I'm With The Band

Taylor wandered through the house, giving herself a tour. Grace's visit had left a bad taste in her mouth and she couldn't help but wonder what it did to Johnny. No wonder he buggered off to Vegas for a week, if she comes round everyday, nagging him and dictating to him and moaning about his drinking problem when she was the very reason his alcoholism was getting worse.

Taylor thought as she unpacked her suitcase. She's claimed a bedroom decorated mostly in red and white. It was down the hall from Johnny's room. She'd looked in his. She didn't want to intrude but couldn't help but stick her head in and have a nose. It had that same black and white style and Taylor realised the house had the same theme running through all of it. His bed was huge and on the walls were guitar and large black and white pop art prints of famous performers. The only one she recognised was Jimi Hendrix.

As Taylor packed away the last few bits from her suitcase, she sat for a moment in silence. She wanted to go to Johnny. Was he busy? Would he mind? He'd left in a bit of a funny mood. She just wanted to check he was alright. Taylor stood and left her room, walking down the hallway until she found the only shut door. She hadn't entered earlier, not wanting to disturb him.
She knocked lightly and waited. There was no answer. She tried knocking again but still got nothing. She tried the door and it opened.
Poking her head in, she discovered the whole room was sound proof with thick sponge like material all over the walls and the back of the door. Johnny was just sat at a large mixing desk, staring at it. Taylor shut the door behind her and Johnny turned and looked at her.

'I did knock,' she felt the need to assure him. He just turned his attention back to the turned off equipment in front of him.

'Johnny?' Taylor asked quietly, approaching him. He said nothing. 'You alright?' He span his chair round and faced her. She stopped in her tracks. Johnny just watched her, eyes unblinking, unmoving from hers. 'Johnny, speak to me,' she urged. 'I hate seeing you upset.'
Johnny blinked and exhaled. His shoulders sagged. Taylor was unsure whether to approach him again or to just give him space.
But clearly space was the last thing he wanted as he sprang to his feet and charged at Taylor, cupping her face and kissing her hard. Taylor found herself in a little shock before slowly melting into him.

His hands tangled their way into her hair and she coiled her arms around his neck. It felt amazing to be back in his arms and affections. She'd needed this, needed him, for so long now. And now she had him, she wasn't letting him go.

They awkwardly manoeuvred their way out of the room and when Taylor realised where they were heading for, she felt her heart flutter.
Johnny kicked his bedroom door shut behind them and stumbled with Taylor over to his bed. They fell back on it in a heated tangle and Taylor found herself completely unwilling to stop it. She couldn't remember the last time her and Johnny had sex. Literally she couldn't remember, she was that drunk.
But as Johnny climbed on top and took full control of the situation, Taylor tingled with anticipation, biting the smile forming on her lips.

The last time Taylor found herself laying naked in Johnny's arms was in Hyde Place, London. It had been his Birthday. The following morning she'd found herself in a position similar to this one. Watching Johnny as she leant against his bare torso. Her eyes fell to it and were immediately drawn to the tattoo on the left side of his chest, where most people think the heart to be. Taylor traced a finger over the red lip-stick kiss, finding the urge to place a real kiss on his chest.

Johnny dropped his hand on top of hers, playing with her fingers idly. Taylor lifted her eyes to his face but he was staring tiredly at the wall. Taylor wondered when was the last time he got a good night sleep. Not past out from alcohol, an actual sober, good nights rest. He must have been exhausted what with his demanding job, the tabloids fighting over him, his daily struggles of alcoholism, not to mention all this Grace/baby business that just amplified his alcohol problems.

As Taylor watched him with keen yet sad eyes, she wanted to ask him about it. She shifted her gaze to the wall and asked a different question instead. One Johnny would find easier to answer. Besides, Taylor didn't think the mother of Johnny's child was very good pillow talk.

'Who are they?' she asked, nodding to the black and white pop-art images that covered Johnny's walls. 'I know that one. Jimi Hendrix.' Johnny exhaled and his eyes seemed to regain focus again.

'That one there,' he nodded to one with three men on it. Two had guitars, one was singing in between them. 'That's Mick, Keith and Ronnie. C'mon, Tex, I thought you liked the Stones?'

'Oh, yeah.' Taylor's smile brightened. 'I see 'em now.'

'I've got Rod Stewart and Iggy Pop in the bathroom.'

'Really?' beamed Taylor before frowning. 'Isn't that a little weird, having Iggy Pop watch you shower?'

'Nah, Iggy loves it,' smirked Johnny playfully, glancing down at Taylor.

'Above us is Kurt,' he continued. Taylor shifted so she could look at the picture mounted above the bed.

'Kurt?' she repeated, frowning at the picture.

'Don't gimme that, Tex. Nirvana were the very definition of my childhood.'

'Okay,' Taylor shrugged, settling back down beside Johnny. His arm fell back in place around her shoulders.

'You gotta know Freddie Mercury, right. Please tell me you know him?'

'Where's Freddie?' Asked Taylor eyeing the walls again.

'Over there, next to Bowie.' Johnny pointed across the room.

'Ooo, you have Bowie?' Taylor wondered excitedly.

'Of course. The man's a legend,' Johnny stated, like it were obvious.

'I'll have to take a look at them all when I'm dressed, especially the Bowie one.'

'You like him, huh?' Johnny raised an eyebrow.

'Love him,' Taylor nodded.

'Looky here.' Johnny shifted and turned his right shoulder towards Taylor. She raised her eyebrows and noticed with surprise that he'd gotten himself a new tattoo.
Across his shoulder blade, in a fancy cursive font, read 'You're a Rock N Roll suicide.'
Taylor smiled, remembering back to the first time she ever heard Johnny play his guitar. Back in Wales, she'd listened from the top of the stairs as Johnny sang this song.
Taylor was about to comment on how good a song it was, when she stopped, realising the significance and hidden meaning behind why Johnny would have this.
After all, the man was a walking disaster. He truly was a rock and roll suicide and Taylor understood that the tattoo was Johnny's way at having a dig at himself, Johnny's secret way of saying how he hated himself, deep down.

Taylor stared at the tattoo, suddenly resenting it's presence on his back, picking flaws in his life whilst judging him like some kind of Pink Floyd demon. Did he ever put himself on trial in his own mind?

'Tear down the wall,' muttered Taylor.

'What d'you say?' he asked, laying back down. Taylor stayed sat up, as Johnny ran a hand up and down her back.

'Nothing,' Taylor sighed.

'So, Tex, what do you do now?' Johnny asked with a yawn. 'Cause you ain't a cop no more, I know that much.'

'How did you know?' Taylor enquired with a light frown. Johnny shrugged nonchalantly.

'I went looking for you.'
Taylor didn't quite know what to say to that. 'Sorry for running', maybe?

'I don't do anything now. I need to get a job, really.'

'Here's a job for ya. Be my girlfriend.'

'Johnny, that's not a job.' Taylor rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the tingling feeling she got from the thought of being the significant other of Johnny Carolina.

'It is if I pay you.'

'That's technically called prostitution, which is frowned upon in modern society.'

'Tex,' Sighed Johnny.

'No, Johnny,' cut in Taylor. 'I wont be your paid girlfriend.' She folded her arms and stared him out with a stern face. Johnny broke eye contact first, which didn't happen often. Taylor felt a small bubble of victory inside her and tried not to smile over it.
Johnny seemed to be thinking of an alternative.

'Be my bodyguard then.'

'What?'

'I suggested it before, remember?' Johnny smirked. Taylor stared at the wall as she flew back in time to when her and Johnny were locked in a van being driven to theirs deaths. Back then she never thought they'd survive.

'Yeah, I remember,' she mumbled.

'Think about it, yeah?' offered Johnny as he swung his legs over the side of his bed and stood. He began to get dressed. Taylor stayed where she was, watching him.

'Going out tonight,' he told her. 'To a club. Fancy c'ming?'

'Um, nah, I should probably unpack and call my mum and tell her where I am now,' answered Taylor. 'Don't think I'm quite ready for the cameras yet,' she then admitted with a shy smile.

Johnny looked at her as he reached for his pack of cigarettes, stuffing them in his pocket messily.
He smiled softly at her. It was a real smile this time. Not a smirk. Johnny leant down and pressed a kiss into Taylor's hair and, without another word, left the bedroom.
Taylor sighed with a smile as she stared at the door he'd just left through.

***

Taylor was alone that evening as she unpacked her things into her new wardrobe and drawers. She was quietly pleased she had a separate room yet at the same time disappointed she wouldn't be sharing that big bed with Johnny every night.
But she figured she might not have wanted to spend every night with Johnny. Besides, they weren't officially and item yet. She didn't want to over step her boundaries so soon by assuming Johnny's room was her room too.

Taylor sat on her new king sized bed, mobile phone held to her ear. She had taken note of the house phone number and the address so she had something to give her mum. Couldn't have her sending Christmas cards to Vinny's place.

'Hi, Mum,' Taylor smiled after the kind voice answered.

'Oh, hello, dear, lovely to hear from you.'

'Yeah, well we haven't spoken properly in a while. Thought I'd bring you up to speed with everything new in my life.'

'Ah, wonderful. So how's Vinny, love?' chirped Taylor's mum, Denise, oblivious to the break up.

'Ah, well, that's the thing. Vinny and I broke up,' Taylor admitted, feeling awkward.

'Oh no.' Denise sounded disappointed. 'He was a lovely fella. So grounded. What happened, Taylor?'

'I was . . am . . in love with another man.' There was a moments pause. And then Denise laughed.

'Oh, Taylor, you are a girl,' she chuckled. 'I remember back when you were in school, you had this dilemma every week.' Taylor laughed too about how young and dumb she was back in school.

'Yeah, but this time I mean it, Mum.'

'You said the same about Robert, and Peter, and Jack-'

'Muuum,' Taylor groaned. 'You make me sound like a right little tart.'

'Well, sorry, dear, but you were,' Denise laughed. Taylor rolled her eyes. 'So who's this new guy, then?'

'His name's Johnny.'

'Is this the same Johnny who went into witness protection? The one you quit your job over?' And once again, that disapproving tone that only a mother can adopt came out. She wasn't best pleased when Taylor quit her job, which cost her and her parents thousands on University courses, to go travelling.

'Yeah, Mum. That's the one. He's also a famous rock star. Most famous man in the world, actually.'

'So I should expect to see you in tomorrows copy of Heat magazine then?'

'We're keeping it very low key right now. We're not public yet.'

'What's his surname?' Denise asked. 'I'll Google him.'

'It's Carolina.'

'Hmm, Johnny Carolina.' Taylor could hear the tippy-tappying of a keyboard and the murmur of her mum as she read articles of him under her breath.

'Quite a reputation, your bloke,' said Denise after a short while. 'I assume you realise he has a baby on the way?'

'Yeah. It's a boy. The mother's Grace and a complete bitch, might I add.'

'Oh, Taylor. You're seeing a rock star who's soon to have a baby with a woman you hate and who is, by the sounds of it, not over him. This is already one complicated relationship, and you haven't even gone public.'

'I know. It's going to be difficult, Mum. But trust me, I love him. Sometimes I wish I didn't, he drives me that crazy, but then I remember I love him for a reason. It's the way he makes me feel. I've never felt this way before. Not even with Vinny.'

'Well, if that's how you feel, then I'm happy for you. Bring him round for dinner sometime so we can meet him.'

'Do you think Dad would like him?' Taylor wondered, doubt in her voice.

'Roger's laid back. I'm sure he'd like to meet him. He likes all that rock music, after all.' For a moment, Taylor forgot that her dad was a big fan of Switchblade, Frank Staggon's band. AKA Johnny's dad who doesn't even know Johnny is his son.

'Yeah. We will,' agreed Taylor, weakly. 'Which reminds me. I've got a new address to give you.'

'Good god, Taylor, are you living with him?' asked Denise.

'You didn't have a problem with me living with Vinny,' frowned Taylor.

'Yes, but Vinny didn't have a bad reputation for a shadow.'
Taylor sighed and simply agreed to make Denise happy. She gave her the new number and address and heard as Denise scribbled it down in the family address book.

'You be careful, sweetheart. Just because you love him, doesn't mean he'll never hurt you.'

'I know, Mum.'

'Well, as long as you trust him, Taylor,' Denise accepted. Taylor just laughed.

'I wouldn't go that far, Mum. But it's a start.'