I've loved reading everyone else's AU fics. (I know what that means now, thanks to ButtonsMagoo) so I thought I'd give it a go!! Hope you like it!
Dedicate to swisstony for all her lovely reviews and stories (which are never rubbish although she continues to insist that they are)!
D/C: Definitely not mine! - still :(
Cheekbone Talks to 'Vince Noir'; Rock and Roll Superstar.
Dresses like the rolling stones, owns the stage like Freddy Mercury, sings like a male Whitney - is this the best musician ever? Possibly.
Socialite and playboy, Vince Noir, has been given yet more rave reviews by those bigwigs in the music industry for his recent performance at Wembley Stadium. But when we interview him we explore what you really want to know and delve straight in to his personal life. Including the girl of his dreams: (something many girls wish to be)
So Vince, you're young, rich, handsome, the girls love you. What we want to know is, is there a special lady in your life?
V: There are lots of special ladies in my life. I couldn't possibly concentrate on just one. Where's the fun in that?
Are you suggesting that you'll never settle down?
V: I'm happy the way things are, but my motto is 'never say never'. I'm sure the right girl is out there somewhere.
But what is the right girl? What type of girl would make the seemingly untameable Vince Noir settle down?
V: (laughs) She'd have to be pretty special. I like my girls fiery and unpredictable. Unique and up for a laugh and maybe more than a bit, erm… forgiving, you know, should I get… um, lets call it, tempted. But I'm not saying I don't like the quiet girls. There's something to be said for the wall flower sometimes.
And what about music? What are you planning to do next?
V: Well, I'm doing the music festival in Leeds next week. I'm headlining that, obviously. And after that? MTV awards, I think. Maybe headline Glastonbury, or Reading. And possibly a world tour. Who knows? I'm one of the best musicians ever! I suppose there's no stopping me. Hell, I think it's safe to say… I'm bigger than Jesus.
"Hello, Mr Moon. It's Laura Blackwood here, I'm in charge of finding acts for the Leeds festival tomorrow and the company funding the festival have got it into their heads that we should have some local acts. Don't ask me why? I've told them it'll ruin it, but would they listen. No, of course not. We're going to have to set up a tent just for the local rubbish that we've found but…"
"Sorry, is this going anywhere?" asked Howard irritably.
"Yes, sorry. Basically, would you be interesting in being part of the Leeds festival tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow!? That's a bit soon isn't it?""You live in Leeds, what's the problem? Anyway, if you don't want the gig, that's fine by me. I can get some proper musicians in."
"No! It's okay. I'll do it." gabbled Howard quickly. He didn't care how futile the gig was. Or how embarrassingly rubbish the set up was going to be. Things weren't going well for the man with a plaque from the mayor of Leeds and God knew, he needed the money. Any money.
They say an true artist would rather starve for his art than give up and go into a boring 9-5 job. But Howard was close to needing an out. He was sick of living in his hovel of a flat with no water, gas or electricity. Sitting on a hard wooden floor, sleeping under a thin blanket, eating cold food. He could pack up his worldly possessions in a small suitcase and the most important thing in his life was his saxophone. He was sick of relying on his sister and his friends for money.
"You really going to do it?" asked the woman, down the receiver sounding disappointed.
"Yes, yes please."
"Fine." came the huffy response."I'll see you tomorrow."
"Hey, who was that?" asked Alice, setting down two mugs of tea on the cardboard box, which Howard used as a table.
"Some woman named Laura. I've got a gig tomorrow." he said flatly.
"That's brilliant!" beamed Alice then, noticing Howard's unenthusiastic expression, she added "That is good, isn't it?"
"You don't look very happy about it."
"Well, it's just going to be another crap job, for crap pay, in my crap life."
"Oh cheer up." scorned Alice "At least you're doing what you love."
"Hmm. But I keep thinking it's not worth it. I hate the fact I can't afford the rent on this place."
"Are you behind again?"
Howard looked at his sister and thought about lying, but what was the point? So, he just nodded silently.
"How much d'you need?" she asked brightly, pulling out her purse.
"Put your money away."
"Howard." she sighed, "Stop being so stubborn, let me help you."
"No, you're my baby sister. If anything, I should be helping you."
"Look." she smiled, handing him a few notes. "You can just pay me back when your rich and famous."
"We both know that's never going to happen." he replied bitterly. "It was a stupid childhood dream. But I think it might be time to grow up. I'm not a child anymore. I'm getting too old to keep chasing dreams."
"Oh stop being so pessimistic." groaned Alice. "It's not all bad."
"Stop trying to cheer me up." snapped Howard.
"Well if I don't your just going to sit here being miserable. You should get out, go to the pub or something."
"I don't want to go out."
"What about the park? Or the restaurant? Museum you like the museum, or maybe…"
"SHUT UP!" yelled Howard, throwing his mug against the wall so that it shattered leaving a brown tea stain on the white-wash walls. Alice jumped but stayed silent, waiting for Howard to calm down. Eventually, his fists unclenched and the vein in his neck stopped throbbing but he still refused to turn round, opting instead to stare at the newly created stain on his wall.
"You know what?" Alice snarled, her words threatened by tears "I had so much respect for you when you refused to go into the family law firm. You stood there in front of our parents and told them you were going follow your dreams. Our whole family told you not to. They turned their backs on you, but you did it anyway and I stood by you because I believed in you. You believed in you. But now? Now, you're just a washed up loser… and I've go no respect for you at all." Howard heard the ruffle of material as she stood up, he heard the click of her heals as she stormed across the wooden floor and he heard the bang of the front door as she slammed it behind her.
He didn't need her. He'd manage without her continued support. It would be just him and his saxophone. Everyone else had always hated him. What difference did it make if his sister hated him too?