Disclaimer: Though they are fictional characters from a show, they are based on real people. I do not own these people or the people who own them.

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You're Nothing Special To Me

Then Planets closed.

And, with it, a little part of Philip died.

Without the excuse of having to plan and design and run everything with the club, he was hard pressed to find a good excuse to avoid George. Not that it was a problem. George was busy tending to Marcus and his fledging career. It was more keeping George off his mind that was the problem.

As soon as Planets closed everything seemed to go downhill in the worst way possible. Sue was never around, Marilyn was hot on George's heels everywhere he went pestering him about his own interests and George; well, George was off in his own little world most of the time. Between his band and his man, he had a full plate.

Philip was helpless.

He still attended the clubs - made his appearances, as was neccessary, but it almost seemed a lost cause anymore.

One night at Taboo, George decided to grace the club with his presence. He was greeted with the usual fanfare, but Philip just did as he usually did where George was concerned and faded into the background.

Needless to say he was shocked when George sought him out.

"Philip! Come here, yeah?"

Philip looked left and right and then behind him, cocked an eyebrow and gestured grandly to himself. "Me?"

"Of course you! You're the only Philip I know."

"But I thought you were above speaking to us underlings, dear."

"Philip, please don't do this to me right now. We need to talk."

George's usually flawless makeup was running down his cheeks and his eyes were puffy as though he'd been crying for hours. Philip's face fell, as well as his act. He immeadiately went to George, frowning and pulling him into the bathroom where they could talk.

"What the matter, darling? You look dreadful."

"I know. I can't help it. He's gone and broke it off again, Philip."

Oh.

He.

Him.

Marcus.

"Oh, come here."

He pulled George into a hug and didn't even complain when his favourite purple coat got George's makeup on it. He simply ran his fingers through his friend's hair and let him cry.

"I don't know what I do wrong. I try so hard and it's just never enough for him or it's not the right thing and I don't know why! I love him, Philip. Why is it like this? It's like he does it on purpose."

"Shh, I know, pet. And I'm sorry. He's a loathesome little wretch and you're above that, darling. Really, you are."

Philip pressed a small kiss to the top of George's head, losing his fingers in the brown waves as he pulled him closer.

The eyeliner that was running down George's cheeks seemed almost intentional and Philip couldn't help but think how pretty he was - even like this. Especially like this. It was the only time he ever needed Philip.

"What did I do wrong, Philip?"

"You did nothing wrong, dear," He cupped George's face in his hands and looked him in the eye, "nothing. I'm sure of it. And I'm sure you're a wonderful boyfriend. He just doesn't know what he wants and you're the one that ends up hurt because of it. Ooh, I could kill him."

"Don't say that."

"It's true!"

"It hurts me."

"I'm sorry." There was a slight pause before Philip had to add quietly, "But it is true."

"D'you really think I'm a good boyfriend?"

Philip couldn't help but stiffen a bit at the question. A million snarky remarks ran through his mind before he responded.

"Yes. You're caring and loving and sweet and have an absolute genius for making people feel wanted."

George caught the bit of sarcasm that couldn't escape the sentence.

"Is that why you avoid me?"

"I'm not your boyfriend. And I don't avoid you."

"You won't take my calls, you never talk to me and when I find you, you always walk away. That's not avoiding me?"

"No. And I'm with you now, aren't I? So stop bitching, will you? And besides, this isn't my fault, now is it? No."

"Fuck you, then! I don't need you! You're a jealous bitch, you always have been!"

"You say that as though I have some great need of you. Well, I've got news for you, Mister Boy George: I don't. And neither does anyone else around here. We've got our own lives to live."

"Fine!"

"Fine."

"Alright!"

"Okay."

"Okay!"

"Oh, come on, George. This is getting ridiculous. Honestly."

"Well, fuck you too, then, Philip!"

"Yes, yes, fuck me. It's always me, isn't it? I don't need this."

And with that, Philip was gone.

George had a strange way of driving people away when he really needed them, but Philip had stuck around through the strorm more than once and the payoff, in his experience, was not worth the Hell he went through to get it.

Not anymore.