Prologue:

"Harry, are you seeing anybody at the moment?" Dad made me freeze in the middle of eating dinner.

"Oh what have the tabloids being saying now? You shouldn't believe a word they say." I waved it off, holding in an internal cringe. I hated not being able to talk to my parents about what was really going on in this band, hated having to lie to them constantly. But I saw no way to actually tell them, they barely allowed me being in a band, saying it wasn't proper for someone from our family, especially with the 'sort' my band mates came from. I just had to lie, leave it as just being friends.

"You should know by now that I don't read tabloids, horrid things they are. But I do watch your interviews; you're awfully close to... Douglas, that's his name, right?" Dad continued, oh sh*t.

"It's Dougie, and that's because we're friends. He's a little nervous about things, you know? It's been four years, and he's still scared as ever about going out in public, so I give him a bit of protection, that's all." I lied, what had he seen? Oh God, what had Dad seen of me and Dougie? He certainly hadn't seen us kiss, we'd been careful, but what had he seen? I had to lie, had to lie as much as physically possible.

"Four years should be enough time to get over stage fright. If he's that scared, maybe he shouldn't be in a band." Mum joined in scornfully.

"Dougie loves it, he just gets scared, that's all. He loves making music and playing shows, he just, he just isn't quite sure of himself." I defended him, why did they have to be like this? Why did they have to look for reasons for our band to break up? Were they that desperate for me to be 'normal' and 'respectable?' because I didn't want to be, I wanted to be in a band, I wanted to be myself and play music, not become a doctor or a lawyer, or whatever the hell my parents wanted for me.

"I wouldn't be either, just look at how he acts! It's not at all polite, or sensible. It's almost like he was raised by wolves!" Mum said this at least once while I was down for a visit.

"And that isn't without talking about his clothes! Good lord, what does he think he's wearing, with all those bracelets and necklaces, shorts in the winter too! What kind of self respecting boy wears all that at nineteen?" Dad agreed.

"And those tattoos! How many is that now, four? He'll regret those when he's older, that's for sure." Mum continued, "How many do your other band mates have, there's another three on top, isn't there? I hope you never get a tattoo Harry, you're far too respectable to do something so stupid."

"Maybe they like having tattoos and dressing that way, and maybe they act like they do because they enjoy it and it's just the way they are. There's nothing wrong with anything my band mates do, it's all perfectly normal." I growled, wishing the subject would just get dropped. It was impossible to wish for some acceptance around here, but at the very least my parents could respect my wishes and my friends, instead of finding ways to tear everything to pieces.

"If that's normal then I hate to think what counts as abnormal to them! I hope you don't pay any attention to what they do, and certainly don't join in with their ridiculous antics. My youngest son will not be seen as a juvenile delinquent because of the stupid things his friends do. It's bad enough that you're even in a band instead of finishing school and going out to get a respectable job, but to also join in with those ridiculous games of theirs? Oh, I don't think I could handle it!" Mum made my blood boil.

"I'll have you know that my band mates and best friends are very respectable and talented people. They are not juvenile delinquents, and in fact are very nice people, if you ever bothered to spend any time with them, instead of judging from afar."

Is what I would have said if I was feeling brave enough, instead I took a calming breath, and forced myself to remain calm.

"May I be excused? I have a phone call to make." Was what I actually said, not waiting for a reply, leaving the table with my half full plate still hot. I wasn't hungry anymore; I never was when it came to staying at my parent's house. They were always so horrid about my friends and my profession, and I hated them more and more with every passing minute. And they thought that we were just my friends, if they knew what was really going on, that me and Dougie were lovers... my God, I dreaded to think what would happen.