Hello hello hello! Back with an update, a week after last time... sorry about that.

Just like to say, thank you all so much for your lovely reviews, and thank you to everyone who has favourited this and put it on alert (every time I get an email saying someone's done that it makes me go all smiley).

And I'm glad you all seemed to enjoy the last chapter! Teehee.

Sorry this chapter's mostly dialogue, and also that it's a bit shorter than normal, but I thought it had reached a good stopping place. I have already started Chapter 12 so next update shouldn't be too long... I hope. I also hope it's convincing. Not having ever found out that my life was a TV show, I'm not really sure what the reaction would be. Obviously the reaction will continue into the next chapters, so anyway...

Disclaimer: it isn't mine but I do enjoy writing about it.

Chapter Eleven

"It's you and me, two halves of a complete person"

Howard and Vince ran.

They ran down the corridor of the hotel, down the stairs, not waiting for the lift, through the foyer – attracting some very strange looks from other people down there – out into the dark street outside, and away, down the pavement, still with Vince clutching Howard's wrist, tripping slightly in his high-heeled boots.

They ran the length of the road. They charged round a corner, and ran on, down the pavement, footsteps echoing so it sounded almost as though there were two identical people behind them chasing after them. They ran faster. They ran as though they wanted to outrun the echo. They sprinted across the street against the lights, cars hooting angrily – and on, faster, down more and more streets that all looked the same, a dull, lonely orange in the London street lights, the cold air stinging their faces, until they had no idea where they were any more…

"Howard –" Vince rasped eventually.

Howard ignored him. He hauled Vince on, round a corner, then round another, just running as fast as his legs would carry him, as though by getting far enough away he might make it all okay…

"Howard! I can't breathe!"

Howard ran on, almost blindly, only just avoiding crashing into a young couple, on and on…

"Howard!"

There was a sudden jerk on his arm. Howard was almost pulled over, only just managing to avoid going headlong. He staggered, clutching a nearby lamp post to steady himself. Spinning round clumsily, he saw that Vince had fallen on one of his heels, and was now half-kneeling in the road, hands on the paving stones, breath coming in agonised-sounding rasps.

"Vince?" Howard panted. "Vince, are you okay?"

Vince didn't answer. He seemed to be trying to get a grip on the ground. His back bent forward so his spine almost showed through his t-shirt – he hadn't had a chance to grab his jacket before they left.

"Vince?"

Vince finally looked up, and Howard stared at how – well – how bad he looked. His hair was wild, partly from running so fast but also, Howard suspected, from what he'd been getting up to on the sofa. He was flushed and sweaty – and his eyes. His eyes were wide with fear and shock and exhaustion and something else – loss?

He held Howard's gaze for a few moments. Then he dropped his head again.

"Vince," Howard said. He went and stood over his friend, trying to look strong and confident, but in reality he too was so breathless that he just wanted to stagger over and collapse on the pavement next to Vince. And more than that; far, far more than that –

"Vince, we've got to go." He didn't want to think it. He didn't want to remember. He wanted to run forever.

Vince looked up at him. "Go where, Howard?"

"What?"

"Where the hell are we goin'?" Vince's voice rose a pitch with emotion, and then cracked painfully. He lowered his eyes again.

Howard didn't answer.

He couldn't answer. He didn't know where they were going. He just knew – or rather, he just felt – that they had to go.

"Away," he said finally.

"Away where? Home? How are we gettin' 'ome?"

"I –"

Vince looked up at him. His face seemed to be collapsing in on itself. Crumpling.

Those eyes were losing their sparkle. What Howard always dreaded most was finally happening.

"Vince –" He dropped down on his knees beside the smaller man. He reached out to touch his shoulder but Vince pulled away. He looked at Howard as though Howard was someone he hardly knew, or someone he vaguely remembered.

"Howard, what's goin' on?" he asked eventually.

"What?"

"I don't – I don't understand – where d'you find that box thing – and why are we – and – and –" Vince choked up and had to stop.

"You know what's going on, Vince; you saw it!"

"No, I don't – I don't understand –"

"Yes, you do!" Howard didn't want to repeat it. He couldn't repeat it. Repeating it made it real.

"I don't! I don't!" Vince protested.

"For God's sake, Vince!" Howard shouted. "Will you stop playing dumb? It's not cute, it's not funny, it's –"

"I'm not playing dumb! I don't understand! Why can't you just tell me –?"

"They're us!" Howard screamed.

There. He'd said it.

Vince was looking at him, somehow breathing more heavily now than he had been when they first stopped running.

He said it again. "They're us! You were wrong; there aren't parallel people or anything like that! There's nothing parallel about this at all! They created us; they –" He broke off as he realised, again, the full extent of what this meant, and his knees almost gave way. He sat down heavily on the kerb next to Vince.

No life. They had no real life. They were like puppets. They were controlled by whatever Noel and Julian decided to make them do. All his memories of his childhood, gone – it had never happened. All his adventures with Vince had just been part of a TV programme made to entertain people in this universe. Nothing was real.

Howard's head spun and he had to put a hand to his mouth, fearing he was going to be sick.

There was silence. Silence and the painfully lonely orange of the street, empty because it was late now, stretching away on either side of them, the broken white road line seeming to reach eternity.

It was as though they were alone in the world. Trapped in some sort of limbo existence.

Which, in a way, they were.

"How –?" Vince started eventually, nervously.

"How what?" Howard asked.

"How – how are they us –?"

Howard groaned and held his hair in his hands. It felt real. His hair felt real. The terrifying thing was he knew now that it shouldn't be.

"They're actors," he said.

Vince blinked at him. His eyes looked awful so empty. He couldn't have looked worse if they had been ripped right out, leaving empty bleeding sockets.

"You know, they're on television –"

"Yeah," Vince said. "Noel – Noel said – Noel –" He broke off and gripped one of his hands in the other, like he was trying to imagine someone else was holding it, comforting him.

Howard realised, suddenly, how awful this was for him.

"They're actors," he said again, almost not wanting to think about Vince's problem, and feeling guilty at the same time for neglecting it. "They're –"

"I know," Vince said. "They're on the telly. They're comedians; Noel told me. But wassat got to do with –?"

"That's the show," Howard said. "We are the show."

"But why are we the show?"

"I don't know; I didn't stop to ask, why did you make us up rather than writing other characters, did I?" Howard snapped. Then he sighed again. "I don't know. But we're the show."

"So – so people – like – watch our lives?"

"Yes."

"And –" Vince was frowning. "And – it's a – comedy?"

"Yes," Howard said, darkly.

"We're not funny," said Vince, after another few moments' pause.

"Apparently we are," said Howard.

There was silence.

"So –" Vince still seemed to be struggling. "So – I got off with myself."

"Vince –" Howard wasn't sure if he felt sorry for him, or exasperated that all he seemed to be thinking about was his love life.

"That must've been why it was so nice, then!" Vince said, suddenly giggling.

"Vince!" Howard yelled.

"I dunno, I guess it's not that weird – maybe it's just like a kinda extreme form of masturbation –"

"Vince, can't you ever take anything seriously?" Howard shouted, leaping up.

"D'you even know what masturbation is, Howard?" Vince asked, grinning at him.

"For Christ's sake, you shallow little –"

"No, no, I'm sorry," Vince said, serious again. "I'm sorry, Howard. 'Course you know what masturbation is."

Howard nodded. "Yeah, and maybe you'd like to go back to what we were talking about –"

"After all, that's the only gettin' off you ever do!" Vince cracked up.

"You bitch!"

"Well, it's true, innit?"

"Vince, for God's sake, I didn't think even you were this stupid – this childish –"

"What are you, my father?"

"Vince –"

"See, Howard, this is why when we do gigs, everyone says, get your dad off the stage, Vince. That and you look old."

Howard knew he shouldn't rise to it. But he could never deal with criticism at the best of time, and comments about his age were a particularly sensitive area. "I do not look old!" he yelled.

"Yeah, ya do!" Vince seemed almost pleased that he'd got Howard involved in the row. "You're goin' all grey, Howard."

"Yeah – well – well – you're going bald!" Howard shouted back, behaving just as childishly as Vince now, he could tell, but he didn't care.

"What? What?" Vince's hands flew to his raven locks.

"Yeah, you started losing your hair back at the flat and it didn't stop, and now you've got a bald patch!" Howard crowed.

"Where?" Vince shrieked, clawing at his head, trying to find it.

"Right at the back – it's really obvious to me, Vince, it's catching the light, looks all shiny –"

"No!" Vince moaned, still feeling around his head desperately.

"Your hands keep missing it –" But then Howard broke off, because Vince whipped out two mirrors, held one up behind his head, and held the other up so he could see the reflection in it.

Great. Trust Vince to be able to think logically when it came to his looks.

And when he turned back to Howard, Howard actually suddenly felt quite frightened at the look on his face. He'd never been frightened of Vince before. Exasperated, yes. Furious, yes. But never scared.

But now Vince looked positively murderous.

"Oh, you're for it now, small eyes!"

He rushed at Howard and seized his shirt, pushing him backwards against the lamp post Howard had originally grabbed for support. He grabbed a strand of Howard's hair and yanked hard.

Howard yelped, and kicked Vince's shins hard. Vince squealed and let go of him, and he was able to push the smaller man away. "For Christ's sake, Vince –"

"That fuckin' hurt, you geography teacher!"

"Well, it serves you right. Lashing out like a toddler –"

"You were the one sayin' I was goin' bald! And anyway, at least it's not true! You really are grey, Howard. You're grey and old and boring."

"I'd rather be boring than so colourful I'm practically sight pollution!"

"If anyone's sight pollution it's you, you great Northern pillock! No wonder you're a virgin; what woman would wanna look up and see your mug hangin' above her in the dark –?"

Howard had to fight very, very hard to control himself. "You're just too shallow and stupid to understand about how adults work, Vince," he said.

"Yeah, well, I should've let the bin men 'ave you!"

"And I should have let that jazz virus stay inside you!"

"I should've let Old Gregg keep ya!"

"I should have let the Head Shaman kill you!"

"I should've left you in Monkey Hell!"

"I should've gone with Lance Dior!"

Vince's mouth dropped open at that. "You –!"

"After all," Howard yelled, "I reckon he made a better you than you did!"

Vince went bright red in the face. "No-one makes a better me than I do!" he screamed.

At that, Howard just couldn't stop himself.

"Noel makes a better you than you do!"

Vince's eyes widened. "You bastard." His voice was low with shock and fury.

"He does. And you clearly think that as well, don't you, Vince?"

"You –"

"I really don't understand you." He mimicked Vince's South London accent: "Lance Dior, 'e's a right prick, 'e's just like me. Noel Fielding, ooh, in' 'e gorgeous, 'e's just like me – argh!" He ended on a cry because Vince charged at him, crashing into him so hard that they both went sprawling on the pavement. "Don't you dare compare Noel to Lance Dior, you fuckin' nonce! I'll kill ya!"

"They both make better yous than you do!" Howard shouted, struggling to push Vince off.

Vince seized his collar, looking homicidal. "I'd rather 'ave Julian than you!" He tried to thump Howard's head on the pavement. Fortunately Vince wasn't very strong, so he couldn't do it that hard, but it still hurt.

"Well, off you go then, you electro whore; I don't care!" Howard shouted, trying to get his knee up between Vince's legs.

"Yes, ya do!" Vince attempted another thumping of Howard's head on the paving stones. "You do care, because your life would be so boring without me! You need me! You wouldn't 'ave anything if you weren't with me! You wouldn't 'ave –" And then Vince broke off.

He made a faint gasping sound – or maybe Howard just imagined that.

But he stopped trying to bang Howard's head on the road. After a few seconds he slipped quickly off of his friend.

"Vince?" Howard asked, thoroughly confused now.

He looked up. Vince was sitting back, staring at Howard, one hand catching just below his mouth, eyes big with emotion.

"Vince? I thought you were killing me." Howard wasn't too keen to get close to Vince; this might just be a ploy to make Howard think everything was okay. He edged back a little bit.

But Vince was shaking his head. "We sound just like them," he said.

"What?"

"We – we sound just like them – I sound just like him – Noel."

There was silence.

The road now seemed even emptier than ever, without their shouting.

"Vince –" Howard started, finally, with no idea what he was going to say, just because the silence made him feel like something was creeping up on them, watching them, and he wanted to break it.

But as soon as he spoke, Vince looked up at him. "I didn't mean it, Howard," he said.

Howard blinked at him suspiciously.

"I didn't!" Vince said. He shuffled forwards on his knees slightly – and bit his lip when Howard drew back away from him again. "Howard," he said, and his voice was low and quivering. "Howard, I didn't mean it. I was just tryin' to get to ya – I – I dunno why –" He blinked and swallowed. "I'm sorry."

Howard stared at him. Vince never apologised for anything.

"Hey, little man," he said, nervously. He'd totally forgotten how much Vince had actually insulted him during their argument, because he was so shocked at his self-absorbed friend's sudden regard for somebody else – and also all the different emotions that had been spinning around since they ran away from the hotel had left him feeling quite giddy. "It's okay."

"It's not okay," Vince said. "We sounded like they do." He looked at Howard. His sooty lashes, usually soft, delicate dark curtains over his eyes, were now wet and spiked together with tears. "I don't want us to get like them, Howard," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"They hate each other, Howard," Vince said. "And I sounded just like Noel, sayin' that stuff to you – I don't want us to hate each other."

"Oh, Vince," Howard said. "I could never hate you."

Vince flicked his tongue over his mouth like a nervous child, and looked at Howard shyly. "I don't hate you either – and I don't think you're a geography teacher or that you're ugly or anythin' else –"

"Yes, you do," Howard said. "But it doesn't matter."

"I don't really," Vince said. "It's just a joke. And anyway, if you weren't a bit like that, you wouldn't be Howard. My Howard."

"Yeah, well," said Howard, rather gruffly, because although he was getting a lump in his throat and all he wanted to do was hug his skinny little friend, he wasn't very good with deeply emotional situations and he never knew how to react properly. "If you weren't an electro whore you wouldn't be Vince."

"Your Vince?" Vince pressed.

"Yeah."

Vince shuffled towards him again, tentatively. This time Howard didn't pull away, so Vince put his arms round his friend's neck and snuffled into his shoulder.

Howard didn't like people touching him. Not most of the time, anyway. But this was different. His arms went round Vince and held him close. He felt so small. So vulnerable. Howard wanted to gather him up and make sure nothing hurt him. He stroked Vince's back and Vince nuzzled into his neck.

They stayed hugging on the pavement for quite some time.

Finally, Vince drew back a bit. He gave Howard a very sweet, very shy smile.

"Hey, little man," Howard said. "Don't worry. We're not like them."

"Even though they're us?" Vince asked.

Howard swallowed. "We're not like them," he said, determinedly. "We won't ever get like them, yeah?"

"Yeah," Vince said, smiling – but his eyes shone again.

"Oi, you." Howard reached out and wiped his thumbs under Vince's eyes. "No crying. There's nothing to cry about. We're okay. It's you and me, two halves of a complete person, like always, remember?"

Vince grinned, and leant his head against Howard's shoulder again.

They sat in silence for a few moments.

Then: "Howard?"

"Yes, little man?"

"What are we gonna do?"

Howard sighed. "I don't know, Vince."

"Howard – I still don't get – how can they be us?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, look at me; I'm real." Vince held up his hands as though trying to prove that they existed. "Why do we – why do we even exist, if we're just characters off the telly?"

Howard had to admit that he didn't know that.

He realised it was a question Noel and Julian should probably be asking, not him and Vince.

Because Vince was right. They shouldn't exist.

But they did, and they had a problem.

"Vince, do you think we could find our way back to Noel's house?" he said slowly.

"Yeah – but what good's that gonna do?"

"Well, I'm not sure, but it's the only place there's been a way to get home, so I thought we might as well start there…"

Vince nodded. "A'right. We'll try and find Noel's –" His voice broke slightly.

"Vince –"

"No," Vince said, shaking his head. "I gotta – I shouldn't –"

"Vince, I know what you think about him –"

Vince screwed up his face, shaking his head again, and turned away. Howard could tell he didn't want to talk about. He decided not to press it. He looked down the road instead, not wanting Vince to feel like he was being observed constantly.

Then he felt Vince suddenly start next to him.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Howard," Vince said, sounding frightened.

"What?"

"Howard, there's someone – there's someone movin' down that alley."

"What?" Howard turned round. Vince was pointing to a narrow street behind them, with dustbins standing precariously round the entrance. It was a menacing black down there, without the presence of street lights. But Howard couldn't see anything that looked alive.

"Vince, I can't –" But, at that moment, a shadow shifted, somewhere close to one of the walls that enclosed the little street. A large shadow.

"Howard –" Vince clutched Howard's arm, his nails digging into Howard's skin.

There was more movement. A faint rattle, as if something had bumped a dustbin further down the alley way.

"Hello?" Howard called, getting up slowly, to be able to run. Vince struggled up next to him, still gripping his arm.

There was silence from down the alley.

"Hello?"

There was the sound of a footstep on pavement.

"Howard!" Vince squeaked, sounding terrified.

Howard drew Vince back protectively, keeping one arm between him and whatever it was. "Look," he called, "Whoever you are, it's not funny, right? Just –"

There was a sudden coughing and rasping sound from down the alley. It sounded like someone was choking.

Howard and Vince exchanged bewildered looks.

"Hello?" Howard called.

The rasping continued.

"That sounds like – like someone's havin' an asthma attack –" Vince started – and then his eyes widened.

And then, a muttering voice came: "You ball bag! I said be quiet! This could be that Noel and Julian!"

"Sorry," grumbled a deeper voice, and then there was the sound of someone inhaling deeply. Sucking something in. A dark shape lumbered forwards, emerged from the alley, and leant against the wall. It was large, black and furry. It held an inhaler in one paw.

"Bollo!" Vince cried.

Thanks for reading.

We've got a "guest appearance" coming up in the next chapter or two... hehe.

Regarding "Bliss", it is still going, but I'm not making any promises about when it will be updated. It will happen at some point, I swear, hopefully quite soon.

violence x