Famous Most Wanted

Johnny was lying on the sofa the next morning feeling sorry for himself. Taylor came downstairs and gave him a nudge.

'C'mon,' she said, standing over him with her hands on her hips. 'Get up.'

'Why?' Johnny moaned.

'Cause you're moping. C'mon, get your shoes on.' She walked to the cupboard under the stairs and pulled out their coats.

'Shoes?' Johnny mumbled and sat up, frowning. 'What on earth for?'

'Cause we're going to get some fresh air. You've been cooped up in here and now your moping.'

'I'm not moping,' argued Johnny. 'And I don't need fresh air.'

'It wasn't a request Johnny,' said Taylor in a last-warning voice. Johnny groaned, got to his feet and stepped into his clunky boots. Taylor threw his black winter coat at him and he caught it. He slipped it on as Taylor adjusted a scarf around her neck.

'Ready?' she asked. Johnny dug his hands in his pockets and grunted. Taylor, knowing it was the best answer she was going to get, threw open the front door and stepped out into the cool, crisp morning air. Johnny stepped out and Taylor locked the door. She dropped the keys in her coat pocket and then left her hands in her pockets. She walked around the house and Johnny followed miserably. They began up the hill behind the house and just kept going up.

'I don't wanna go up the mountain,' Johnny whined.

'Stop being such a baby, Johnny.' He muttered something but matched Taylor's pace a few steps behind her.

'I thought a walk would be good for you,' she told him, glancing over her shoulder.

'How'd you figure that?' Johnny frowned.

'Clear your head. We'll just take a quick walk then go back.'

'There's no such thing as a quick walk. As soon as a walk becomes quick, you're in the realms of running.' Taylor looked back at Johnny and stared at him a moment.

'Are you always this weird?'

'Are you always this bossy?' he shot back. Taylor sighed and looked forward again. He was impossible.

'So did you really crash a wedding in Germany?' she asked. She noticed it was easier to have a conversation with Johnny if the conversation was about him.
He shrugged.

'Apparently. I don't remember but they say it really happened.'

'How much of your life do you not remember?' she wondered to him. He seemed to think about it.

'I'd say I've lost at least a year of my life over the years.'
Taylor shook her head.

'Why would you do that to yourself?'

'Do what?' Johnny frowned, scratching his nose.

'Drink an excessive amount and forget a whole year?' Johnny shrugged. Taylor thought about what she'd read in the gossip magazine on the drive to the cottage. Could it be true? 'Are you an alcoholic?' she asked gently. Johnny threw his head back and laughed.

'Where d'you read that, the Daily Rag?' he grinned between laughs. 'No I ain't an alcoholic. I just like to drink.'

'Enough to forget?' Taylor questioned.
Johnny sniffed and kept his eyes to the ground.

'Some things are worth forgetting.'

'You've got such an amazing life, Johnny, why would you want to miss a second of it?' He looked up at her and actually seemed to be processing her words.

'It's not intentional,' he said slowly, thinking as he spoke. 'I like my life. I'm not depressed and I'm not an alcoholic, I just get carried away. I just never know when to stop.' He was staring at his feet as he spoke, rather than gazing across the magnificent mountain tops around them. Taylor figured he'd maybe seen so many impressive sights that a bunch of mountains just didn't compete, didn't even deserve a glance. 'I've always been a sort of “never do anything by half,” kind of guy. I don't pussyfoot around. I just . . do, and enjoy.'

Taylor sensed Johnny was telling her things a music journalist would sell their kidney to hear. She supposed it was a good thing. It meant he trusted her. He looked at her then.

'What about you? You seem like a think first kinda girl.'
Taylor nodded.

'I have to think first, I'm a cop, I can't just “do” like you do.'
Johnny simply shrugged and left the conversation there.
Taylor sighed and kept her eyes in front of her.

They walked the next ten minutes in silence, Johnny still several paces behind her. She figured, if he wanted to, he could close that gap in seconds with those long legs of his.

'My neck's cold,' he whined.

'You should have put a scarf on,' she told him with no sympathy.

'Maybe, or we could just turn around and go back.' Taylor sighed and span around, hands on her hips. Johnny, who was clearly walking closer behind her than she'd thought, had to abruptly stop, else walk straight into her. The surprise of his closeness was written on her face.

'You're so difficult, Johnny,' Taylor frowned once she'd regained her composure. Johnny smirked a little.

'No I'm not.'

'You are! Do you like making my life hard?' She folded her arms. Johnny laughed and Taylor didn't fail to notice how handsome he looked when he smiled. She also didn't fail to notice the tiny step forward he took. She eyed him with caution.

'If it's anarchy you want, babe, then I'm certainly the man to give it to you.' Taylor broke eye contact and shook her head.

'I've never known anyone like you before, Johnny.'

'Thank you,' he grinned down at her.

'What makes you think it was a compliment?' she raised an eyebrow.

'Because I don't want to be like anyone you've known before.' He caught her off guard with that one. Taylor found herself lost for words as she stared at Johnny. His eyes were a dark green with flecks of light brown around the pupils, she noted, and very nice too.
Johnny began to reach out a hand and Taylor's mind snapped back into place. She steered away from Johnny and started back down the mountain.

'Right, let's go back then,' she said, concentrating on her feet to distract her mind from what might have happened if she was still staring at Johnny. She felt flushed and didn't look back to see if he was following. She could hear his footsteps. She was certain this time he wasn't right behind her.

Most girls would kill to stand on a mountain and stare into Johnny's eyes. For Taylor, alarm bells rang in ever corner of her mind.

***

Kool-Kevin rubbed a hand across his sweaty brow as suited men from the record company filled the room and occupied the chairs around the table. He glanced out the window of the office and saw Zach, Tommy and Curtis sat uncomfortably in the leather sofas of the waiting area. Kevin had told the boys to stay outside while he took care of the label.

'What's this about then Kevin?' asked one man in a suit, Duncan Yope. State-Side were signed to one of the biggest recording companies in the world, Rush Records, and, being their biggest act, they had gotten on first name terms with all the band and Kevin. That didn't mean Kevin still didn't feel a little intimidated by their presence.
He took a deep breath.

'It's about Johnny,' he said.

'Yes, we were about to ask what all this business was with his family,' said another suit called Michael Denning.

'Um-' stuttered Kevin.

'And he's not out there,' he threw a hand at the window, where the remainder of the band could be seen. 'So I take it, he's still away?'

'Um-'

'The tour is tomorrow, Kevin. What were you thinking? You know what he's like. Who's to say he'll be back in time?'

'Well-'

'Get him back. Tonight,' ordered a grey suit, Barry Pollow.

'I can't,' blurted Kevin. They all starred at him.

'What you mean you can't?' enquired Duncan. Kevin shrugged helplessly.

'He's disappeared,' replied Kevin in a low voice. The three men starred blankly a minute and Kool-Kevin hoped that maybe they hadn't heard him.
A second later the men exploded into a cacophony of questions. What do you mean he's disappeared? Where is he? Why are you only telling us now? How long has he been gone? Then the panicked questions. What the hell are we going to do? How could this happen? What do we tell America? What do we tell the world?
After a few minutes, when the suits had calmed and composed themselves, Michael looked at Kevin.

'Have you told the police?'

'Oh!' Kevin slapped his forehead like he'd just remembered something. 'Of course. The police! Now why didn't I think of that?' He glared at Michael. 'The police won't help us,' Kevin sighed.

'What? Why not?' demanded Michael.
Kevin shrugged.

'Don't know. But there's police tape all around his flat, which is totally destroyed. They know exactly where Johnny is but they just keep pretending they know nothing. They won't even pretend to look for him.'

'Then he's obviously still alive,' mused Barry, rubbing his chin. 'If he wasn't, the police would have to tell his family.' Kevin hadn't even considered Johnny being dead. The thought sent a cold panic down his spine. The way these men spoke of Johnny's well-being with dispassionate voices left a bad taste in Kevin's mouth. All they were concerned about was whether Johnny would be raking in anymore money for them, rather than his health or safety.

He was like a son to Kevin and he resented how these stiff suits spoke of him as nothing more than cattle. Like these men knew anything about real music anyway.
Johnny knew. Johnny understood. He was a true musician who really felt the music he produced. It all came from his heart and not many people knew that. Not many people cared. Certainly not these three. They didn't care whether it came from his heart or his arse, as long as it sold, they were happy.

'What do we do now?' Kevin asked, wanting to just get the hell out of there. Even the building itself didn't feel musical or creative. The air smelt too clean and everywhere was far too tidy for Kevin's liking. The band's rehearsal room smelt of cigarettes and caffeine and yesterdays curry and every available surface was cluttered with beer bottles, take away boxes, papers and papers of lyrics and chords and music Johnny had written. It was everywhere and you only had to look at the room to know it was a room of music.

'We cancel the tour, obviously,' said Duncan. 'It can't go ahead without Johnny. We'll take care of telling the company president, Jeremy Rush, and legal department and cancelling the road crew waiting in America. You take care of the tour manager, promoters, marketers and . . well, Johnny's family I guess.'
Kevin was not looking forward to telling Miranda her son was not present and accounted for and that he hadn't been for several days now.

Kool-Kevin nodded and finished up business with the three men and left the office feeling a great weight on his shoulders. He approached Zach, Tommy and Curtis on the sofas and they all stood.

'Well?' asked Curtis wringing his hands.

'Unpack your bags, boys. Tours cancelled.'

***

Johnny, sunken into the battered old sofa, stared at the ceiling.

'Why don't you do something productive?' Taylor suggested, looking down at him. Johnny's eyes snapped to hers.

'Like what?' he challenged. Taylor shrugged.

'Write a song maybe?' Johnny laughed dryly.

'To write a song, it takes inspiration . . not mention motivation. I have neither.' Taylor looked around, confused.

'Lacking inspiration? Hello? Take a look at what's happened to your life in the last week. Isn't that enough?'

'Possibly. But I don't have the motivation to even consider the inspiration.' Taylor walked away, her hands at her head.

'Call me when you're done talking in riddles, yeah?'

'What day is it?' Johnny called, not getting up. Now that was a question she could answer.

'It's Sunday.'

'When do you think the world will notice that I'm not there?' he asked. Taylor sighed and folded her arms, walking back to the sofa. She looked down at him and considered taking a seat beside him. She thought of their moment on the mountain and thought better of it.

'You were meant to go to America tomorrow, yeah?' He nodded. 'Then I'd say tomorrow people will begin to realise that your band is still in the UK and there's still no sign of you.' Johnny simply nodded again. Taylor silently watched him. She could see the conflict of his thoughts on his face and gently perched next to him on the sofa. This was taking it's toll on Johnny and she couldn't tell if it was driving him insane or not.

'Fuck, I need a drink,' he muttered then lifted his eyes to meet Taylor's. 'Or at least a hug?' It was a question. One Taylor didn't think she could answer. She lowered her eyes and exhaled.

'Johnny . .' she sighed. He sat up and watched her.

'I'm not asking for a shag, just a little bit of comfort.' Taylor was ready to give him hell when he suddenly wrapped a long arm around her shoulders and reeled her closer. She fell back against him and went rigid. Johnny circled his other arm around her and rested his chin on her head. He exhaled deeply and Taylor didn't know what to do. What should a woman in this situation do? She thought franticly as Johnny simply held her. He didn't try anything, which surprised her.

Taylor realised that he was comforted by just the human contact, and, despite herself, so was she.
How long can one person last without the physical contact of another?
Taylor slowly relaxed into Johnny and put an arm around his torso.
This meant nothing, she told herself over and over. They were simply supplying each other with a hug that they had both needed since day one.

'Johnny?' Taylor asked lightly.

'Mmm?' he rumbled. Taylor felt it through his chest, which she was leaning against. She wanted to ask again about his real name. Ask him about his father. Ask him so many questions that occupied far too much time on her mind.
She knew he'd only avoid the question though. She was sure that when he was ready to talk, he wouldn't need to be asked.

'Nothing,' she answered, pulling herself away from Johnny. 'I'm going to start dinner.' She walked into the kitchen, ignoring the way she'd fit perfectly into Johnny's arms.