âmes pétillantes ~ classic rock imagines

• Keith Richards •

You were pulled from your slumber by the harsh ringing of your phone. It had been Keith's idea to install a second phone in the bedroom, and every time it woke you up in the middle of the night, your drowsy mind questioned how much you really loved him. Especially since every time the phone rang in the middle of the night, it was either one of his band mates, drunk, and asking for a ride, or it was Keith, drunk, and asking for a ride.

At first, you ignored it, determined to let whoever it was stew in their own mess for the night. The number of times they disturbed your sleep, they deserved it. But the caller was incessant, leaving intervals of barely a few seconds before the vicious ringing started up again.

Eventually, you caved with an exhausted sigh, and slipped out of bed to pad over to the chest of drawers that the phone sat upon. The wooden floor was cold beneath your bare feet, sending an abrupt shock through your drowsy body, and suddenly you wanted to scream.

When Keith had proposed shacking up together, to say you were sceptical was an understatement. His romantic history was long and difficult, of course, but more importantly, his lifestyle was nightmarish. Evenings out that didn't end for weeks at a time, endless flashes of lust filled eyes, hazy mornings, nights spent in jail cells – where the hell the band managed to find the time or energy to create songs, you'd never know.

You had met Keith during one of those never-ending nights. As a first-hand witness to a vicious attack, you were promptly brought in for questioning. The two officers who interviewed you were kind and patient, fuelling you with plastic cups of water and hushing your fears with easy temperaments. You answered their questions and, once they were finished talking with you, they sat you in the waiting room, striding off to finish setting up the identity parade.

Not long after, in barged two more policemen flanking a lanky figure wearing nothing but tight jeans, sunglasses, a small silver pendant and a pair of handcuffs. Curiously, you had watched the policemen drag the man over to the front desk, where hushed words were exchanged hurriedly. Seemingly unbothered by his predicament, the man stood there casually examining his surroundings, his sunglasses now clutched in one of the policeman's hands. He looked so at ease he may as well have been standing in an art gallery rather than a police station.

The policemen had dumped the man, who had winked flirtatiously at a crying woman sat on the other side of the waiting room, in a chair almost directly opposite you. After securing the handcuffs to the chair, they left you alone with him.

Unbelievably, you managed to get along like a house on the fire. You weren't sure if that was his drunkenness or your blind optimism, but the conversation was easy going and entertaining. By the time you were leaving the police station, he was by your side, released on a bail that he didn't stick to yet still managed to wiggle his way out of.

He was in a relationship at that point, he'd told you so. However, relationships with Keith Richards were as flimsy as a tightrope. But it seemed that you were willing enough to join the circus. When he turned up unexpectedly on your doorstep a few weeks later (drunk), he was suddenly single.

For the next month, he made himself at home on your sofa. And, somehow, at some point, you found yourself considering if you loved him. Now, you were considering if you loathed him.

Sucked out of your memories by a fresh wave of ceaseless ringing, you leant a hand upon the edge of the drawers as you approached them to steady your groggy body. Instantly, you felt every inch of wood quaking beneath the phones never ending vibrations, travelling through your skin and juddering your very soul. It was like a match being held up to a gas hob. Beneath your skin, you could feel your very blood beginning to boil.

Many a night had you ended up like this. Pulled from a much-needed sleep to answer the beckoning call of someone who claimed he would destroy the Earth to save you. All he seemed to be doing was destroying you to save himself.