The song - is 'The Blues' by GnR (who look like they're finally releasing Chinese Democracy *jumps for joy*) But I've altered it a fair bit to fit into the story better. Anyway, [D/C alert] the song belongs to W. Axl Rose and Guns N' Roses.
Howard was amazed at how quickly you become a nobody when you're not constantly with a celebrity. He'd only stopped living with Vince a few days ago and already he could walk around London free from paparazzi and jealous teenage girls. Although now, something else followed him. Something much darker. Something much more difficult to shake.
Howard sat on a bench, warming his hands with his plastic coffee cup. London was a lot less magical, when you were staying in the worst hotel known to man. It was owned by a women who was about a hundred years old and had taken as instant dislike to Howard. He had no money, no friends and his record deal had fallen through. He knew his time in the capital was coming to an end but he had no idea where he was going to go.
He hadn't bothered paying rent on his flat, so that was an option. And Alice? Well, she wasn't returning any of his calls. She'd finally given up on him, just like everyone else in his sorry excuse for a life. Everyone except… well, Vince had never looked down on him, even though he probably had more right to than anyone. He'd even fought to get Howard on that stupid song. Even though everyone else had insisted the original sax player was better. Vince hadn't cared. He'd stood up to them and fought Howard's case. He'd stood up to Frank too and the paparazzi. He'd fought everyone and everything just to have Howard with him and Howard had repaid him by leaving him, just when things were going really well.
Just thinking about it made Howard feel sick. His stomach twisting as a painful reminder of how stupid he'd been. He took another sip of tea and then looked at the copy of Cheekbone he'd just bought from a the corner shop. He read it everyday, just on the off chance there would be a picture or an interview from Vince and there usually was. He glanced at the contents and his eyes were drawn to 'Pictures of Vince Noir at after show party - Page 34'. He flicked to the page. He always half hoped that the pictures would be of Vince crying or looking miserable but they never were. He was always smiling and laughing with a large group of similarly dressed, like-minded musical insiders. Howard studied the photos carefully even though it broke his heart to see Vince kissing various girls. Though, Howard noticed, there were never any of him kissing men. 'Back in the closet' Howard had thought grumpily.
This article was no different from the others, hundreds of pictures of Vince at the party. Vince dancing with a blonde. Vince dancing with a brunette. Vince dancing with a girl with a skirt no wider than a belt. Vince downing a Flirtini. Vince downing another Flirtini and another one. Vince leaving the party with… was that Jenny? Howard brought the magazine up to his face, so close that his nose nearly touched the paper. It was! The slut! Howard let out a strangled cry and threw the magazine wildly, much to the surprise of a passing old woman.
"Sorry." mumbled Howard embarrassedly, picking up the copy of Cheekbone and putting it in the bin as she watched him, like an old head mistress.
He walked back to the hotel room slowly, the image of Vince taking Jenny to a hotel burned in his brain. He wanted to cry and scream and retch and yet he couldn't not think about them together. This was the sickest form of torture, the only thing he didn't want to think about was the only thing he could.
When he got back to the hotel he found a note nailed to his door. It read: 'Money or Out!'. Sighing, Howard tore it down and entered the room. He knew he'd have to leave. There was no point pro-longing the agony anymore, it was time to go back to Leeds. He rang Alice. Unsurprisingly, it went to the answer machine."Hiya. I'm not around at the moment so just leave me a message after the beep. Unless your name is Howard, in which case, I'm not interested."
Howard sighed deeply as the high pitched noise told him to start talking. "Hi Al. It's Howard. I really need somewhere to stay. I've been kicked out of the hotel and I can't stay in London, I've got nothing here. I'm coming back to Leeds. Uh, yeah, so I'll see you soon. Er, Bye."
And with that Howard began to make the long and painful way back to Leeds.
---
Vince ran through the green fields towards Howard. His arms outstretched. His hair blowing in the light breeze.
"I love you" he cried. "I have since the first moment I saw you, walking down that street in the pouring rain."
"I love you too." laughed Howard, catching the other man and swinging him around. He closed his eyes and nestled into the other man's thick black hair. He wanted to hold on to this moment forever.
"Never let me go Howard, I couldn't bear it."
"I never will. Never."
"Howard! Howard! Hold on, I'm falling."
"You're not falling." Howard reassured him, but as he said it Vince became less real in his arms. He could feel him slipping away, like sand through an egg timer. Howard tried to hold on but Vince was no longer real. He was floating like a ghost, impossible to catch; like smoke.
"No Vince!" Howard screamed "Come back, please. I do love you, I do."
"FEET!" came a loud voice from nowhere and everywhere.
"W-what?" Howard stammered, looking around, completely bewildered. He was now stood in pitch blackness. The fields from before had disappeared and where was…? He looked around frantically but Vince had disappeared too and from somewhere in the distance he could feel something tapping his legs.
"FEET!" shouted the voice again.
Howard woke with a start and glared at his sister who was attacking his legs with her magazine.
"Move." she said. Howard grudgingly swung his legs around so that she could join him on the sofa, which he'd adopted as a bed for the last couple of weeks.
She hadn't spoken more than a word to him since he'd been there. He'd tried at first to engage her in conversation over breakfast, or in the evening, when she got home from work but she'd just sit there. Sullen, sulky and silent. He was beginning to think it would be better just to live on the streets. What he shared with his sister now, was a slow form of torture. Maybe he'd have been better off if she'd refused to take him in but she couldn't do that to him. However much she ignored him or claimed she hated him, when it came to the crunch, when his life finally hit a rock bottom most people couldn't comprehend, she was there for him. Just like she always had been.
Now, Alice was flicking through the channels on the TV with an expression that suggested she was looking for something specific. She found it and, with a satisfied smile, she put the remote down as on the screen appeared the one, the only Vince Noir.
"Turn it off." groaned Howard reaching for the remote.
"I don't think so," Alice said moving it out his reach. "Have you heard his new song?" Howard shook his head. "Then I think you should listen to it."
"I don't want to."
"Tough."
It was strange but this was the most they'd spoken since he'd moved in.
"So Vince," smiled Fern Britton "You just pop over there and get ready to do your song, now I understand this isn't on the album, is that right?"
"Yeah." smiled Vince, though Howard sensed there was something wrong with the smile, it wasn't the real Vince Noir smile. This one didn't quite reach his eyes. It sparkled but it didn't shine. "This is just available as a single."
"Okay. Off you go."
Vince nodded and walked over to the small stage area and, much to Howard's surprise, he didn't strike a pose by a microphone or strike a pose with his back to the camera or indeed strike any kind of pose at all.
Instead, he sat at a grand piano. He had no backing singers, no backing band - just him and his instrument. This was as raw and exposed as Vince had ever been whilst performing and, for the first time in his life, he was nervous. This song was so private, it was only meant for the ears of one person. The fans, the record sales, the charts that didn't matter to him. It was just that this was the only way of getting the man who mattered to hear what his heart was trying to say. He took a deep breath and began to play. His voice was so full of emotion, it was heartbreaking to hear and after just one line Howard was wiping a tear from his eye.
"All the love in the world couldn't save you
All the innocence inside
You know I tried so hard to make you
Ooo I wanna make you change your mind
And it hurts too much to see you
How you left what we had behind
You know I wouldn't want to be you
Now there's a hell I can't describe
So now I wander through my days
Trying to find my ways
To hide the feelings that I have
I save for you and no one else
I don't know just what I should do
Everywhere I go I see you
You know I understand, this much is true
'Cause you got cold feet, when I said loved you,
What this means to me
Is more than I know you believe
What I thought of you now
Has cost more than it should for me
What I thought was true before
Were lies I couldn't see
What I thought was beautiful
Is only memories
I don't know just what I should do
Everywhere I go I see you
You know I understand, this much is true
'Cause you got cold feet, when I said loved you"
"Well done Vince Noir!" clapped Phillip Schofield. "Excellent stuff and the world tour starts tonight, is that right?"
"Yeah. We're starting in London tonight and then I'm going to Sweden on Tuesday."
"Are you going to be playing that song on the tour?"
"Yeah, I think so."
"Well it's very beautiful."
"Thank you." Vince gave a watery smile.
"Tell me Vince."
"Hmm?"
"Is written about any one person?"
"No." Vince gave a strangled laugh, "It's just a figment of my imagination. I got the inspiration from watching this obscure Russian film. I won't recommend it but you know…"
"Oh, Fern and I were thinking that maybe you'd found a new person to melt your heart."
"No, not yet! I'm still very much on the scene… and looking. So, you know if anyone's interested." He winked at the camera. "Just give me a text."
"Give him a text" smirked Alice, tapping him on the knee.
"Get lost." Howard spat, getting up off the sofa and storming into the kitchen.
"God you're so thick." she called, following him calmly.
"How am I?""Well, that song was clearly about you, and you're the only person in the entire world who doesn't realise it."
"Two things. One. It wasn't about me, it was based on some film, he just said so. And two. If it was about me, the lyrics weren't exactly positive, were they?"
"You did break his heart."
"Shut up."
"D'you know what? Screw it! You wanna sit around here moping and being miserable, be my guest. But don't moan to me about how rubbish your life is."
"I don't."
"Oh and also, stop stealing my magazines and cutting out the pictures of Vince, it's annoying and more than a bit creepy. It's the sort of thing obsessive girl fans do, not the man he once described on national TV as the one."
"Stop it!" yelled Howard
"Hard to hear?"
"No."
"He'll move on soon enough though."
"Good. I have."
"He's already back to sleeping with every girl he see's."
"Shut up!" Howard was almost crying.
"See, you haven't moved on at all." scorned Alice.
"I have!" he insisted.
"Liar, every night you call his name in your sleep. I hope you didn't do that when you lived with him, that would've been embarrassing."
"He'd have loved it though." murmured Howard "He'd be thrilled to think that people not only think about him when they're awake but when they're asleep too."
"That's probably true." said Alice, flicking on the radio, before beginning the washing-up from last night.
"And this next song," announced the DJ "Well I love it, it's 'Everywhere I Go (I see you)' by Vince Noir."
"All the love in the world couldn't save you"
"Oh my God!" screamed Howard, slamming down a plate. "He's everywhere!" . He stomped out of the flat and slammed the door so hard that the entire house shook.
Thanks for reading everyone!!