Famous Most Wanted

'Y'see . . . thing is, I'm thinking of going solo,' Johnny Carolina said as he took a long drag from his cigarette. The blonde woman sat opposite him with nothing but a silk bed sheet around her perked up.

'What?' she uttered with an unbelieving laugh. Johnny didn't respond. He just exhaled smoke into the air. The blonde couldn't tell where he was looking, not through his thick, face-covering sunglasses. 'Are you breaking up with me?' she questioned angrily.

The thin cream curtains that were drawn across the windows prevented as much light as a man with no eyelids. And with a hangover the size of Johnny's, he wished he'd invested in thicker curtains. On top of that he now had this screaming bimbo spilling her guts to him. Johnny just wasn't a relationship guy.

You only had to pick up the paper to know that. He couldn't understand why these girls got so hung up over him. It wasn't like he told them he loved them and then left them the next day. He never said the L word. Johnny was just a born heart breaker. And that's the way he liked it.

The blonde, with a foul expression and smudged make-up, picked up a black dress from the back of the armchair and a pair of heels before storming from the room. She slammed the door and Johnny winced at the sound.

He exhaled smoke into the empty room around him and glanced at a beautiful Gibson acoustic hanging on the wall opposite. That was his only love, he figured, the music. It was all these girls who were wrong. He was Johnny Carolina. He didn't need the love of a person. He was his own man and proud to be. Johnny glanced around him, looking for a good friend of his.

'Ah, there you are Jack,' Johnny mumbled as he reached across his bed for the large whiskey bottle on his bedside table. He guzzled back what little alcohol was left in the bottle and silently looked around his spacious bedroom. This was all he needed, he thought. Without a word, Johnny reached into his pocket and pulled out another cigarette.

***

Taylor Reynolds thought her desk may have cracked like a road in an earthquake when she heard the thud of more paperwork drop on to it. Surely her desk couldn't sustain all this weight?
She sighed and looked up at the Chief Inspector who had put the paperwork there.

'File these when you're done on your report, Detective,' said Chief Inspector Norris in a dull, monotonous voice before walking away to his office. Taylor sighed and looked with tired eyes at the daunting mountain of yet to be filed paperwork. She looked back at her report she was half way through. It was going to be a long night.

***

Johnny left his flat late, as usual, in an expensive leather biker jacket and some dark wash, ripped jeans. He had his trademark sunglasses on and a usual cigarette perched between his lips. Johnny climbed into his extravagant gunmetal grey Maserati and sped off, not totally sober, towards the venue he was meant to be playing at in half hour. He opened the automatic window and draped his arm out. He felt the cool rush of wind on his face. It was refreshing. He hated being stuck in his flat all day with a hangover, breathing the same old stale air.

It was quarter passed eight. It had been two hours since Johnny stopped drinking. He wanted a clear head for when he was on stage. He hated those prick singers who perform drunk and spit on their fans. The fans were important to him, though he'd admit his annoyance in them in any magazine interview.

He hated being chased and having to always make sure he had a pen on him and pushing on that smile that even he hated, pretending he had the greatest life in the world. Johnny would never admit his loneliness, not even to himself. He was Johnny Carolina, why the hell should he?

Johnny pulled into a parking space left unoccupied for him and stepped out of his car. He locked it up and threw his cigarette butt to the floor before entering through a fire exit around the back of the building.
The bouncers there didn't stop him. This was regular for a State-Side gig. He walked through numerous hallways before finding a door that had his band's poster on it. He'd played this venue before and knew his way around.

He walked into the room and was greeted by a manly cheer from his band mates. Johnny smiled smugly and took a bow. He shut the door and walked towards the sofas where the rest of the band were sat.

'Thank Christ for that,' sighed Kool-Kevin, State-Side's manager. Nicknamed due to his easy going attitude. Kevin was cool with anything the band did, as long as it was legal. Kevin figured it was why they hadn't fired him yet, though he liked to think it was because he had been with the boys since the beginning and they saw him as family.
Johnny dropped down on the sofa next to Zach Montana, the band's lead guitarist. He was fiddling away on his custom black Les Paul and nodded at Johnny, too in the zone to exchange words.

'You're early, Johnny,' noted Tommy Nevada, the drummer. 'What's the occasion?' Johnny shrugged, slipping his sunglasses off.

'No occasion. I just figure you guys are screwed without me.'

'We can do just fine without ya,' laughed Curtis York, bassist.
Johnny laughed, giving Curtis a sceptical look.

'We'll see,' shot back Johnny, thinking next concert he show up late to see how they really cope without him.
The dressing room door opened and a stage hand stuck their head round. 'On in five guys.'

The door shut and everyone looked towards Kool-Kevin. He raised his eyebrows before dropping them again. He loved how, even now, the guys still looked to him for instructions. They still respected him as their boss even though they could probably buy and sell his arse five times over.

'Show time,' Kool-Kevin grinned. Smiles seeped onto the faces of the four musicians sat in front of him and they stood up, picking up their guitars and drums sticks before fleeing for the door. Kool-Kevin followed after and shut the dressing room door behind him.

As the five of them walked towards the stage they passed the supporting act. A couple of young student-looking guys with long hair. Johnny tried not to cringe. He hated unwashed hair. He liked to be clean. The stage manager handed the band bottles of water and motioned for them to wait. People around them were communicating through hand gestures or shouting into each others ears.

The soprano scream of girls seemed to drown out the baritone hollers of the guys. The band prepared themselves and gave each other encouraging smiles. Johnny slung on his cherry red Gibson SG and slid it behind his back, headstock pointing towards the floor. The stage manager nodded at them and gave them a thumbs up, indicating they were ready when they were. The band huddled rugby style and Kool-Kevin shouted words of encouragement as loud as he could.

'Bring the place down!' The band broke apart and ran onto the stage. The venue exploded in an ear bursting squeal, piercing enough to make death itself shudder. The guys took their positions either side of the stage and Tommy positioned himself behind the drums. Johnny approached the microphone, opening his mouth to speak.

The crowd roared again and Johnny shut his mouth and grinned arrogantly at all the fans. He looked around all the faces. He tried to memorize as many as possible. He cared about his fans to a certain extent.
He didn't want to be known as a jerk who doesn't even give two turds about the kids who turn out to see them. Johnny shrugged to the audience and placed a hand around the neck of his SG. He swung his guitar around and the crowd seemed to get louder.

'Lets make history shall we?' Johnny said in a low, seductive voice, his London Accent sounding through the venue. The crowds roars were finally drowned out by a fast guitar riff, soon accompanied by the bass drum. Johnny opened his mouth and began to sing, hearing the lyrics being screamed back at him by two thousand strong.

In what seemed like mere minutes to everyone involved, State-Side had worked their way through all of their new album, Road Trip Across America. Then, after polishing off a few chosen classics from their first album, State-Side left the stage to a bigger cheer then what had greeted them.

A stage hand gave a clean white towel and a fresh bottle of water to each band member and they made their way back to the dressing room. They sat for a moment to relax before taking it in turns to shower. Today had been the last day of their UK tour, before they head off to the US in a week, and so an after party had been arranged for the band and everyone involved.

A big final send off before the guys disappear for months on end.
Johnny was especially looking forward to the after party. Any excuse to get wrecked. The only thing Johnny loved more than parties were parties that revolved around him.

Once all the band had showered and changed they got in their cars and headed to the newest and hottest club in London called Roof On Fire. The club was based on the roof of a top restaurant that claimed to be the hotspot for celebrities. Johnny was sure he could find someone to leave the party with. It wasn't his style to leave alone, and he made sure everyone knew it.

The drive to Roof On Fire was short. It was pretty much just around the corner from the venue the band played at. They all took the grand staircase up to the rooftop, cameras flashing as they did so. In the distance a healthy sized group of girls were walking towards the club, clearly following the band, hoping to meet them.
Johnny rolled his eyes, that was something he didn't like about fans. Some are bound to be stalkers. There are no days off for a rock star.

They reached the roof and looked around before looking at each other and smirking. The DJ was pumping dirty rock music with a bass frequency that was felt within the ribcage. State-Side disbanded into the crowd who greeted them full-heartedly as they saw them. Zach made a swift beeline for the buffet table. Tommy walked towards a row of modernized neon plastic sofas and began talking to various VIPs. Curtis scanned the club for the bar and walked away without a word when he found it. Johnny looked around and figured the bar was as good a place to start as any.

He made his way through the partying crowd. A few celebs, some drunk, some a little stoned, clapped Johnny on the back and said something incoherent.
He reached the bar and ordered a double JD. The barmaid smiled at him and fixed his drink.
His eyes wandered up and down and noticed the young barmaids excuse for an outfit. She wasn't wearing a lot. Johnny guessed her to be about 19 or 20. She handed him his drink and smiled wider when she caught Johnny Carolina, the Johnny Carolina eyeing her up. She licked her lips and leant on the bar in front of Johnny. His eyes darted up and met hers.

'You're Johnny Carolina aren't you?' she said, trying to sound seductive. She knew of his reputation, everyone did. Everything that attracts him, he has in bed. Johnny shrugged and smirked.

'Who wants to know?' he replied back smoothly, taking a sip of his drink. The barmaid smirked also. It must have been her lucky day.

'I'm Rose,' she said, watching Johnny knock back the rest of his drink. 'Can I get you another?'

'You can,' Johnny accepted. Rose turned her back again and reached for the JD bottle. Johnny couldn't help watch her as she did so. He was a dirty sod and he'd admit that in an instant. Rose handed Johnny the glass and as he took it he touched her hand. Rose smiled at him again before tending to someone else's order. It was a big one for a party of six. Johnny turned on the bar stool and looked around the club. He took a large sip from his drink and his eyes clashed with someone else's.

He chocked a little and wiped the whiskey from his chin. Glaring at him from across the club was Grace, the airhead blonde he broke up with only hours before. She rolled her eyes and walked towards the exit. Johnny watched her as he drank the remainder of his drink speedily and followed. Rose turned around after serving a drunk bald man only for her smile to fall from her face as she eyed the empty stool in front of her.
Grace marched quickly down the stairs in five inch heels and Johnny ran after her, catching her elbow and turning her around.

'Hey, Grace, will you stop already?' Grace tugged her arm back and glared harder at Johnny.

'What do you want, heart breaker?' She folded her arms in an unimpressed manner.
Johnny sighed. 'Look, sorry I ended it. But you must read the papers. You know what I'm like.'

'Oh, I didn't know “I'm Johnny Carolina” was a suitable excuse. I'll have to try that one next time.' Grace turned back around and continued down the stairs. Johnny followed and stood in her path.

'Oh don't be like that,' he whined.
Grace groaned. 'Get out my way! You must be the biggest jerk I've ever met!' Johnny shifted his weight to his left leg and folded his arms.

'You don't mean that,' he said smoothly. 'I'm a good guy. You know I am.' Grace shook her head, unbelieving that one man could be so self obsessed.

'Good? there's nothing redeeming about you, Johnny. The best part of you ran down your mother's leg.' Grace stepped past Johnny and continued down onto the street. Johnny shook his head. He loved a challenge and he wasn't ready to give in. He ran after her and called her name. Grace groaned out loud and turned to face Johnny.

'Hey, why don't we forget this happened and go back to mine,' he suggested with a smile.
Grace sighed. 'Johnny, you leave me no choice.' He frowned at Grace.

'What're you talking about?' Grace drew in a big breath.

'OH MY GOD! IT'S JOHNNY CAROLINA' she screamed as loud as she could. Johnny's face fell and he span around. A group of fan girls stood waiting outside the club went silent and looked up. Johnny glared back at Grace as she looked over his shoulder pretending to be surprised.

'Oh, you best get back upstairs before they swarm you, Johnny,' Grace grinned smugly at Johnny who, still glaring at Grace, backed away before breaking into a sprint for the stairs to Roof On Fire. That meant running straight towards them. The fan girls screamed in delight but chorused a disappointed 'ooohh' when Johnny reached the stairs and ran up.

He walked the rest of the way up the stairs and then to the bar, feeling defeated for the first time. Nobody rejected him. Nobody. Johnny sat at the bar, noticing Rose from earlier wasn't behind it any more. He sighed and looked up to the typically British overcast night sky. It just wasn't his night.
Curtis noticed Johnny's despaired look and joined him at the bar. They both ordered beers and sat watching the VIPs mingle amongst other VIPs.

'Cheer up' Curtis encouraged. 'It might never happen.' Johnny sipped his beer.

'Grace just rejected me.'

'Ohh, well it definitely wont happen now,' Curtis laughed, trying to make light of the situation.

'She wont give me another shot,' Johnny groaned, annoyed at himself for caring.

'Of course she wont,' Curtis agreed. 'You're a crotch stain on the underpants of society.' Johnny frowned at Curtis who merely shrugged before taking a sip of his beer. He never was good at comforting people, Johnny remembered. Johnny got up, leaving his beer. He started to walk away.

'Hey, where you going?' Curtis called over the pumping music, now playing a dance track.

'Home,' Johnny called back.

'What about your beer?' Curtis frowned, pointing to the not even half drunk beverage. It wasn't like Johnny to buy a drink and then leave it.

'You have it. I'm driving.' Indeed he was, despite being over the legal limit anyway. But when has that ever stopped him in the past?
He was Johnny Carolina, crotch stain. And he doesn't play by the rules.