Wow, this is short. I didn't realize just how short it was. Anyway, I don't own Velvet Goldmine or Curt or Brian.... but I can dream, can't I? This is my first VG fic, so please R+R!
The crowd wasn't happy. I could hear the jeers from behind the stage and I moved to look out at the stage. I could see it at an angle, and the sight brought a smile to my lips.
At first glance I thought he was a girl. He was wearing a dress. A dress! To each his own, I guess, but I wouldn't be caught dead in the silky purple number. His face was sculpted beautifully and the lips forming the words were perfect, lush and red, darkened with lipstick. I recognized the song but not his voice; I had never heard him before. His hair was long and hid part of his face, but not his eyes. They were a beautiful, shining blue, steely and determined, but I saw anger and disappointment in their depths, something I was infinitely familiar with.
My smile disappeared as the song ended and a hand landed on my bare shoulder. "We're on."
The performance was a blur. They hated me, and I loved it. I fed off their anger, thrived on it. It was like oxygen feeding a flame. Most performers wouldn't have the guts to jump into that crowd. I did. After all, I *am* Curt Wild and I have a reputation to uphold.
I knew I'd have bruises the next day. The abuse of the crowd as I surfed over them made sure of that. But they didn't drop me, not until I was ready to fall at the edge of the crowd. I landed on my knees, beside the tube of glitter I had thrown earlier. I reached for it and looked up.
He was standing a few feet away, staring at me with those breathtaking blue eyes, flanked by a young woman and a man. I dismissed them both and focused on the kid. A smile dawning, I got slowly to my feet. "Hey, Sebastian," I called and tossed him the glitter. "Good luck."
I turned back and sauntered back, ready for more abuse. All the while I felt his eyes on me, watching, memorizing. I grinned at nothing and dove back into the crowd.
The crowd wasn't happy. I could hear the jeers from behind the stage and I moved to look out at the stage. I could see it at an angle, and the sight brought a smile to my lips.
At first glance I thought he was a girl. He was wearing a dress. A dress! To each his own, I guess, but I wouldn't be caught dead in the silky purple number. His face was sculpted beautifully and the lips forming the words were perfect, lush and red, darkened with lipstick. I recognized the song but not his voice; I had never heard him before. His hair was long and hid part of his face, but not his eyes. They were a beautiful, shining blue, steely and determined, but I saw anger and disappointment in their depths, something I was infinitely familiar with.
My smile disappeared as the song ended and a hand landed on my bare shoulder. "We're on."
The performance was a blur. They hated me, and I loved it. I fed off their anger, thrived on it. It was like oxygen feeding a flame. Most performers wouldn't have the guts to jump into that crowd. I did. After all, I *am* Curt Wild and I have a reputation to uphold.
I knew I'd have bruises the next day. The abuse of the crowd as I surfed over them made sure of that. But they didn't drop me, not until I was ready to fall at the edge of the crowd. I landed on my knees, beside the tube of glitter I had thrown earlier. I reached for it and looked up.
He was standing a few feet away, staring at me with those breathtaking blue eyes, flanked by a young woman and a man. I dismissed them both and focused on the kid. A smile dawning, I got slowly to my feet. "Hey, Sebastian," I called and tossed him the glitter. "Good luck."
I turned back and sauntered back, ready for more abuse. All the while I felt his eyes on me, watching, memorizing. I grinned at nothing and dove back into the crowd.