Howard awoke to Naboo and Bollo seriously discussing something in the kitchen. The first thought that came to his mind was where was Vince, how was he and what was he doing? But Vince wasn't anywhere to be seen, which unsettled Howard's stomach slightly.

"What's going on?" he asked, crossing to the kitchen.

Naboo looked down at the floor awkwardly.

"Vince missing," Bollo replied.

Howard's stomach fully churned then, causing his heart to pound faster and harder. He wouldn't rest anymore until he had found Vince, and he wasn't going to waste any more time. Not even pulling on a change of clothes, let alone a shower, he stuffed his feet into his shoes and rushed out the door.

He searched Camden for hours it seemed, checking around all the clubs Vince usually visited with all of his followers and friends. But all of this thorough searching wasn't proving to be of any use, and he grew more and more panicked when he realised he had searched the whole of Camden more than three times. Whenever he saw a figure with black, choppy hair, his heart leapt up into his throat, but the figure revealed itself as either a woman or a Vince wannabe. His heart then sank back down again, leaving him more miserable than ever.

He returned back to the flat after three hours of searching, however he hadn't lost any of his determination and was keen to get out searching again later after he had resolved his hunger and had a shower. Naboo and Bollo looked up hopefully when he walked in.

"No sign, but I'm not giving up," he said firmly.

"We'll go out with you aswell later," Naboo said, inhaling on a bong him and his familiar were sharing.

"I appreciate your help," Howard forced a smile to them, and continued into the bathroom to prepare a shower.

As he let the warm, refreshing water spill over him, he wasn't going to lie to himself that he wasn't worried. He wasn't going to reassure himself that Vince was fine. This thought alone made him cut down his usual shower time by at least seven minutes, making him jump out and dry and dress at lightning speed, it seemed. Where could Vince possibly be? He thought to himself as he pulled on his corduroys. It was the afternoon now; surely someone must've found him already, if he hadn't woken up, which he probably should've! The thought of Vince in a coma struck Howard hard, and he felt a large lump form in his throat. He wasn't waiting around for Naboo and Bollo- if they weren't ready, he was keen to get out and search again by himself.

"I'm searching again now," he announced after swiftly leaving the bedroom. "Are you ready?"

Naboo placed his turban firmly upon his head, and gave Howard a determined look. "I'm ready." "Bollo ready too," added his familiar.

The three of them left the flat and began to search. Naboo took to the back alleyways, Bollo trekked around the streets and Howard checked all the restaurants, cafés, pubs and clubs. It was only half an hour into searching that Naboo, turban astray, bolted around the corner up to Howard, who was peering into a shop window.

"Found him," he said, out of breath.

Howard patted Naboo on the shoulder thankfully and rushed ahead, Naboo giving him hasty directions. He soon came across Vince, sat in a grubby, smelly back alley leant against the wall, sprawled out. His matted hair was in tangles and outfit all dirty. He had large, dark circles underneath his eyes – mainly caused by smudged eyeliner, but also by lack of decent sleep.

"Vince," Howard kneeled down and gently shook him.

Vince groaned, and opened his eyes halfway, wincing at the two worried figures stood above him. He wasn't drunk anymore, he didn't think, he'd just consumed far too much alcohol last night and had a shocking hangover. A soaring pain in his head confirmed this and he let out a long moan out of sheer agony.

"Vince?" Howard swept his greasy fringe out of his face, lightly patting it. "Vince, let us take you home, put you to bed."

The hungover electro boy held a hand to his forehead, trying to massage the headache through his temples. He knew the figure speaking was Howard, but still tried to maintain being angry at him and didn't reply.

"Come on, Vince," Naboo held out a hand and Vince took it, pointedly ignoring Howard's hand. As Naboo pulled him up, Howard helped, despite Vince's rejection. He didn't care if his best friend was mad at him. He was just glad he was safe.

When the two had found Bollo, it didn't take long to get back to the flat, as Bollo's strong primate arms did the job of carrying Vince nicely and in no time they were in the warm and Howard was carrying him to the bedroom, despite his weak struggles to be put down.

For the second time in a week, Howard lay Vince down on the bed, feeling a slight de ja vu from the other day. His heart fluttered when he remembered the feeling of kissing his best friend.

"I didn't need you to carry me, Howard," Vince snapped, head drooping.

"I think you did, little man," Howard said.

Vince looked up at him in surprise as his favourite nickname had been said. The warmth in Howard's voice made him gulp, and made his heart beat faster as he stared up at the Northern Jazz freak, who was gazing back at him. But then Vince's entranced expression turned into a one of hatred as a thought hit him – why is he acting so cruelly? Judging me, ignoring me, and now trying to suck up to me again? Who does this joker think he is?

And with that thought in mind, Vince rolled over so he had his back to him. Howard, knowing what all this was about, sighed heavily.

"Vince, look, I'm sorry," he said sincerely, sitting himself down on the bed beside him.

Vince buried his face into the pillow. "Leave me alone, 'Oward."

"I won't, until you get the message I'm putting across. That I'm sorry for treating you that way. I've never been in a situation like this before, it's very weird and confusing and I'm not used to confrontations and talking about things. But I know this has really upset you and I'm willing to talk about it-"

"Well the Prince of Camden doesn't want to speak with you right now," Vince said shortly into the pillow.

"Vince, please!" Howard begged.

With all the little energy Vince had left, he pushed himself up. "You judge me, accusing me that I don't care and that I say things I don't mean, saying you don't trust me and that I don't have feelings – that my body's just like a sausage, with a liver and a kidney stuck in there somewhere. I have a mind, and a soul, as well as a brain. I also have a heart. And my heart fucking belongs to you, Howard. To you. I've loved you for years. Just because I was drunk doesn't mean I was talking crap. Because if you were a normal person, you'd know that alcohol gives you confidence to say how you truly feel to the one person who makes your heart skip, whenever he comes into view. Do you know how nervous I was to say those three simple words to you? I'd been bigging it up for ages, getting so worked up about it. Then when I finally say it, you shoot me right back down again, breaking my heart. But whatever you do, my heart will always belong to you, youbig, Northern, jazzynonce."

Vince sat there, out of breath, staring deep into the eyes of the beautiful man before him, who looked absolutely shell shocked. His expression was a complete mixture – overwhelmed, upset, happy, relieved, but most of all, loved up. He stared back at Vince, their eyes locking into each other, realization hitting both of them. Realizing that all the things they did together, and to each other, whether they were good or bad, were out of love. True love that Vince had just confirmed, for Howard didn't have to say anything to declare his. His expression said at all, and the fact that he had said it a couple years earlier, when the two of them narrowly avoided an icy death in the Arctic Tundra. Vince still felt awful about laughing every time he thought about it, the only reason a giggle passed his lips was because it was so unexpected, but so overwhelming, he laughed without realizing. Because he was so happy his true love loved him back.

And then Howard smiled, not ashamed to let tears spill over his eyes. Vince lifted a finger and gently wiped the trickling tears away, still a bit upset about how Howard had treated him, but at the same time overjoyed that he finally believed him.

"I'm sorry, Vince," Howard muttered, in a choked voice.

"It's alright," Vince smiled, an apology the only thing he needed.

If Vince had his way, he'd pull Howard into a rib-breaking hug, but his headache had worsened after his rant and it was difficult to even keep his eyes open. The pain was too much bear, and Howard instantly understood.

"I'll let you get some sleep," he said softly, before standing up and leaving the room silently. Vince was prepared to protest but his exhaustion defeated him before he could even speak.