I'm With The Band

When Taylor got up the next morning and headed down for breakfast, she poked her head round Johnny's door. He was sprawled in the middle, sound asleep. She smiled to herself, just pleased that he was alone.
As she walked down the stairs, a harsh knock sounded on the front door. Taylor went and answered the door, soon wishing she hadn't. Grace stepped in, uninvited, with snobby, mean eyed Glenn.

'Where is he?' accused Grace. Taylor shut the door and folded her arms.

'Grace, with all due respect, you can't just barge in here uninvited.' Grace snapped around and observed Taylor a moment. She would have been quite intimidating if she were a few inches taller. Due to her pregnancy, she'd stopped wearing heels. It was more than her back could take, as Taylor had read in Eden Edition once. Grace stepped up to her and got in her face.

'Don't tell me what I can and can't do. This is Johnny's house.'

'And now it's mine too,' replied Taylor calmly, completely in control. 'Now could you please take a step back and get out my face. Johnny's in his room.' Grace huffed and shot one final glare at Taylor before hurrying off upstairs with Glenn to, no doubt, bitch to Johnny about one thing or another.

Taylor continued to the kitchen and boiled the kettle. She needed a big cuppa and she knew Johnny would too after he wakes to Grace squawking at him.
In what seemed like no time at all, Johnny entered the kitchen wearing boxers, a thin, silk dressing gown belted loosely, and sunglasses. He must have been hung over. Grace followed, blabbering on about public image and his reputation and hers and how could he ever look after a child if he can't look after himself? She was waving a magazine at him and Taylor felt her stomach drop. What had he done now?

Johnny sat down at the kitchen table and Taylor handed him a mug. He nodded at her gratefully and took a healthy sip.

'What will the public think, Johnny? How could you be so stupid? How could you do this to me?'

'We ain't together, Grace,' Johnny snapped. 'So what's the big fucking deal?'

'The deal is that you, you selfish bastard, are going to be a father soon and need to start acting like one. You can't get pissed every night and get off with strange models.' Johnny froze and so did Taylor. Neither heard Grace as she gabbled on like a trooper. Johnny looked up at Taylor while she refused to look at him.

'Hey, Grace?' she asked. Grace stopped talking and looked at her. 'Mind if I have a look at that magazine?'

'Sure,' Grace said with no interest, tossing the magazine her way.

'No, Tex, there's no need to read that. It's nothing,' Johnny said, reaching out for Taylor to give him the magazine. She ignored him and opened it up.
There he was, at the opening night of new rock club 'Rock Bottom' with his tongue down a famous models throat, last night. Ironically, this was probably happening while Taylor was on the phone to her mother, raving about how much she loved him. Her mother's words rang in her head like a church bell on an early Sunday morning.
Just because you love him, doesn't mean he'll never hurt you . . .

Suddenly she felt so stupid, knowing that her mum would see this also and turn to her dad and say 'That's Taylor man, that.' Roger would shake his head with distaste and say she could do better.

Taylor dropped the magazine on the table, stunned but not sure why. She knew what debauchery Johnny was capable of and yet she continued to see only the best in him. She merely figured that Johnny wouldn't snog a stranger the same day he'd asked her to be his girlfriend.

'And what does your staff think of all this?' Grace said snottily, throwing a hand up at Taylor as she glared at Johnny.

'Taylor is not my staff,' Johnny growled.

'Yes I am,' Taylor said absently. 'I'm his bodyguard, and from now on I'll make sure he doesn't go anywhere alone.' Taylor's burning eyes snapped down to Johnny then. 'And I want a big fucking pay rise for this, boss.' Taylor walked out the room, ignoring Johnny as he called after her only twice.

Eventually, after Johnny got Grace to leave and gotten dressed, he came into her room. Taylor wouldn't look at him. Johnny stood with his hands in his pockets as he watched her busy herself.

'Tex, stop a minute. Let me explain.'

'What's to explain, Johnny?' Taylor asked in a nonchalant voice. 'It's not like we're together. You're a single man. You can do what you want.'

'Don't do that,' Johnny muttered, shaking his head at her.

'What?'

'Act like you don't care. I know you better than that. Don't act like you're not bothered.' Taylor stopped what she was doing and sighed, shoulders dropping along with her defiance. Her back was to him.

'And how do you want me to act, Johnny? Want me to scream at you? Cry? Throw fucking crockery at the walls?' She turned and looked at him, probably looking as tired as she suddenly felt. 'Cause, help me out here, how do you seriously want me feel about this?'
Johnny watched her a moment before dropping his eyes.

'I'm sorry,' he said as he turned and left her room. Taylor blinked back her tears and fought back the surprise of an actual apology from him.

Taylor didn't see him again for the rest of that day, but she didn't care. She was still pretty pissed off with him.

The following morning, her third day in her new home, she awoke to find a large black and white print of David Bowie staring at her. Taylor jumped and then stared back at it. It was the one from Johnny's room. He must have hung it up while she slept as part of his apology. Taylor folded her arms on top of her knees and smiled at the artwork. It was similar to the Aladdin Sane album cover, with the lightening bolt painted across his face. This was how she liked Bowie best. Outrageous and different to anything out there. Kind of like Johnny now.

There was a knock on her door and Taylor glanced over to see Johnny enter with a mug in either hand. He closed the door with his foot and did that careful, precarious trying-not-to-spill walk everyone does while holding a mug full to the brim. Taylor smiled briefly while his eyes were fixed on the mugs. He's just the same as everyone else, Taylor realised. It was at times like these, where she caught him doing something so totally normal and human, that she remembered how gorgeous he was.

Johnny sat a mug of tea down on the bedside table for her and sat on the side of her bed, holding his own. Taylor picked up the purple mug and blew on it.

'Wow,' she said. 'You must be sorry. First and actually apology, then the picture, now tea in bed.' Johnny shrugged, sipping his tea and staring at the wall.

'I fuck up,' he said as if that explained it. Finally his eyes snapped to hers. 'So did you mean it?' he asked then.

'What?' Taylor frowned, swallowing down her tea, even though it was a little hot.

'Being my bodyguard? Cause I'll pay you shit loads.'

'Is that what you'll write on the cheques?' Taylor laughed. 'Shit loads?' Johnny smirked.

'Hey, shit loads is an actual unit of measurement. Right above shit ton and right below fuck load.'

'So you're not going to pay me fuck loads?' teased Taylor.

'I'm not made of money.' They held each others smiles a moment. After a moments pause, Johnny sighed. 'I missed this,' he said, tilting his head at Taylor.

'What?'

'The banter. You always bite back and I like that.'

'Someone's got to keep your feet on the ground,' she shrugged. Johnny leant forward and kissed her lightly.

'You sound like my mum,' he muttered.

'And do you kiss your mum like that?' Taylor said quietly, his lips only inches from hers.

'Fuck, I hope not. I hardly remember anything from my teens past the whiskey and the weed. I don't even think I turned 18. Think I went straight from 17 to 19.'
Taylor shook her head and pushed him away with a roll of her eyes.

'Creep.'

'Oi. Get dressed. I ain't payin' you to loll around in bed all day,' Johnny ordered playfully with a wink.

'Yeah, boss.' Taylor smiled, pulled back the duvet and climbed out of bed.

'Make sure you're ready to leave at . . . say, half 5?'

'For what?' Taylor frowned.

'For the interview. We're playing on the Keith Poeman show.'

'Really?' Taylor wondered, remembering back to when they sat in the cottage watching the show as his band mates lied about his disappearance.

'I know,' agreed Johnny. 'Weird, huh? Like an omen or something.' With that thought, Johnny left the room, allowing Taylor to dress in peace.

Taylor hung around the backstage area, not knowing where to put herself. She wasn't used to the whole bodyguard thing and couldn't decide if she should stand there looking menacing or not. Bodyguards, she noted, were normally a lot bigger, taller, scarier and a lot more male than she. How could she possibly look menacing at 5 foot 6?

She watched Johnny and the band on a screen out the back as they played their new song . . her song. It still gave her goose bumps down her arms. She thought of when he first sang it too her in Hide Place. How special she felt. How much passion she held for him.

She knew she could never tell him she loved him. That would scare him away for sure. He loved his independence and that was the thing about Johnny Carolina. He was just that. Grace was the only woman to successfully hold on to him for more than a week. That was why the public and, on occasion, the media would speculate that he loved her. That despite everything he does and all the trouble they appear to have, he truly loves her. The very notion made Taylor queasy.

The Keith Poeman Show wasn't filmed live. They would film it now and air it on Friday night, so when the band had finished the song, they didn't go straight to the leather sofa, like you see them do on TV. Instead they came out the back for a make up touch up.
The guys came back into the room and Taylor smiled at Johnny. He made a beeline for her and smiled back.

'Did you see it?' he asked. She nodded.

'Mm hmm, I did.'

'Was it good?'

'Yeah,' Taylor replied, feeling bashful for some reason. Most likely because the song was about her.
'Yeah, it was great.' Johnny caught her hands in his and gave them a squeeze.

'Only because you're so great.' Taylor's blush increased. 'After all, you're my muse, baby,' he smirked, winking devilishly. Gosh he was so handsome Taylor could barely tear herself away from him for long enough while the make up artists went to work on him again.

Taylor left the room a moment to find the ladies toilets and was surprised when she came back to find the room empty of the band. Various staff of the show, such as the stylists and make up artists were still hovering round, either chatting, drinking coffee or watching the interview on the TV.
Taylor stood by and watched also, blocking out the chatter around her.

'And when is the next tour?' Keith was asking, clearly already several questions into the interview.

'Couple of months,' answered Zach. Taylor didn't really know the band. She only met them before at the hospital Johnny was at as she explained the story to them. After that she left, thinking she'd never see any of them again.
She hoped they'd grow to like her and not consider her a money grabbing whore like Grace.

'Excited about that?' Keith continued with a smile.

'Very,' nodded Curtis. 'Just as long as no one goes missing this time.' He shot a playful glare at Johnny who merely smirked, for some reason loving the idea that he was the screw up of the band. Johnny shrugged.

'I was having a nice little holiday in Wales, what can I say?'

'Ah yes,' said Keith, reeling in the topic with delight. 'We all know of your witness protection story. I don't think we ever discovered the identity of your escort. The one who stayed with you the whole time.'
Really? Taylor thought. After all this time and all those interviews, he'd never once blabbed her name?
Johnny lowered his eyes and seemed to smile. 'Ah, I'unno if I should say anything. We're still try'na work it out, y'know?'

'What d'you mean by that?' inquired Keith. Johnny looked up and caught eyes with Zach, his best friend. Taylor wondered if he ever told him stuff about her.
Their brief eye contact seemed to answer Johnny's unasked question. He shrugged again.

'Well, she's kinda living with me now.' Keith's eyebrows shot up the same time Taylor's eyes widened. She suddenly became painfully aware that everyone in the room was watching the TV and any talk was now of Johnny and his mystery woman.

'Well, that's a new development, right?' asked Keith.

'Yeah. Only been a few days now.' Johnny scratched his head and Taylor couldn't decide if he looked awkward to comfortable about the topic of conversation. He'd never been one to discuss his personal life to strangers. 'She's actually the one I wrote that song about,' Johnny confirmed.

'Oh. My. God,' said someone behind Taylor. 'The internet is going to go mad on this one.'

'I know, right? I wanna know who she is.'
Taylor felt that heat creep back up her neck. She too wasn't one for discussing her personal life . . or rather having her personal life discussed.

'Wow,' enthused Keith. 'So you really feel for this woman?'
Again, Johnny shrugged, not giving away anything, even to Taylor.

'We're like positive and negative magnets,' he summarized. 'Sometimes we attract and some times we repel. Either way, we're made for each other.'
Taylor was shocked by how perfectly he'd described their relationship. Magnets.. They were exactly that. It reminded her that Johnny was quietly intellectual.

'That's a very good way of putting it, I guess,' said Keith. 'So you and this lady are together?' Johnny licked his lips as he thought about it.

'No,' he admitted. 'I'm a bit of a dick. Like the magnet, I just end up pushing her away every time I try and get close to her. It's complicated. Like I said, we're try'na work it out. Figure out what exactly it is we have, cause there's definitely somethin' there.'

Throughout the remainder of the interview, Keith didn't mention Grace or the baby. He must have been warned not to, maybe even legally agreed not to.
When the guys came back into the room with Kool-Kevin, Taylor wasn't sure whether to smile or glare at Johnny. Some stylists forced smiles and conversation on the band while others watched and whispered. Johnny, however, came straight over to Taylor again.

'How was that?' he asked with a smile. She regarded him a moment as she tried to decide whether she was angry. She didn't know.

'Johnny,' she began uncertainly. 'I wish you wouldn't have mentioned anything so soon?'

'Why not, Tex?'

'Shhh! Don't call me that in front of all these people,' she hissed.

'Why?' Johnny frowned.

'Cause that's your song. And they now know it's about the woman you're living with.'

'Yeah. Which is you,' he stated.

'Johnny!' Taylor said through her teeth. 'Stop. We're not public yet, remember?'

'Then maybe it's time I made us public, Tex.' Johnny swept the hair from her face and kissed her firmly. Taylor shut her eyes, only so she wouldn't have to look at the gaping on-lookers. The room had practically fallen silent now.

Johnny pulled away and smirked at her. Taylor stared back at him, deep down seething with anger at both Johnny and the stylists who had pulled out their phones to take pictures of the whole thing. Johnny slipped on his sunglasses and slung his arm around Taylor's shoulders.

'Let's go home, Tex.' He said so obviously as they walked out the room.
Taylor sighed and put her head in hers hands.

'Hold on tight, sweetheart,' Johnny grinned. 'It's gonna be a bumpy ride.'