Trouble followed. Monsters talk.

Part a

Hey, everyone!

I'm sorry for the long delay and to add some more, my computer got wild… again. Yes, that thing truly hates me, it's been confirmed. So, right now, I'm living in the constant fear that this hell-sent breaks on me again… Bah, this time I saved all my stuff on another hard disk. I hope it won't break on me this time around!!

Anyway, here's chapter 3. Enjoy.

And dear lord, this chapter was a monster to write…

By the way, language is quite fool in this part… When I'm angry, I'm rather… explicative, let's say, and I wanted them to be that way too. It's much, much more fun to write this way. Yes, I do have a fool mouth (I was on vacations at my parents and my mom was about to have a heart attack when she heard me swore the first time, then she grabbed me and lectured me for days… jeez, scary.)

Sorry, but, hey, this story is rated R after all…

Ah, something else: I'm not American and I don't know how which city Sarah's from, so let's say, it's something like Los Angeles or San Francisco. Ok?

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Flashy red letters shone brightly on the dark picture, on the cover of a tabloid. On its cover, one could see a tall man, with fair hair, wearing gloves, holding tightly to his chest a shorter woman, with long black hair, her head tilted in his direction, her lips glued to his. "Jareth Bane! Bring out your tissues, ladies, he's taken!"

On another, right next to the first, one could read. "Jareth Bane got carried away, last night, with his hidden girlfriend!" The small wooden coffee table was buried under the dozen tabloids, each showing more or less the same picture.

Sarah moaned. She was sitting, her elbows on her knees, on her couch, Charlie and Steward on her right. It had been them who had bought and brought over all the tabloids about her and Jareth, tabloids that were currently lying on her coffee table, right in front of her.

The magazines seemed to scream at her, laughing at her, mocking her for making such a fool of herself, the night before. How could she have behaved so badly? What would her parents say? God, Karen would forbid her to come closer than three miles to Toby.

On the corner of her eyes, she could see Steward, his green eyes seriously devouring one of the articles in a tabloid on them while his little wife was cooing happily over another tabloid: she had probably found another idol. Sarah sighed and took a glance behind her: Jareth was standing, barefoot, his shirt hanging open, in her kitchen, furiously whispering in his cell phone.

How weird, Sarah pondered. How could Jareth use a cell phone? But. Pondering over that could only mean another headache so for now, Sarah decided to let the matter drop and she turned her eyes back to the hideous pile of tabloids lying on her coffee table. 

Charlie picked up another one and cheerfully read the headlines aloud. "Making out! Jareth Bane, new singer idol, with an unknown girl!" Sarah buried her head in her hands, chanting to herself that it was a complete nightmare.

She moaned once more, but it didn't stop Charlie from reading the beginning of the article. "Maybe less than two blocks from the club where he was giving a small concert, Jareth Bane, the singer of Kings, the new group hitting off, was spotted kissing a young woman, around three thirty-five in the morning. The woman, whose identity is still unknown, was at the club and several persons believe the singer had been staring at her during the whole concert." Charlie cooed and reached for another one, reading the title aloud, like a fan girl that she was. "Hot! Hot! Hot! New male idol, Jareth Bane, 30, lead singer of the Kings, the new popular band, was seen last night sharing a long kiss with an unknown young woman." Charlie, a huge grin on her face, quickly went through the tabloid to read some more, when Sarah's voice called her.

"Charlie…" Sarah said, her head still in her hands.

The brunette peeked up the magazine and threw a cheerful glance to her friend. All the commotion amused her to no end. "Yeah?" Sarah took a deep breath and raised her head from her hands, attracting Steward's attention.

"SHUT UP!" She yelled at the top of her lungs and took the nearby magazine in her right hand, standing. "And throw this trash away!" She yelled once more, throwing the magazine as far as she could from her as if it had suddenly turned into a vicious snake. Sarah, as if her strength had left her, fell back on the couch, bringing her legs under her, glaring at the tabloids.

Charlie blinked once then asked, unaffected by Sarah's sudden outburst. "Trash?" She looked from the tabloids to Sarah then back to the tabloids. "But, Sarah, it's the truth: you were plastered all over him and…"

Sarah cut her, shaking her head, her long black hair flying in every direction. "I get the picture! I get the picture ! Please stop!" Sarah shut her eyes closed and put her hands on her ears: that was her, there. Her and Jareth. Together on the front page of hundreds of thousands of magazines, kissing like there was no tomorrow.
Tears picked her eyes.

Charlie looked back at Steward, concerned. She hadn't thought Sarah would be that affected and inwardly, Charlie grimaced. Of course, Sarah would have. She had been the one insensitive here. If she hadn't let herself carried away, when Steward and her had driven over to Sarah's, she would have realized how wounded Sarah would be by all this junk. Steward looked back at her and shrugged, as if to say: 'what do you want to do? Sooner or later, she would have seen them.'

"Damned it to hell!" His voice rang in the silence like a gunshot in the night and Jareth walked back in the living room, livid.

Sarah's eyes snapped open and she turned to face him, alarmed. "What's wrong, Jareth?"

Jareth shook his head and rounded the couch to sit next to Sarah, his fist closed tightly around his cell phone. "Our manager's harassing my friends to find me. She's going to grill my ass." Charlie smiled coyly, making Steward rolled his eyes and he resumed his reading.

However, despite how dreadful the news sounded to Jareth, Sarah's mind had stopped registering at the notion of the female manager. "She?" Sarah asked him dangerously, narrowing her eyes. Jareth? Letting a female direct him? Who was he trying to fool?

Jareth frowned at her and was about to ask her what was wrong when Steward sat up, like a devil out of his box, laughing. "Wow!" He exclaimed, between two hiccups of laugh. "I think this one my favorite so far:  "Nice catch! Jareth Bane proves that he's not only an handsome singer but a lady man too. Despite all the rumors running wild on Jareth Bane's preferences, it was made clear, last night, that he really likes women at least." Rumors?" Steward paused and looked at his wife, asking her. "What are they, Charlie?"

"Steward Benjamin Thompson…" Sarah could hardly contain her anger.

How could he? How could Steward do this to her? First, Jareth waltzing back in her life, turning everything upside down in his way, then that woman, his so-called manager, trying to locate him and now, Steward, poor harmless Steward so cute with his green eyes, chocolate hair and open face, had turned into an evil green eyed demon, born to torture her by rubbing back and forth in her face what had happened the night before and the fact that they had been spotted and now seen by maybe half of the country.

Steward gulped and suddenly found Sarah quite scary, she made him think of a cobra before attacking its prey. She had stood up and was towering over him, her little fists shaking at her sides, her face turned down with her hair covering it. "Uh… Yes, Sarah?" Steward asked, feeling uncomfortable, really uncomfortable.

Sarah took a long breath, glaring at Steward along and yelled from the top of her lungs. "You are so dead!"

"What? What did I do? Charlie!" Steward wailed and called for help as Sarah marched on him, her fists ready to attack his head like a drummer.

Steward protected himself with his hands while Sarah punctuated each of her punch with another yell. "Throw them away!"

Charlie sighed and Jareth picked up the magazine Steward had been reading and scanned quickly the article. "Not these rumors again?" He complained, frowning.

Charlie tore her eyes from Sarah beating up her husband and it clicked. "Oh, yeah!" She smiled and looked slyly at Jareth. "About your homosexuality." Jareth looked up at her, his eyes narrowing dangerously and Charlie burst in laughter. "Or presumed homosexuality." She added between hiccups of laughter. Jareth rolled his eyes heavenward and sighed, throwing the magazine far from him. Meanwhile, Sarah had stopped hitting Steward and she slumped back on the couch next to Jareth and she looked at Charlie with round eyes. "What?" What did Charlie say about that rumor?

Jareth decided that enough was enough and glared at each person in the room, lasting a bit longer on Charlie, which only elicited laughter from the latter. "Please people, spare what's left of my dignity, private life and honor alone," his hard voice finally made Charlie stopped laughing, instead, she giggled helplessly behind her hand and Jareth, exasperated, finally yelled. "And burn those things before I do, with you all wrapped in it!" Charlie couldn't hold down the laughter she contained and literally rolled on the floor, laughing and crying, complaining that her stomach hurt.

Jareth mumbled about hurting her in another way, a dark gloom on his face when suddenly, his back pocket started to ring, without him noticing as he kept on sending lightings at Charlie through his eyes.

"Your ass is ringing, Jareth." Sarah dryly said, glaring at him. Jareth snapped out of his murdering plans on the person of Charlie and looked sharply at Sarah before registering what she had said and reaching for his cell phone in his pocket.

Jareth checked the number and swore. "Damn it." He finally answered the phone and stood up, pacing and snarling at his interlocutor. "Sariel! What! You're kidding! No! Sariel, I… Stupid ass, I'm calling a cab, I'm over in a minute. Yeah, sure, jackass." Jareth hang up and turned back to Sarah, who had been watching him sharply. Jareth knew Sarah needed just a tiny little bit more to explode with the force of a thousands volcanoes so he hesitated.

He needn't another problem on his hands right now and a raging Sarah wasn't going to make his life easier, but he couldn't hide that from her. "Sarah, I…" He stopped and gritted his teeth. Charlie sat up on the floor and Steward turned to face him.

Sarah stood up and her breathing quickened, dreading what he would next say. "What is it?"

Jareth took a calming breath and locked his eyes with hers. "They know your name." A silence, as heavy as a dead man, fell on the room, then Charlie's and Steward's glances moved to Sarah to watch her reaction.

But, she only croaked. "What?" The world was reeling, even stronger than with the biggest headache, up and down no longer existed nor right or left. It was all moving. Fast and slow in the meantime, spinning and falling in the same movement.

Jareth's voice cut through. "I bet Melanie told them. Old bat."

Sarah hardly managed to fix her gaze on him and with all her might she focused on him. "Melanie…" She repeated. "And who the hell is that bitch, exactly?" She spat out while Jareth started to look around for his shoes as he dialed quickly on his phone the number of a cab, he had previously entered in the phone's memory.

Jareth never noticed Sarah's strange stillness or her sudden fixed pupils on his form. But Charlie did. And Charlie worried. If Jareth said that this Melanie girl was a friend, he was really deep in. Oh, yeah.

Jareth sat down and placed his phone between his right cheek and his shoulder, putting his right shoe on. "Melanie is our manager." He explained quickly, not bothering to look up at Sarah. "And where the hell is my fucking left shoe?" He wondered aloud, looking around, buttoning up his shirt. Sarah was about to ask more about that Melanie character when Jareth was answered. "Ah, yes, hello. I need a cab in five minutes. " He spoke, standing up, looking for his shoe in Sarah's bedroom. Sarah followed him with murderous eyes and she was ready to give him her piece of mind, when Steward, who had stood up, restrained her by taping her shoulder lightly.

"That could be real serious, Sarah." He said, pushing his glasses up his nose, his serious green eyes making her forget instantly about Jareth.

Sarah turned fully to face him and asked, confused. "Stew?"

Charlie stood up but she turned to him while he faced Sarah. Charlie put a hand on her husband's arm and asked him. "Why?"

Steward looked down at her then back to Sarah and explained what had been lingering in his mind for a while. "Sarah's working for a prestigious school." He had thought that if Jareth could protect her identity, that situation could still be avoided but, the hand had changed and Sarah should know, should understand and prepare.

Sarah put a hand on her mouth, horrified. "You don't believe…" She whispered, staring at Steward.

Steward sighed and shook his head lightly. They all knew Sarah's school reputation. "Sarah, I'm a marketing consultant and I know how much an enterprise values its image. Your school also does. And if it was my school, I'll think over it twice." As usual when he was nervous, he pushed his glasses up his nose again and observed Sarah.

Charlie bit her lower lip before forcing herself to ask what the other two obviously didn't want to say aloud. "She wouldn't get fired, would she, Stew?" She whispered quickly, not looking at Sarah, as Charlie couldn't shake the feeling called guilt grip her limbs.

"Well…" Steward looked down at her, frowning a little.

"That's ridiculous." Jareth suddenly spat. He had been forgotten and unnoticed but he had been listening to the conversation, ever since he had caught Sarah's suddenly stiffen back on the corner of his eye. Unnoticed by the others, he had walked back in the living room and was standing right behind the couch, his left shoe found and on.

Sarah whirled around, her eyes murderous. "Ridiculous?" She said in a high-pitch voice. "Jareth, this is my life here!"

Jareth frowned at her and rounded the couch. "That's mine too then…" He started.

But Sarah didn't let him. She needed to explode, she needed to let go, she needed someone to yell on. But, she should have known better. She should have known Jareth wasn't the most comprehensive person around, or rather, someone you could yell on and get out of it, unharmed. "Since when my damn life became part of yours?"

Jareth's eyes suddenly blazed with anger and Charlie, who had wanted to intervene, backed away, to stand next to Steward, shocked and mute. "Sarah! Don't you dare!" He growled low in his throat. Too much already, he had suffered that tyrant without saying a word. How could she deny him that! After all he had done for her.

"Dare what, Jareth?" Sarah snarled as he approached her. "You come back after about a fucking dozen years and once more you turn the world at your convenience, without thinking of the consequences and what it…"

Livid, Jareth cut her again. "All I've ever done, I've done for you!"

"You can't start with…" Sarah shook her head and refused to hear the too old and same thing. Things had changed since their first meeting and the saying was too old and her heart too many times broken to believe his words again.

Where was the perfect atmosphere, the dreamland she had been allowed to touch that morning, when the two of them had been facing each other, alone lying in her bathtub. Before the outside world finally caught them.

Jareth who had been towering over Sarah, straightened his back and in a low voice, he cut her again. "Each of your whims I fulfilled."  His cold and harsh voice, his blazing eyes and his short wild hair made her do a jump back in a dozen year, in another place. "Each of your desires I offered." And another mask fell upon his features, but only her could see him change from Jareth, the man with whom she had spent the night to Jareth, the Goblin King, frightening and powerful, her heart in his fist. "Each of your wish I made true, little Sarah, or have you forgotten?" Her heart quickened, as if Jareth was squeezing it and she felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on her.

How could he remind her so what she had done to her little brother?

Shaking, as if she had been slapped, Sarah wrapped herself in her dignity and said on a trembling tone. "That was cruel, Jareth."

But, it was too late for Jareth and he didn't hear, nor see, the beginning of regret pointing in Sarah's eyes and tone. "And that's always what you expected from me, little Sarah." And she looked at him. Really looked at him.

His stiff back, his so broad shoulders, his pale skin, she knew to feel like velvet, outlined by the black shirt he wore on the leather black pants, his jacket tucked under one of his strong arms which had been holding her so gently that  morning, his mouth, so smooth against hers, set in a thin line and his eyes. Oh, his mismatched eyes boring holes in her heart, which was heavy with regret of the intimate moments they had shared and lost and pain. But, Jareth wouldn't forgive her, she had gone too far.

He had already asked her, he had told her he was tired of wearing the mask of the Goblin King for her, but once more, she had forced him to wear it. He wouldn't forgive her. "Frightening, powerful, scary, each of your thoughts I became, so that you could reject the fault on me. So, who's the one unfair, dear one? How couldn't I be concerned when my world resumed around you once more? But, of course, you have to deny me this, since I'm stuck to be the villain. I'm sick of it, Sarah. I thought I could do it again, but I already know what it's like to lose everything and frankly speaking, you're not worth another try on my part." Jareth turned around and headed to the door, saying over his shoulder. "Goodbye, Sarah. Charlie, Steward, it was nice meeting you."

Extending a shaky hand to his retreating back, Sarah realized her eyes were full of tears but his name, escaping her lips, didn't stop him and he closed the door without a second glance. "Ja-… Jareth!"

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Jareth was leaning on the black leather seats of the cab he had called. He let his head roll backwards and observed for a minute, without actually seeing it, the blue sky above, then reaching out in his pocket, he grabbed his cell phone and dialed his house number. After two rings, as expected, Sariel picked up and Jareth put his head between his hands, his elbows leaning on his knees. "Sariel, what have you done?" He whispered fiercely in the phone, without leaving the time to Sariel to even ask who was on the phone.

A moment of silence passed between the two males, before Jareth heard a sigh on the other side of the line and Sariel's tired voice say. "You mean the spell?"

"No, idiot, I'm talking about your stupid ass!" Jareth growled in the phone, keeping his voice low.

"I cursed you so that you could both of you expressed your real feelings to one another."

Even if he had been yelling on the top of his lungs, the driver wouldn't have been able to hear him, thanks to a glass which separated them, Jareth whispered back quickly, pressing the matter further. "Paroles only?"

Sariel felt his impatience and Jareth's sudden curiosity only made him worry on the outcome of his first encounter with Sarah, after 14 years. "My spell didn't have such restrains." Sighing, Sariel felt old and blamed himself for not having thought of putting limits on his spell. After what he and Iome, and now maybe half of the country thanks to a careless photo, had witnessed the night before in front of the night club, he should have prescient what would next happen. "Sorry, didn't think about that."

Jareth leaned back in the backseat, his thought confirmed.

So? He ironically asked himself. What I felt truly was from me. If Jareth had been alone, he would have laughed outright at his own stupidity. I should have stopped her when I had the occasion, I should have…

Jareth shook his head, going this way would only lead to bitter regrets and would make him lie, as he had told Sarah the very morning: what had been done was in the past and all that was left for them to do, was to move on and accept the consequences. As bitter, as they could be.

Sariel only prevented me from lying to myself, again. He mused. That was because I didn't really want to leave her, because she was right I wanted it to happen as much as she did. I… I wanted to forget in her arms, I wanted to feel her in my arms once more. I wanted… I still want. He realized and he smirked at his own weakness, named Sarah. A weakness could either be erased or accepted and turned into a strength, he had several times been told, well, what Sarah could be, he still didn't know and didn't really want to find out soon.

Jareth was aware he had been silent for a few minutes now and that Sariel was waiting for him to speak. Almost absent-mindedly, he asked his guardian. "When does it fade?" His voice dull and cold, he let his mind wander.

On the other side, Sariel promptly answered. "It should start to fade already. By midnight, it would have completely worn out."

"Is she still under its influence?"

Sariel took the phone in his right hand and walked over the huge transparent doors and took a look outside, where around the main gate, as a pack of wolves waiting for a dead animal to fall from its hide, a group of  paparazzi and journalists were gathered, either smoking, some on the phone, talking among themselves, waiting. "Yes, she is, but not as much as last night." Sariel answered, looking out. "But I hope she didn't suspect anything, otherwise, the spell would last longer." He added, frowning a little. He knew Sarah and he also knew she wasn't use to act that way. Maybe, she would put it on the alcohol and stress, but then.

"How so?" Jareth asked, sounding tired.

As Jareth's former professor in spells, Sariel quickly found his teacher's voice and started his small lecture. "Well, since Sarah's not aware of it, she won't think of it, therefore, grab the substance of the spell and keeping her in mind and…" Sariel paused, knowing that Jareth wasn't really listening. His young charge was just trying to change his mind, by getting his old teacher involved in one of his favorite subjects. So, Sariel smiled sadly and asked him quietly. "Do you really want to know that?"

Earnestly, Jareth answered quickly. "No."

Sariel let a small chuckle escape him and he finally asked, sorrow taking assault of his heart. "Did it turn that bad?"

Dryly, Jareth answered. "Actually, quite the opposite."

"Ah, that means that we're going home some time soon?" Sariel smiled as Jareth couldn't fool him.

Sariel had been appointed guardian and tutor to the young prince, when the latter was still 6, early even for a prince, but then, his mother didn't want to take care of his first years of education, as it was traditionally decided. Sariel had just turned 25, just out of the Aboveground College his parents had sent him too and he had been immediately catapulted Royal Tutor. The child already a reputation of little devil and Sariel dreaded to meet him.

He had heard servants say that the precedent Tutor had only last two days and he had been shocked to learn that people even bet fortunes on the time he would make next to the small prince. But, then, he had met Jareth.

The first time their glances met, Sariel had known he would consecrate his life to the lost child, dressed in a heavy royal blue jacket, playing the piano. The first time they had met, Jareth was behaving because his beloved sister was visiting from her Aboveground school and only Lord knew how much love and adoration the little boy had for his older sister and for her, and her only, he was playing the piano she had taught him during one of her stay.

Sariel could almost see, as if the scene was unfolding under his eyes, how Jareth had turned to him, when he had stepped into the room, how the little boy had stopped playing, getting up from the bench, slowly, frowning, disliking the idea of a stranger in this world made of his sister, the piano and him only. He still could feel Jareth's fierce gaze when he had presented himself as the new Tutor and the cold words Jareth had first greeted him with.

"You're homesick?" Jareth's voice cut through his memories, jerking him back to the present time and Sariel allowed a weary smile grace his lips. He felt like an old man, while in aboveground standard, he looked barely 35. If only they knew he had lived maybe twice that number, in their aboveground years.

Shaking his head, as if Jareth was standing next to him, he answered. "No, just reminiscing. And, also, I fear what your monsters could do to my citadel."

Jareth let a small laugh escape him. "First, it's not yours, it's mine, second, they aren't monsters, they're dogs, third they're clean!" Sariel had always disliked his dogs since one of them had thought it would be funny to roll several times in a puddle of mud, then run to meet Sariel, therefore wasting his favorite jacket he had been wearing that day.

"We'll see about that." Sariel answered dryly and all of the sudden, Jareth found himself back to the study, where Sariel would teach him about spells and magic.

"Why do I always feel like a small boy in front of you?" Jareth smiled and looked out, at the passing scenery. He was getting closer to his house, he needed to ask him now, he wouldn't ask if Sariel was standing right in front of him, as Sariel couldn't see him weak. No, he was a King, after all. Sarah had managed to make him forget that fact too many times already.

Sariel let a small laugh escape him and shaking his head lightly, he answered truthfully. "Maybe because I still treat you like one." Jareth was more than a prince to him, even more than a King, Jareth was…

"Sariel?" Sariel's attention focused back on the conversation and puzzled by Jareth's sudden apprehensive tone, Sariel listened carefully.

"What?" And his next question surprised him. Oh, so surprised he was when he heard those words fall from the lips of his charge and Sariel could only fear for what had happened between Jareth and Sarah.

"Could you do it to us again?" His voice almost sounded weak, as if there was no other way, as if he had explored all the possibilities already and knew he had lost, again. Sariel closed his eyes, maybe Iome was right, maybe all this was a huge mistake, there was so much at stake, but then on the other hand, there was so much to win.

"Curse you again with the spell?" Sariel asked, in confirmation.

"Yes." Jareth sounded firm. Sounded.

"Yes." Sariel paused, sighed and finally said. "But I won't do it. Jareth, if I did it again, Sarah would then be bound to understand something was off and she'd accuse you." Preventing any interruption from Jareth, Sariel started talking faster, explaining his point. "My spell dulls inhibitions, yours like hers, I made it specific on your feelings for each others and as you already knew yours, you didn't fight it, or find it odd."

"She resisted?" Surprised Jareth was. So, he hadn't realized. Sariel thought.

"No, but she could have, if she hadn't been drunk. You were lucky on that one."

A silence followed and for a while, Sariel thought Jareth had forgotten to hung the phone, but then, his King said. "I'm over in a minute."

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The woman was plump and red-haired. Lovely, was the word, which defined her. Her big blue-green eyes made her look like a charming child, her pale skin, almost golden in the sunlight, turned her in an ethereal creature, born in another realm. Which, she actually was.

Her mother had been a human from Aboveground, with no magic power, but her father was a human from Underground, a minor lord of the Grand Court.

But, the lady herself, Melanie Richmond had no magic power, or whatsoever, and that was why she had chosen, like many like her, deprived of any power, to live Aboveground, like any above grounder.

Of course, she knew the truth and knew the Kings and Queens, which ruled the Underground, just as she knew whom the Emperor was, and who was the Emperor's son. So saying that immense had been her surprise when the Isle King's private counselor, Sariel, nonetheless, had taken contact with her for business, was an understatement. Under grounder either took pity of the children without power either lived as if they didn't exist.

So, when the Prince had asked her to work for him, her, a non-power as they were called commonly underground, she hadn't believed her luck. The Prince had the reputation of a womanizer and being the holder of a power which competed with the Emperor's one, himself. Oh, the thrill of working so close to him, had been overwhelming and she had worked harder than never before.

Since then, and just as Jareth had promised would happen, her success had been acclaimed in the profession as the Kings had risen rather quickly among the profession. Their quiet manner, discreet and so secretive, was attractive and Jareth was like a magnet, with his charisma and strange eyes, attracting anyone to him. Soon, if she could worked it well, the group would make its first live and she wanted something big, as powerful as the Prince, something as magnificent than him, something as grandiose.

She, who had been a small manager, in charge of several minor groups, was now the exclusive manager and producer of the Kings.

Smiling to herself, Melanie looked outside, glancing at the reporters gathered in front of the group's house. She was standing in a room unused by the others, which she considered as her own, since she had often slept over, to arrange whatever needed to be arrange for the group.

She had been slightly surprised too, when the Prince had asked a house on the hills so that he could see the whole city laid under him, a house big enough for him, Iome and Sariel to live together. Melanie had thought he would have asked for something bigger just for himself. But, no, he preferred this house, which he called, a sardonic smile on his lips, his lair. The house was big, with five big bedrooms, each with a balcony and a personal bathroom and a swimming pool which his Highness graced every morning. But, then, it wasn't the type of house Melanie had thought the King would request, she had thought he would want something more big, something more flashy, something to show off, not this house, where he hid himself almost every day.

And that had been the problem: Jareth was too secretive. He had only reluctantly agreed to do a string of interviews and only after Sariel had whispered something to him. He hated being taken in photo and had insisted on touring first in small clubs such as the one where the group had performed the night before.

That was why this story was all good for them, a good free publicity, showing people Jareth wasn't the geek he looked to be, that he too was human with carnal desires. That should break the suffocating fog around him and add a lot to his charisma among ladies.

That was why, Melanie let the photos being released while they had spent thousands already to protect Jareth and the house's privacies. Melanie didn't really know how much she had spent already buying off the pictures showing Jareth, either in the swimming pool or in the house, or Iome flirting with some girls and boys while Sariel had been spotted several times just walking around, visiting.  A quiet voice interrupted her daily musings on the person of her King.

"Melanie." Jareth stood in the doorframe, his hands loosely at his sides.

Melanie whirled around. The King always pooped out of nowhere, surprising her. "Jareth!" It had taken her so long to get use of calling him by his name rather than his title, but they couldn't risk her calling him by his title when somebody else was there, therefore, she had been asked to call him by his name. Walking in his direction, a smile on her red lips, she moved her hands excited like a small child. "It's good publicity for your CD. With that, we…"

But Jareth cut her. "I don't even want to know how you learned her existence, I have a pretty good idea but I will say it clear, loud and once: stay away from her."

He didn't make a movement but she froze in her steps. He didn't budge an eyelid but she found herself speechless. He didn't raise his voice but she was suddenly cowering in front of him. She felt like the fly attracted to a bright flame, too bright and burning on it.

That was then she understood: she had thought she was part of his world, working closely with him, but she wasn't. All this had a purpose, and only one. He had told her, he had warned her, but she chose to ignore. She had chosen to ignore that he was a King, a King expecting to be acknowledged as, respected as, obeyed as one.  Oh, Lord, how many times before they all started this charade, how many times did he warn her? How many times did he insist on the secrecy of his life? How many?

"I'm not in need of money nor do I want more, the core reason all this happened was for her and her alone." It was something in his stance, something she had forgotten, something which radiated from him, something that made him stood like a King.

"If you make a living, it's like a hyena, eating the corpses, what has been discarded." He sneered and turned around, leaving her without a second glance, without having rose his voice once, as if she was unimportant.

Something in his stance and her knees buckled and she fell on the ground. "Jareth!" She cried after him. She didn't make any mistake! It was all for him, all! She just wanted to… Bowing her head, she let the sobs building in her chest reached her eyes.

"You've made a grave mistake, Melanie." Another man stood in the doorframe and Melanie snapped her head up to see Sariel leaning against her doorframe, his eyes boring an infinite sadness. Sadness for whom, however, she didn't know. Shaking his head, Sariel walked in and put her back on her feet. "You should have known better than making Jareth your enemy." He told her quietly.

Raising her watering eyes up to him, Melanie tried to defend herself. "Sariel! I just…"

But Sariel never let her. He was loyal only to his King. "Jareth will finish this tour and keep his engagements, but don't you dream of another CD. Once his trust is lost, it's forever: you know, as me, Jareth rarely, if never, forgives."

"But!" She tried a last time but knew she had lost.

"No buts, Melanie, I don't care." Sariel shook his head again and turned around, pausing only at her door to turn around once more and reaching for her door to close it, he told her. "He told you from day one: you had to take care of the business part, but you had to never meddle in his private life, on the opposite, you had to do all what possible to keep his private life as hidden as possible. You failed. He warned you, you can't deny it, we were all present so you can only blame yourself on that one."

And before Sariel could close the door, Melanie yelled. "I thought it would help: people are always eager for these kinds of tasty stories. It brings their idol on a more human level, not just a star shining too brightly and too high for them!"

"I don't care. Oh! I almost forgot, I've got another message for you from Jareth: 'I don't care how you do it, or how much it'll cost, but keep her out of this.' I'll let you ponder of what he'll do if her name is revealed. Have a nice day." Sariel closed the door and Melanie stared. She had screwed up and Jareth, rather her King, wasn't going to forgive her when she had just wanted to please him.

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A small red car stopped at the back entrance of the house, attracting the guard attention. Franck had been standing there since early this morning to prevent any journalists who would tried to sneak in. So far, he had politely, but firmly, stopped three attempts. So, when the car stopped to let a small brunette get out of it, Franck narrowed his eyes. He looked behind the approaching female and saw that her two companions remained in the car, whose engine was still on. The brunette approached him and smiled a bright smile. "Excuse me…" She started, with a sweet voice and clear shining eyes.

And he couldn't help but smile. Being in this business had him met thousands of girls like this one and she probably wasn't very different than the bunch he had met before but he let her do her little game. "Yes? Miss?"  He smiled down at her.

The girl's smile turned icy and she frowned. "Mrs. Thompson." She corrected him and squaring her little shoulders, as if she had understood he wouldn't let her in, despite all the cuteness she could display, she said, in an almost icy tone. "We are looking for Jareth Bane."

The tall blond guardian smiled and shook his head. "A lot of people are looking for him, Mrs. Thompson. I'm sorry but I can't…"

The small lady cut him rudely but he wasn't fazed. He was simply used to it. "My friend needs to see him." She said quickly waving at her two companions in the car. In response, the driver turned off the engine and stepped out of the car, helping the other passenger out. There was a man, with spiky brown hair and another woman, taller than the first, with sunglasses and long black hair.

Looking over the first head, Franck watched the couple approach, narrowing his eyes. There was so much weirdoes running wild these days, so what if those three were trying to get at his employers. Judging the man's built, Franck thought he could easily take him down, but then, the women could while he was distracted with the man sneak into the house. "I'm sure she does, but listen Mrs., there's no way you're seeing Mr. Bane and…" He said, not looking at her.

But, then, the tall woman with black hair removed her sunglasses as she reached the smaller woman's side.  "Please, I need to see Jareth." She pleaded, her green eyes obviously red from tears.

Franck blinked and stared at the woman. It was the woman his boss had been spotted with, the reason of all this commotion. "You are…" He spluttered.

"Quick, before the journalists spot us!" The small brunette snapped at him and Franck turned to open the gate he was standing in front of.

"This way, this way!" He told them, as he quickly lead them inside the back garden of the property.

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Well, well, well, I guess I have to stop here as this chapter is getting too long already! This is only the first half, I hope you'll like it!

See you soon

Mikim.