After a few hours, the party started to die out. A few people had moved on to the next club but most had just gone home. The young DJ just hadn't been able to keep people's interest after the climax of the argument and now, he'd begun to pack up his equipment looking thoroughly defeated. Vince hadn't danced since Howard had left. There were two reasons for this; one, he didn't feel like it and, two, no one wanted to dance with him, through fear of getting floored by a jealous jazzy freak. So he contented himself with sitting at the bar, happily accepting free drinks from a hopeful man sat next to him.
"You shee," Vince slurred, to anyone who'd listen. "people jusht don't believe me when I shay I'm in love because of my reputera rep reutati… my past."
"Hmm." the barman frowned, placing another glass in front of Vince and glowering at the electro man who was none-to-subtly getting the rock star drunk.
"I love Howard." Vince picked up the glass, gestured his thanks to the barman and took a long sip, before continuing, "But people think that I'm a shlut or a shlag or something."
"But you're not?" asked the man."No, I'm monogomonomonomous."
"D'you mean monogamous?" he asked.
"Ummm," Vince frowned thoughtfully and then beamed, "Yesh."
"Okay, so where is this Saint Howard? He ain't here, is he?"
"Howard's not a Saint and I think he's gone home. He's angry at me."
"Why would he be angry with a guy as sweet as you, huh?"
Vince giggled, "I ain't sweet. I'm a tit! I told him I wished he was dead."
"Why would you do that?"
"He told me I was a washed-up musician."
"I like your music."
"Everyone does." Vince replied miserably.
"That's a good thing, isn't it?"
Vince shrugged. "I want Howard to be happy more than I want to be a rock star."
"Well, I know something that would make him realise he loves you."
"What?" Vince asked with hopeful innocense. The man leant forward and whispered something in Vince's ear, lightly stroking his shoulder. Vince blinked. "But wouldn't he just think I was being unfaithful?"
"No, not if you come with me now."
Vince frowned thoughtfully. He wasn't sure if this man was trustworthy or not, but he had been very kind buying him all those drinks.
"Come on." urged the man and Vince was just about to agree, when his phone buzzed in his pocket.
"There you are." smiled the barman optimistically, shooting the other man a filthy look. "I bet that's Howard checking where you are, and you." he looked at the other man, "are barred."
"What I didn't do anything?"
"I don't allow that level of blatant petting at my bar."
"What!?"
"Out!"
The man, left looking incredibly put out as Vince pulled his phone clumsily out of his pocket and looked at the text. The letters danced, blurry and incoherent in front of his unfocused eyes.
"Can't read it." he mumbled thrusting the phone at the barman. "Wassit say?"
Sent: 12:26
Date: 8/12/2008
Sender: xx-Howard Lover-xx
Gone home. No need to
panic. I'm fine. C U l8r.
H xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The barman recited the text and Vince frowned. A text from Howard? Howard could hardly ring using his mobile, let alone text. Vince had taught him how to do it sort of, ages ago on a really boring Tuesday evening, but it was only about half an hour before Howard, after deciding texting was an insult to stationary, had declared he would never text… ever. Vince was pretty sure that even if Howard did decide to text, he simply wouldn't be able to destroy his beloved English language enough to text something like 'C U' and Vince was convinced Howard had once tried to tell him that 'l8r' was an insult to Shakespeare, or something like that. Vince had switched off by that point. Either way, it didn't add up that Howard would text and with no mention of their row. Not being entirely sure what to do Vince snatched his phone and text back.
Sent: 12:29
Date: 8/11/2008
Sender: Vince
U feeling alright? Texting isn't
like you. R U angry with me?
I'm sorry for dancing with Chad.
He's a jerk. I've fired him.
I love u more than nefing. I prob.
shudnt say this in a txt. Ring me
wen u gt this, yer?
Lv u! Sorry.
Vince xxxxxx
"Check this." Vince slurred, holding the phone to the barman. "Does it make sense?"
"Yeah, it's fine."
Seemingly satisfied with that, he pressed send and waited. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Fifteen minutes. With every passing second Vince became more and more sober, the nerves chasing the alcohol from his bloodstream. He felt even more anxious as he realised just how long it was since he'd last seen Howard.
He felt awful, everything from the day before suddenly came thundering back to him. Howard telling him he hated him. Vince telling Howard he wished he'd died. Howard's eyes dull from the hurt. The making up. Howard holding him. Howard kissing him. The weird faux-amicableness that today had been filled with. Both giving the other strained smiles. Both knowing that at any second the other could snap, walking on eggshells because they simply couldn't fight anymore, they didn't have the strength left. And now this. Their most public row ever.
His knight in tweed armour stepping in when he was struggling to scupper Chad's advances. But Vince was too proud to admit he'd needed help so he'd shouted. He didn't know why. It didn't make sense. It hurt so much to yell at the person he loved more than anyone, but he still did it. They both did. And the paparazzi had been there, like they always were. Snapping hundreds photos. Dictaphone's recording every hurtful comment.
Now everyone would no the truth; Vince Noir had final received his fair share of karma. He'd lied and cheated his way through all his previous relationships, each girl thinking they'd changed him and that he loved her, and now, when he'd finally found the man to change him that he truly loved, the man didn't believe he was capable of staying faithful. A twisted and sick irony. Vince laughed because he didn't know what else to do.
He glared at his phone, willing it to buzz. Why wasn't Howard replying? Something wasn't right. Howard never texted and more importantly he always rang back immediately when Vince asked him too. It had crossed the his mind that maybe Howard couldn't bring himself to talk to him right now, but then why text in the first place?
Suddenly, Vince ran to the toilet, thinking he was going to be sick. He wasn't sure if it was the fear, alcohol or a combination of the two but he retched a few times. His eyes watering, he dropped to the disgusting, sticky floor. The place stank of booze, drugs and sex, but Vince didn't notice. He was numb. Just then Vince's phone vibrated loudly on the tiled floor. Vince picked it up, shaking violently and opened the message.
Sent: 12:53
Date: 8/12/2008
Sender: xx-Howard Lover-xx
I'm at home. Stop worrying. Stay
At par-t. Get drunk, hav a gd time.
C U wen u gt bak. N Dnt worry
bout anything, all is forgiven.
Lv u 2!
Howard xxxxxxxxxxxxx
'Get drunk, hav a gd time.'? 'par-t'? And Vince knew. This wasn't Howard. It couldn't be. It didn't sound like Howard. Howard simply wouldn't put that. What the hell was going on? He rang the mobile… it rang for ages and ages.
"Come on, come on. Pick up." he whispered urgently and he breathed a sigh of relief as the smooth Yorkshire voice said;
"Hello."
"Howard, oh thank god."
"Hello."
"Howard?"
"Hello. Oh this is ridiculous. Stupid bloody phone." And Vince knew he'd gone through to the answer machine. "VINCE!" the pre-recorded Howard yelled. "It's not working, it's not recording. I don't know why I need a personalised message anyway."
And then his own voice; "Because it's cool," and then his laugh "It is recording you idiot!"
"Is it?"
"Yeah, you've been recording the whole time. Don't look so embarrassed, unless you've said something totally personal like, Howard Moon's got a nice arse. But actually you probably wouldn't say that, it'd be literal narcissism, maybe you could say Vince Noir is a sex god."
"Is this still recording?"
"Umm, yep."
"Oh god."
"Look, just say something like leave a message after the bleep."
"No thank you, I'll just hang up and start again."
"No, if you hang up it just saves your…"
Vince smiled to himself. Howard really should change that message, just as he was getting lost in the memories a text came through.
Sent: 12:53
Date: 8/12/2008
Sender: xx-Howard Lover-xx
Why are you ringing me?
Sent: 12:54
Date: 8/12/2008
Sender: Vince
Who the hell are you!!
And wher is Howard!!
Sent: 12:58
Date: 8/12/2008
Sender: xx-Howard Lover-xx
Very clever Vince. People say
You're not the smartest person
In the world but you picked that
up quickly. Howard's fine.
He's safe. I've got him with me.
I wont hurt him, I love him.
More than you ever could. You
break his heart. You hurt him,
you go behind his back, you upset
him. He deserves better. Much
better. He deserves me.
Oh no! Please God no. Please don't let him be… Vince retched. Tears streamed down his face. He screamed. He punched. He kicked. He clawed at the wall. He could hardly breath. His throat felt tight and restricted. Everything inside him burned in agony.
"Hey." the barman, on hearing the strangled noise, came in the toilets to find Vince curled up in a tormented ball of pain. "What's going on?"
"He's, he's… he's gone."