1974 - A David Bowie Fanfic.

New York.

David Bowie POV.

New York was the place I'd be living in for the next couple of months, my goodbye to Ros was one of the hardest I've ever done. Leaving her with the man that hit her was hard enough. I was scared of what he could do to her...

I shouldn't have left her with that dangerous monster...

My apartment was in Manhattan, and I had a gorgeous view of the New York skyline. The sun hung low making the whole city shadow itself and I hear my front door open.

"It's only us," Angie calls.

Zowie comes stumbling into the room and giggles.

His honey coloured hair like mine, shone in whatever sunlight was still in the city, luckily he didn't inherit the yellow hair my wife had. He was the spitting image of me - thankfully.

"Hello my boy," I pick him up and beam a smile at him.

Zowie giggles again and Angie walks in with her short, yellow, curly hair, she wore a white slinky dress and big heels. She smirks to me and walks over and kisses me.

Every kiss I shared with her, there was no spark, no buzz like I had with Ros...

"Let's try not arguing shall we darling?" She purrs to me and takes our son into the kitchen.

Well you're always the one to start the arguments, darling.

I say nastily in my head. If I had said that out loud, that would be the start of yet another argument.

Angie had no idea about my little Brixton trips, she had seen that I had saved the young South London girl from a terrible car accident. Even Ros predicted that to be in the papers, but that was about all Angie knew. Even that little headline caused a shouting fit from her.

No one except me and Rosalind knew the true story. Ros was kind to me, she would never dream of shouting at me, and I'd never dream of shouting at her...! We cared about one another.

I head into the very modern kitchen to see Angie making Zowie a sandwich.

"So," She says as I sit down at the table. "Ready for the show?" Deep down I knew she didn't care what happened as long as I brought in the money and made us as a couple look good. That's all she ever cared about, the fame and the money she could spend.

"I think so." I mutter and put a cigarette in my mouth and light it.

"What have you done to your hair?" She asks looking at my slicked back look.

"Don't you like it?" I ask through my teeth and she pulls a face.

Ros likes it.

I puff out some smoke and roll my eyes at her.

"You'll have to wear a wig for the show, and for the paparazzi." She instructs.

I had forgotten, now that I was in New York there would be more people snapping photos of me and my little family. "Let's try to keep Zowie out of the papers shall we? He's too little." I say sternly, and Angie, for once, agrees with me.

"The paparazzi are absolutely dying to catch us together, they won't stop until they've got that important photo David...!" She hints to me.

"Well I guess we'll just have to give them what they want." I sigh and roll my eyes again. "Let's take a walk then. I'll get Margo to watch over Zowie." Angie grins a smile at my words, she loved the spotlight. Much more than I did, but she was a model, she was born for the camera.