"I hope that its every thing that you dreamed about, be careful what you wish for. I hope that it's everything that you dreamed, when everything falling apart at the seams, and I know that you never believed in me dont ever let em fuck with your dreams..." -Puddle of Mudd
Arthur Kirkland was grinning in a seductive way as he ran off the stage, waving at his screaming fans. As soon as he was out of their sight the smile went away, replaced by a scowl. His bandmate, Francis Bonnefy, ran after him, grinning. "We did wonderful Mon cherie!" the other blond exclaimed at the annoyed looking Brit. Arthur rolled his eyes, scowling still.
"Whatever you say frog." Arthur snapped, rubbing his temples. He hated performing with a hang over. It sucked major ass. He asked one of the backstage hands for tylenol. The too eager big breasted brunette grinned, nodded, and ran off in search of the pills. Arthur sighed and leaned against a wall, frowning. It wasn't like he didn't like this life, what wasn't to like? But he just got so frustrated with being fake sometimes. All he wanted to do was play the music he had gone into this buisness for.
Pop music had never been his favorite thing to sing but the masses loved it. And what the masses loved the masses got. Whatever got his boss more money. He sighed as he thought back to his younger days. When singing had been fun. When Alfred had been with him. He chewed on his lip as memories flooded back, causing his eyes to sting. The brunette with the tylenol showed up again and he took it, numb. Now wasn't the time to be thinking of that.
Francis watched Arthur with a sad expression. It killed him to see his singing partner like this. But he couldn't help the Brit. Arthur had done this to himself and there was no way out. It was like the sandy blond was drowning in his mistakes. No one could save him from this life except one person. And the french man highly doubted that that blond would ever want to have anything to do with him again.
Arthur went out with his bandmates that night, drinking himself silly. They watched in dispair, unable to stop him from his downward spiral. "And I thought I drank a lot..." Gilbert said, frowning lightly. The albino didn't seem like he belonged in a boy band either and if it weren't for the money, he wouldn't be. He was good friends with the Brit, when he wasn't drunk that was. "Oh I know, Artie drinks more than all of us." Mathis said, frowning at the Brit who was downing drink after drink. The three men sighed at their companion, unsure of what to do.
"I'm cutting him off." Francis said, pulling a drunken fighting blond away from the bar. The others followed, frowning. Something had to be done.
Arthur was not happy, not at all. He kicked and screamed as they dragged him from the bar. He put up a pretty good fight too. He managed to make Francis cry and give Gilbert a bloody nose. Mathis was (sorta) smart and stayed behind them, only helping when Arthur got out of the others grip. He grabbed the smaller man and threw him over his shoulder. He didn't really care that pictures were being taken. Scandal sold and their boss LOVED that. He carried the fighting Arthur back to their hotel room, dropped him on the floor, and then passed out on his bed. Francis and Gilber just sighed at the sight and went to bed.
Ok, chapter one is here! I actually have it written up to chapter four -too lazy to post it all in one day-
This shall be relatively long, or i hope it will. Sorry if this chapter is short again. I'm trying!
The chapters will alternate p.o.v.'s. Arthur than Alfred. I feel like it would be easier. As of right now i have an estimate as to how this will go. Let's hope i can actually write the whole thing.
I decided on Famous by Puddle of Mudd. It's a really good song, go listen.
Mathis is Denmark in case anyone was wondering.
