nan_some-kind-of-bliss-8

SOME KIND OF BLISS by Nan <<< part 7

PART 8 - EVERYBODY HURTS (Hate to use an REM title, but it best suits the mood)

When you wake up, James is already gone, but he's left a note for you, telling you to come round the studio later in the afternoon. You smile and decide to take a bath and just spoil yourself for the entire morning. And I'll let James spoil me in the afternoon, you think to yourself as you merrily hop to the bathroom…
Your day passes as usual and at five in the afternoon you take a cab to meet James at the studio. You notice there are a lot of people about with cameras, and silly you, you figure that they're just tourists taking in the sights.
However, when you step out of the vehicle, you're surrounded by them taking pictures and asking you questions. For the first time you notice they have reporter IDs attached to their suits and you try to make it into the building as fast as you can, ignoring them, but they're every where and you can't move, so you stop and try to explain that you're no one important and that you're just trying to get in there to see a friend.
"Who's the friend?" tall guy, glasses, beard
"Anyone we know?" woman, irritating voice
"The Manics are recording the new album. Perhaps James?" you look at the guy, trying to give him your best 'look of death', but he doesn't seem to notice
"We hear James Dean Bradfield has been around the town…" the woman quizzes, her eyes sparkling
You look at her viciously.
"Ah, a soft spot!" she exclaims and grabs her pencil
"How long have you been seeing him, miss?" someone who looks a lot like Daniel Booth.
"Is he really as promiscuous as his reputation will tell you?"
"Any wedding bells?"
You just have to laugh at that last accusation and the reporters seriously write something down.
A lot of more or less feeble comments follow, until you finally have enough and push through them, your face red, your eyes sparkling.
You have a wonderful day with the guys at the studio and later James takes you out to dinner, so you forget all about the reporters. James walks you to your apartment and kisses you goodnight, a long lingering kiss. You can feel him holding back and you smile as he pulls away, silently thanking him.
You go to sleep that night, more peaceful than you have been in months, you can still taste James on your lips, his hands in your hair (definitely a fetish!). Before he says goodnight you make plans to meet for lunch tomorrow and then he leaves, looking back twice before entering the elevator and disappearing into the night.
The next morning, however, proves to be hell, pure and simple.
You get up and take a shower, happily singing 'Can't take my eyes off you', imagining James' naked body, so much so even, that you have to turn the water to cold before you get too excited!
You make yourself some breakfast and coffee, drinking it from James' cup, of course. You know it's silly, but it just makes you feel closer to him. You find out that you're out of some groceries so you decide to go shopping and you're making a shopping list as your eyes involuntarily drift over to the living room and rest on the sofa. You remember how you screamed when you found James sleeping on it. You nearly drop the coffee cup as you grin like a cat and suddenly decide to take your breakfast in the living room.
You go to the supermarket and you're on your way out, just checking if you have everything when you notice the newsstand. Hm, maybe something to read before my lunch date, you think and start picking up magazines.
Suddenly you notice a pair of familiar eyes staring at you from the front page of Melody Maker. You smile to yourself as you pick it up but seconds later the magazine is lying on the floor …

Melody Maker, 13. June 2000
MARRIED STREET PREACHER?
The Manic Street Preachers have been recording their new and as yet untitled album in Spain and the South of France, where they've also previously recorded the critically acclaimed albums Everything Must Go (1997) and This is My Truth Tell Me Yours (1999).
But that should now be considered yesterday's news as The Manics' main songwriter & part time heartthrob James Dean Bradfield has now acquired something that might make their career scorch or at least make thousands of women (or at least the girls on the James Dean Bradfield Appreciation Page which featured as Melody Maker's site of the week only months ago) all over the country weep.
Yes, it seems that the 31-year-old singer has found his true love, and let's face it, he has spent considerable time looking for her, hasn't he?
Bradfield, who is famous for his reputation as quite the womaniser and has once been quoted as saying: "I don't feel any need to be accepted by women whatsoever" has now been seen prancing around Madrid amongst other places, as one half of a couple that can only be described as a pair of lovebirds.
The pair met during the recording of the new album and have been together ever since. Drunken expeditions, romancing in the capital and late nights in his hotel room… and I doubt they were making pies!
However, it is evident from the reaction of the woman in question to the mere mention of matrimony that the clear indication are wedding bells.
Meanwhile, Bradfield and Manics management refuse to comment.
Daniel Booth, Madrid

He's going to kill me, he's just going to kill me!
You quickly and absentmindedly pay for your things and go home trying to figure out what to do.
Three hours later you meet James for lunch, but he's not there. If you'd thought it was bad had he shown up, this is even worse!
You sit down at your table and think that perhaps he just hasn't arrived yet.
The waiter comes to serve you but it's like waiting on a vegetable. You don't say a thing, just nod at whatever he says and after he's gone you have no idea what you just ordered.
You keep looking down and fiddling with the edge of your napkin, you start to feel tears emerging from under your eyelids.
"Excuse me, madam?" another waiter.
"I've already ordered…" you say, you're voice almost a hum.
"I have a letter for you from a Mr. Bradfield."
You look up and snatch the envelope from his hands and pay him no further attention.
"Why the fuck do they have to glue these things together so fucking hard?" you mumble to yourself as you rip the paper and find a small note enclosed.
I am sorry; I think it is better for both of us that I not come. We can't see each other anymore, I believe you know the reason. Fuck, you ARE the reason.
Please let someone know if you want to come round the studio to see the others, I think it is best if I'm not there.
James
You can't read anymore, the letter now stained with your tears.
You hail a cab and go home, rarely leaving your room for the next few days.
To your utter surprise, Nicky calls almost every day to check up on you and you try as best as you can to put on a happy face. You both avoid the subject of James for as long as you can, but it comes up eventually…
"Yeah, Rachael called just the other night, I was telling her about you and she'd love to meet you. You could come round and we'd have a chat."
"I don't know…"
"Come on, then you could beat Sean at some computer games"
"Hee hee"
"You have to come, it'll be great."
You both keep quiet for a minute, each very sure of what the other one's thinking.
"James won't be here…" Nicky whispers, afraid to offend you or strike a nerve.
"Well he better not be, I really don't want to see him!"
"It'll be ok, I've tried to convince him that you didn't blab to the press"
"I'm glad someone believes me" adding a pathetic attempt of a giggle.
"I think he knows it as well…"
"If he knew it he would have talked to me face to face in stead of leaving me a fucking letter!"
"Yes, I know."
"Just tell him I thought he was smarter than that, that----that he knew me better."
The receiver goes quiet for a bit and then you can hear a struggle on the other end.
"Smarter than that!?!" James "Well forgive me for not wanting to marry the first fucking groupie that crosses my path!"
"Fuck off"
"A fucking groupie with fucking good comebacks!" He says, his voice as cynical as you'd ever heard it.
"Well then you just don't know me at all, do you?" you can feel the tears in your eyes
"No, but I'm getting to know you and the more I learn about you the more I realize I don't fucking want to know you at all!"
You let the tears run freely now, not even caring if he hears it now.
"Fine, if that's what you think!"
"Yeah, it fucking well is!"
You let out a small sob and you hear James glitch on the other side, I guess he didn't realize you were crying.
"Shit, don't cry…"
"How can I not? Another opportunist, that's all you think of me!" you shout, getting really pissed off.
"What the hell am I supposed to think?" he yells back, "The first reporter pops up and you tell him everything that's happened, not to even mention 'the wedding comment'!"
"Yeah, I know you for less then a month, half of which you don't even talk to me and then you think I want to marry you!"
His voice grows low, shaky, and soft: "That's not what I meant, I mean that you do probably expect me to marry you sometime. I've never met anyone like you, but that kind of life is not for me. I know myself too well to think that you could."
You bit your lip to stop it from shivering: " I never even mentioned that I wanted marriage. I never even mentioned the word and as for telling the press everything about our relationship, I can't fucking believe you'd think that of me!"
"I don't know what to think anymore"
Your both silent for a few minutes and then you can hear a voice calling James.
"I have to go"
"That's not what I think of you, you know. Not in a marriage sense. I like you and yes, I do want to marry eventually I guess but…."
"Don't you realize that's something I can't give you? And I can't bring myself…I can't bring myself to be near you, knowing that I'll break your heart sometime because I know you won't settle for what I'm willing to offer and I know you're right not to do so, it'd just hurt ME too much in the long run to have to lose you" he takes a deep breath and searches for words: "I've never known anyone like you and I love you" you gasp, he loves me? "I know you didn't tell the press, I just thought that'd be an easier way to break things off without breaking your heart…"
"Well it did anyway - I couldn't bear it if you thought so ill of me!"
"I can't change baby, not even for you" click
You fall back on the chair and start sobbing, the sound of the empty telephone line echoing in the room.
Eventually the summer draws to a close, the album is almost finished and the tracks Nicky let you listen to are superb. The anger in James' voice, however, seems to be pointed at you - however well it suits the particular song.
You decide to go home. You thought you might stay for a few more weeks, but you've made plans to see the other guys in Cardiff sometime and really, there's no valid reason why you should stay.
Thing go on as normal at home - work, work, work.
For once you're glad you don't have time to think about anything else but your job and the occasional night out with the girls - male bashing does you good!

PART 9 >>>

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