Don't go breaking my heart (Elton John X Male Reader)

A Victim of Love

July 29th, 1990

"Leave John! Get the fuck out of my life, and never come the fuck back!"

     The door slammed, glass shattered from the table as it got knocked off. That was it. He was alone again. He should've known that John would just leave him like everyone else. Bernie was long gone, working with someone else, he had no one to love, the princess had just died. He was lonely again. Renate and him had just ended a few days before, and here comes his ex, crawling back for a hook up like Elton knew he always would. John walked out the door smirking. Elton feel to his knees, his eyes, completely filled in tears.

   "How could I be so fucking stupid?"
 
      He called out. He leaned over to the table laying beside him, grabbing his cup of whiskey he had been working on before John had interrupted. He placed the cup to his mouth, chugged a little more then half the pint.

    "Ugh..." he huffed.

    He looked down to his feet. "What have I become?" He asked himself. He knew his body couldn't take much more of the alcohol and drugs, hell, his nose would constantly bleed. He needed help, but he didn't want to ask for it. He knew the world needed his music, and he wanted to give the world what they wanted. Not what he needed. He chugged what was left, placing the bottle next to him.

"I guess Bernie was right."

"It is easy to replace me."

    He wiped away his tears, popping open another whiskey. Right then he heard a knock at the door.

     "Who are you and the fuck you want?" He shouted.

   "It's Bernie!" The voice said.

    Elton slowly stood up and opened the door.

     "Why did you finally decided to show up? Did the other calibrators not want you to work with them anymore?"

      Elton said rolling his eyes. Bernie looked at him.

     "Elton have you been drinking again?"

   Elton looked down.
  
    "What's it matter to you? You left for someone else, always dated some girl over me. I've always loved you, more then you would ever know, but you always just said I was like your brother. What the fuck is wrong with me Bernie? Hm? Tell me, and don't lie."

    Bernie started at Elton.

  "Nothing. And I mean it. Your perfect, and millons of people live to hear your music everyday. You just don't want to live yourself. Elton I came to tell you that I'm sorry. I really am. And I want to help you get better."

   His frown curled up into a sad smile, putting his hand on Elton's shoulder.

  "You need to become Reggie again, and not feel like you killed who you are to become someone that you hate."

  Elton gazed at him.

    "Why would I do that?"

    He backed up, forcing Bernie's hand off his shoulder.

   "Bernie... Drugs and alcohol are what makes me happy, what makes my fans happy, and what keeps the last spark of energy in me. Without it, I'm nothing. Who gives a shit about "Reg Dwight"? I'm Elton Hercules John now. Reggie is dead. He is never coming back."

  Bernie sighed.

   "Elton, there's a amazing person inside you, and I wish you could see it, but right now please, try and get help."

   He smiled a little. Elton pointed to the door.

    "Get out. Now!"

   Bernie backed up slowly.

   "Goodbye my brother..." Bernie said as he got in the taxi, his face almost covered in tears.

   Elton sat back down, Bernie's words, still ringing in his head.

   "Maybe he's right..."

   Elton looked at the bottle, taking it in his hands.

   "Maybe... I should get help..."
 
    He raised himself up sluggishly, slowly opening the door again.

  "Okay... Let's do this..."

    He stumbled outside, running as much as he could must with his head spinning around itself, waving his arms in the air.

    "Taxi! Taxi!"

     A yellow car pulled over. Elton dropped himself inside the black decor of the taxi.

   "Take me to the nearest rehab center. Stat."

    The driver nodded and they took off. Elton sat there, half drunk, and completely heart broken. He got out about 30minutes later. He handed the driver the money for the ride and ran inside.

After Elton checked inside the rehab, he settled in silence around the waiting room. The clock ticked for what felt like hours before Elton was called.

He took a seat in the circle of people.

    "How exactly does this work-?" Elton asked.

    "How ever feels best." Replied a women sitting near by.

    "Right. Well. My name is Elton. And I need help." He smelt of alcohol, his eyes, blood shot. Y/n was sitting beside him.

    Your pov:

Damn, that guy looks rough. I wonder what he has been through.... Probably something really bad... Wait... Elton....? Is he.... The singer...? Elton John has been my celebrity crush for years, and now he is literally sitting right next to me. Holy shit! I must look awful. I mean the weed and the cigarettes did take a tole on me... That must be why he is here too....

"What are you on and what do you need help with?" I asked.

  He smiled.

"Well dear, pretty much any drug you can name, I've tasted every alcohol you could think of, and I'm very bad at controlling my eating. Plus I need help with not fucking everything one I meet and not getting pissed when they all meet me."

I looked up at him.

"Wow ... I'm so sorry... Well you've come to the right place." I replied. This was a lot to take in, and to think I'm pretty much gonna be living with this dude for like a month.... Damn, the Elton John.... In my presents... While we are all trying to not be crack heads. Holy. fucking. shit.