Shameless
folder
Singers/Bands/Musicians › Placebo
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
11
Views:
1,694
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Singers/Bands/Musicians › Placebo
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
11
Views:
1,694
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. I do not know the celebrity I am writing about. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Epilogue
Epilogue: The Phoenix Festival
It rained. From the moment Suede played their first note, the sky pissed down on them like a drunk who'd finally managed to find the toilet. However, as Brett tilted his head back, letting the downpour beat against his face, the weariness of recent months washed away from him. He no longer felt tired -- worn out from fighting against an endless series of unfair setbacks. No. Now he was angry. Angry at the weather, angry at the music press, angry at the whims of a fickle god. So, the entire world wanted to destroy Suede? Fine. But he wasn't going to give up without a fight. Twisting his body so suddenly, and so vigorously, that water was hurled in all directions, Brett launched into one of the most savage performances of his life.
He didn't remember much about the concert. Just one moment, really. During the song Still Life, right after he'd sung the lines "there by the window, quietly killed for you", Brett glanced toward the door leading backstage and thought he saw Brian's petite body framed there. For an instant, Brett's heart surged with impossible hope. Maybe all had been forgiven. Maybe, despite everything, Brian had come to consummate the bet they'd made all that time ago. But when Brett looked again, the figure had vanished. And Brett channeled his emotions back into the song.
The concert proved to be an overwhelming success. Leaving wave after wave of applause behind them, Brett led the charge offstage. But while Simon, Mat, and Richard wrestled with each other, making sure that they were drenched in equal shares of leftover rainwater, Brett stood back, still haunted by the shadow of Brian. Then he noticed a box of roses someone had left next to the makeup mirror. The gift card tucked in among the red blossoms was addressed to Richard, but for some reason, Brett's curiosity drove him to flip the card over and read the message scribbled on its reverse side:
Richard,
He's sorry.
No signature, just a phone number. But Brett felt no doubts regarding who had left the bouquet. He'd never told Brian about Richard's suicide attempt. The nightmare memory of Richard thrashing against the straps that held him down, choking on the plastic tube as it was forced down his throat -- that wasn't a burden Brian needed to carry. Not for a crime he'd only committed because he'd loved the man who asked him to do it.
Absently, Brett's eyes fell on Richard, currently holding Simon in a headlock, while Mat sloshed champagne over both of them. The kid had grown up. In all probability, he wouldn't make the same choices he'd made before. Still. So much of Suede's future continued to depend on him. What if he did forgive Stefan? What if they got back together, and he quit again? Too much pain had been endured, too many sacrifices made, to allow things to end up like that. Brett's hand closed around the note, intending to crumple it up before Richard ever noticed.
Then he remembered Brian. Remembered some of the last words Brian had ever spoken to him. So. I really meant nothing to you. Followed by the only reply Brett could give. You meant everything to me. And it still wasn't enough. It hadn't been enough -- not for what love required. But maybe it was enough for this. A small act of kindness, to honor what they had once shared.
"Richard," Brett called, tucking the card back among the roses. "Come over here for a second. Someone sent you flowers."
The End
It rained. From the moment Suede played their first note, the sky pissed down on them like a drunk who'd finally managed to find the toilet. However, as Brett tilted his head back, letting the downpour beat against his face, the weariness of recent months washed away from him. He no longer felt tired -- worn out from fighting against an endless series of unfair setbacks. No. Now he was angry. Angry at the weather, angry at the music press, angry at the whims of a fickle god. So, the entire world wanted to destroy Suede? Fine. But he wasn't going to give up without a fight. Twisting his body so suddenly, and so vigorously, that water was hurled in all directions, Brett launched into one of the most savage performances of his life.
He didn't remember much about the concert. Just one moment, really. During the song Still Life, right after he'd sung the lines "there by the window, quietly killed for you", Brett glanced toward the door leading backstage and thought he saw Brian's petite body framed there. For an instant, Brett's heart surged with impossible hope. Maybe all had been forgiven. Maybe, despite everything, Brian had come to consummate the bet they'd made all that time ago. But when Brett looked again, the figure had vanished. And Brett channeled his emotions back into the song.
The concert proved to be an overwhelming success. Leaving wave after wave of applause behind them, Brett led the charge offstage. But while Simon, Mat, and Richard wrestled with each other, making sure that they were drenched in equal shares of leftover rainwater, Brett stood back, still haunted by the shadow of Brian. Then he noticed a box of roses someone had left next to the makeup mirror. The gift card tucked in among the red blossoms was addressed to Richard, but for some reason, Brett's curiosity drove him to flip the card over and read the message scribbled on its reverse side:
Richard,
He's sorry.
No signature, just a phone number. But Brett felt no doubts regarding who had left the bouquet. He'd never told Brian about Richard's suicide attempt. The nightmare memory of Richard thrashing against the straps that held him down, choking on the plastic tube as it was forced down his throat -- that wasn't a burden Brian needed to carry. Not for a crime he'd only committed because he'd loved the man who asked him to do it.
Absently, Brett's eyes fell on Richard, currently holding Simon in a headlock, while Mat sloshed champagne over both of them. The kid had grown up. In all probability, he wouldn't make the same choices he'd made before. Still. So much of Suede's future continued to depend on him. What if he did forgive Stefan? What if they got back together, and he quit again? Too much pain had been endured, too many sacrifices made, to allow things to end up like that. Brett's hand closed around the note, intending to crumple it up before Richard ever noticed.
Then he remembered Brian. Remembered some of the last words Brian had ever spoken to him. So. I really meant nothing to you. Followed by the only reply Brett could give. You meant everything to me. And it still wasn't enough. It hadn't been enough -- not for what love required. But maybe it was enough for this. A small act of kindness, to honor what they had once shared.
"Richard," Brett called, tucking the card back among the roses. "Come over here for a second. Someone sent you flowers."
The End