Famous Most Wanted

The Weekly Word
29/03/11



Kool-Kevin lowered the paper. He didn't need to turn to page 15. He knew exactly what he'd told the public. He'd sat for hours, shitting bricks, as he tried to think of something calm and professional to say. He had to be very careful with what information he released to the press. Any mention of the police tape, the trashed flat or the death threat on the mirror and he knew it would be over. As it is, Kevin was betting on how long it would take the papers to print lies of Johnny's death.

Johnny wasn't dead. Kevin knew it. He could feel it. The world wasn't grey yet. And he knew the second Johnny lost that bright spark that made the world so colourful, life would become a very dark place indeed.

Kool-Kevin had told the rest of the band to take off. Go on holiday to another country until this media storm blew over. Everyone now wanted a piece of them, wanted their thoughts, their insight as to what they think has happened to their band member. These people were vultures.
They didn't care that the boys were worried sick. Johnny wasn't just a work colleague, he was their friend, and he was gone. Kevin had assured them all that he'd take care of everything in the UK, just as long as his boys were out of the limelight for the next few weeks. He felt it was his duty to protect them, even if he was powerless to protect Johnny.

'How long until the rumours begin?' Kevin asked himself and sighed, binning the newspaper. 'I'll give it a couple hours.'

***

Zach Montana was a beach holiday kind of guy. He loved to lay in the sun with a beer, maybe smoke a little grass, with a beautiful woman at his side. Any holiday he took was generally a tropical one. He often spent time in the likes of Hawaii or Fiji. He loved how blue the water was there. Bluer than the sky, and that wasn't the weed talking. He'd eye a palm tree every time he sat on the beach and would question how difficult they were to climb.

This holiday in Hawaii he'd taken however was a little less relaxed. He found it difficult to do so knowing Johnny was . . . well, where ever Johnny was, and Kool-Kevin was back in London sweating his arse off over the whole thing. Zach felt guilty. Felt like he'd abandoned the manager with the worst.

He sat on the private beach, sun blazing on his back, sand soft between his toes and couldn't feel either of them. He stared out across the sea, currently more worried about Kevin then Johnny. Johnny was made of tougher stuff than most men. Zach knew that Johnny could take anything. He was a survivor and had a very strong mind set.

Kevin on the other hand. Though he was very cool, as his name perceived, there was only so much pressure and weight one man could take before cracks started to show. He was the bands filter. He took all the crap from the reporters, the record company and the general public so the band didn't have to.
Kevin should have been the one on holiday.

Zach took a swig of beer and cringed at how sour it tasted. He took a drag from his spliff to no effect. He glanced tiredly at the Hawaiian babe beside him, soaking up the sun. She wasn't as gorgeous as he'd remembered. Zach really hated his conscience sometimes. With a sigh, he stood and padded back to the villa behind him.

'Where you going, baby?' called the woman, turning in the lounger and lifting her sunglasses.

'Home,' he called over his shoulder. The Hawaiian woman lowered her sunglasses and leant back into the lounger and carried on catching some rays. What did she care? She was only a groupie anyway.

***

Curtis York Liked to spend time in New York city. The big apple. But what with cancelling the US tour, Kevin had suggested it might be better to stay away for a while. The last thing any of them needed was the American press getting on to them. So Curtis went to his second favourite city. Paris.

It was dusk and Curtis stood on his balcony from the top floor of the hotel, staring out at the Eiffel Tower, lit up like a Christmas tree.
He tipped the glass on red wine to his lips and sighed. He heard heels clicking behind him but didn't turn to look at the beautiful half naked blonde, compliments of the Four Seasons. She slid her hands across his shoulders, dying to get this man in bed. This wasn't part of her job description, but who ever said business and pleasure didn't mix?

'Are you coming to bed, magnifique?' she purred. As much as Curtis would have loved to have ravished this woman, his heart just wasn't in it. He was worried about leaving Kevin to fight off the press on his own. They were a family. They had to stick together right?

'Ma chere?' she asked. Curtis sighed and turned to look at her.

'Odette, mon amour, I'm afraid we'll have to take rain check on this.' Odette frowned. 'Huh?'

'Next time. La prochaine fois,' he explained. Odette looked severely disappointed.
Curtis knew he couldn't stay here and enjoy himself, knowing that Kevin was struggling and that Johnny was still missing. He knew he had to go home and help Kevin look for him. Curtis slipped on his jacket and left the suite. He would have his luggage transported to the airport.

***

Tommy Nevada spent a lot a free time in Venice. People had often said he had an Italian lover there. They were right. Tommy had been seeing Gianna on and off for two years. No one really knew, not even the band. He never wanted to say until he knew where he stood in the semi-relationship. He would never be as bold to say he loved her, but wasn't ignorant enough to say he didn't care for her a great deal. Apparently the feeling was mutual. Neither was ready to commit but neither were willing to lose the other.

Tommy sat on a gondola with his arm around Gianna. The atmosphere was calm and relaxing but Tommy just couldn't seem to get comfortable.
As much as he loved coming to Venice to see Gianna, and it had been a while what with the UK tour, he couldn't help but feel he was needed more back in London with Kevin. Surely any support he could offer would be better than nothing. Maybe he could take Gianna with him?
Would she go?

She was pleasantly surprised to see him when he turned up on her doorstep. He was supposed to be in America. She hadn't heard of Johnny's disappearance. She wasn't really interested in the band and that was one reason Tommy liked her so much. She liked him for him. Gianna never kept up with the State-Side gossip. She didn't read magazines or newspapers. She didn't care for it. So when Tommy told her of the amazing disappearing front-man, she was shocked.

The band was important to him and he spoke of Johnny often to her, she knew this was a very very big deal and was, in all, surprised, outraged and utterly flattered that he had come to see her in a time like this.

Tommy sighed as he gazed vacantly at the view. No matter how many times he tried, he just couldn't convince himself the whole band were taking vacations. He tried to visualise Johnny in his favourite holiday destination, drinking shots of tequila and trying his luck on a roulette table in Planet Hollywood. But Tommy knew the truth. Johnny wasn't in Las Vegas, the city he'd once claimed was built purely for him. He wasn't drinking tequila, he wasn't at a roulette table and he wasn't in Planet Hollywood. He wasn't anywhere on that strip, state and possibly even continent.
In truth, no one knew where Johnny was. Who was to say Johnny even knew where he was? All Tommy knew was, Johnny was gone, and a fat lot of good he was doing on a bloody boat in Italy.

'You want to go back?' Gianna asked in her thick Italian accent that turned him on. Tommy nodded. Gianna straightened up and nodded also. 'Then lets go.'

***

Johnny Carolina had only been to Wales fleetingly as and when tours required. He never imagined himself to live there, even if it wasn't permanent. He hadn't yet decided if he liked it. It was different. But different good?
The air was cleaner, sharper. Everywhere was quieter. It was colder too. A hell of a lot colder. He'd also never lived with a woman before, besides his own mother during his youth.
Johnny and Taylor had come to a mutual understanding. If she let him smoke in the house, he wouldn't constantly try to flirt her into bed. It was becoming somewhat a distraction for her.

She was tough on him and he liked that about her. No woman had ever had the balls to ever tell him no . . . well, except for his mother, but he never really counted her in the equation. Johnny liked how Taylor didn't take his bullshit. How she deflated his ego every opportunity she got. He liked that she was hard to get and not just playing it. She really was a challenge to him, and if that was what he found so attractive about her, he hoped that she would stay that way and never say yes to him. He didn't ever want to stop liking this woman the way he did.

Johnny cursed violently at the TV and Taylor raised an eyebrow and glanced over from the kitchen table.

'What are they saying now?' she asked, sipping her mug of tea and turning her attention back to the puzzle, half finished.

'Mum . .' he said faintly, a quiver to his voice. Taylor looked back up and saw a slim woman with a dark bob on the screen before seeing the agony on Johnny's face. The woman, his mother, was being ushered into a busy looking police station, cameras flashing and questions being shouted as the police held the journalists back from her. She had large sunglasses on her face and refused to look up at anyone who shouted to her. She look pale and scared as hell.

'What's going on?' Taylor asked.

'They found my body,' he groaned, running his hands through his hair. Taylor stood abruptly.

'What?' she snapped, walking to the sofa and sitting beside Johnny.

'It's barely been three days since the world found out and now they say they've found my body and now they've called mum in to identify it,' he held up a hand at the TV. 'It's a fucking sick joke. Why would they do that to her? They know I ain't dead!' He looked desperately to Taylor for answers she couldn't give.

'Maybe they just want it to look as if they're searching for you. Cause we know they aren't really, but they have to make it believable to the public.'

'Fuck the public! They've told a mother her son's dead when they damn well know he ain't!'

'And she'll get in there and tell them it isn't you and then the world can breath a sigh of relief that Johnny's still out there.'

'Mum's going to go apeshit at them. I'd hate to be the poor fucker on the receiving end.' Taylor stood and turned the TV off.

'Now c'mon,' she ordered. 'This puzzle isn't going to finish itself.'

***

Kool-Kevin was a little annoyed, but secretly completely relived when he entered the band's rehearsal room earlier that morning to find the boys plus one sat in there. He felt a strange burning in his chest as they told him they came back for him. These boys were loyal, he knew that much.

Now they sat in tense anticipation to hear from Miranda. Everyone had heard of this so-called body the police had found. No one could believe it. The possibility of losing Johnny forever was scarily close. No one said a word. No one wanted to believe that it was a 50/50 chance it was all over. 50/50 that their friend was dead.
Curtis ran his hands through his hair and shut his eyes.

'What do we do?'

'Huh?' Zach grunted. Curtis looked up at Zach and then the others.

'If it's him. What the fuck do we do? We aren't prepared for this. I'm not ready to let him go.'

'None of us are ready to let him go, Curt,' replied Zach. 'I've been trying to prepare myself for the worst but now the worst is actually a possibility, I'm freaking out. None of us want that to be Johnny. And I haven't got a fucking clue what we'll do if it is.'

'Why would they need Miranda to identify the body?' Tommy asked. 'Surely they can just look in a magazine and see whether it's him or not?'

'Standard procedure, I guess,' shrugged Kevin. 'They can't claim the body's anyone unless a relative or such claims it.'

'Do you think it's him?' Tommy asked. Kevin sighed.

'Honestly? I don't think he's dead. I just got this gut feeling that he's still out there somewhere.'

'Hope you're right,' muttered Zach.
A shrill noise cut through the air and everyone held their breath. Zach leant forward in the squeaking leather armchair. Tommy wrapped an arm around Gianna and stared at the floor. Curtis put his head back in his hands.
Kevin took a deep, shaky breath and put the mobile to his ear.

'Speak to me Miranda.' The worry on Kevin's face stayed put as he silently listened to Miranda. Zach watched Kevin intensely, searching for any sign of relief on his face. Kevin frowned.

'Are you sure?' He asked before sighing. 'I never said you don't know what your son looks like, I just wanted to be sure.' He was quiet again. 'Okay then. Thanks for calling. You going to be alright? . . . okay. Speak to you soon. Bye.' Kevin hung up and dropped the phone onto the coffee table, that was still littered with Johnny's work, and exhaled.

'Well?' snapped Zach who couldn't stand it any longer.

'It wasn't him,' Kool-Kevin said in an even voice. The room released it's breath and relaxed.

'Thank fuck,' breathed Zach, taking a grateful drag from his cigarette. Tommy's arm tightened around Gianna and he hugged her. Curtis was looking up now, still pale but not as tense.

'So where the fuck is he?' Curtis questioned no one in particular. No one answered because no one knew.