Famous Most Wanted

Chief Inspector Norris appeared at Taylor's side and she jumped.

'I have a new assignment for you, Reynolds, if you're interested?' he told her. Taylor looked a little hesitant.

'How many pages?' she asked. Norris chuckled.

'No, no. this is a more . . . hands on assignment.' Taylor straightened up and nodded. Finally she could get out that office and do what she signed up for. 'That's if you're up for it,' added Norris. Taylor smiled.

'I'm up for anything.'

'Good,' he nodded. 'Now come with me and we'll get you started.' Taylor beamed excitedly to herself as Norris turned his back to lead the way. She followed him through corridors she'd walked down many times and stopped outside the door to a room she knew was filled with comfortable sofas and a coffee dispenser. Norris opened the door and led Taylor inside.

Her smile failed her as she eyed the man inside the room.
Johnny stood and smirked to himself.
Luck, often mistaken for fate, was a wonderful thing.

'Mr Carolina, this is Detective Taylor Reynolds, she'll be accompanying you to your destination.'

'Wait, what?' Taylor frowned. 'What exactly is my assignment?'

'Mr Carolina witnessed a murder last night, and this morning came home to find his home destroyed. Mr Carolina is now engaged in the witness protection programme and we intend to relocate him. It will be your assignment to go with him and keep him safe.' Taylor looked between the two men, confused.

'But why me?' she wondered.

'Because you've been talking non stop for weeks about being assigned something worth while. And here it is. Keep him alive.'

'How am I supposed to do that?' she asked, confused and a little worried. 'Put him anywhere in the world and he's still Johnny Carolina. People know who he is. How could I possibly hide him anywhere?'

'That's all taken care of. All you'll have to do is protect him.' Taylor took Norris to one side and lowered her voice.

'You know of his reputation, right? I think a man would be better suited to this job.'

'Nonsense. Equal opportunities and what not. Besides, you are more than capable of doing this job as effectively as any man. You were the only one not swooning after him. I highly doubt his charm will work on you. I believe and trust you to be professional about this.'
Taylor looked back at Johnny and sighed. How hard could it be?

***

Taylor, still unsure about her agreement to the situation stood beside Johnny as Officer Vinny Hudson briefed them on what was going to happen.

'All your packed possessions will already be on their way to the location picked.'

'Which is where?' asked Johnny.

'Neither of you can know at this moment,' Vinny replied. Johnny huffed and Taylor felt the nerves build. There was still time to back out, before it's too late.

'Now, phones, please.' Vinny held out a clear plastic box. Taylor frowned.

''scuse me?' Johnny asked.

'I need to take both your phones so neither of you have a way of communicating with this rest of the world. The whole point of relocation is to be discreet. Secret. Phones, please.' Vinny looked dead serious and so Taylor placed her phone in the box. Still time she told herself. Still time to take your phone out that box and walk away.
Johnny groaned and muttered under his breath before digging his iPhone out his pocket and dropping it in the box. He folded his arms, unimpressed already.

'Any other communication devices or electronic equipment?'

'No,' answered Johnny. Taylor shook her head.
Still time, still time.

'Right, Mr Carolina, if you'd like to follow officer Rybeck and he'll prepare you to leave.' Johnny raised an eyebrow and, without another word, walked away with the man waiting to one side for him. They disappeared through a door and Vinny turned to Taylor.

'You look unsure,' he told her.
She nodded. 'I am.'

'Then don't go. It could be dangerous.'
Taylor shook her head and said nothing. Vinny had had his chance before to care and wasted it.

'And if I'm honest, I'm more worried about you being stuck alone in the middle of nowhere with that guy.' He pointed a thumb over his shoulder towards the door Johnny entered. Taylor looked back at Vinny with an unimpressed look.

'He's a rock star, not a murder and rapist rolled into one.' Vinny looked sceptical. 'Are we done here?' Taylor asked. Vinny nodded and she walked away from him. The nerve of the man, she thought.

Before her sat a black van ready to transport them to their new home for the duration. There was no specific time given as to how long she'd be working this assignment. If they couldn't find this gang, she could be stuck out there for months and not even know where she was. She'd be stuck with whiny diva, Johnny Carolina. Sounds like any girls dream right? Well not Taylor's. In fact, she couldn't think of anything worse. So why was she doing it? The pay, she figured. And the experience.

Still time to get out of there, she told herself. But eventually, as Johnny returned, looking very angry with his new hair colour, the pair were loaded into the van with no windows. As the back door slammed shut, Taylor realised her time was up and this was happening.

Taylor and Johnny were sat opposite each other along either side of the van. They had been travelling for an hour or so, and Johnny was getting fidgety. Taylor tried to ignore him and continue reading the magazine she found in the van for time killing.

Funnily enough she found an article on Johnny and didn't like reading how he was rumoured to be an alcoholic who drink drives on a daily basis. Taylor glanced up at him and found an unlit cigarette resting in his lips. He patted his pockets in search of a lighter.

'Do you mind?' she commented. Johnny looked up at her and frowned in a questioning way before apparently realising something.

'Oh, do you want one?' Taylor sighed and lowered the magazine.

'I don't smoke, clearly. And this van has no windows, remember? So where is all that smoke going to go?' Johnny shrugged. 'Don't smoke it,' she ordered.

'I ain't had one in hours,' he moaned.

'Not my problem,' Taylor smiled bitterly. Johnny muttered something and put the cigarette away.

'Don't know why I agreed to this. All you're doing is changing me. I mean, look at this joke of a hair colour.' He looked up at his hair and grabbed a handful, inspecting it. 'It's black,' he commented.

'It's chocolate brown,' sighed Taylor.

'I don't give a fuck what the box said. It's bloody black!'

'Well you were hardly baby blonde before.'

'But I sure as hell wasn't black either!'

'Do you want to be safe and be unrecognisable or what?' tested Taylor.

'Unrecognisable is the word. I never wanted black hair.'

'It's dark brown, Johnny, honestly,' she sighed 'And what's wrong with dark hair?'

'I'm just not that kind of musician.'

Taylor raised an eyebrow. 'And what kind of musician would that be?'

'The kind that have black hair and wear make up and all dark clothes.'

Taylor rolled her eyes. 'It doesn't matter what colour your hair is. Your hair colour doesn't determine what kind of artist you are.'

'Then you clearly don't know music, love.'

'Seriously, Johnny, who cares if your hair's black or not? That doesn't make you an Emo or whatever.'

'So you admit that it's black,' noted Johnny. Taylor clenched her jaw.
It was decided. She hated him. He was a total dick and she hated him.

'How much longer Vinny?' Taylor called through the wall in the van that divided them from the front.

'Another few hours,' he called back. Taylor took a deep breath and tried to calm herself.

'Bored of my company already?' smirked Johnny.

'That's one way of putting it,' said Taylor, forcing a tight smile. Johnny looked away and continued to smirk. Taylor couldn't tell if he was purposely just trying to wind her up or whether he really was this annoying. If it were the latter, she knew she was in for a long next few weeks, maybe even months.

When the van finally pulled to a grateful stop some three hours later and the back doors were prised open, Johnny and Taylor burst from the van and stretched their legs. Johnny pulled out that cigarette and lit it. He walked to the fencing that surrounded the area and looked out across the mountains around them.

'Where the fuck are we?' he muttered. Taylor looked up at Vinny and lowered her voice.

'Yeah, Vinny, where the fuck are we?'

'North Wales,' he replied in a low voice also. 'If you travel about a 3 miles that way,' he held up an arm to show which way. 'You'll come across a small town called Betws-y-coed. Lovely town. There you can stock up on supplies but try to avoid going too often. We want to keep Johnny as hidden as possible for as long as possible.'
Taylor nodded. She looked over her shoulder at Johnny.

'All your personal belongings are already inside. Taylor, this is for you.' She claimed the mobile phone Vinny handed her way. 'We can contact you with this and vice versa. If you need anything at all . . call, yeah?' Taylor pocketed the phone and nodded. She didn't see why she'd need it unless it was an emergency. She was perfectly capable of babysitting a rock star.
Vinny nodded before getting back in the van. Johnny turned to look when he heard the engine start.

'Leaving so soon?' he called, walking to stand beside Taylor. 'We were about to throw our house warming party.' He slung an arm across Taylor's shoulders and she shrugged it off.

'Suit yourself,' he shrugged, walking away.

'You sure you're going to be okay?' Vinny asked through the open window, eyeing Johnny.

'What's the worst that could happened?' she asked rhetorically with a brave smile.
Taylor watched the van drive away down the long driveway that twisted around the side of the mountain and sighed.

'You got the keys to this place?' Johnny called out. She turned and saw him stood by the door. 'I want to see what my new house looks like.' Taylor walked to the door and stuck the key in it. The door swung open and they both stared into the dark cottage.

'Ladies first,' said Johnny.

'Coward,' smirked Taylor.

'Coward?' repeated Johnny, sharing that smirk. He followed Taylor in and shut the door. 'Where are the lights?'

'I think we need to pay for it,' responded Taylor, looking over the meter in the corner of the kitchen. She rooted through her purse and put some money in the meter. The lights came on around the cottage and they both looked around the small plain open plan kitchen into the living area.

'Cosy,' Johnny commented in an unenthusiastic voice.

'No one said it was going to be perfect,' sighed Taylor, walking to where her suitcases sat waiting in the living room.

'Right . .' Johnny agreed distantly. Taylor picked up her luggage and Johnny did the same. He followed her upstairs and Taylor eyed the small hallway. At the bottom was the bathroom. The room opposite the staircase was a bedroom and the second bedroom was at the other end of the hall. Taylor took the room directly opposite. She threw her suitcase on the double bed and looked around the room.

'Why do you get this one?' Johnny asked, stood in the doorway and surveying the room.

'Cause,' Taylor sighed. 'If you ever try to run away in the middle of the night, I'll know about it.'

'Wow. Cause that doesn't sound creepy at all,' he quipped sarcastically. Before snorting. 'If I run away,' he repeated, shaking his head and walking down the hallway. 'What am I, 5?' he called.
Taylor shrugged to herself. 'Could be,' she muttered.

As Taylor neatly unpacked the contents of her suitcases into the wardrobes and drawers provided, Johnny did the same, not quite as neatly though. It seemed the only thing he took pride in, was his guitar. He was so glad someone had the sense to bring this for him. Once he'd unpacked, he sat on the double bed and began to tune the guitar. It had gotten knocked out during the journey. Either that or someone just didn't respect other peoples property.

Down the hall, Taylor could hear the twanging of Johnny's acoustic and she froze, listening. She found herself almost disappointed when he didn't play a song. After all, he was Johnny Carolina. It was what he was famous for, and to hear a song from him personally, was not something many women could boast about.
But it was only the first evening there. She had plenty of time yet to hear him play. She was pretty confident about that.

Once the unpacking was all done Taylor went back downstairs and made some tea. She bit her fingernails as she stared at the kettle, waiting for it to boil. It was cold in the Welsh mountain side cottage and Taylor pulled the sleeves of her knitted white jumper over her hands and made fists inside the fabric.
She missed her home already. She sighed and shook her head. The things she does for her job. Hardly worth it, she thought.

As the kettle finished boiling, Johnny appeared at the bottom of the stairs. Taylor was surprised to see him out of his usual leather jacket and into a plain jumper. He stood for a moment and looked around the living room with no particular expression on his face. Taylor wondered what was going through his head.

'Tea?' she called to him. Johnny looked up at her and acknowledged the two mugs in front of the kettle.

'Please,' he nodded.

'Milk?'

'Yeah.'

'Sugar?'

'Three.' Taylor raised her eyebrows at Johnny. He merely shrugged. 'Got to enjoy the sweeter things in life,' he smiled.

'Indeed,' mused Taylor, adding more sugar to Johnny's tea. She poured in the hot water before removing the teabags and stirring. She handed a mug to Johnny and he took it with a light smile and nod. Taylor sipped her own tea and observed Johnny as he did the same.

'You don't seem like a tea kind of guy,' she told him. Johnny shrugged.

'You'd be surprised what kind of guy I am.' They held each others eyes before Taylor looked away.

'So now what?' she asked.
Swallowing his mouthful of tea, Johnny looked around the room.

'I'm going to be bold and assume that TV works,' he said, pointing at it. Taylor smiled at his humour.

'Possibly,' she nodded. 'But I think I'm going to have an early night myself.' Johnny followed her as she walked to the stairs. He stopped at the sofa and followed her no further.

'Think I'll check out the quality of this tele.' He indicated at the small bulky box in the corner of the room.

'Yeah? Well try to keep the noise down,' instructed Taylor, ascending the stairs.

'You sure you trust me down here on my own?' he called up to her. 'What if I run away?' There was a smile to his voice and a smile to Taylor's as she replied.

'You wouldn't dream of it,' she called back down to him. 'Cause you know I have a gun.'

'If I wanted to get shot I would have stayed at home,' muttered Johnny collapsing into the sofa and searching for the remote, when he dishearteningly realised it didn't have one.

Taylor cooked up a light breakfast the next morning and Johnny woke to the smell of eggs and toast. He groaned after looking about, wondering where he'd passed out this time. Until, of course, he remembered he was under witness protection.
Huffing and puffing and muttering to himself, Johnny got out of bed and got dressed. He dragged his feet down the stairs, tripping on the last step. He looked about the small living room in the daylight and sighed.
Taylor watched him from across the room. Johnny yawned and scratched his head.

'Breakfast's ready,' she told him. Johnny looked up at Taylor and registered that she's cooked him breakfast. He didn't normally eat breakfast. He normally wasn't up in time for breakfast. Johnny normally had late lunches and he normally ate them out.
He sat at the kitchen table and tucked in. Taylor had already eaten and so subtly watched Johnny eat.

'So what's the plan for today?' he asked between mouthfuls.

'We need to go shopping,' Taylor filled in. Johnny rolled his eyes.

'You
women are all the same.'
'Food shopping, Johnny,' sighed Taylor. 'They stocked up on essentials for us but it's not enough to last us the week. We're going to need to go to the shop.'
Johnny paused eating and looked up at Taylor.

'What, where people are?'

'I can't afford to leave you here on your own. You'll be safe,' she promised. Johnny scoffed.

'I don't care about that. I just don't want anyone seeing me with this hair.' He looked up at the hair tumbling from his scalp to his shoulders. Taylor sighed. Out of everything, that's his biggest worry?

'Don't worry,' she assured him with a small smirk. 'No one will know it's you.'

***

Curtis tapped his foot impatiently. Tommy idly twiddled his drumsticks through his fingers. Zach sat trying to create shapes from the smoke he was blowing from his cigarette. The room was silent other than the tapping of Curtis' foot on the laminate flooring.
Kool-Kevin entered the rehearsal space State-Side always hired when preparing for a tour, just hanging up his phone. He looked about the three men, expressionless.

'What the fuck?' he asked. 'Why aren't you doing anything productive? The tour's in three days.'

'Tell that to the singer,' said Zach, watching the smoke rings he was making as they faded and disappeared into thin air. Kool-Kevin took a second glance of the area. Indeed, Johnny was nowhere. He sighed.

'That bloody bloke.' He shook his head and pulled his phone out again. He dialled Johnny's home number and it just kept ringing. Muttering to himself, Kevin tried Johnny's mobile. It was switched off.

'Great,' he moaned, shoving his phone back in his pocket. 'Now I have to go get the bell-end.'

'You want me to try calling him?' asked Tommy.

'I don't see how that's going to make any bloody difference,' dismissed Kool-Kevin. Tommy shrugged. 'Start without him,' Kevin instructed.

'How?' asked Zach incredulously. 'He's the singer.'

'Improvise!' Kool-Kevin turned his back and left the studio in a huff. He loved the boys, but damn they were tiresome sometimes. Especially Johnny. Kevin unlocked his car and got in.

During the drive to Johnny's flat, Kevin thought about how he first met Johnny. At 25, he stumbled upon a wasted and stoned 18 year old with a scary amount of potential. He asked the teen what his name was and he came back with Johnny Carolina. It was clearly fake, But Kevin didn't care. The kid screamed rock star. He screamed platinum records and, more importantly, he screamed multi-million. Kool-Kevin didn't waste any time making business with the kid, telling Johnny that if he didn't find himself a band, he'd find one for him.

A week later Johnny called Kevin, on the number from the business card he'd given him, and told him he'd found a band and was ready.
Kool-Kevin grinned into the receiver and simply said “You're going to change the world, kid.” And he was right. 5 years later, Johnny was still an iconic symbol of rock. He was rock.
Kool-Kevin had always felt a fondness for Johnny. A fatherly protectiveness that he didn't think he'd ever shake. He prided himself on discovering Johnny. Johnny may have changed the world, but he only changed it cause Kevin gave him the power to.

Kool-Kevin unlocked Johnny's flat with the key he had. Johnny had given him one without any convincing. It was his own idea. Kevin was touched by the gesture. Even after all these years and despite everything Johnny was capable of, he never ceased to surprise Kevin.

'You're a real liability sometimes, Johnny,' Kevin called into the flat. 'You better not be face down, off your head with your arse hanging out,' he warned, turning around and finally noticing the yellow police tape secured across each door frame. He froze and frowned, looking from the tape across the living room door, to the tape that covered the bathroom, to the tape that covered the bedroom.

'Johnny?' Kool-Kevin called into the silent and, now that he thought about it, cold flat.
What had happened here? He wondered. Was Johnny in trouble? Why was his flat a god damn crime scene?

'Jesus, Johnny,' he said shakily under his breath as he stepped further into the flat. 'What have you done this time?' He remembered seeing Johnny sat casually on his slashed leather couch and blamed him for the mess. Maybe, just maybe, Johnny didn't trash the place for once?

Kevin looked in the bedroom first. Besides the mess, what stood out for Kevin the most was the guitarless wall hook on the wall. Johnny's most prized possession was that old Gibson acoustic.
He'd told Kevin about it like it were a secret he was trusting him with. It meant more to him than any of his other guitars did. This was the one he'd bought and paid for with hard earned cash, before he got famous and could buy more guitars with easy earned cash.
He saved for the best part of a year to buy that guitar and was penny-less for a long time after. It reminded Johnny of a time when he had nothing and actually made him grateful for what he had now.
A guitar was the last thing he needed, surely?
No. A guitar was the only thing he needed.
Wherever Johnny went, the guitar went, and Kool-Kevin had a pretty good idea that wherever Johnny was right now, he had his Gibson and he was content in that alone.

Kevin then looked in the bathroom and the words 'you're dead!' splashed across the mirror. His jaw fell open.
Maybe Johnny wasn't content after all.