and checking in the mirror.

Howard also woke-up early, from a prompt 7am beep from his alarm clock. Noting it was refuse day he got up and prepared to put all the rubbish out.

Hearing Vince sing in the shower and smiling to himself he walked into Vince's room and sorted out his trash, seeing an open note on top he couldn't help himself and he picked it up, squinting to read the wobbly writing, 'Had fun last night, sorry I didn't use anything, see you around some time'.

Howard felt his chest get tight in anger, and something else that felt like an ache. Howard may have not got around as much as Vince, but even he understood the note. Vince thought he was worth this, this manufactured, drunken affection.

Not knowing what to feel, or even how to start he just stared at the note, then screwed it up tightly in his hand and put it into the black bag, feeling a headache start. It's going to be a long day.

Vince bounced down the stairs in his new red sequin boots and grinned at Howard, who didn't reach his gaze and just sat staring at a magazine.

'I'm late because…' he began with a slightly louder voice than usual.

'I don't know Vince,' said Howard, wearily.

Vince frowned and continued.

'Guess,' he said excitedly. Maybe something about being locked in a lift with a kleptomaniac iguana this time?

Howard breathed out steadily.

'Okay Vince, I'll play along,' he paused and looked up, coldly into Vince's eyes.

'Maybe it's because you were having sex with some random stranger and that caused you to oversleep?'

Vince's mouth dropped open and he felt an ache in his chest. Why was Howard saying this?

'That's not really the point Howard,' he said quietly, 'You're supposed to say something silly'.

'Maybe I'm tired Vince,' said Howard, going back to his magazine.

Vince felt his eyes start to tear so he bit his lip. This was the best part of his day, why was Howard ruining it? Who is he to judge me? I kissed him at his party and he rejected me.

The anger rose in Vince, an emotion he usually ignored and he felt his cheeks get hot.

'I don't see what it's got do with you anyway, he left early, and you didn't even see him!' he shouted.

Howard's mouth fell open, but he closed it quickly. He?

'It's more that you're off out, whoring yourself about all the time!' said Howard angrily, surprised at the reaction he was having to this, but unable to feel anything else.

Vince felt the tears start to fall so he went to turn away, feeling completely useless as he knocked over a little photo frame. Whoring myself about, whoring myself about, whoring myself about.

Vince picked up the photo frame and slowly walked upstairs, focusing on getting one foot in front of the other.

Step. It's only because you don't want me.

Step. It's only because you don't want me.

You went to be a famous actor; you didn't even look back, or think about me. I was never going to leave you.

Step. If the band took off, you were going to come too. Step.

As he saw Vince's eyes fill up with tears, Howard stood up and went to move towards him, but he didn't know what to do, what to say, so he just sat back down again and focused on his magazine, with a lump in his throat.

What happened to us?

Upon hearing Vince's door slam and the sound of suppressed sobbing, Naboo turned to Bollo and nodded carefully. 'It's time, Bollo.' Bollo shook his head.

'Too late. Vince and Howard broken'.

Naboo shook his head this time and moved to stand up.

'What's broken can always be fixed,' he said.

Naboo picked up a silver embroidered book, a little mirror and proceeded to whisper something into his reflection.

The next day Vince awoke to the sound of a ringing phone, moaning and rolling onto his side he reached for the extension – all calls were for him anyway, apart from Lester for Howard – and spoke blearily into the receiver.

'Hey, yeah I'm up…what? Um, I think he's asleep. Why do you want to…oh okay?'

Feeling completely confused Vince walked into Howard's room and felt the usual rush of affection; the anger of yesterday's fight fading as he watched him.

Howard was all snuggled up, wearing his favourite red plaid pyjamas and when he breathed out a curl resting on his cheek moved gently. I want to just go and lie beside him.

Vince coughed to wake Howard up, and then frowned as his head ached.

'Howard…phone.'

Howard woke up quickly, with a look of surprise. Why is Vince talking to me now? I was so horrible to him, wait, a phone call, for me?

Smiling awkwardly at Vince he took the phone and patted his bed, indicating Vince could sit.

'Um, hello?' he said cautiously, Lester didn't usually call this early; he had daily appointments at the hospital. A severed head takes a lot of medical care.

'Hey Howard,' said a bouncy voice, 'its Leroy. Are you coming out shopping with me today? I saw this totally cool jacket last week.' Howard blinked and made a face.

'What? Leroy, I think you want Vince, not me.' Leroy laughed.

'Nah, not him, he's a bit…embarrassing to have around, with his over-the-top style, I want your advice, you know, as a real man of action.'

Pinching himself to make sure it wasn't a dream, Howard turned to Vince, miming incomprehension and murmuring 'Yeah, outside here, 10'and hanging up.

'Vince,' he said slowly. 'Was that a joke?'

Vince tilted his head. 'No, why, what did Leroy want with you?'

Bristling a bit at Vince's tone, but ignoring it Howard said, 'He just invited me out. Shopping.'

Vince made a face of surprise, his mouth gaping and arms opening in a shocked gesture.

'What?! Why would he want to do that?'

'I don't know little man,' said Howard, the old nickname coming out by mistake and making him go pink. Don't start...

He called me little man. 'Well it's well weird, you know Howard. No offence though. What else did he say then?'

'Well,' started Howard, 'He said that he needed by advice, as a -' he paused, '...man of action.'

'Vince choked back a laugh, not succeeding as Howard playfully poked him. Man of action? The closest he gets is romantic dates with Lester and Miles Coltrane.

'Ow, you titbox. Maybe it's a joke or something, maybe he will want to go out with me when he comes,' said Vince.

'Yeah,' murmured Howard, not wanting to tell him what Leroy said about his dress sense. Vince may be over-the-top, but it works.

Howard felt Vince go quiet and he remembered the day before. 'Vince,' he started, feeling a sense of sadness at how easily Vince had forgiven him. He forgave me.

'Yes, Howard,' said Vince, turning around and looking earnest.

'I'm sorry,' he said slowly, feeling his shoulders relax as Vince awkwardly patted his hand, feeling the skin go hot.

'Nah, its wrong of me not to think of you,' said Vince.

'No, you're free to do…whatever you want.' Howard coughed at this. Smooth, Howard.

'Oh,' said Vince, a little sadly, but quickly perking up, 'Yeah I am free.'

Vince then stood up quickly, feeling taken aback by Howard's apology and Leroy's phone call.

An hour later and the shop was busy, full of people to see Howard. Young girls wandered in and, whilst twirling their hair coyly, had asked Howard to recommend some jazz to them.

Vince blanched at this and advised them to go Electro, but they glanced dismissively at him before looking back to Howard, with rapt attention. Why are they ignoring me?

Howard was loving the attention, his smile growing wider as the girls responded to his knowledge, and outright beaming when one of them admired Protractor Power Station.

Vince was confused and sat down on a stool. Why is no-one paying any attention to me? I checked the mirror, no my hair is fine. Great in fact. It should be drawing its usual mid-morning crowd.

Seeing his new copy of Cheekbone arrive, he ignored Howard's name on the label and gasped at he opened it. Howard's face was all over the cover. Not obscured, not blocked or blurred. On the cover, under 'Maverick Style Secrets'. Howard was grinning, he looked better than usual actually. He looked really good. Oh God.

Grabbing Howard's arm and dragging him up the stairs, going 'Sorry, back in a minute' to the protesting customers, he shoved the magazine into his face.

'Look, small eyes!'

'At what? Cheekbone? It's full of artificial colourings Vince; a man like me needs substance.'

'Shut up and look!'

'Oh...is this a joke? A mock-up cover? You were making a mockery of me with a mock-up?'

Vince rolled his eyes in frustration. 'No, look it's real, something's gone wrong, and we need to see Naboo.'

Walking into the main room they confronted Naboo, who complained loudly.

'Move away from the TV, that police car is about to get the criminal.'

'Stuff the criminal!' exclaimed Vince. 'We need help!'

Naboo placed an expression of innocence on his face. 'What have you two done now….something's changed has it?'

'Yes.' said Howard slowly, feeling suspicious. How did Naboo know something had changed?

Vince was oblivious. 'Yeah and that's why we need your help'

'No wait Vince,' said Howard. 'Naboo, how come you knew?'

Naboo sighed. 'Because you're always getting into trouble, aren't you?'

Vince was satisfied with this and went to continue. 'Yeah Howard, and we need him, everything has gone wrong.'

'Wrong?' said Naboo, trying to not look at Bollo who was frowning behind the men in confusion.

'Yeah, like everyone loves Howard, my friends, customers, even Cheekbone!' said Vince, as he held up the cover.

Howard frowned at this. Why is Vince always surprised? Am I that awful?

'Okay,' said Naboo calmly. 'And you Howard?'

'Well, people are nicer to me,' he said. 'Vince is probably jealous because no-one is looking at him.'

Vince frowned at this, hurt by what Howard said.

'No,' he said carefully, trying to explain. 'It's just; everything is different for no reason.'

'No, it's more like you can't take me getting any attention,' said Howard. Maybe people actually like me, someone other than you, and you've not exactly been friend of the year lately. Going out all the time, only paying attention to whats cool.

Vince didn't know what to say to this, he couldn't explain anything without sounding like he was jealous. Feeling despondent he turned to Bollo for help, but Bollo had a bored expression.

'Yeah Vinnie,' Bollo said. 'Get over it'.

Howard turned slowly. 'What did you say, Bollo?' expecting an insult.

'Vinnie is jealous of precious Howard.'

Vince just smiled smugly and turned to Howard. See.

'Well I might have accidentally done something,' said Naboo, figuring it was time to come clean. Besides, the advert break was nearly over and Clark from Alabama only had half a tank of gas to get to Albany on. That was going to be epic.

Howard narrowed his eyes. 'What did you do?' he said angrily.

'What needed to be done,' said Naboo simply, picking up his spell book and passing it over.

Vince took it and opened the page. 'Oh' he said softly.

'What is it, Vince?' said Howard, worried.

'It's a mirror spell, to switch people. Well not that, it's like more switching how people look at you.'

Silence stretched across the room as Howard and Vince looked at each other, both looked worried.

'So that means,' began Howard. 'That I am getting your reactions, what people think of you. That's why your friends like me, all of London fancies me, and Cheekbone, oh and Bollo.'

'And I'm getting your reactions...like no reaction,' finished Vince, nodding his head in agreement.

Naboo sighed, 'Yeah, now move, you're blocking the TV.'

'But how do we change back? I want my life back. Now.' said Vince hastily.

'That's for you to figure out,' said Naboo, not knowing himself but deciding to remain enigmatic. 'Now get back to work.'

Thanks for reading, PLEASE review! xxx