By the time they left the flat, morning had turned to afternoon and the Saturday shopping crowds were out in force. People barged past, not looking where they were going, not giving anyone but themselves the slightest bit of attention. Even in the middle of that, Howard felt exposed. Like he was being watched.
Even wearing the most subdued of Vince's outfits, without the make-up and the glitter, Vince, he knew from experience, would stand out. He always had, even when they were children. It was as though there was something inside him that burned brighter and more visibly than in other people. It was the thing Howard had first noticed about him all those years ago.
Howard glanced at the man next to him. Even wearing Howard's body, it was still there. Less easy to see, true, as though it had been dulled by the clothes he was reluctantly wearing, but it was still there. That gave Howard some modicum of relief, actually. Because if that spark was inside Vince's consciousness, his soul if you will, it wasn't there sharing body space with Howard, beaming out 'look at me' signals to the entire population of London. Still, that didn't make him feel entirely better, because he was still hyper-aware of himself.
People jostling past, bumping into him without even bothering to look up were still, in his mind, staring, whispering, pointing. He dug his hands deep into the pockets of Vince's jacket, aimed his gaze directly at his feet and walked as quickly as he could.
At his side, Vince had an actual, genuine bounce in his step. He practically skipped along the street, seemingly interested in everything in a way that Howard had previously thought only a puppy could be.
"Howard?"
"Hmm?" He kept his eyes firmly planted on the floor, if anyone was staring he'd rather remain blissfully ignorant than have to deal with it.
"Did you ever wonder if things look different to different people? Like colours and stuff? 'Cos before I was always thinking like, yeah I'm seeing blue, but if someone else is looking at it are they seeing something else? Like green or orange or fluorescent pink, but they call it blue 'cos that's what they were taught blue looks like. That would explain why some people have no fashion sense. Do you know what I mean?"
"Not really, no."
"Oh. Well it doesn't anyway. Everything looks the same."
"Right." Howard glanced up from his shoes for a second, "Do you know what doesn't look the same? Us. So why don't you stop this jumping up and down thing. You're not acting like yourself, Vince."
"I'm not myself,"
That earned the tiniest of smiles from Howard, "Yeah. But you're not acting like me either, are you? What happened to not embarrassing each other?"
Vince shrugged, "Aren't you finding this exciting?"
Well, not exciting exactly, intriguing, yes. And given half a chance, he too would be eager to experiment a little, find out just what the world looked like through the eyes of Vince Noir, but he couldn't. Every time he felt himself starting to relax, it was cut short by a churning in the pit of his... of Vince's stomach, and a little voice in the back of his mind whispering that if he got too comfortable,enjoyed himself too much, he might not be able to leave. Or worse, he might not want to.
"Howard?"
"What?"
"I said aren't you finding this exciting."
Howard dug his hands deeper into his pockets and shook his head. "No, not really. What if one of your friends comes up and talks to me? I'm not going to know what to say. I can't even do a realistic impression of you when I'm in your body. This is going to be a disaster. Can we just get on with whatever you needed to do that was so urgent and get home? I want to be there when Naboo arrives."
"What, you mean tomorrow afternoon?" Vince grinned, "I think we'll make it." They rounded a corner and Vince's grin grew even wider. He sped up and disappeared through the glass doors of Topshop. Howard cringed inwardly but followed.
As Howard walked through the sliding glass doors, the closest shop assistant abandoned the jeans he had been re-arranging and rushed over, "Vince!" he placed his hand a little too familiarly on Howard's arm, and Howard suppressed the urge to shake it away and back off rapidly. Touching was reserved only for the closest of friends, and sometimes not even then.
"How are you?" the man whose name badge declared his name to be Gary asked, "Did you go to Jaques LeCube's party? I didn't see you there."
"Oh, erm...no," Howard tried to mimic Vince's accent, but he knew it didn't sound good. Luckily, Gary didn't seem to notice. Howard had no idea whether Vince had gone to the party or not, and he couldn't think of a single thing to say. The only think he could think about was the unwelcome hand on his arm, the intent stare and the fact that Vince seemed to have completely abandoned him. He glanced around the shop, but there was no sign of the other man. Irritated, he pulled his arm free and used it to pretend to browse a rack of t-shirts.
"Oh, right. Cool." Gary looked relieved, "I thought maybe you was avoiding me or something." He looked away for a second, and when he looked back, Howard got the distinct impression that he has nervous about something. Probably about chatting to customers when he's supposed to be working, Howard thought to himself. "So, what are you doing tonight?"
Howard tried to think of a suitably Vince-like claim that he could make, something that sounded believable. But wouldn't result in him having to go out or Vince appearing a liar. "I..." nothing sprung to mind, "I haven't decided yet. I've got so many invites."
"Oh, yeah. Me too. But hey, maybe I'll see you. You going Jaques' next one? Next Saturday, it's going to be epic!"
This was getting tedious. Was he going to have to predict Vince's movements for the rest of the year? And where had Vince gone? Surely he had noticed by now that Howard wasn't right behind him, surely he should be rescuing him by now. "Yes, why not. Whatever."
Gary's face broke into a grin, "Alright! I'll see you there then." He wandered off, looking back once to flash Howard he happiest of grins, then carried on with his re-arranging of the jeans.
Howard jumped at more unexpected physical contact as someone tapped him on the shoulder. He spun around to see Vince behind him, arms full of clothes and a mildly pissed off expression on his face, "I only caught the end of that," he said, "but Howard, please tell me you didn't agree to go out with that guy."
"I...what?" Howard was mortified to find that the encounter had left him physically shaking. It was one thing just being Howard looking like Vince, it was quite a another one to pretend to be Vince to someone who didn't know what was happening. He had been terrified of being found out, even though it wouldn't really have mattered. He silently cursed Vince's body for this uncharacteristic and unnerving physical reaction.
"The bloke you were talking to. Gary. He's been trying to get me to go out with him for ages, he's so not my type. Well done you berk. Now what am I going to do?"
"I didn't say I'd go out with him. I said you'd go to the party. I assumed you would, you go to every other one. If you'd been here to back me up instead of off shopping, it might not have happened. What are we doing here anyway? This has got to be the worst possible time to shop for clothes, how are you going to try anything on?"
Vince smiled, "That's the genius part. You're going to try them on, and I get to see what it looks like from all angles."
"No. No way. I'm not doing that."
Vince managed not to look hurt, "Well, that was the last part of the plan anyway, maybe you'll change your mind. The first part is this," he held up a t-shirt triumphantly.
"A T-shirt. Yes, great plan," Howard was trying not to sound irritable, but it wasn't working.
"Do you like it?"
Howard looked at the garment critically. It was an off-white colour with a pattern of squares in different colours printed on the chest. It wasn't bad, he supposed. Not Vince's usual style though. "Yeah, it's okay."
"It's for you."
"What?"
Vince turned around and walked away, Howard followed again. The walked to the back of the shop and into the changing rooms, where Vince dived into a cubicle and pulled the curtain across. Howard slipped inside after him. "What are you doing?"
"I'm trying these clothes on for you. Don't worry, there's no glitter on any of them, they aren't that tight, and this jacket is even brown. Me in brown, imagine that!"
"Vince..."
"If you really don't like them, I'll put them back, but please just try. You've been wearing the same clothes since, like, 1985. It's time for a change, don't you think? I've been meaning to get you wearing something decent for a while now, I figured I'm never going to get a chance like his again."
"I hope not." Howard sighed, and looked at the clothes. "Fine, try them on if it means that much to you."
"It does!" Vince removed his shirt, the least hideous one he could find in Howard's side of the wardrobe and slipped on the t-shirt. His hands moved to the fly of his trousers and Howard felt the ridiculous urge to turn away and give him some privacy.
"What do you reckon?" Vince spun around slowly on the spot to give Howard view from all angles.
Howard scratched his forehead and watched critically. It was okay, actually. Not him, definitely not his style, but not bad. He rather liked it. It even seemed to make him look younger, though that could have had something to do with the man currently occupying his body, giving it a relaxed demeanour that it hadn't know in years.
"You like it, don't you? I can tell!" Vince was grinning, turning around to inspect Howard's back in the mirror, his gaze moving down until it rested in a place that Howard wasn't entirely comfortable with.
"It's okay, I suppose."
"Knew it!" Vince gave himself one quick final look in the mirror and began to undress, "Perfect fit, too. How good am I at that?! I'm getting you these. And when you're you again, you're wearing them, right. Outside, too."
Howard shrugged his agreement, it was impossible to argue with someone so enthusiastic. And anyway, he had just gone out wearing Vince, he could probably cope with a new set of clothes.
"Now," said Vince as he put on Howard's shirt, "you wanna be a model for a bit?"