Famous Most Wanted

Unusually, but thankfully, Johnny was behaving himself. Several days passed and he had yet to try anything with Taylor. He wasn't even flirting. No suggestive smirk or raise of the eyebrows. It made Taylor suspicious, despite her relief. It made her paranoid. Like he was planning something. Was she going to climb into bed one night and find him in it? Was he waiting for her to get in the shower so he could steal her clothes and all the towels? Taylor had only once done the frantic naked run from shower to bedroom, and thankfully that time she hadn't been spotted.

Johnny had to be up to something, surely? He was Johnny Carolina, after all. He couldn't go five minutes without making a vulgar comment. Taylor was incredibly surprised Johnny had lasted almost a month without sex. She was always pretty sure he had a different girl in his bed every night. How on earth did Grace manage to keep Johnny reined in for a month? The woman is magnificent. But even the best of us fall. And by the looks of her interview with Eden Edition, she'd fallen hard . . . for Johnny.

'Johnny?' Taylor asked. They were sat next to each other, looking over the woodland scene puzzle that was still incomplete.

'Mmm?' he grunted, concentrating hard on building the oak tree.

'. . . So what exactly is the deal with Grace?' she said eventually, refusing to look up from the puzzle. Johnny sifted through some pieces that were either tree or fallen log. He shrugged.

'We dated for a month. She seemed to think she was in love with me but she was only in love with the idea of me.'

'The rock and roll lifestyle?' Taylor guessed. Johnny shook his head.

'Not even that. She hated it. She moaned like fuck when she saw me drinking or smoking or flirting with groupies. She liked the idea of being a rockstar's girlfriend. She wanted a fixer-upper and I'm the biggest fixer-upper around.' Taylor finally looked up from the puzzle and watched Johnny who's eyes were still on the puzzle. 'These groupie birds like to think they can fix me. They want to tame the beast. They all wanna claim to the papers that “I'm the reason Johnny cleaned up his act.” But it ain't an act and I ain't changing just so these daft bints can feel like they've had any effect on my life what so ever.'

He seemed bitter about the whole thing, Taylor noticed. Maybe he just wanted a girl who didn't want to spend his money and change his personality? She could see how it would be hard for someone like Johnny to find true love.

'Have any of them gotten close?' she asked. It was a vague question but he understood and shook his head. He kept his eyes on the puzzle.

'I haven't loved any of them, so I'd never let them change me. And Grace?' he spat. 'Don't get me started on her. Think I actually hate the little tart after that interview. She may as well have taken a shit, painted it gold and then sold it. Dress it up how you like but it's still a load of shit.' Taylor nodded and they fell silent.

Johnny slowly built up a small section of tree and shrugged. 'I guess it would be nice to find someone who liked me for me, y'know? Warts an'all. Not that I have warts to be liked,' he smirked. Taylor looked up at him and smiled somewhat awkwardly before looking back down at the puzzle. She wasn't sure why she felt awkward. Maybe it was because she was the one who, deep down, liked Johnny for him, “warts an'all”.

'That's all any of us want, Johnny,' she told him. 'See? You're not so far away from being human after all.' Johnny smiled a real smile at her for once and Taylor was reminded at how well it suited him. She didn't often see that sincere and vulnerable side to him and she wondered if anyone else did.

***

The Weekly Word
02/05/11



'Mr McKell?' Kool-Kevin looked up at the receptionist. 'Mr Rush will see you now.' Kevin stood nervously and entered the top floor office at Rush Records tower in central London. Jeremy Rush, the owner, the big boss man, never attended meeting personally and he called for them even less. This had to be bad, Kevin realised. He'd only ever met Jeremy Rush once, and the boys never had.

Jeremy sent out his PR guys or A&R guys or his PA's or generally all of the above.
He never dealt with the acts personally. Normally just the manager when it came to signing contracts or renewing those contracts.

Jeremy was sat behind his far-too-big, dark wood desk and indicated for Kevin to sit. He did so. Jeremy looked like a take no prisoners kinda guy. Kevin half expected Rush to have a couple of heavies waiting in the wings, ready to beat him up for losing the star of the century.

'So what's this I hear about Carolina in Mexico City?' He was pouring them both a drink and so didn't look at Kevin as he waited for an answer.

'They're just rumours,' he assured Jeremy. 'I looked at the photo long and hard and that wasn't Johnny.'

'How are you sure of this, that photo was pretty blurry?' Jeremy asked calmly still, handing Kevin a frosted whisky glass. Jeremy's calm unnerved him.

'Johnny has a tattoo on his chest. The guy in the picture didn't. I'll admit, he did look like Johnny, but I assure you, Mr Rush, it wasn't Johnny.' Jeremy sipped at his whiskey a silent moment, his eyes watching Kevin.
Kool-Kevin averted his eyes nervously and sipped from his own glass.

'So there's no possibility that Johnny could have that tattoo removed?' he asked, still an unnerving epitome of calm. Kevin merely frowned.

'Why would Johnny remove it?'
Jeremy shrugged.

'You tell me. What reason would Johnny have to run away?'

'He hasn't run away,' objected Kevin.

'He better not have. Look, Kevin. It's no secret that Johnny earns us big money around here. Easy money. And nothing makes me happier than seeing Johnny stagger across the stage in his tightest jeans. I'm very sympathetic about the whole shitty situation, but if I find out you know where he is or if you've helped him leave, I will make damn sure you never work in the industry again, Kevin. Am I clear?'

'Crystal,' gulped Kevin.

'Good,' smiled Jeremy, flashing his best shit-eater grin. 'Goodbye Kevin.' A subtle hint to leave.
Kevin nodded in return and hurried from the office, followed by Rush Records Tower. And he didn't look back once.

As Kool-Kevin drove away from Rush Records, he considered everything Jeremy Rush had said to him, and hated himself for it. But what if he was right?
What if Johnny really had run away? What if that cop was right and Johnny didn't want to be found?
“you're dead” was across his mirror, after all. Had someone threatened Johnny, forcing him to pack his bags and run in terror? Where would he go?

Most likely Vegas to drink and gamble all his troubles away, Kevin thought. But he was also aware that their fans out in Nevada knew of Johnny's favourite holiday destination and were probably going through the streets of Vegas with a fine tooth comb, most likely starting with Planet Hollywood.

Kevin knew the chances of Johnny being drunk somewhere in Vegas were pretty slim, but at least Kevin knew he wasn't on drugs. Johnny wasn't due another relapse until next year. He worked like clockwork and so did his drug addiction. Two years clean then off the wagon. Two years clean then off the wagon. Why would next year be any different?

Kool-Kevin parked outside Johnny's flat and stared up at the windows that he knew were his. He half expected to see Johnny stagger past them, some tart on his tail, but he didn't. The flat was empty of Johnny and had been for over a month now. It looked dark and cold through the windows and Kevin could just about sneek a peek of damage to one of the light fittings.

Why would someone want to hurt Johnny like that? Why would they want to destroy him the way they destroyed those light fittings, or slashed his leather sofa or kicked holes in his doors?

Johnny was harmless enough, albeit a total drunk. But a fairly harmless drunk at that. He rarely caused pub brawls. Maybe when he was younger, back when the band first kicked off and the whole world adored him.
Hell, the world still adored him and the world missed him.

Kevin glanced at the steps to Johnny's flat and sighed. On every step up, and tied to every visible section of hand rail, were flowers, band posters, memorabilia, photos of fans and messages they wrote to him. It felt like he was dead for a brief moment and Kevin shuddered as a cold chill danced down his spine at the thought.
Kevin got out the car and locked it as he crossed the street. He ignored the watchful eye of the pair of police offices in a patrol car opposite, no doubt watching to see if Johnny came back, or whoever destroyed his home.

Kevin crouched and picked up a folded piece of pink card. Inside was a picture of a girl around fifteen with a State-Side T-shirt on. One from the first tour, Kevin remembered. This girl was a die hard. He read her message.

Dear Johnny, You'll probably never read this but please come back. We all miss you and everyone at school is saying you're dead. I tell them to shut up. Please come back Johnny. You're more than just a hero to us, You're a god. Josie. Xx

Kevin put it down and picked up another.

Dear Johnny. We miss you so much. We saw your last show in the UK and then waited outside Roof On Fire for an hour just to see you. You left early. I guess you were having a bad day. Grace said you had a fight. We hope you come home very soon. We can't imagine not going to your concerts again.
Love you always, Kimberly and Errol. xx

We miss you. We miss you. We love you. We love you. We miss you. We miss you. We love you. We love you. We miss you. We miss you. We love you. We love you. We miss you. We miss you. We love you. We love you.
Carol and Sophie xxxx

We bought tickets to see you in Florida. We went anyway as we already had the plane tickets, but we couldn't enjoy our holiday knowing so little about your well being. The fans in America were in despair. They were just beside themselves with grief. They waited so long to see you guys play and instead they're hit with the dreadful news of your disappearance. We got back from Florida a week ago. We wish you a very safe return Johnny.
Flo & James Xx

The letter was dated two weeks ago. Kevin scanned through the rest of the letters. They were all the same. Desperate attempts at bringing Johnny back. The last hope they had. The very last hope.

Kevin reached out and picked up a purple envelope. On the front read JC. Kevin opened it and slid out the letter. This one also contained a picture of the fan. The little girl, with cute curly hair, looked no more than five.
Really? Kevin thought. And her parents let her listen to State-Side?
Kevin read the childlike scrawl with care.

Dear Mr Johnny. I'm riting you a letter and Mum and daddy sed they will giv it to you. I hope you get it. I'm number one fan of your band and I want to be like you wen I grow up. I'm getting gitar lessuns soon so I can play songs like you. I'm not big enuff to go your consut, but mum and daddy sed they wood take me wen you come home, so come home kwick so I can come see.
Peeple say mean things about you and say your ded and it makes me cry. Mum and daddy say I will find new rock star but they are rong. I want you to come back so peeple will stop saying bad stuff about you. I don't like it and I don't like vat no one knows where you are. Where are you? Did somefing scare you and you ran away? I hope you get vis. I hope you are ok.
Milly. x

Kool-Kevin put the letter and photo back in the purple envelope and set it down in a safe place amongst the flowers.

'You don't know how right you are, Milly,' sighed Kevin as he stood and walked back to his car, head lowered with sad realisation.