I Can't Live Within You

Chpt. 4 Can We Meet Again?

Update:
Hey guys, so, as you know, David passed away in January. I was super shocked because I never would imagine someone to die right after their birthday, and their release of a new masterpiece that is Blackstar. I was very upset because I legitimately thought he was immortal. I know I haven't touched this story since September, I just haven't been feeling up to it but if anyone wants me to finish it I will. Thanks for your time.

A couple of days passed since she met David, and he assured her that the girl in his song was definitely her. Since then, she'd been in a daze. She was in her apartment one afternoon when there was a knock on her door. She opened it to see her manager with a huge bouquet of flowers.

"Oh my word!" She gasped.

"I know, I know!" He said coming in and setting them down. "Guess who sent you these?"

She smiled and rushed towards the bouquet, looking for a card. When she found one she read it aloud.

"Twigs, Thank you so very much for being apart of my Photoshoot, you were more than great. Love, David."

He called her Twigs again. That was her childhood nickname, before she became 'Twiggy'. She saw a phone number on the bottom but didn't read it out loud. "Oh these are so beautiful."

"Indeed. But the news I have to tell you won't be." Dennis said. She looked up at him blankly. "What?"

"Well, they sent in the photo to Vogue but...they wouldn't accept it. They 'couldn't put a man on their cover' is what I was told by David's manager."

Twiggy was shocked. All the hard work they put in for nothing. "You have to be kidding, that is absolutely bullocks! They're crazy!"

"I know, it was all for nothing apparently."

"Oh poor David, what did he say about it?"

"I didn't hear of that, oddly. So I haven't an idea. But I was told he's mostly been busy with recording. Maybe you should give him a call." He said with a grin, implying that he read the card.

She gasped. "Oh you nosy little fly!" She laughed.

"Alright, well I'll get out of your hair now. Goodbye." He said as he left.

She walked back over to the flowers to smell them, then picked up the card. "I want to call him, I really do. But he's probably still so busy." She said to herself. She thought it over while she fixed herself dinner and took a bubble bath. She decided she would ask her older sister Shirley for advice. Shirley was good for things like this. She called her and told her everything that happened.

"I'm so proud of you though, Leslie! But I definitely think you should call him! It seems rare for a big star like him to take interest in a model, well, a supermodel. You know how people assume models to be....not the smartest."

This didn't surprise Twiggy, it was both true and normal for her sister to slam her in some way, it's what sisters do.

"Whatever, Shirley. I mean, I think I'm pretty smart, I was smart in agreeing to work with him wasn't I?"

"You know what I mean. As in intelligence. Where you stand politically or what your views on the world are."

Twiggy remembered a time back in the 60's when an interviewer asked her who her favorite philosopher was. It struck her very confused, she was only 16 at the time. She didn't even know what a philosopher was exactly. The only way she could answer, was by turning the question back on interviewer. "Who's your favorite philosopher?"

"Yeah, I guess your right. I wonder what he sees in me then. I'm sure he's been with so many random women, there's no way he goes without groupies, they probably come swarming in."

"I wouldn't doubt that for a second, he's a rockstar. One very in touch with his sexuality at that. But even then that doesn't mean you couldn't just be friends with him."

"That's very true, yeah."

"Well what are you waiting for? Call him!"

She laughed. "Ok, ok! Thanks Shirley, bye."

She stared at the card for a couple of minutes, and then dialed his number. She started overthinking as she waited for him to pick up. "Please be busy, please be busy." She whispered. Then she heard the phone click, and her heart stopped.

"Hello?" A voice said. It was him.

"Hi...um, is this David?"

"This is him, who am I speaking to?" He asked.

"It's Twiggy...if you're too busy right now..."

"I was hoping you would call!" He literally just got back home from the recording studio, and he had been thinking about her all day.

Her heart fluttered. "Well of course I would, I had to thank you for these lovely flowers you sent me, they're so nice." She said, taking another smell from them.

"I'm glad you enjoyed them. We didn't think you'd be able to work with us, so it's a small thank you for your time."

"You're too kind...So, I know you heard about Vogue's wonderful decision."

"Oh yeah, it's nothing. I should have known they wouldn't put a man on their cover, even one wearing makeup!" He chuckled.

"But they should have! We looked fantastic, they're just...crazy. Absolutely crazy! All that for nothing!"

"Not for nothing..."

"Oh?"

"I was thinking how wonderful it would look for my new album I've been working on."

"Oh that sounds great! It'll have a much longer life that way, too."

"We should be releasing it some time next month. But I've already started the writing for my next album."

"How exciting. You wouldn't mind giving me any details, would you?" She asked.

"Well, I was hoping I could meet you again sometime, in person." He asked, wondering if he was being too straight-forward.

She was shocked. David Bowie, the rockstar, was taking such an interest in her, he wanted to see her again. "Oh I...I'd love to. When would you want to meet, and where?" She asked.

"There's a very nice restaurant not far from Oakley Street, where I live." He said.

"You want to take me to dinner?" She said, blushing and gripping the phone chord in her fist.

"Is that alright with you? I hope I'm not sounding to forward."

"No not at all! I'd love to get to know you more, sounds perfect."

"It's obvious you and I are very busy people, would Friday at 6:00 be alright with you?"

"That would be perfect. I'll meet you there."

"Well then, I think we have ourselves a little date. I'll let you turn in for the night now."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight."