Famous Most Wanted

'Welcome back to The Morning Show. We have with us still Grace Chapman, partner of missing rock icon, Johnny Carolina. So as we were discussing before the break, you haven't seen nor heard from Johnny in three weeks, it is now, I believe?'
Grace nodded and looked sad.

'Yeah, three weeks. It's been unbearable.'

'Do have much contact with Johnny's family or band?' asked the presenter. Grace shook her head.

'They've shut me out. They make me feel awkward asking.'

'But you shouldn't feel awkward about asking if they've heard from him. He is your boyfriend after all.'

'True. But it's just become so difficult to-'

'Turn that shit off!' Ordered Kool-Kevin as he shut the rehearsal studio door behind him. Zach sighed and reached up, turning the TV off.

'What you doing watching that anyway?' he asked.

'I wanna know what she's saying about us,' Zach shrugged.

'We already know it ain't going to be anything nice. The bitch is trying to bring us down. She wants to turn the public against us so they'll drive Johnny into her arms rather than ours.'
Zach put his head in his hands.

'We're going to lose fans if she doesn't stop.'
Kevin laughed.

'Don't talk out your arse. You seriously think your die hard fans, the kids who have been with you since the beginning are going to chose her over you? Sure,' Kevin shrugged. 'you might lose a few who only jumped on the bandwagon when you guys released Road Trip, but you certainly wont lose your true fans. Honestly Zach. These people adore you. You need more faith in your following.'

'Maybe you're right,' nodded Zach. 'But what are we going to do about Grace?'

'What did I tell you before?' tested Kev.

'Stay away from the blog,' sighed Zach with a nod. 'I get it.'

***

Keeping Johnny hidden from the world was no easy task, especially considering he didn't want to change his appearance.
That time had come round again, and Taylor was dreading it. It was time for Johnny to dye his hair.

She knocked on his bedroom door, which was shut, and stepped in after he told her to. Taylor placed the box of black hair dye (she'd given up calling it dark brown) on the dresser by the door and folded her arms. Johnny looked up from The Shining, which he nearly had finished now, and noticed the box.
The war began.

There was a lot of shouting, pointed fingers, shoving, pulling, pushing and, finally, door slamming. Taylor eventually relaxed onto her bed, knowing Johnny was in the bathroom, dying over his blonde roots.

It wasn't that Taylor didn't like him blonde. Blonde suited him, naturally. But he had to be a different person, and black hair wasn't Johnny Carolina. And apparently it went against everything he believed in, whatever that was. The Bathroom was next door to Taylor's bedroom. She could hear him moving about, muttering darkly to himself. It made her smile. He was so damn stubborn, but Taylor always won in the end.

To pass time, Taylor read. There wasn't really a lot else they could do to pass time in the Welsh mountain side cottage three miles from civilisation in every direction. She was sure Johnny could think of a few things to pass time, but Taylor didn't like the way Johnny thought at the best of times.

After an hour or so, with Johnny still locked in the bathroom, Taylor decided to investigate if Johnny was actually dying his hair . . . or whether Johnny was still in the bathroom at all.
This thought unnerved Taylor so she hurried to her door, not noticing the sound of the bathroom door opening and Johnny flicking the light off. Taylor pulled open her door and stepped right into Johnny's path back to his own room. She stumbled but he caught her. A smirk graced his lips.

'Well, if you wanted me, all you had to do was say, babe. No need to throw yourself at me.' Taylor pushed herself out of Johnny's arms and stepped back into her room. Johnny stood in the doorway, leaning against the door frame. Taylor rolled her eyes at his, once again, bare chest. He had a light blue towel draped over his shoulder. His red kiss tattoo was just visible, peeking out behind it.

'Why are you incapable of wearing clothes, Johnny?' Taylor sighed. Johnny Rolled his eyes skywards as he pretended to think and took a step forward.

'Hmm,' he mused, eyes snapping back to Taylor's. He took the towel from over his shoulder and held either, slightly damp, end in either hand. 'Maybe it's because you make me so hot,' he smirked, looping the towel over Taylor's head and capturing her at the waist like a fish in a net. He reeling her forward. The damp towel around her waist felt warm and wrong as it tugged her forward into Johnny. She threw her hands up instinctively and defensively and they crashed into Johnny's chest.

Sparks shot through all her nerve endings. She'd seen his chest before. But never had she touched it. She pushed against him but that only made him smirk wider and pull the towel further towards him.

'Johnny!' Taylor snapped, eyes glaring up at him. His freshly black hair was wet and looked darker than ever. It stuck in rat's tails to his neck and face. 'Don't be so childish.' Still he didn't let go of the towel that held her to him.

'Why deny this, Tex? You know it's gonna happen. And you know it'll be magic.' Their bodies were almost pressed to one another's now. Taylor, her hands still on Johnny's chest, pushed harder to escape him.

'Johnny, let go of me! This is harassment!'

'But you wannit, Tex.'

'No!' she shouted. 'God, Johnny. Why are you so difficult? You said you were going to stop this, remember? We agreed last night.'

'Again,' Johnny shrugged. 'I lied.'
Taylor glared up at Johnny and turned around. Again the towel snagged and her back hit Johnny's chest.

'Get off,' she hissed, tugging at the towel across her hips. Taylor felt wet drips roll down her bare arms as Johnny leant over her shoulder. She felt his face against her hair and froze. His nose brushed ever so lightly against her ear and she felt his warm breath dance across her jaw line.

She shut her eyes and tried desperately to keep her breathing even. His nose grazed her cheek, his touch so soft and delicate. Taylor, still holding on to the towel at her waist, felt large warm hands cover hers. She didn't seem to realise that those were the same hands that had once trapped her there. She didn't notice that the towel was hanging limply in her own hands alone and all she had to do to escape would be to simply walk away.

But rational thought didn't seem to exist. Not when Johnny Carolina held you to his chest. His lips touched her neck and Taylor released a light sigh of pleasure.

'I know you want this,' Johnny whispered in her ear, lips touching it. Goosebumps raised over her skin. 'But you're the boss.' And then the warm hands over hers disappeared, and the lips at her ear disappeared, and the strong, hot and slightly wet pressure at her back disappeared.

Suddenly she was cold all over. Taylor glanced over her shoulder sheepishly and saw the doorway empty. She shut her door quietly and sat tensely on the very edge of her bed, her head in her hands.
What was he doing to her?

***

Taylor hadn't left her room since her annoying and confusing encounter with Johnny. She wasn't being stubborn, she just had no reason to leave her room. And after lying down on her bed, trying to calm herself, she'd slipped asleep.
When she finally awoke several hours later, she felt better. She felt she had a clear head again and could function enough to start dinner.

She stepped out her room and glanced down the hall. Johnny's door was open. He must have been downstairs. Taylor tucked her fists shyly into her sleeves and lowered her eyes. She didn't want to make awkward eye contact. She knew he'd be smug. He wouldn't need to say anything. No “I told you so”. He'd just get that glint in his eyes and smirk and that would be all and it would still be excruciating.

Taylor wasn't even off the staircase before she noticed that Johnny was in neither the living room nor the kitchen. Her jaw fell and she just stared around the living room and into the open plan kitchen.

'Johnny?' she asked nervously. Was he hiding or something daft? 'Johnny?' Taylor tried again a little more desperately. She ran into the kitchen, not sure what to do. He was gone. She'd lost him.

Taylor grabbed the door keys and ran to the front door. It was unlocked.
Run away? Had he run away?
She put the keys down and opened the front door. Immediately, the soft, sweet sound of a two thousand pound guitar met her ears. A sigh of relief rattled through Taylor and she shut the door again. Why disturb him for awkward conversation?
Taylor began making dinner. She'd call him in when it was done.

Tonight Taylor was trying her luck with a couple of pizzas. Johnny insisted she buy some. One was a regular margarita. The other was a meat feast. She set the table as they cooked. They smelt good and smelt even better when she pulled them out the oven and cut them with a pizza slicer. Taylor put both pizzas on mismatching plates and set them on the table. Now only one thing was missing.

Taylor opened the front door. She heard silence this time and a brief wave of panic washed over her. It was getting dark out. Taylor stepped outside, the gravel crunching under her feet. She looked around in the half light but couldn't see him. Taylor Folded her arms tight to herself for warmth and began around the house.

On the grassy hill at the side of the house that began a steep walk up the mountain, sat one rock star. She watched him a moment. He had a burning cigarette in his left hand. His Guitar was perched against his thighs and it was upside down. He was using the back as a table where a few pieces of paper sat. He was scribbling away on them, straining his eyes to see in the poor light.

'What're you doing?' called Taylor. Johnny jumped, clearly concentrating hard on his scribbles. He sighed and shrugged.

'Trying to write a song,' he answered. Taylor was thrilled he was finally using his time here productively. But she was still mad at him from earlier, so she wasn't going to share this with him. Instead she simply nodded once.

'Dinner's ready.' And she went back inside without another word to him.