Twelfth Song

Introduction: Well, I need to thank Jen for writing the song and giving me the idea to write this. Apparently, she felt like telling me to do something, so she told me to write something. So I wrote this. Once again, I do not own Brian Slade nor do I own Curt Wild, or anyone else mentioned in this fanfic. Everything goes to the producer and the actors of Velvet Goldmine.

I slammed down the phone, same old thing; some writer wanting an interview for a Brian Slade story! " Perfect timing kid, whoever you were." I murmured while turning in my seat, facing the two men in those damned gray suits. A frown on my lips, and I knew what I had to seem like to these men, a disgusting creature with carefree blonde hair hanging in his face, dark kohl around eyes too brown in this damned lightning, and quite simply, a mess. Perhaps their opinions on myself are true, but what do they know? All they know is Brian and his ways, that's enough to destroy anyone's soul. I know that. I've known it for too long now.

" So, let me get this straight, you bloody fuckers burst into my own house because some little worn out rock singer is worried about his reputation?" My words were cruel, flung out smoothly from my mouth while I absently played with a cigarette. The men only glared at me from beneath their black tinted glasses while I took a slow drag from the drug. Damn thing, should have never started smoking it. Then again I should have never did heroin either, hell, I should have never performed on that stage years ago; Brian would had never seen me.

" You see, Mr. Wild, I'm afraid that we have a small problem. However, if you agree to the terms we have so nicely laid out before you, the small problem will become no problem at all." The leader of the two, by obvious gestures of his hands and tone of his voice, spoke up, motioning with his hand for me to become more comfortable. Very lawyer like, intruding and then making small motions as if to seem he owned the place.

" Terms, what terms?" I growled, flicking the cigarette ashes onto the convenient table placed between myself and the men. Good thing too, otherwise I would have jumped over and had that man by his throat.

" Well, Brian Slade would like it, and I believe he has a good reason to want this Mr. Wild." The same man as before spoke up, glancing sideways at the man beside him.

" You're stalling. Just fucking say it already." Another growl from me as I leaned back against the large chair, feet propped up on the table.

Clearing his throat, the taller of the two sighed and leaned against the couch he had so nicely placed himself upon while entering my home, " Mr. Slade wants nothing more to do with you, as I'm sure you've noticed. From your previous.relationship in the past, you know certain facts that can and may harm Brian's knew image. Therefore, with your signature, we have a deal that you cannot say anything out to public which will hurt him in any way. Typical cautious procedure, you understand. "

Shocked silence. " Fuckin' Brian." I hiss into the darkness, turning slightly in the chair. So much for comfort. I should have known better though, I should have seen this coming long ago. Brian uses everyone, about time he came around to using me. Guess I just didn't realize it would have happened so fast. " No, I don't understand." Another murmur, and it wasn't even noticed by the two blokes close to me.

It's the shock that hurts. It's the god damn shock of him not trusting me that stings so much and makes my hands clench together at my sides, makes me ache for another bottle of beer or just a touch of cocaine. Of course there were times I'd died to spill out Brian's past, all of his dirty little secrets only I knew. And each time I couldn't, I couldn't betray him like that. I just wasn't like him in the end.

" So, I sign this, and I can't speak a word about Brian to anyone?" I spoke up after a few moments, looking at them closely.

" Yes.that is basically it."

" Basically?" I never did trust lawyers, they're too sneaky for my taste really. Basically was just the word that throws something off.

The man fidgeted in his seat. Well, I definitely hit something with that question. " What is it?" A growl, and I'm leaning forward against the table, my hands pressed to the old wood, cigarette hanging from my lips.

" Mr. Wild, I'm afraid there is something else which is written in those papers. While you were in London, working on the record with Mr. Slade, you were legally and contractually bound to make twelve songs. However, due to personal problems, you left before the twelfth song could be completed. Brian would like that song written and given to him for his final record." His voice was smooth, devoid of any emotion and utterly calm. The bastard.

Running my fingers through my hair, I sigh, barely able to control the anger and pain coursing through me. " Let me get this straight here, I'm not aloud to say a single word about Brian, and I can no longer speak to him since he's decided to be such a little bastard, but I have to write him a song?" Sneering, I turn my eyes upon the two bitterly. " Do you really expect me to do that?"

" Oh, you had better Mr. Wild."

I can feel my anger, rising a little as I stand slowly, flicking the cigarette to the ground beneath me. " I assume Brian's already had my assassination planned out if I don't?" It was supposed to be sarcastic, but it came out sour, tainted in bitterness.

" Mr. Wild, please, if you would just sign the paper and get this over with, we could all go back to our regular lives."

" Fuck you!" I manage to hiss to them, turning my back on them while my hand creeps out to snatch up a pen. I can feel the sting of tears, but absently I bat them away, Brian isn't worth my tears. Hell, no one was ever worth my tears. In flowing black ink my signature stares up at me, a blinding ebony on the crisp white paper.

I'm barely aware of the men beside me, thanking me, telling me the deadlines when the song was due, hands pushing me aside to get to the paper. The door closes and I slink to the floor, holding my head in my hands. " Damn you, Brian."

*****

" Sometimes I wasn't good enough..sometimes I wasn't good at all, sometimes I made you take it rough..sometimes I made you hit the wall." Curt's voice swirled above the room, filling it with the beautiful dark tone that the blonde always managed to have in his words. " But I will dance the spiral.." A pause and a bit of guitar, one of his hands moving from the headphones to push back the locks of hair. " I'll dance your twisted spiral, just to receive your obscene love."

Surprisingly I'm smiling while I hear the song, sitting there, mildly comfortable in the old recording studio's chair. My blonde hair pulled back loosely, a simple black coat surrounding my arms and chest, flaring out around my hips only to have the fabric cut off abruptly.

" A times I never made it home..at times I never made it clear." His voice continues, the song growing louder in my own ears, the hum of electric guitars fading. It's rude of me to smile, very rude, I know perfectly well how much Curt hurt.how much I continued to hurt still. But some of my twisted self got pleasure out of this, at seeing him so torn between himself and another being. It made me disgusted.

" At times I wasn't even strong enough, at times I never.."

His lyrics bring me back to this world and the smile's fading from my barely colored lips. I was shocked of course when getting the call from him a few weeks ago. He'd sounded so terrible on the phone, so heartbroken and just simply pissed off. But through the quickly spoken words and random curses at Brian, I got the main message, and of course I'd already known about the twelfth song. I must had been as shocked as he was though hearing about it.

" But I will dance the spiral, I'll dance your fucking spiral, I will dance the spiral just to receive your obscene.." Lifting my eyes and watch Curt, his eyes down to the floor but still managing to hold the fire he normally had. " Love." The last word was whispered, and it did the written song justice.

Closing my fingers around the lyrics page, I mouth along to the final chorus, watching with a bitter smile as the song is finished. Curt drops his hands after removing the headphones, his brown eyes peering through the sheet of glass and burning into my own. Distantly we both smile. We both understand Brian, unfortunately I wasn't gifted with the power to put it into a song.

I nod softly and am returned with a knowing nod. Brian will be pleasantly surprised to have Obscene Love recorded and given to him in a few days. But better yet, the wonderful Maxwell Demon will be hurt.