Famous Most Wanted

Taylor sat on the floor, back against the sofa as she watched the fire burn.
She couldn't remember the last time she felt so relaxed, so at ease. There was something about that place, and being there with Johnny, of course, that made her warm inside, despite the chilling nights.

'Cold night,' noted Johnny as he eased himself down next to her, heaving a sigh.

'Mmm,' agreed Taylor. Johnny watched her a moment, wondering whether she was cold. Should he get a blanket? Should he put more wood on the fire? He wasn't sure why these questions popped into his head, but he toyed with the idea of it being his desire to look after her the way she had him.

Johnny mentally answered yes to both his questions and stood to chuck more wood on the fire in front of them. He returned and pulled the fleece blanket from the back of the sofa as he sat down again. He opened it up and flung it across both their laps. Taylor looked startled but snuggled under the blanket nonetheless. She smiled warmly at Johnny in thanks and he huddled into it himself.

'This is nice,' Taylor said, watching the fire again. Johnny thought about it.

'Yeah, it is actually.' He seemed a little confused. This wasn't normally his scene. He got his kicks going out, getting hammered, pulling a couple of groupies and then not remembering it the next day. The less you remember, the better the night, he always said.
But this?

Johnny had never 'snuggled' in his life, yet he was enjoying it. Johnny smiled to himself. Next he'd be spooning. He chuckled at the bizarre thought and Taylor glanced at him.

'What?' she smiled. Johnny shook his head, looking back at her.

'Nothing, just surprised I'm actually enjoying an evening that doesn't involve booze and babes.' Taylor rolled her eyes and looked back at the fire.

'I don't know how you do it sometimes,' she admitted. 'Your lifestyle is just so manic. Aren't you always running on empty? How do you work through the day and party through the night?'

'It ain't work to me,' grinned Johnny.

'It's so nice that you love your job,' nodded Taylor. 'You're really lucky.' She looked down into her lap and smiled. 'I remember seeing you in the magazines when you first got famous. They said you were the next big thing. Called you a young Rod Stewart. Y'know, when he was a rocker rather than a crooner?' Johnny laughed.

'Yeah, they all had such high exceptions of me back then.'

'And you surpassed them all. Look who you are now. The most famous man in the world.' Johnny watched the fire and sniffed.

'I've worked so fucking hard to get where I am.' He looked back at Taylor. 'I was 18. A kid. Can you imagine that kind of pressure? To be a kid that nobody knows having people tell you you need to be bigger than Rod Stewart or you'll be a disappointment?' he shook his head, eyes rolling back to the fire. 'It's bullshit. I've had that pressure ever since. Still do.'

'But you made it Johnny, who would possibly pressure you now?' Taylor scoffed. Johnny shrugged.

'I guess, I'm my own worst enemy.' Taylor frowned.

'You? You put pressure on yourself?' Johnny frowned as he watched the flames lick at the wood. He didn't answer. 'Why?' Taylor asked then. Johnny shrugged again.

'Don't get me wrong,' Johnny began. 'I'm the dogs bollocks. But there's always that part of me that will never think I'm good enough, and that part that hates what I've become.'

'And what's that exactly?' Taylor wondered in bewilderment.

'My wanky father, that's what. And now with the whole baby thing, I feel even more like the twat.' Johnny shook his head in frustration as his eyes snapped back to Taylor. 'You don't understand my conflict. I'm everything I want to be but at the same time everything I don't wanna be.'

'So you're a walking contradiction,' shrugged Taylor. Johnny smiled. Taylor licked her lips and built up the courage to ask the question that had been bugging her from the start.

'Johnny?' she began carefully. 'If you don't mind me asking . . . who is your father?' He heaved a sigh.

'I've never told anyone this.'

'Not even your band?' wondered Taylor with a frown.

'Not even my manger,' nodded Johnny.

'Why?'

'Cause it would all go to pot if the world knew who my dad is.'

'Is he famous?' asked Taylor, not realising she was shifting closer to him. Johnny noticed. He nodded.

'Yeah. He's famous alright.'

'Johnny just tell me what your name is,' sighed Taylor. He frowned down into his lap.

'You'll never think of me in the same way,' he grumbled.

'Don't be ridiculous.' laughed Taylor. 'What's your real name?' He lifted his eyes and captured Taylor's.

'It's Staggon. I'm Johnny Staggon.' Taylor's eyes widened and Johnny still held them.

'Staggon?' Taylor repeated breathlessly. 'As in Frank Staggon? Frank Staggon the rock legend?' Johnny looked back at the fire and nodded.

'Now do you see why I don't want people knowing my real name?'
'No, I don't,' Taylor admitted with a frown. 'Why wouldn't you want people to know your dad is a mega rock god? I mean, the guy is on par with Ozzy. My dad was a huge Switchblade fan back in the 80's. And all this time your the lead singer's son.'

'I told you you wouldn't think of me in the same way,' mumbled Johnny moodily, folding his arms on top of his knees.

'What are you talking about?'

'Cause automatically I stop being an icon of my own right and I become son of icon. I've gotten where I am today on my own merits. Frank doesn't even know I'm his son. And I don't want him to know. If people knew the truth, they'd start saying that Frank's the only reason I got famous. They'd say he'd probably paid for it or something. But I worked like a fucking dog just like he did. I'm not a cheater. I don't want my fans to think less of me because of that waster,' Johnny moaned. 'I don't wanna be compared to him and his legacy. I want to be known for my own music. I created this for myself and I don't want him taking credit. He's never been in my life, why should I let anybody think he has been?' Taylor smiled softly and put a hand on Johnny's arm. His eyes lifted to hers.

'You're just full of secrets, you.' Johnny blinked as he continued to stare at her. 'You're Johnny Carolina,' Taylor said, as if that explained everything. 'What took your father thirty years to achieve, you've achieved in five. You're already a rock legend. You'll be in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame one day. You're only not there now because your career is just beginning. You have so many decades left to prove yourself wrong. You're already the biggest band in the world. Imagine where you'll be in ten years time. Johnny,' Taylor sighed, lifting his lowered face to look at her. 'You haven't got a thing to worry about. You've already done it. You're Johnny Carolina, for Christ sakes. Don't forget that.'

They watched each other a moment. He wanted to kiss her. She wanted to kiss him back. Neither got what they wanted.
Johnny sighed and wrapped an arm around Taylor, pulling her up against him. She let him and leant her head on his shoulder.

'You're something else, y'know that?' he said in her ear.

'I know,' she smiled. 'So tell me about it. How could Frank possibly not know that you're his son?' Johnny shrugged, allowing his thumb to idly trace circles against Taylor's bare arm. He stared into the fire.

'Fucker married mum 24 years ago.'

'He actually married your mum?' Taylor repeated. She felt comfortable enough around Johnny to snuggle against his chest and his arm around her shoulders tightened slightly.

'Yeah, It's how we've got his name. They had a cheap, little, secret, drunken wedding and then he divorced her a week later when she told him she was pregnant. Mum was just a groupie he got up the duff . . . bit like me with Grace. I was a mistake the same way my kid's a mistake. Only, I refuse to be like him so now I'm stuck with Grace for the rest of my life.'

'Will you marry her?' asked Taylor quietly, ignoring the cold sensation running through her.

'Fuck no,' Johnny scoffed. Taylor relaxed a little. 'But I ain't gonna shut her and the kid outta my life. I can't do that. All I can do is hope that if I'm actually around for the kid, it won't turn out like me.'

'Why don't you want it to be like you?' Taylor pried.

'Cause the world don't need another fucked up Staggon,' Johnny half smiled. Taylor didn't respond directly to that. She didn't need to. The whole world knew of Frank Staggon's battle with drugs.

Back in 86 he was sent to rehab by his manager concerning an ongoing heroin addiction. In 91 he was sent back due to his new found cocaine addiction. 4 years clean and then both addictions came back with a vengeance. Six months away at rehab seemed to tackle the bigger problems, but not his nicotine, alcohol and sex addictions. In 2001 it became apparent that Frank Staggon was now addicted to Epinephrine, or better known as Adrenaline. It was then that he and his band, Switchblade, kicked off a new world tour, and each night Frank would get his fix. 10 years later, Frank Staggon is still an adrenaline junkie, living everyday life chaotically and hectically.

'Have you ever suffered from addiction?' Taylor asked gently, indicating something stronger than weed. Johnny nodded.

'Been rehab twice,' he admitted. Somehow this didn't surprise Taylor, but strangely, she found she didn't care. She didn't care that he'd broken the law twice or that she was cuddled up to a ex-drug addict, and she wasn't sure why.

'What were you on?'

'Same as dad.' He chuckled bitterly. 'Like father like son eh?'

'So why do you do it if you don't want to be like him?' she questioned.

'It's genetic. Plus I suppose my lifestyle doesn't help. I battle it quite well for two years and then it just comes back. Kev anticipates it. He thinks I'll do it next year.' Johnny looked back at Taylor. 'I can't help it. I relapse every two years and there's nothing I can do about it. It just happens.'

'It's okay,' Taylor soothed. Johnny sighed and curled his free arm around her waist. Again, she let him. 'It's okay,' she repeated. 'You don't have to worry about any of that out here. It's just us.'

'Just us,' Johnny whispered in return. They fell silent. The only sound was that of the crackling fire. It's light danced across the carpet and their faces. It cast soft shadows in all corners and suddenly the night didn't feel so cold.

'I wish we could stay here,' muttered Johnny. Taylor didn't respond. He looked down at her. The fire light cast a warm glow on her peaceful, sleeping face.
Johnny ran his thumb over her cheek and stoked back her brunette hair. 'I wish we could stay together,' he told her as she slept. He cared about her. He could feel it inside him. It was a feeling he'd never felt before. So much stronger than how he felt about Grace or any of the others. And there were many, many others. But he felt this strongly about Taylor and he hadn't even slept with her yet. Hadn't even had the delight of kissing her. Johnny was certain those feelings would explode every nerve ending when they finally did.
And he knew they would. They had to. He liked her too much to never kiss her or hold her intimately.

He didn't love her, he decided, but he definitely felt strongly for her. It wasn't lust, more like passion.
He leant down and gently pushed his lips into her hair. She didn't stir as he held her to him, her head on his chest. Johnny sighed and smiled, shutting his eyes.

***

Taylor woke up the next morning on the sofa and alone. She held herself up on her elbows and squinted in the morning light. How was she asleep on the sofa? Had she fallen asleep on Johnny first? Where was he now?
Taylor sighed and ran a hand through her tussled hair and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She pulled back the fleece blanket and traipsed upstairs to check on him. She pushed open his door, which he never left open, and looked in. The room was empty and the bed made and unslept in.

Calmly, Taylor made her way back downstairs and found the front door unlocked. She stepped out bare foot and walked awkwardly on the gravel to the side of the house. She peeked around the wall and spotted Johnny on the hill again, guitar in arms and papers in lap. She smiled as he strummed through a few chord sequences, shaking his head at a few. He set his guitar down beside him on the hill and straightened out so he could tug his pack of fags from his jeans pocket. He lit one up and Taylor stepped out a little more from the wall. Johnny noticed her.

'There she is,' he smiled through the cigarette between his lips. He held out an arm, indicating she come and sit with him. Taylor did as instructed and climbed up the hill. As she sat down beside Johnny, his open arm closed around her shoulders. He took a drag before blowing smoke out the corner of his mouth, away from Taylor.

'How's the writing going?' she asked, nodding at the papers under his guitar. Johnny glanced at them and flicked the ash from his fag.

'Yeah,' he nodded. 'Alright.'

'Working on anything special?' she tried again. Johnny shrugged and put the cigarette to his lips. He clearly wasn't feeling very conversational, Taylor noted.

'What some breakfast?' she offered.

'Cheers, babe,' he nodded. Taylor nodded back and stood. Johnny let her. She couldn't help feel a little disappointed with Johnny's standoffishness. Had she upset him?
Of course not, she reasoned. They just had a chat last night. He'd opened up to her. Told her things he'd never told anyone. He trusted her to keep those secrets and she would. He had no reason to be reserved with her. She wanted him to trust her and to not regret sharing with her. It meant more to her than she let on.

Taylor took out a pack of French toast out the cupboard and heated it in the microwave. Johnny had insisted before that he liked French toast, so Taylor had bought two packets. She wasn't a huge fan of the stuff herself, but she couldn't be bothered to make two different meals, so she'd make do.
When it was ready, Taylor called Johnny in from outside.

He tucked into his breakfast with gusto. He really did like French toast. Taylor merely picked at hers while she nursed her cup of tea and decided she would offer her leftovers to Johnny when he was done.

'I must have been pretty tired last night,' laughed Taylor. 'I never fall asleep on the sofa.' Johnny shrugged nonchalantly as he chewed, staring at his plate.

'What time did you go up?' Taylor pressed, watching him closely.

'I dunno. Half twelveish?' Johnny lied. Taylor knew it was a lie. His bed was as tidy as it was the morning before. She wondered why he would lie about sleeping down here with her and not make a suggestive comment about it.

'Is everything okay, Johnny?' Taylor asked. He glanced up at her before continuing to eat.

'Yeah fine.' Taylor nodded and dropped it. It wasn't fine, but she knew it wasn't her place to press him for answers.

'Want mine?' she offered as Johnny finished. 'I'm not that hungry.' Johnny nodded and Taylor passed over her plate.

'Want another cuppa?' she then asked. Johnny looked down into his empty mug and nodded.

'Please,' he said, handing her the cup.
Taylor watched Johnny from the side as she boiled the kettle. She wanted to think of something to say but there was nothing she could think of that he'd respond to with more than a grunt.
Maybe he was just having an off day? She forgot sometimes that he was a temperamental rock star.
When Johnny finished Taylor's breakfast he stood. He looked distracted.

'I'm gonna get back to work. The creative juices are flowing strong today.' He turned back towards the front door and opened it.

'What about your tea?' Taylor asked. Johnny looked back at her.

'Bring it out, yeah?' he asked. Taylor simply nodded and Johnny left, shutting the door behind him.
Was that why he was being so distant? She wondered. He was in writer mode, his brain elsewhere in some musical land of inspiration.
Taylor added the milk and three sugars he always had and carried the tea out to him. She leant carefully up the hill to pass it to him and he stubbed out a cigarette to take it. He smiled at her and straight away his eyes lowered back to the papers in his lap.

Taylor lingered a moment. Was he so in the zone he couldn't even exchange words?
His eyes snapped back to hers. Taylor smiled back and took the hint. She re-entered the house and left Johnny to it.