It was a full day until Vince recovered enough to move.

The party goer had ignored Howard's pleas for information, shuffling with deadened eyes to the kettle, which he stuck on, already pulling out a Mick Jagger cup and filling it with more coffee than was socially acceptable. In spite of his inner turmoil, a smile tugged at the corner of Howard's lips. Some things never changed.

The kettle finished rattling with a resounding click, condensation creeping at the edges of the upstairs window. Vince wrapped his long bony fingers around the cup, stumbling to the sofa. He sighed, tilting back his head and closing his eyes. Naboo merely rolled his.

"Come 'ere Bollo, we don't need to waste our time with this dramatic pounce. Peacock Dreams is on."

"Homo," Bollo grunted in agreement, following his friend out of the room. All was silent then, save from the soft crackle of the radio in the background and the heavy laboured breathing of Vince's chest as it wheezed up and down. Howard bit his tongue, unsure of what to do. Would asking what happened aggravate his best friend, or reduce him to tears? How was Howard possibly meant to know the inner workings of Vince's mind when he was in a state like this?

You've been in his mind before.

Howard scowled at the sound of his conscience.

Yeah, but that was different. That was sunshine Vince. This, is…

His inner thoughts trailed off as he realised he didn't have an adequate answer.

"Howard?" A voice croaked.

At first Howard didn't even consider looking up.

Because how could that soulless voice ever be Vince? Vince would never sound that miserable, or needy. Vince would be bursting with light. You would be able to hear the grin on his face, even before you saw it.

"Howard," It begged.

That voice was also too heartbreaking to ignore.

Howard stood, a fake smile on his lips, and walked over to Vince, sitting down on the sofa beside him. Vince's head rolled up again, and he opened his eyes.

To Howard's utter shock, they glistened with tears. For the second day in a row. The eccentric's bottom lip began to quiver.

Howard closed the gap between them in seconds, wrapping Vince in his arms. Vince clung to his sides desperately, sobbing into the hollow of his neck.

"I-i- -s-s-orry h-howard!"

The jazz enthusiast stroked his friend's hair slowly, at a loss as to what to do. He could feel his natural revulsion at being touched itching under his skin, but he ignored it for the sake of his distraught friend.

"Hey now little man, don't cry. I'm here for you."

He got a choked wail as a response. If anything, the sobs increased.

"Vince I know it's hard, but I need you to tell me what happened. Please? How can I help if you don't tell me what happened? Who made you feel like this? We'll see who's crying after monsoon Moon comes raining down on this cunt like….er…rain….."

Howard trailed off awkwardly as he realised he wasn't exactly helping matters. Vince sniffed, trying to control his voice and pull himself together.

"Y….y-you p-promise you won't laugh? You can't laugh Howard, I won't handle it if you do!"

Howard was extremely concerned now. Not only that his friend was an utter mess (though that was pretty taxing) but that Vince had somehow managed to lose the un-denying trust he'd always had for his partner in crime. It was this, and other little things, that were beginning to unnerve Howard beyond his liking.

"As if I could laugh at you in this state. Go on, tell me what's wrong."

Vince took a deep breath, detaching himself from Howard, wiping the back of his hand across his nose. Vince frowned.

Across his pale skin, a smudge of scarlet.

"Howard my nose is bleedi-…"

Vince froze as he realised why, guilt immediately filling him. Howard had to restrain himself for shouting at Vince for taking drugs.

Again.

Vince steadied himself.

"I…okay. When I was at t-the club, dancin' and stuff, everyone was surrounding me as usual. I had a bit too much to drink, got a bit…silly. There was this….guy there who was interested in…."

It was at this moment when Vince suddenly paused, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth, an onslaught of blurred pictures running through his mind. When he opened them again, he saw that the worried look in Howard's eyes had, if anything, gotten worse.

"He was pretty hot, and I'd never really been with a guy in that way before. Only kisses and BJ's, y'know? Not…THAT. So I decided I'd t-try it. We went to his place, But I felt uncomfortable, wanted to call it off. He wouldn't let me leave. He….he p-pinned me d-d-down and d-did things to me."

Vince took a breath, nervously observing Howard. His friend was completely blank. Not knowing if that was a good sign or not, Vince pressed on.

"After he was…. Finished with me, I managed to get out of his flat. I just felt so…wrong. Y'know? All weak and pathetic. Weak and pathetic isn't how Vince Noir should be. I felt like it was my fault… I wanted to be happy again. So I went 'round the back of Camden market and scored some coke. Got into another club, did some weed with Leroy, did the coke, got even more wasted. Leroy made me come back after a while, cus' I couldn't walk I was so hammered. He ordered me a cab and I came back here. That's it."

Howard stared at Vince. Vince stared at Howard. An awkward silence enveloped the pair.

"Oh god little man. I'm so so-"

"Don't."

Howard looked at his friend with wide, concerned eyes.

"Don't?"

"I love you an' all 'oward, but please. Don't give me sympathy. It just makes me feel like…there's something wrong with me."

Vince paused, an uncertain smile creeping onto his face.

"But there's nothing wrong with me, is there?"

"Wait, what?"

Howard was flustered. He couldn't deal with all of these sudden mood changes.

"I'm….."

Vince trailed off, rising to his feet with shaky legs and walking to the bathroom, sweeping a fringe of black hair out of his face. A nervous Howard followed.

Vince looked at himself, smile fading a little. He swallowed, taking a deep breath, observing his reflection in the dimly lit mirror.

"….Beautiful."

He frowned at his reflection.

"Or at least, I can be. I can make myself beautiful. I will be beautiful. What I am now is a washed up, fat mess. Howard, I'm gonna take a shower, 'kay? I feel so icky, ugh. You must hate having to see me in this state, I've never looked so ugly in my life. Make sure Naboo and Bollo don't come up while I'm in the shower, yeah? Love ya."

And with a half-hearted kiss on his cheek, Vince left Howard hanging, closing the bathroom door in his face.

Howard however, couldn't just shower his thoughts away. Vince had called himself ugly and washed up many times when hung over, and although Howard would have never been so harsh as to say it, he didn't look that good after a night out on the town. Who would?

But Vince had never, ever, called himself fat.

Pulsating muscles throbbed, stretched and groaned as they were put through their paces. Flecks of blood found themselves dotted in neat little patterns on the rock star's skin, battle wounds of the ugliest sort. The victim sobbed, throat raw from screaming, as he was destroyed from the inside out. Dirty fat sausages danced across the victim's skin, teasing and pulling, feeling and exploring. Sweat and other substances dripped from greedy lips, cracked and swollen folds that brutally assaulted the desert flower. Rotten teeth sunk into skin, drawing blood and sinews alike.

"Come on Boy, don't leave me hangin," a voice leered, gaining a pained sob in response.

After an eternity of pain, the intruder finished with his handiwork, and stood to inspect the bloody mess below him. Spit dribbled down a bloated chin, dropping onto the broken boy below.

"Get the fuck up, whore!"

No response, save from a raspy breath that shook out something along the lines of, "I can't."

This angered the violator. He picked up the skinny boy by the hair, jolting his neck up painfully.

"There, that wasn't so 'ard was it? Fuckin' hell, you're heavy. I should really stop pickin' up the FAT ones."

The victim was thrown roughly to the floor.

He wouldn't get up for several hours, by which time, his captor would have already left.