After The Glitter Fades.

each chapter is named after the song that inspired it - includes how 'The Tears' was written.

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After The Glitter Fades by noellover

[nextpage title=”Flash Delirium – MGMT”]

Flash Delirium – MGMT

Julian can’t handle his fantasies anymore.

God, he is so beautiful it hurts if I look at him for too long.

Every curve and arch of his body is like poetry, and his face looks like it’s been designed by Gods. Schitzo Gods, from another dimension, on acid, but Gods.

No one has ever been so unearthly beautiful! I’m certain of that…

Jesus, what would it be like to run my hands over that face? Feel whether that pale skin was as soft as it looked, comb my fingers through that ridiculous hair that filled me with awe, gaze into those eyes that were innocent and lustful at the same time, touch those perfect lips, trace the lines of his neck, his chest… Wonder where else I could run my hands…

“You’re staring again!”

I was jolted out of yet another day-dream by his absurdly masculine voice, which never quite seemed to fit the beautiful, androgynous exterior. He was looking at me; his head tilted to the left quizzically, and those fathomless eyes filled with confusion and amusement.

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

I flashed him a quick, defensive smile and immediately glanced round his room for something else to focus on. Everything in that room reminded me of him, and everything about him made me twitch. Fuck!

I hurriedly pulled my jacket into my lap, and settled for staring out the window onto Camden’s heaving streets.

“Ju?”

Shit, had he seen?

“Um… yeah. What’s up?”

I tried to sound as casual as I could with a ridiculous erection throbbing almost painfully against my now-taught jeans. Noel sighed and ruffled his hair, gazing at me from beneath his heavy fringe. Bloody tart. I smiled briefly.

“What are you thinking about? Every time I look up you’re staring at me like that.” He laughed and ruffled his hair again.

“Oh, yeah, I was just… um… do you wanna get out of here?” I was desperate to distract him, and could see it working. His confusion turned to childlike enthusiasm in a split second.

“Yeah, genius! I’m burning up in here!” He fanned himself dramatically.

“Well, look what you’re wearing, ‘course you are!”

“What?! Charles of London made this for me!”

He gestured flamboyantly at the skin-tight leather jacket with feathers round the collar he had been squeezing himself into that morning when I arrived with coffee.

“Don’t you like it?”

Although his eyes still had the cheeky glint in them, I could sense the slight hurt in his tone. He always liked having my approval, even though I’ve got no bloody clue what he’s on about when it comes to fashion. Christ, if only he knew how much i approved of his skimpy outfits…

“Ok, whatever, let’s go do something, yeah?”

He’d already lost interest, and was now practically buzzing at the thought of ‘doing something’.

I had to shake myself to get rid of all the amazingly fucked up images that flooded my head with that line. I was relieved we were going, I couldn’t be in his room anymore, sitting on his bed, surrounded by his things. I was just getting up, when I suddenly remembered my… situation. Shit!

“Let me just nip to the loo first, then we’ll be off.”

“Jesus, what’s wrong now?”

He giggled and shot me a glance that seemed to say he knew exactly what was wrong, then huffed in the way a child does when told they can’t have more sweets. He sat down cross-legged and rolled his eyes.

“Alright.”

I sprinted to the bathroom, locked the door and stared at my face in the oversized mirror. I was bright red and sweating out, no wonder he thought something was up! I splashed cold water on my face, and clutched the side of the bath, willing it to go down… Come on! Grandmas, Grandmas, Grandmas… Nanageddon… Noel in a dress and heavy eyeliner screaming into a microphone… FUCK! I had to! I really, really had to!

I stopped and listened, heard Noel flick on the TV and begin watching NME. I had time. Could I do this? Really, here? In Noel’s house? Just the thought was getting me harder, and I knew I had no choice…

I reached down, and slowly undid my fly, pausing every now and then to listen for signs of movement. Noel’s attention span was so short I couldn’t be too careful. I closed my eyes, and began to run my hand up and down. Noel was flooding my head: black hair, white skin, blue eyes, red lips, narrow hips, tight arse… I was so hot by now it only took a few strokes and I was gripping the side of sink with white-knuckles, cursing and saying his name under my breath as I came hard.

I splashed my face with water again, and sat panting on the toilet lid for a few moments to cool down. I glanced in the mirror again as I opened the door. I looked just as flushed as I had when I had come in, but at least I didn’t have an appalling boner to worry about anymore.

As I shuffled out of the little room, I turned and saw Noel sitting with his knees tucked up to his chest on the chair facing me, a mildly amused expression on his face, but with one eyebrow raised and his lips slightly parted. I had never seen him looking sexier. And that is saying something.

He smirked at me for a moment, slightly parting his knees and tilting his head back. Then, in one movement, he turned, stood up and began walking towards the door, with even more swagger in his step than normal. I hesitated a moment, not sure of how to interpret his current mood.

He stopped for a moment at the door and slowly turned to face me. His smile grew wider and more cheeky.

“Coming?” he asked slowly, as he raised an eyebrow. He glanced down at my crotch so quickly I was wondering if it had even happened, then turned immediately and walked out the door, leaving me reeling.

Mild apprehension.
Blank dreams of the coming fun.
Distort the odds of a turnaround.
Gut screams out next to none.

So turn it on, tune it in, and stay inert.
You say “I’ve got the backbone.”
The back way to escape the gun.
Climbing a tree with a missing limb,
And not saving anyone.

And now it hurts to stay at home, and see…
Flash! The mirror ball’s throwing mold,
You can’t get a grip if there’s nothing to hold.
See the flash catch a white lily laugh and wilt,
But if you must smash a glass first fill it to the hilt!

Plants, as far as I know are still,
Still bending toward the light,
And if we dance until the heart explodes,
It’ll make this place ignite!

And even if this hall collapses,
I can stand by my pillar of hope.
It’s just a case of Flash delirium!

Here’s a growing culture,
Deep inside a corpse.
Ages stuck together,
Taking it to the source.
Timeless desperation.
Pictures on a screen scream:
“hey people, what does it mean?!”

Comfort keeps us nice,
So quick to donate everything.
Die wolken drifting blinding smiles circling.
And time’s tingling spines,
Attaching hands to floor.
The rosy-tinted Flash!

The hot dog’s getting cold,
And you’ll never be as good as the Rolling Stones!
Watch the birds in the airport gathering dirt,
Crowd the clean magazine chick lifting up her skirt.

Why close one eye and try to
Pledge allegiance to the sun,
When plastic ghosts start terrorizing everyone?

Geometric troops aligning,
Carried up to the burial mounds.
My earthbound heart is heavy.
Your heartbeat keeps things light,
With the violence forever threatening the night.

And even if this hall collapses,
I can stand by my pillar of hope and trust
That our heads won’t burst!

Lines when I close my eyes and just aim blindly at the sun,
And hear love when the ghosts start singing terrorizing everyone.

Geometric troops aligning,
Carried up to the burial mounds with gold.
It’s a heavy load but your,
You rhythm makes it light and explode
Like a violent star keeps threatening the night.

And even if this hall collapses,
I can stand by my pillar of hope and trust
That our heads won’t bust!

66 55 red battleships
40 earthlike planets
3 holes 2 tits
1 fork in it’s side
Zero tears in their eyes

Sue the spiders
Sink the Woelsh
Stab your facebook
Sell sell sell
Undercooked
Overdone
Mass adulation not so funny
Poisoned honey, Pseudo science,
Silly money, You’re my honey.


[nextpage title=”Fuck The Pain Away – Peaches”]

Fuck The Pain Away – Peaches

just close your eyes and think of him…

We slumped over the bar, leaning heavily on each other, laughing hysterically at something we weren’t quite sure of. I was clutching a can of larger as Noel sipped a luminous blue cocktail which, from the look and smell of the thing, was about 90% vodka, 5% sugar, and 5% pure light; a very Noel drink for a very drunk Noel.

Girls kept flashing Noel seductive looks, and he wasn’t exactly ignoring them. Even as he was talking to me, he had his arm round some girl, Megan, or Meg, or something. She wasn’t exactly shy, but I still wished Noel would take his hand out of her bra while he was talking to me.

When, as I was mid-way through describing an idea for the Boosh film, she leant over his shoulder and started biting at his neck the way I had fantasized about for months now, it was too much, and I couldn’t stay sitting there. I shouted, a little louder than necessary, that I was going to the bathroom. He barely even looked up from sucking her face off.

I didn’t go to the bathroom. I pushed through the crowd towards the glowing exit sign, then changed my mind and elbowed my way back to the bar, ordered a shot of tequila, downed it, and ordered another.

As I was ordering my third, watching in fascination as the room began to swim, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I ignored it, hoping it was some random Boosh fan about to ask me “Where’s Noel?” But, as I hunched over the bar, ready to deny my name, I heard a girl’s voice mumble in my ear, “What’s up Ju? Tequila’s made you stupid!”

I turned round, and through the lazy haze of my eyes saw who it was.

“Dee?” It had been over a month since her break-up with Noel, what was she doing here? And alone? She lived with sue right on the other side of Camden. She laughed and hugged me. Her laugh sounded weird, not like usual, and the hug was hollow.

“You alright?” I asked, still confused.

“Yeah! Great! Just came here to um… well, see how Noel’s doing, but I see he’s busy.” She laughed weirdly again, and I could now see how bad she looked. There were dark circles under her eyes, her make-up was smudged, and her brown roots were showing through the red and black streaks.

I glanced back over to where Noel had been with that girl, but they weren’t there anymore. I looked around the packed club, until I saw them in the dark corner of the room, where there were couches and bean-bag chairs. They were surrounded by couples getting off, and I could just make out Meg slowly getting onto her knees in front of Noel, as he looked up at the ceiling, biting his lip.

“Oh, right. Yeah.” I looked away, unable to handle the feeling in the pit of my stomach. I glanced at Dee, and saw that her eyes were swollen and filled with tears. I knew exactly how she felt. We both needed to get away from this place.

“Dee, shall we go…”

She cut me off. “NO! No, Ju, really, I’m fine.” Unconvincing smile. She grabbed my arm and pulled me onto a bar stool, and ordered four more tequila shots. She began babbling incessantly about anything that popped into her head. “So, I’m writing this new song at the mo, think it’ll be great, it’s about being hurt… he cheats and you’re there wanting to kill him and the other girl and stuff! One of the lines is “I’ll cut her from ear to ear, and the… yeah… so…” She was staring at Noel as she trailed off, jumping between singing and shouting and high and low pitches at an alarming rate, then fading into silence, like she was just giving up.

I’d seen her like this before, but before she’d been out with Sue, she had her armour. I remember seeing her on countless occasions watching Noel get off with some random girl across the room, while she pretended not to see, and sang loudly with Sue and danced and drank. And drank. I’d seen that sorrow in her eyes so many times, usually cleverly hidden with make-up, and now I finally understood it.

Suddenly, all my feelings turned to pure anger. How could he do this to me? To Dee? He’d made it perfectly clear that he knew what had happened at his place before we came out, and it was only a month since his split with Dee, yet there he was getting sucked off by some random girl in club.

I wanted to get back at him, show him how it felt. I turned to Dee, and I could see from her expression that she was thinking the same thing as me. Her nostrils were flared and her eyes were wide and filled with hot tears as she turned away from Noel in the corner and stared up into my blurry eyes.

Before either of us knew what was happening, we were kissing wildly, grabbing at clothes and clawing at faces, taking out all our pent up anger and lust and despair. In our minds, it was Noel we were kissing and grabbing at and scratching – it was Noel’s hair I was tugging, it was Noel’s face she was clutching, Noel’s hands down her top, Noel’s fingers running down my stomach, Noel’s tongue down her throat, Noel’s grip on my arse, Noel’s body pressed against hers.

The room was spinning as we staggered out of the club, still locked in our fantasy, and hailed the first cab we saw, not caring about direction or time; just wanting to get away from here, from him.

The whole journey seemed merged into a single gasping breath. We arrived at a flat, not knowing or caring whether it was mine or hers at that moment, and scrambled up the stairs, not even looking at each other more than was necessary, just so we could remain trapped in the idea that it was still Noel. Still Noel.

It was all happening so fast, neither one of us wanted to stop in case the spell broke. We were in the door, stripping off, naked, fucking, on the bed, on the floor, against the wall. We were fucking Noel, in every sense of the word – I was caught somewhere in between fucking Noel’s girlfriend to show him what pain feels like, how it feels to be betrayed and consumed by jealousy, and just wanting to fuck anyone, just so I could picture Noel. I knew Dee was feeling exactly the same. We both needed this.

We were a blur of flesh spinning & whirling round the apartment, flipping upside down and back to front constantly, trying to avoid the reality that it was me fucking Dee as we both thought of him. We were crazed by our make-believe: lips on me, tongue on her, hands, fingers, mouths, teeth, nails, hair. Ripping, tearing, screaming, crying. As we came together, a vibrating ball of agony and ecstasy on the floor, screaming out his name to the silent universe, we collapsed against each other, overwhelmed with pain and heat and shame.

Sucking on my titties like you wanted me
Calling me, all the time like “Blondie,
Check out my chrissy behind.”
It’s fine all of the time,
Like sex on the beaches.
What else is in the teaches of peaches? Huh? What?

Sucking on my titties like you wanted me
Calling me, all the time like “Blondie,
Check out my chrissy behind.”
It’s fine all of the time,
What else is in the teaches of peaches?
Like sex on the beaches. Huh? What?

Huh? What? Right on.
Huh? What? Right on.
Huh? What? Right on.
Huh? What? Right on.
Huh? What? Right on.

Sucking on my titties like you wanted me
Calling me, all the time like “Blondie,
Check out my chrissy behind.”
It’s fine all of the time,
What else is in the teaches of peaches?
Like sex on the beaches. Huh? What?

Fuck the pain away.
Fuck the pain away.
Fuck the pain away.
Fuck the pain away.
Fuck the pain away.
Fuck the pain away.
Fuck the pain away.
Fuck the pain away.
Fuck the pain away.
Fuck the pain away.
Fuck the pain away.
Fuck the pain away.
Fuck the pain away.
Fuck the pain away.
Fuck the pain away.
Fuck the pain away.

Huh? What? Right on.
Huh? What? Right on.

What else in the teaches of Peaches?
Sex on the beaches?
Huh? What? Right on.

Fuck the pain away.
Fuck the pain away.
Fuck the pain away.
Fuck the pain away.
Fuck the pain away.
Fuck the pain away.
Fuck the pain away.
Fuck the pain away.


[nextpage title=”The Tears – Robots In Disguise”]

The Tears – Robots In Disguise

why that song was really written…

When I woke up an hour or so later, my head and heart still thumping insanely, Dee was dressed, standing and staring out the window, smoking. This was weird, not least of all because she didn’t smoke. But Noel did, so I could see the appeal at that moment. I pulled on the nearest shirt and went to stand beside her. We stood in silence for what seemed like hours, her head leaning on my shoulder. I could feel her shivering, but I doubt it was from the cold. Finally the sorrow-filled silence was cracked. “I know you love him too.” she whispered hoarsely into my shoulder.

I wasn’t surprised. Nothing could have made me feel a thing at that moment. I sighed.

“S’pretty obvious then?”

“Yeah, neither of us is that subtle.” I smiled briefly, then paused.

“He knows.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm. Had a wank over him earlier today and he knew immediately. How could he not get something as big as love?”

Tears began to form in her eyes as she stared blindly out the window at the moon. The moon. Just another fucking reminder of him. There was another long pause.

“He’ll fuck you up, you know. He’ll really hurt you.” The tears began tumbling down her face.

“You’ll be his slave.” she whispered. I turned to her.

“I already am.”

We spoke until dawn, about our fear of him with anyone else, the pain and panic of hearing the tabloid rumours, the things that he never said, but always showed in his looks. Jealousy, fear, love, pain. Him. We talked about what had happened that night and why – how fantasy was shattered by harsh reality as we came.

By the end of the night, I was sitting on the bed with my guitar, while Dee stood at the window. We had been scribbling down words furiously as a song formed in our heads.

Fear of an enemy,
A hand to a face.
Words I overhear.
Stop starting histories!
A code in a look.
What’s that number?
What’s that number?

Red light, panic, terror! Error! Error!
I’ll cut her from ear to ear.

Blue funk, panic, terror! Error! Error!
I’ll cut her, I’ll cut her, I’ll cut her, cut her, cut her, cut her!

Crazed by my make believe,
A tongue down her throat,
The grip on your arse.
Tales that you tell to me,
A touch of your nose,
Why did you stammer?
Why did you stammer?

Red light, panic, terror! Error! Error!
I’ll cut you from ear to ear!
Blue funk, panic, terror! Error! Error!
I’ll cut you, I’ll cut you, I’ll cut you, cut you, cut you, cut you!

I am your slave, got to taste
The tears, the tears, the tears!
I am your slave, got to taste!

I am your slave, got to taste
The tears, the tears, the tears!
I am your slave, got to taste!

Red light, panic, terror! Error! Error!
I’ll cut you, I’ll cut you, I’ll cut you, cut you, cut you, cut you!

I am your slave, got to taste
The tears, the tears, the tears!
I am your slave, got to taste!

I am your slave, got to taste
The tears, the tears, the tears!
I am your slave, got to taste!


[nextpage title=”Do You Want The Truth Or Something Beautiful? – Paloma Faith”]

Do You Want The Truth Or Something Beautiful? – Paloma Faith

the truth comes out… literally…

After Dee left that morning, taking with her the notebook filled with scribbled lyrics for our song, I sat in the kitchen, chain smoking and wondering what to do. What could I do? I was still stuck in a hellish limbo somewhere between fury, love and lust. I wanted to punch Noel’s face in while kissing him. Wanted to scream at him about how he hurt me, and describe what happened last night and why, but at the same time I wanted to forget that anything had ever happened. One thing I was sure of was that I never, ever wanted things to stay the same as they had been for the last month. I needed change. And he had to know that.

Just as I was thinking this, there was a heavy thud at my door. I staggered over, but it burst open before I reached it. Noel was standing there, unshaven with smudged eyeliner and unbrushed hair. He hadn’t showered, and smelt strongly of alcohol and sex and cigarettes.

“You fucking bastard!” he yelled, and slammed the door behind him as he strode in; none of his normal loose, feminine movements or seductive swagger, just pure aggression. I’d never seen him this angry.

“I saw you! Saw you leave with her!” He strode towards me, shaking with anger, and slammed his fist into my nose with all his might. I heard a sickening crack, and fell backwards heavily onto the floor.

“Was it good Julian? Did you have fun fucking your best friend’s ex? Jesus, we broke up a month ago!”

I was getting over my initial shock now, and all my rage and indignation from the previous night were flooding back. I began to see red, and not just from the blood.

“Yeah, you seemed to be moving on pretty fast, getting sucked off in a bar by some random girl!”

I launched myself off the floor and slammed him up against the wall, holding him there as he bit and kicked me. His fist hammered into my temple and I fell backwards again, taking him with me as I went. We rolled round the floor clawing at each other’s faces, hitting out at any part we could reach, desperate to inflict pain. It was strangely reminiscent of the previous night.

“How the fuck do you think it made her feel, seeing you like that?” I spat as I slammed his head against the floor.

“What, so that gives you the right to fuck her? Julian the hero, fucking the pain away, that it?” He was on top of me now, holding me down.

“She’s not the only one who cares about you, you vain twat! How do you think I felt? The only reason we fucked was so that we could imagine it was you! We both just wanted you!”

Noel relaxed a little with surprise and I took advantage, flipping him over onto his back, so I was shouting in his face. “I fucking want you! I need you! Are you so thick that you can’t see that?”

Noel had that look of confusion in his eyes again, a childlike innocence that made me relax my grip a little too. He was staring at me, transfixed. I could see his rage start to melt away. Tears were in my eyes now, I could feel them burning. I got off him, stood up and sat on the couch with my head in my hands, shaking as racking sobs took over me.

When I looked up, I saw Noel, still lying on the floor. His eyes were wide and questioning. There was a cut on his left cheek, his eye was swelling up, and there was a thin streak of blood trickling from the corner of his split lip, contrasting horrifically with the white, blue and black of the rest of his head. I stared at his beautiful face. What had I done to him? When I gazed into those brilliant blue eyes, it wasn’t anger I saw, it was fear. He was afraid because of what I had done to him. I had never felt worse about myself.

“Oh God, Noel. I’m so, so sorry. I just wanted you to feel as bad as I did. I wanted to show you what jealously and betrayal feel like…” Tears began pouring down my face again, but silent now, as I watched the man I love lying on the floor, broken at my feet. I’d fucked his girlfriend, then beaten him up for it. All because of my utter stupidity. Wanting him to feel the same as I do, when I knew that could never happen. How could it? He didn’t love me.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered, barely audible, but Noel heard me.

He stood slowly, and began walking towards me. I couldn’t bring myself to look up, terrified of seeing his bruises, his cuts, or, worst of all, what might be written on his face; fear, hatred, rejection, or just a cold blankness.

When I finally dared to look up, I saw him standing before me, staring down. The expression in his eyes had changed now, the fear and rage were gone, and had been replaced by a soft, comforting smile.

He bent down low, soft his hair brushing my hot face, and tenderly kissed my forehead. “You really want me?” His voice was muffled by my hair, but he repeated it – not as a question, this time, but as a statement. He pulled away and stared into my soul with those unearthly eyes. He was searching for answers, for reasons, for proof.

I took a deep breath, and looked up into his perfect eyes. I still had some anger left over, but it was fading away with every second as I looked at that beautiful face. “You know I want you.” I muttered into my clasped hands. “You knew what happened yesterday before we left!”

“Well, yeah, but I didn’t think it was that big a deal…”

“What? You do know I’m talking about me…” I trailed off as I saw him nodding. “How could it not be a big deal?”

“Well…” He had the cheeky glint back in his eye now. “S’not like I’ve never had a quick wank over you. I thought it was just something we did occasionally.”

I stared at him in amazement. I didn’t know what I was more shocked about, the fact that he had just admitted to wanking over me, or the fact that he thought it wasn’t a big deal. I gazed up at him, and it dawned on me; he didn’t care about me like I cared about him. Obviously.

“Noel, it is a big deal to me! I spend every moment I’m around you fantasising about it! I want you so much it hurts, and I can’t stand seeing you with anyone else! When you were with that girl last night, it was killing me, and I…”

Noel sank to his knees and silenced me by pressing his soft lips onto mine firmly. I felt them stay there, pressing into me for a moment, like he was trying to keep me quiet at all costs, before they shifted, opened slightly. I felt his tongue brushing my lips, then urgently pushing through into my waiting mouth. I tasted blood, and was overwhelmed with guilt and lust again. His tongue was sliding over mine, and I began to kiss back, matching his passion and pace.

He was still kneeling before me, and had begun to take advantage of this position. I could feel his hands wandering over my shoulders, my chest, tracing a delicate line down my stomach. It was exactly what I had imagined the previous night, only this time I wouldn’t have to keep my eyes closed for fear of shattering the illusion – it was Noel, really Noel, who was kissing me and touching me.

He began to work his way down, sucking on my neck in a way I knew would leave a mark, then reaching up with his delicate fingers and slowly unbuttoning my shirt. His slid his left hand down over my chest, as his right continued to work on the buttons. I could hear myself moaning his name as he broke the kiss for a second as his pulled my shirt up over my head. He lowered his head down onto my stomach and began tracing his tongue down towards my jeans. I bit my lip and stared up at the ceiling, just as he had done in the club last night.

Suddenly, he pulled away, and I heard myself groaning in disappointment. I stared down at him, searching for an explanation, but when I looked into that perfect face I saw tears welling in his amazing eyes. He was biting his lip, trying to force them back.

“Ju, I’m really sorry. I thought… oh Christ I don’t bloody know. I didn’t know how much you cared. I reckoned it was just a passing crush. That’s all anyone ever seems to have on me.”

This last sentence hit me like a slap in the face. There was such unbelievable sorrow behind his weak smile as he mumbled it. It killed me that he thought I was just as shallow as those girls wanting to get off with him for the night in clubs.

“Noel, it’s not like that.”

He smiled again, but this time it was heartfelt. I almost broke down then and there. This beautiful, androgynous being, who’d always fooled the world into thinking he was happy as a shallow, fuckable socialite, was really living a hollow life, where he was as valued by others as a human accessory. And now he’d found someone who actually wanted him for longer than one night, he was like a child with a new toy. It broke my heart.

I was determined to show him that he meant more to me than that.

Prophet took my hand on all souls’ day,
He preached the values of deception.
Changing shadows by shapeshifter rules.
Tales are never just for fools.

The Court of Concience came before me,
Presenting me with a heavenly angel,
You took my hand and asked me, truths aside,
To his questions I replied:

Do you want the truth or something beautiful?
Just close your eyes and make believe.

Do you want the truth or something beautiful?
I am happy to decieve you.

He stood as tall as redwood trees,
Drank tea from a seamstress thimble.
I didn’t want to speak the honest truth,
So I spit out lies that aimed to soothe:

Do you want the truth or something beautiful?
Just close your eyes and make believe.

Do you want the truth or something beautiful?
I am happy to decieve you.

Secrets, lying, falling veils,
I can be who you want me to be.

Sacred lies and telling tales,
I can be who you want me to be,
But do you want me?

Do you want the truth or something beautiful?
Just close your eyes and make believe.

Do you want the truth or something beautiful?
I am happy to decieve you.

Sacred lies and tellng tales,
I can be who you want me to be,
But do you want me?

But do you want me?


[nextpage title=”Blood Sugar Sex Magic – Red Hot Chilli Peppers”]

Blood Sugar Sex Magic – Red Hot Chilli Peppers

Julian shows Noel what he means to him…

I leant forwards and put my hand on Noel’s cheek, wiping away the streaks of blood and tears. He leant against my hand with closed eyes, and I could feel him trembling. I slipped down onto my knees, so we were on a level, and began running my fingers through his raven hair as I leant in and kissed him. He opened his eyes and stared at me as I pulled away, but I couldn’t read his expression. I buried my face in his hair and whispered into his neck

“You mean more to me than you’ll ever know.”

With this, he grabbed my face in his hands and we began kissing passionately, almost violently, our hands exploring each other’s bodies, seemingly everywhere at once. I reached a hand up to his neck, and stroked my fingers along the line of his jaw as I continued to tug each his hair and mumble his name whenever I had time to breath. My hand felt its way to his neck, and I began to hurriedly unzip his leather jacket.

He pulled his jacket off quickly, to reveal he had nothing on underneath it. I glanced up at his face, and he was biting his lip and staring up at the ceiling with an expression of pure lust, just as he had done in the club last night. I smiled against his naked chest as he leant back on his elbows to give me better access, and continued my journey downwards.

I was going slowly at first, torturing him with every touch of my tongue on his chest and stomach, but I couldn’t maintain my coolness, and I could tell from his grunts and moans, and the way he was jerking upwards and shouting my name, that he couldn’t tolerate it for much longer either. I began fumbling with his ridiculously tight black jeans, tugging them down over his now taught crotch to his ankles, where he kicked them off in a lust-fuelled, desperate frenzy, along with his silver boots.

I immediately ripped his boxers off too, and paused, taking in every detail of his perfect body. Pale skin, dark hair, flat chest, narrow hips, hard cock… well, that was the one thing our bodies had in common at that moment.

“Ju?” I was jolted out of my trance by the sound of my name, and looked up to see him staring down at me, one eyebrow raised and head tilted to the side. I laughed as I realised I’d stopped suddenly and had just been staring at him with no explanation.

“Ha, sorry but, Christ, you’re so beautiful!”

He smiled tenderly at me, but then the softness in his eyes heated and turned to lust, and he placed his hand on the back of neck and began guiding me down once more to where he wanted my head most.

I took hold of him with one hand, and moved my tongue over the tip of his cock. He instantly bucked his hips involuntarily upwards and shouting “Fuck, Julian!”, and I was amazed and turned on all the more by the new-found amount of power I had over him. I repeated the action a few more times, watching him writhe beneath my touch, until he jerked his head up violently and cried out “I need more, Ju! Please!”

I wasn’t going to argue with that, and I smiled as I took more of him into my mouth and began sucking hard, moving my hand up and down to match the rhythm of my bobbing head. It was a strange feeling, unfamiliar to me, but at the same time unbelievably erotic. He was salty and sweet at the same time. It was like his whole body was coated in hot sweat and sugar and, I remembered with a slight shiver, blood.

When I glanced up at him through my hair, I saw that he was no longer staring at the ceiling, but watching me intently, with his chin tilted up and his mouth open, utterly transfixed. He looked stunningly beautiful at that moment, with red, flushed lips and wide blue eyes gazing at me from beneath his back-brushed fringe. The want in his eyes only made me strive to live up to, if not surpass, his expectations even more, and I tilted my head back and raised my chest off the ground. I took in one long, gasping breath, moved my hand out of the way and smoothly slid my mouth right down over his cock until I reached the base. I was impressed that I could take him this far down my throat when it was my first time with a man, and I could see he was just as impressed!

He was clutching at the carpet and panting and shouting my name, and I could tell he was close. I increased my pace, as he began thrusting into my waiting mouth. When I gently ran my teeth all along the base of his cock, he let out a loud cry of “Fuck, Julian! Fuuuuuuck!” and bucked his hips again, forcing me to take him back down my throat. The unearthly noises he was making, and the way he growled my name with every thrust was more than enough to keep me hard!

He clawed his nails along my back as he came hard, and I swallowed around him, slowly drawing my head back up his length as we both gasped for breath. He collapsed backwards onto the floor with a final sigh, and I clambered slowly up his torso, eventually lowering myself onto his hot chest, then sliding off to lie, panting, next to his naked body.

We lay there beside each other in dazed silence for a few minutes, cooling down and taking in what had just happened. I couldn’t believe that, after all the longing and frustration and torment, it had finally happened. All my darkest fantasies had come together in a great whirlwind of lust and heat and magic.

Blood sugar sucker fish in my dish,
How many pieces do you wish?
Step into a heaven where I keep it on the soul side,
Boy please me, be my soul bride.

Every of us has a piece of aphrodite.
Copulate to create a state of sexual light.
Kissing his virginity, my affinity;
I mingle with the gods, I mingle with divinity.

Blood sugar baby, he has it,
Sex magic, sex magic!
Blood sugar baby, he’s magic,
Sex magic, sex magic!
Blood sugar crazy, he has it,
Sex magic, sex magic!
Blood sugar baby, he’s magic,
Sex magic, sex magic!

Glorious euphoria is my must,
Erotic shock is a function of lust.
Temporarily blind, dimensions to discover.
In time each into the other.

Uncontrollable notes from his snow white throat
Fill a space in which two bodies float.
Operatic by voice, a fanatic by choice.
Aromatic as the flower, he must be moist.

Blood sugar baby, he has it,
Sex magic, sex magic.
Blood sugar baby, he’s magic,
Sex magic, sex magic!
Blood sugar crazy, he has it,
Sex magic, sex magic!
Blood sugar baby, he’s magic,
Sex magic, sex magic!

Blood sugar baby, he has it,
Sex magic, sex magic!
Blood sugar baby, he’s magic,
Sex magic, sex magic!
Blood sugar crazy, he has it,
Sex magic, sex magic!
Blood sugar baby, he’s magic,
Sex magic, sex magic!

Blood sugar my boy, he has it,
Sex magic, sex magic!
Blood sugar baby, he’s magic,
Sex magic, sex magic!
Blood sugar crazy, he has it,
Sex magic, sex magic!
Blood sugar baby, he’s magic,
Sex magic, sex magic!


[nextpage title=”As The World Falls Down – David Bowie”]

As The World Falls Down – David Bowie

Julian feels rejected…
I woke alone on my floor, cuddled up to the crumpled shirt which, at first, I had thought was Noel. I yawned and reached out, expecting my finger-tips to touch him at any moment, and feel the relief and warmth flooding over me.

When I didn’t, I opened my eyes lazily, and glanced around the room. I couldn’t see him anywhere, so I called out, “Noel?”, my voice cracking slightly after all the shouting the previous day. There was no reply, and I couldn’t hear anything but the street traffic buzzing outside my window. He was gone, leaving no trace that he had ever been there, except the lingering smell of sugar and sex and cigarettes on the carpet beside me, and patch of dried blood on my shirt from when he’d used it as a pillow. What was going on?

I sat up, suddenly afraid to be without him, and pulled the shirt on over my head hurriedly, breathing in his heady aroma as I did so despite myself. He had left, left me there alone in the cold apartment. I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t take it. I needed to be with him now more than ever, needed to smell him, to taste him, to feel his warmth, and gaze deep into those huge, expressive eyes. Now, and for the rest of my life. I loved him! I thought he loved me…

I could feel hot tears stinging my eyes and blurring my vision for what seemed like the hundredth time over the last three days as I called out to him once again, though I swear my voice was incoherent.

I began to realise just how cold I felt, and pulled the blanket we had slept on tighter around my shoulders, but it did nothing to warm me. It wasn’t the coldness of the room that I could feel chilling me ‘til I was no more than a solid, frozen statue.

Suddenly, I heard a bang outside my front door, followed by a loud “Fuck!” I stood up instantly, stumbling slightly as I attempted to untangle myself from the blanket, and ran for the door. Please, let him have gone to the shops. Let it be him bringing me coffee or breakfast from the café. Let it be him…

I flung the door open. It was him.

But he wasn’t clutching coffee or bagels, he wasn’t even looking at me. He was half way down the stairs, and had banged his shin against the railings. He was standing there rubbing his leg and cursing. He hadn’t heard the door open, or me coming out into the hallway. He was trying to sneak away, pretend it had never happened.

He didn’t love me, and now he couldn’t even look at me. I had lost him forever. I felt as though my world was crashing down around me, leaving me standing in an empty space, with no one to love, and no one who loved me. No one who cared. Every fibre of my being was wrenching at me, my mind screaming for me to run down to him, grab him, fall onto my knees before him and plead with him to stay! Anything! But I couldn’t even breath, let alone move or call down to him.

I watched in frozen silence as he stood up again, and, without looking back, walked out the door at the bottom of the stairs, letting it swing slowly shut behind him. I ran back inside the flat, not bothering to even shut the door. I rushed to the window, leaning my head against the cold glass as I watched him walk down the street, hail a cab, and drive away from me.

I collapsed into a frenzied fit of tears, clawing at the window and sobbing out a string of words that didn’t fit, as I slid down onto the floor, unable to handle what was happening.

There’s such a sad love deep in your eyes.
A kind of pale jewel open and closed
Within your eyes.
I’ll place the sky within your eyes.

There’s such a fooled heart beating so fast
In search of new dreams, a love that will last
Within your heart.
I’ll place the moon within your heart.

As the pain sweeps through,
Makes no sense for you.
Every thrill is gone,
Wasn’t too much fun at all.
But I’ll be there for you,
As the world falls down.

Falling, falling, falling in love.

I’ll paint you mornings of gold, I’ll spin you Valentine evenings.
Though we’re strangers til now,
We’re choosing the path between the stars.
I’ll leave my love between the stars.

As the pain sweeps through,
Makes no sense for you.
Every thrill is gone,
Wasn’t too much fun at all.
But I’ll be there for you,
As the world falls down.

As the world falls down.
As the world falls down.

Falling, falling, falling in love
As the world falls down.

Falling, falling, falling in love
As the world falls down.

Makes no sense at all.
Makes no sense to fall.
As the world falls down.
Falling, falling in love
As the world falls down.
Falling, falling, falling in love,
As the world falls down.


[nextpage title=”Cold Fame – Band Of Skulls”]

Cold Fame – Band Of Skulls

Julian spirals into a new cycle of despair…

I had called him fifty six times with still no answer. It had been three weeks. What was going on?

I was lying on my bedroom floor, surrounded by a hazy mass of empty whisky bottles and cigarette butts. I hadn’t showered since Noel had left and only ventured out of my room in the day to retrieve yet another bottle or pack.

At night I would grab my wallet, which was getting thinner by the day, and stumble out of the house, lumbering heavily through the blur of night clubs and bars and off-license stores, searching. Searching for something to fill the hole his departure had left in my soul. Sex, drugs, booze, anything.

I sighed and took another deep drag of my 5th cigarette that hour, coughing as I did. I didn’t normally smoke more than one or two in a night, and that was when I was out with Noel at a club or something, but I had to stock up on another four packs every night when I left the house.

The previous day and night had been exactly the same as every other of the last three weeks. I had woken from my drunken stupor at four in the afternoon, and realised that I had been sleeping on the hall carpet. I stumbled groggily to the bathroom to inspect the damage done fro yet another night of abuse.

I gazed at my reflection in the poor light. At first, when my spiral of self-deprecation had began, what I saw would have shocked me, but by now it had become just another monotonous, daily occurrence for me to confront, then forget in a haze of smoke and alcohol.

I had an impressive black eye, scratches up and down my left arm, dried blood around my mouth, and, I noticed with slight confusion, an earring. I had no idea how any of this had happened, or even when. It could have all been any time over the last weeks, as every night had now merged into one long string of demeaning and meaningless events.

I stared stupidly at the piercing for a few moments, then leant in towards the mirror and, taking very little care, pulled the diamond stud out and tossed it aside into the heap of crumpled clothes and spilt shampoo bottles.

I staggered back out of the bathroom, and on towards the kitchen. I grabbed a bottle of Smirnoff from the cabinet, then, realising it was empty, threw it over my shoulder, hearing it smash against the tiled floor. I grabbed the bottle of rum which had been behind it, and sank down onto the floor, clutching it to my chest.

I had sat there, leaning heavily against the cupboard behind me, sipping from the bottle and staring into the distance, until I began to feel the cold, at which point I glanced up at the clock.

It was seven o’clock now. Time to go out for another meaningless night of… whatever.

I groped at the kitchen work-surface, holding myself steady as I stood up off the floor, hearing my knees crack and my head thump, as if in protest.

I stumbled to the bedroom, changed my shirt and underwear, leaving the dirty clothes crumpled on my bed, and, snatching my wallet from the bed-side table, fell out the front door towards the darkening street.

I meandered down the street, dipping in and out of clubs and bars, drinking constantly. In the third club I came to, I was standing at the bar ordering Noel’s favourite cocktail for myself, when I heard my name being called. I barely batted an eyelid, and turned slowly round on my bar-stool. A girl stood before me, smiling brightly.

“Julian Barratt?” She asked again shyly.

“Yeah.”

“Oh, wow! Sorry, sorry, but…” She was clearly really excited, and probably trying to find the right way to ask for a fucking photo or autograph without seeming like a star-struck fan. I smiled mirthlessly as I thought to myself how anyone could think there was a way of asking for an autograph without sounding like a fan.

She was staring at me with wide blue eyes through a heavy fringe of dyed black hair. I began to notice a shocking resemblance between her and Noel. A lot of Boosh fans dressed like Noel, and she was no exception. She was wearing grey skinny jeans, silver boots, a tuxedo t-shirt, and it looked like all her jewellery was from tatty Devine. But there was something more; she had the right skin-tone, the right coloured eyes, the right way of loosely moving and ruffling her hair. She could have easily been the female, or at least more female, version of him.

When she asked for a picture, I agreed, then offered to buy her a drink. She giggled, sounding so much like Noel it gave me goose bumps, and accepted. Before I’d downed my second cocktail, we were getting off at the bar. By the third, she was pulling me towards the club bathroom.

I followed her dumbly, bumping into strangers and spilling drinks on the way. She wrenched me into one of the cubicles, and was on her knees tugging my jeans down round my calves before I even understood what was happening. I was too pissed to stop it or enjoy it, so I just stood there, thinking of anything but Noel.

As she stood up, wiping her mouth with a mixed look of shock and excitement, I asked her flatly “Do you… um… have anything?” She smiled even more broadly.

“Johnnies or Pills?”

“Fuck it, either…”

She turned and reached into her bag, pulling out two little plastic packets. One was labelled Durex; the other just had a few little white pills in it. I grabbed the second packet, tipped out 3 into the palm of my hand, and downed them dry.

She looked shocked at first as she watched me intently, then smiled again, taking the packet from me and doing the same.

“Now…” She pressed up against me, biting her lip. “Other packet?”

The whole club was a spiral of neon and voices as we spun through the heaving, sweating crowd to the door. Street, cab, home, door, floor, fuck.

I woke the next morning, and watched from the couch as she packed up her scattered clothes, made a cup of tea, and left.

I stayed on the couch thinking hard for an hour or so. She looked like Noel, she moved like Noel, she even smelt like Noel. But she wasn’t. She didn’t make the same noises as he did when she came. She didn’t scrape her nails along my back and bite her lip and stare at the ceiling like he did. She didn’t growl my name and give me goose bumps like him. She couldn’t replace a night with him. No one could.

I had never felt so lonely.

Surely he would talk to me if I went over to his?

I had to see him, but what would I say? I wanted to tell him that I loved him, that I couldn’t live without him, that without him I was an empty, hollow shell, just breathing and fucking and drinking, nothing else.

But now I knew he didn’t care about me at all, and regretted anything we’d ever done, there was no way I could ever tell him that, could I?

But I had to see him. I had to find out why he had left that day, why he had refused to talk to me since, why he didn’t care about me at all…

I deserved that at least.

What’s the point of fame if it’s been abused?
What’s a kid like me even got to lose?
Here I am on your bed again
It’s too big for the room it’s in.

Wash your face and mouth just a little bit,
Everybody knows that you’re good at it.
But nothing hurts like an answer phone,
Drinking some, waking up alone.

Maybe if I try just a little more,
I can take myself from this dirty floor.
Walk through buildings of elegance,
Just like you are intelligent.

But still I fall from grace with this microphone,
How’d you find yourself if you never roam?
Certainly I’m indebted baby, certainly, certainly…

I know my place, but it don’t know me.
I know my place, but it don’t know me.

No one wants to hear that you’re breaking up,
It wasn’t long ago we said start me up.
Now all your dreamin’ will have to wait,
What you deserve you’ll anticipate.

Play your 45 with this late at night,
Open all the windows, turn out the light.
Mysterious creatures will fill the room,
A midnight show just put on for you.

But still I fall from grace with this microphone,
How’d you find yourself if you never roam?
Certainly I’m indebted baby, certainly, certainly…

I know my place, but it don’t know me.
I know my place, but it don’t know me.

Cold fame in my brain, but it’s okay cause I know it’s the best for me.
Cold fame in my brain, but it’s okay cause I know it’s the best for me.
Cold fame in my brain, but it’s okay cause I know it’s the best for me.
Cold fame in my brain, but it’s okay cause I know it’s the best for me.
Cold fame in my brain, but it’s okay cause I know it’s the best for me.


[nextpage title=”Don’t Let The Sun Go Down On Me – Roger Daltrey”]

Don’t Let The Sun Go Down On Me – Roger Daltrey

reality hits…
I arrived at his apartment, and hammered on the door. I didn’t care if he didn’t want to see me, I had to see him! I called out to him, “Noel? It’s me… please, please let me in! I have to see you! I need you! Noel? NOEL?!” I slammed my fist against the door in frustration, and it swung open with a rattle. Noel never left the door open, what was going on?

As I entered his apartment, my feeling that something wasn’t right was growing stronger by the minute. There were clothes strewn about the floor, amongst empty bottles of vodka and little blue packets, and the whole place stunk of smoke. Clearly, he had been living a similar life-style to me for the past few days.

I heard something snap beneath my foot, looked down and saw a shattered glass syringe. I shivered. Noel hadn’t taken acid or coke in ages, but he had never, ever injected before.

“What have you been doing to yourself?” I wondered aloud, pausing to kick aside a rumpled t-shirt, revealing yet more empty bottles and packets.

“Noel?” I called out again, my voice faltering slightly as my panic rose. I began frantically running down the hall. I flung open his bedroom door, but he wasn’t in there. I burst into the next room, the lounge, but there was no sign of him. I continued on my frenzied search through all the rooms in the flat, calling out his name all the while.

Suddenly I stopped. I stepped slowly up to the bathroom door, and turned the handle.

“Noel! I know you’re in there! Come out, please! Please, I have to see you!”

“Just… leave, Julian.”

His voice should have been such a relief to me, but it sounded awful. It was husky and cracked, with none of the enthusiasm he usually emanates, or even the attitude he has when he’s pissed off. It was straight, matter-of-fact. It gave me a shudder.

I slammed my body against the door, desperate to get in. On my third attempt, the hinges trembled, and on my fourth, fell out completely. I tor the useless door out of my way and threw it to one side.

What I saw will be burned into my mind for eternity. Noel was there, naked, lying against the sink, looking directly at me, but his eyes weren’t focussed. He looked deathly pale, even whiter than normal, but his face was expressionless. I couldn’t understand what was happening for the first few seconds, why he was lying so still, looking almost dead. Had he overdosed?

Then I saw the blood. A great pool of luminous scarlet, clashing against his whiteness. It was pouring out of his wrists as his arms lay flatly by his side. What had he done? At first I couldn’t see anything but the man I love slowly bleeding to death before me, and then I saw the razor blades lying next to his outstretched hands, and I realised. The image swam before my eyes as I felt my head swell with burning tears, turning everything into Technicolour, where the white and the red burned my eyes with their intensity.

I could hardly tear myself away from the horrific image of him lying there for a moment, the thought of leaving him there on the bathroom floor made me feel sick, but I had no choice. I turned and rushed to the phone in the hallway. My hands were trembling so severely that I could barely punch the numbers in. 999.

“Hello? Yes, I need an ambulance right now! Flat no. 7… 7! 7, Camden High Street… What? It’s my… my friend! He’s… he slit his wrists… I… He’s dying….” I couldn’t say anymore, I broke down in a shivering mass and let the receiver drop down next to my shaking hands. I could just make out the woman on the other end saying they’d be there shortly.

I staggered back to the bathroom and gathered his body up in my arms. His breath was coming in rattling gasps, and as he slowly turned his deep blue eyes to look at me for the first time, they seemed to have a little less light in than usual. The innocence and happiness were gone, and they were coldly staring in a way I’d never seen before. It tore at my soul. What had happened to make him do this?

I gazed down at him, and bent low, sobbing almost incoherently into his neck “I love you, Noel, I love you! Don’t leave me!” I no longer cared if he didn’t feel the same, he needed him to know how much I loved him. He looked up at me through the black hair which was sticking to his moist forehead. He mouthed something, and I leant in close to hear him. I buried my face in his sweet-smelling hair and breathed in deeply. Tears cascaded down my face onto my chest, my arms, his hair, his face. His perfect face. I trembled as I thought that I may never smell him again, never taste him, never hold his body against mine like I would never let go, never gaze deep into his beautiful eyes and see them boring back into my soul with such intense emotion that it was hard to tell whether it was love, lust or fear.

He whispered, barely audible, “Ju… I love you.”

Barely audible, but I heard him.

As he finished the last gasping word, his eyelids fell shut, and he began breathing shallowly. I felt as though his soul was slipping through my outstretched fingers as the blood seeped from his open veins. As I held him, I swore could feel his spirit passing through me, merging the two of us into one entity.

“Take mine.” I whispered into his chest. “Please, God, take my soul and give it to him, but, Christ, don’t let him die!” As I sobbed out this desperate prayer to a God I’d never believed in until now, I could felt his body going limp, his beautiful soul trickling away, leaving me crouched and trembling on the bathroom floor, clutching the body of the love of my life, my tears merging with his blood in a rapidly growing pool beneath us.

His unique, feminine smell was fading away to give way to the lingering smell alcohol and smoke, and I felt like I was fading away with it, every emotion in my body draining out with my tears, until I was sure I was nothing more then an empty, hollow shell. He had always been the light and warmth in my otherwise cold life.

I clutched hims head to my chest, shaking uncontrollably.

“Don’t let the sun go down on me.”

I can’t light no more of your darkness,
All my pictures seem to fade to black and white.
I’m growing tired, and time stands still before me.
Frozen here on the ladder of my life.

Too late to stop myself from falling.
I took a chance and changed your way of life.
But you misread my meaning when I met you,
Closed the door and left me blinded by the light.

Don’t let the sun go down on me.
Although I search myself it’s always someone else I see.
I just allowed a fragment of your life to wander free,
But losing everything is like the sun going down on me.

I can’t find the right romantic line.
See me once and see the way I feel.
Don’t discard me just because you think I mean you harm,
But these cuts I have, they need love to help them heal.

Don’t let the sun go down on me.
Although I search myself it’s always someone else I see.
I just allowed a fragment of your life to wander free,
Cause losing everything is like the sun going down on me.

Don’t let the sun go down on me
Although I search myself, it’s always someone else I see.
I just allowed a fragment of your life to wander free, to wander free,
Losing everything is like the sun going down on me.


[nextpage title=”Land of a Thousand Words – Scissor Sisters”]

Land of a Thousand Words – Scissor Sisters

words can mean everything…
I woke to the sound of his heavy breathing. The delicate sound flooded me with relief and warmth, and I opened my eyes slightly, peering out the window cautiously, as though if I woke up too quickly the beautiful sound would shatter, and I’d be left in the biting silence once again.

I have no idea what time it was, but through the thick hospital glass I could see it was still dark, the blackness punctuated every now and then by a pool of orange brightness, pouring from an overhead street light or passing car. It couldn’t have been after 4 in the morning. I’d been asleep for 3 hours at most, but I didn’t care. He was alive, and being taken care of. That’s what mattered.

As I continued to gaze out from the chair beside his bed, which I had refused to be moved from throughout the night by various nurses, the occasional streaks of orange passing over my unblinking eyes, the previous nights events began to come back to me, little by little, as if my mind was trying at all costs to dissolve the traumatic memory before I had a chance to see it…

I had knelt on the cold bathroom floor of Noel’s apartment, shaking and whispering into his neck until the ambulance had arrived. It had only taken around ten minutes in hindsight, but when you’re clasping the dying body of the man you love, each second stretches out, like trying to run in a nightmare.

It was a nightmare, in every respect. I kept trying to trick myself into waking up next to Noel on my lounge carpet, reaching desperately for any shred of hope that none of this was happening. It couldn’t be happening.

But, as the paramedics pried my hands off his body and lowered him gently onto a stretcher, reality did begin to rear its ugly head, and as I watched him being wheeled out of his flat, carving a line through the heaps of scattered bottles and clothes, I began hyperventilating, and blacked out…


I was in a small white room, with no furniture, and nothing filling the empty space but my own huddled form. I looked up, and the ceiling disappeared above me, flying higher and higher the more I tried to focus on it, until it eventually disappeared into the shadows, high above me.

I looked back down at the ground, feeling dizzy and sick, and began peering at the four walls that surrounded me, counting the tiles.

Suddenly, I heard a loud bang behind my head, and spun round to see a door that I hadn’t noticed before. It was stainless steel, and had a small sliding hatch at the top, with bars across it for safe measure. It began to dawn on me that I was in a lunatic asylum, a theory which was confirmed as I tried to push myself up with my arms and found them wrapped tightly around me, fastened in a roll of white linen and leather buckles.

I began to cry out, not knowing or hearing what I was saying, but merely twisting my mouth into familiar shapes and screaming apparently meaningless, incoherent sounds.

The hatch in my door began to slide open, and two eyes, almost golden in colour, with black where the white should have been, were glaring in at me through the bars.
“Stop it!” the person who owned the cold eyes hissed.
“He’s not here.”
Who’s not? I screamed in my mind, as my voice remained detached from me, as if it was under some else’s control.
As if in answer to my silent, desperate question, the eyes disappeared to be replaced a moment later by two snarling lips, pressing through the bars.
“Noel. Stop calling him, he’s not here. He’s dying.”
With that the hatch slammed shut, the noise echoing round me infinite cell.

I turned my head, staring blankly at the wall opposite. As I was gazing at it, I began to notice that it wasn’t flat, like I had first suspected. there was a small, uneven lump protruding from the corner. As I watched this strange mound, it began to shift slightly, turning towards me. I began to see other colours against the blinding whiteness. Black, red and blue, not in any distinct pattern at first, just blurry balls of light, dancing before my eyes, but coming together slowly to form the most beautiful face I had ever seen.

The black twisted and spun, stretching out into shaggy feather-like fronds. The red melted into two pouting lips. The blue, at first hidden behind the black spikes, began growing brighter and took the form of two eyes, just as piercing as the satanic yellow and black ones from behind the door, but softer and more child like than anyone could imagine. They were his eyes, without a doubt, boring out at me from beneath the ruffled fringe of blackness.

They began to fill the entire cell with bright blue light, wiping away the clinical whiteness, and soothing me like a cool mist. Everything as going to be ok…

Suddenly, the beautiful, hypnotising blueness was shattered, as cracks began running up and down the walls, blinding lights of every colour pouring in, along with sounds, shouts, sirens.


My eyes snapped open, but were immediately slammed shut again without warning, as I felt a sharp slap on my cheek, followed by someone shouting my name in a voice I didn’t recognise.
“Julian? Julian Barratt?”

I opened my eyes again, cautiously this time. Two faces loomed above me, both of which I recognised as paramedics from earlier.
“You alright? You passed out.” The left face said, looking concerned.
I mumbled something that they took as a yes, and both faces immediately disappeared, returning to whatever bodies they had been occupying before I distracted them. as I began to grow aware of my surroundings I realised I was lying on a bench in an ambulance, surrounded by paramedics in green scrubs crowding around a stretcher in the centre of the vehicle, shouting things like
“Oxygen, now!” and
“More bandages.”

My head was still swimming from my dream, and I couldn’t understand what was going on for a few moments, but, as I sat up slowly, images jumped into my mind with so much velocity I couldn’t separate what I was seeing before me and what was memory.

Noel’s flat, syringes, breaking down doors, hinges, Noel on the floor, blood, razor blades, more blood, phone, Noel, more blood, dying…

As the horrific images pounded my head like a sledge hammer, each blow bring with it another scene of death and blood, I began to realise exactly what was happening. I was in the ambulance which was taking Noel to the hospital.

We arrived a few minutes later, rushing though doors, wards, lifts, corridors. Nurses and Doctors were speeding in and out, changing all the time. Eventually I was told I had to go to the waiting room, and after some arguments and shouting on my part, I gave in.

As I sat for hours on end with my head gripped in my trembling hands, I contemplated calling Noel’s Mum and Dad, or Mike, but as I doubted he’d ever want them to know.

He’d be discharged tomorrow, and then go back to his life, never letting anyone but me know about what had happened over the last few weeks.

When a someone finally came down and told me I could see him, I was a mess; my eyes were swollen and rubbed raw, my hair was wet with ice-cold sweat and tears, and tangled from my hands constantly running through it, and I’d bitten my nails right back.

When we finally reached his room, I barely recognised him. His hair had been pushed back off his now almost transparent face, his eyeliner was smudged right down his porceline cheeks, his lips had lost all their colour. He looked dead, and completely not like Noel.

The same Nurse who had brought me to his room asked me for his details, and how I was related to him. I whispered
“Noel. Fielding. I’m his best friend, Julian Barratt.”
She gasped and jumped a little, her eyes lighting up, but immediately composed herself as I gazed blankly up at her through my moist fringe.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” She said immediately said, looking shocked with herself.
“I just… Oh Christ!” I could see she was visibly shaken, and even thought I saw tears welling in her eyes as she looked at Noel over the top of her clip-board.

She didn’t look like the typical Boosh fan, no coloured streaks through her hair, though it was feathered, no Camden Market-style accessories, but as she stretched her arm out, which was shaking slightly, I noticed the Boosh logo tattooed on her wrist. I smiled weakly at her when I saw this, and she smiled back, and there were definitely tears in both our eyes now.

She left after a few minutes, and I turned and collapsed into the chair beside his bed, pulling it close, and just sat there, watching him sleep until I eventually did too, many hours later…

I sighed as I came out of my reverie, and turned my head away from the window to look at him, taking in the bandages around his wrists, the machines monitoring his heart rate, the cold, clinical bed sheets, so different to the soft, colourful ones he was used to at home. I looked up at his face, expecting to see him sleeping peacefully, but when I did, I was confronted by 2 huge staring blue eyes, boring to my soul, smiling at me.

“Alright, Ju?” he whispered with a weak grin, his voice cracking.

Tears welled in my eyes. He sounded like a sleepy child waking up on the morning of their birthday, not a grown man who’d tried to kill himself not 24 hours before.

I cannot describe the relief that flooded me as I heard his voice, with all its innocence and charm and character back in it. I wanted to just scoop him up in my arms and take him home, and forget any of this ever happened. We could just go back to that beautiful day when we had slept side by side, exhausted from our love making. Fuck, we could go back to before that, and I’d be alone in a club, watching him get off with Meg or Megan or something. Anything! I just wanted with all my heart to forget all of this, to pretend it had never happened. But I had to know…

“Noel… “ I kept my eys locked on his intently, but heard my voice wavering slightly. “Why?”

He sighed, and his eyes flicked around my face briefly, before coming to rest on mine once more.
“I couldn’t stand it, Ju…” His face was serious now, and I wondered whether he was about to break my heart again.
“You couldn’t stand what? Being with me? Having me love you?” I stood up and began to pace around the foot of his bed, unable to stay still. I could feel myself beginning to tremble again, and I didn’t want him to see it.
“God, no, Ju! I… I couldn’t stand loving you… so much…” His voice broke as he said this.

I stopped pacing, and turned to look him in the face. There were tears in his eyes, and he was reaching out to me. I walked round to him and sat back in my chair next to his bed, taking his hand in mine, careful to avoid the bandaged wrists.

“You… What?” I could feel my own eyes pricking with scalding tears now.
“You didn’t think I loved you back? I was the one who… who told you…” My voice trailed away as I realised what I had told him. I had never said love. I had told him that I wanted him, that I needed him. I never had the courage to tell him how I really felt until I thought he was dying before my eyes.

My tears began falling thick and fast, and I couldn’t look at him anymore. I buried my face in my hands.
“You didn’t know I loved you back… because I never told you. You did all this because you thought I was… I was like all the others. Just… just wanting you for the moment…” I broke down as my emotions flooded me, and I felt him squeeze my hands gently.

I wiped my eyes roughly on my sleeve, and looked up at him again. He was smiling at me through his tears.
“Now I know.”

I threw my arms around him, and collapsed into his warm embrace as I began crying uncontrollably. He pulled away and stared into my eyes, searching my face to see whether they were tears of happiness or despair. I didn’t know myself. All I knew was that it was all going to be ok now.

We had held each other silently until the first murky rays of morning sun crept in through the window, lighting up the tears on his eyelashes. I couldn’t hear him breathing now, but I could still feel his light body rising and falling against mine, in perfect harmony to my own heavy breaths. He felt so much smaller and more fragile than I ever remembered him being, like he was about to slip through my fingers and float away forever.

I tightened my grip on him as I thought this despite myself, wrapping my arms right round him, like I was protecting him from the dirty grey light, which was bringing with it all the ugly, painful shit from the outside world, the world that had made this happen, the world that tried to take him from me.

I reached up and touched his face, checking to see if he was still there, still noel. He sighed as my hand brushed his cheek, and I pulled away, not wanting to wake him again, but he wasn’t asleep. His eyes opened effortlessly, and he was gazing at me, not with the flirtatious mixture of lust and innocence I was used to seeing in him, but with a new mixture, a strange one, that felt both unfamiliar and exciting to me.

But as I stared deep into the curious eyes, it dawned on me that it wasn’t a mixture at all. It was one solid emotion, washing away all other little gimmicks hidden inside his strange mind, and the reason it was unnerving to me was that I had never seen Noel so concentrated, so focussed on one thing, one feeling. Everything he said and did was tinged with amusement, or confusion, or lust. Even when he was screaming, you could see the rage being permeated with his childishness, his ability to be distracted by anything new.

But this was different. Nothing was seeping through, there was no subconscious joke lingering in the back of his mind, no hint of confusion or curiosity, no flicker of red hot lust darting across his face making my head swim and my body tingle. This was absolute and unquestionable. This was pure love, and I felt it washing over me, pouring out of those blue orbs, just like the calming mist in my dream. Only this was a real, solid emotion, and wasn’t about to be shattered by bright lights and two happy-slapping paramedic faces.

There was no way in hell of mistaking that look for anything else, and I couldn’t help but frown as I wondered whether I’d ever given him the same look. I was sure I had, so many times, but if that was true how could he not have known how I felt? Wasn’t that the look he’d caught me giving him that day I his room when this all started? Wasn’t it the look that had let Dee know I loved him too that night? Wasn’t it the look I’d felt in my own eyes whenever he was near me, and had to force myself to wipe of my features? Or was that a different look, of guilt and suppressed desire, which I tried to used to hide my true feelings, even from myself?

I sighed, feeling more ashamed of myself than I ever have before. Everything about how I had treated him screamed suppressed lust, not love. Everything I said had a shallow undertone of “I only want you for the night. I don’t give a fuck about you, but you are fucking hot.” All my glances at him that he caught were guilty and dirty, looks of want and jealousy, not love. No wonder this happened. I was too much of a coward to tell him I loved him, even through a look.

Another constellation dies,
Do what you want cause it’s your own sky.
Just call me when the phone stops ringing,
Thanks for stopping by.
I’m just glad I’m on your good side.
Where it’s smoldering or freezing,
It’s never all that easy to decide.

This is the land of a thousand words,
But it seems so few are worth the breath to say,
Except I’ll be looking after my own world,
And you just keep on saving the day.
I’ll try to stay but it’s in vain when you’re far.
I’m on the run to wherever you are.

And that’s the nature of the chase;
You fall so far behind you end in first place.
Pass the torch this time we’re running,
To each their own regret.
There’s no harm in playing hard to get.
Boundlessness deceives me,
Baby you may turn the corner yet.

This is the land of a thousand words,
But it seems so few are worth the breath to say,
Except I’ll be looking after my own world,
You just keep on saving the day.
I’ll try to stay but it’s in vain when you’re far,
I’m on the run to wherever you are.


[nextpage title=”With A Little Help From My Friends – Joe Cocker”]

With A Little Help From My Friends—Joe Cocker

Noel begins his recovery…
It was two days after this that Noel left hospital, after a blood transfusion, stitches in both wrists, and being put on a course of antibiotics to fight infection. He’d also had to agree to a few sessions with the hospital psychologist, but assured me that he’d be skipping most of his weekly sessions. This had concerned me at first, but he had pointed out that sitting and talking about his childhood with a “fifty-year-old woman with cropped hair and knuckle-duster rings” would probably disturb her more than help him.

He was looking almost back to his old self now. He was still paler than normal, with dark circles under his eyes, but hid it well beneath the giant sunglasses and sparkly T-shirt he’d made me fetch for him as he swaggered out the front entrance to be met by a crowd of paparazzi, flashing the cameras flirty smiles and pouts as he laughed and briefly told the nearest reporter something along the lines of “Too much partying.” Clearly, word had got out about his hospitalisation, as you’d expect in London, but no one knew the real reason, and I could tell he wanted to keep it that way.

His Mum had called while he was still being treated, and he had told her not to worry, that he had got a bit too drunk and his Gilbert’s Syndrome had played up. She seemed to accept this, only giving him a brief half hour lecture about being responsible, during which he’d put the phone on the table next to his bed, and shouted “Yeah, I know” and “Sorry, Mum” at it at regular intervals. I couldn’t help but smile at his rolling eyes and child-like pouting, exactly like a little boy being scolded by his mother.

Mike had called too, and I’d left him alone in his room for this, letting him have the painful discussion in private, knowing the conversation would be long and hard and that Noel would eventually tell his brother what had really happened, but knowing that Noel would tell me everything afterwards.

When I left the hospital for the first time since entering it, I’d not known what to do or where to go. I didn’t want to go home, knowing that I’d be confronted with the self-loathing chaos I’d left there. I didn’t want to go out, as the idea of being recognised and asked for autographs was unbearable. There was only one place I could think of to go. It was the first address that came out of my mouth when the cab driver asked me where I wanted to go. Noel’s apartment.

It was so strange to be in his flat again, even though it had only been a day since I’d hammered on his door and burst in to be confronted with the sight I now saw before me. Bottles and plastic packets scattered amongst heaps of clothes, a strong smell of smoke and sex hitting me in the face. It made me gag emptily and my head whirl, but it wasn’t the sight or smell, it was the memory of the last time I’d been here, and what I’d found.

I decided that, as I was here, I should maybe clear up a bit, so Noel had a nice place to return to when he was discharged, and it would give me something to do other than stand in his doorway, head spinning from the sickening memories that flooded it.

I shut the door, and began picking up clothes and piling them on the kitchen work surface, the place which was least heaped with bottles. Once the clothes were out the way, only bottles, packets, cigarette butts, as well as the needles and syringes which I’d forgotten about until then, were all that remained spread across the apartment, blocking the floor from sight.

I stuffed the remnants of Noel’s psychological breakdown into a few plastic bin bags, carefully putting the needles and syringes inside the bottles first, and heaped them by the door, then walked across the newly emerged floor, opened the windows to try and reduce the lingering, unhealthy smell, then flopped on the couch, exhausted from the effort.

Glancing at my watch, I realised I’d been wading through the sea of chaos for over an hour now, and had only finished clearing out two rooms. I ran my fingers through my sweaty hair, hauled my tired frame off the couch, and took my cleaning rampage on into Noel’s bedroom, which, to my mild relief, was in slightly better condition than the lounge and kitchen, with the clothes heaped together in the corner, and the bottles and packs stacked next to the bed, I guessed for ease of access.

I cleaned furiously for another half hour or so, tearing through the remaining rooms in a frenzy of scrubbing and folding and sorting, hacking at anything in sight with Hoovers and wet cloths and flinging any useless items clogging up the floor into the black bin bag I was clutching like a shield, carefully putting any pieces of paper with drawings o paintings to one side.

Only one room remained now, the bathroom. There it was at the end of the hall, door shut but with the hinges still loose, making my insides twist, and I felt a sick panic rising in my stomach. I knew what would be in there, but I couldn’t face it. I turned to go, but I felt an invisible force gripping me, not allowing me to leave without confronting what was hiding behind that door..

I dropped the black bag I was holding, and took a step forwards, turning the door handle slowly. It swung open, juddering on the cracked hinges, impossibly slow, and I closed my eyes and took in a deep, choked breath. My eyes opened reluctantly, and I glanced cautiously into my nightmare. I was expecting what I saw, but nothing could have prepared me for it.

The room was tidy, clinically so, with everything in it’s own place, in line with everything around it. There were no empty bottles of shampoo in the shower, no eyeliner pencil stubs around the sink, no smudges of mascara on the walls. This was unnerving enough, as nothing could have been less like Noel, but what really shook me was what I saw on floor, bringing with the image I had been trying to press to the back of my mind and forget forever.

There it was, the vast pool of dried blood covering half the tiled floor, with a scattered box of razor blades along with blood saturated tissues.

I blanched at the sight of it, and fell to my knees, shaking as I relived the horrendous moment when I first saw this scene unfolding before me.

I stared at the razor blades, lying there on floor so casually, completely unaware of the beautiful life that they almost coldly cut apart.

I breathed in again and staggered to my feet, clutching the sides of the sink with white knuckles so I didn’t black out again. I bent low and, in one fast movement so I didn’t have to think about what I was doing too much, I grabbed up the razors and tissues and tossed them into the little bin next to the toilet, tearing off more bunches toilet paper hurriedly and throwing them into the bin on top of the evil blades, blocking them from view.

I turned back round and glanced towards the floor, knelt down slowly, and began scrubbing at the stain on the floor with the wet cloth which was still clutched tightly in my hands.

I scrubbed and scraped at the awful stain until my knuckles were grazed and my fingers were raw and my arms were burning and vibrating with exertion, but I was determined not to stop until every drop of spilt blood was gone forever, as if this would erase the facts too.

I left the flat an hour later, taking with me the three black bags I’d filled while there, as well as the little plastic bag from the bathroom bin, and flinging them all into the dumpster round the corner. Once this was done, I felt a little better, like all the shit in those bags had been clogging up my mind as well as Noel’s apartment.

I hailed a cab and drove back to the hospital, feeling better the further I got from his flat.

By the time I arrived in his room, he was off the phone with Mike, and Noel was sitting in silence, waiting for me. He smiled broadly when he saw me, and asked where I’d gone. I shrugged and mumbled something like “home”, and this seemed to satisfy him, as he nodded slowly, then sighed and began slowly telling me what he’d talked about with his brother.

“I told him everything. Took ages. We only got off the phone a few minutes before you arrived.”

“Everything?” I was shocked for a moment, but then Noel shook his head sadly and looked up at the ceiling, sighing heavily.

“Well, not about us. I couldn’t tell him that.”

“Oh.”

“Not like I’m embarrassed… it’s just, you know… couldn’t lay too many things on him in one day. He’s only little…” He paused, then laughed out loud and so did I. It was the first time we’d laughed together in so long, and it was amazing. It felt like solid light had engulfed us, shining into us and blocking out all the darkness of the last few weeks.

“I said it was just me. Told him about the drugs and sex and stuff, and how hard I was finding it to cope with it, plus the fame, and that in the end, it all just took over me, and I felt like I was drowning in it. Like it was killing me. And I just wanted it all to end, so thought I’d help it along a bit…”

He trailed off, and I could see tears in his eyes again, making the blue shine all the more fiercely. I squeezed his hand gently, and he bit his lip and looked at me, his childlike innocence returning with a vengeance. I knew how hard it must’ve been to tell his brother that.

“Mike was amazing, though. He was really understanding, and he listened. Course, he panicked, and he went all shocked and quiet, but in the end… he was brilliant.”

“Are you glad you told him?” I gazed at him, concern creasing my face as I watched the tears rolling down his angular cheeks. He nodded hard.

“Yeah.”

He’d told Mike he’d be out the next day, and not to worry about coming to see him, but after some true brotherly arguing, he’d finally agreed to letting him come, making him promise to “not tell Mum.”

“When’s he coming?”

“Said he’d be here in about an hour.”

“Do you want me to stay when he comes?”

“Um… stay and talk to him for a bit, yeah, then, could we maybe talk alone for a while? Him and me, I mean.”

He looked concerned as he mumbled this last bit, like he was worried he’d hurt my feelings. I smiled and bent low over him, kissing him gently on the cheek, tasting his salty tears as I did so.

“That’s fine, Noel. Do you want me to get you anything? Clothes?”

He nuzzled into my neck and entwined me in his long arms, smiling tenderly through his, even now, perfectly styled fringe.

I’d stayed for a few minutes when Mike arrived, mostly sitting in silence as Mike hugged his brother repeatedly and paced round the foot of the bed, tears tinting his eyes every now and again, but I soon left again, this time going to Noel’s to fetch him a very specific collection of clothes and toiletries:

—leather ‘Charles of London’ jacket with feathers
—grey ‘Top Shop’ jeans (the really tight ones, not the tight ones)
—gold ‘Office’ boots
—black ‘Live Fast Die Young’ T—shirt
—any pants
—big green sunglasses
—‘Rimmel’ eyeliner pencil
—hairspray
—‘Bed Head’ hair wax
—silver guitar necklace
—BLACK LEATHER WRIST BANDS (2)

I guessed these last items were in capitals because it was particularly essential that no one saw his wrists when he was due to leave the next day, which still had stitches in them and had clearly been intentionally slit.

I spent as little time as possible in the bathroom collecting the eyeliner, hairspray and wax, as the white room reminded me all too much of the image of the dark red stain I’d removed that morning. I shuddered as I closed the door behind me for the second time that day, and went into his bedroom to rummage through the neatly folded piles of colour and texture to find the requested clothes.

By the time I returned to the hospital, it was getting dark, but Mike hadn’t left yet. Both he and Noel seemed to be in a better mood than when I’d left, and Mike was sitting casually on the edge of the bed, laughing hysterically at his brother, who appeared to be doing his superb impression of Mick Jagger playing tennis.

I entered the room and flopped down in the chair next to Noel’s bed, dumping the pile of clothes and make-up next to me on the floor. The atmosphere was casual and warm, and I could feel the tension in my own body melting away as I watched their brotherly closeness and shared family jokes. It was a truly beautiful moment to be a part of, and I knew then that Noel would recover quickly, with a little help from his friends.

What would you do if I sang out of tune,
Would you stand up and walk out on me?
Lend me your ears and I’ll sing you a song,
I will try not to sing out of key.

I get by with a little help from my friends,
I get high with a little help from my friends,
Gonna try with a little help from my friends.

What do I do when my love is away,
Does it worry you to be alone? Oh no.
How do I feel by the end of the day,
Are you sad because you’re on your own? Oh no.

I get by with a little help from my friends,
I get high with a little help from my friends,
Gonna try with a little help from my friends.

Do you need anybody?
I need someone to love.
Could it be anybody?
All I need is someone who knows just what I’m feeling.

I get by with a little help from my friends,
I get high with a little help from my friends,
Gonna try with a little help from my friends.

Would you believe in a love at first sight?
Yes, I’m certain that it happens all the time.
What do you see when you turn out the light?
I can’t tell you but I know it’s mine.

Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends,
I get high with a little help from my friends,
Gonna try with a little help from my friends.

Do you need anybody?
I just need someone to love.
Could it be anybody?
I want somebody to love.

Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends,
Gonna try with a little help from my friends.


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