The Bourne Identity

1

And yet another gig, he couldn't even count which one it was this year. But this one was different. It was the last concert of the TLSP Everything You've Come To Expect tour. He didn't feel any nostalgia, or what more he wasn't even particularly tired. He put his hand in his pocket and grabbed a cigarette. He lit it quickly and only then offered one to his best friend - Miles who denied with a slight shake of the head. Alex ran his hand through his hair as he finally held the cigarette in his mouth. The taste and smell of the smoke soothed him. He made his way to the tour bus and did everything exactly the same way as before -had a few drinks, jumped into some fairly fresh clothes and went outside to sign some autographs.  The screaming and almost fainting fans didn't even make an impression on him. He was used to being adored and almost worshiped. Later on, everything still went on as usual - getting drunk with Miles and falling asleep in the early morning, wasted to the last bit.

The sun seemed particularly brutal this morning as it made it's way to Alex's sore eyes. He opened them slowly and sighed heavily feeling the harsh pain flowing in his head. He looked on his phone just to see it was already past noon. Although their flight back to England was in a short time he couldn't force himself to hurry. He got up and put on some clothes that just happened to lay on the floor. He just finished getting dressed when he heard a loud knock on the door to his hotel room.

-What? - he asked grumpily in a low voice

- Where the fuck are you? We have to leave! - Of course it had to be Miles, taking care of everything. He was so organized that it drove Alex crazy. He mumbled something quietly and quickly grabbed his stuff and stuffed them into some bags. He looked around the room to see if he hadn't left something. He schemed through the room and remembered that he couldn't care less - he had so much money that every thing he left behind he could immediately replace. Nothing had a true value to him, not even speaking of an emotional or sentimental one. He grabbed his bags, lit yet another cigarette and left the room. The staff was already there to take the bags for him, and Alex didn't even offer to carry anything by himself. Besides them, he saw Miles standing there and looking at him with a huge dose of disapproval, shaking his head.

-What did you expect of me, Miles? - he said with a faint smile

-You're right, this is the typical, annoying you, Al - Miles' eyes calmed down and he snapped back into a better mood.

Finally, they got on the plane and Alex spent the entire flight asleep.

A few hours later he was already stepping inside of his house. He closed the door and listened to the silence.
Home sweet home near to the City Centre of Sheffield. It was really weird for him to realise that he had no idea what to do with himself. He wasn't used to this. He was used to being constantly on tour nad having every single moment of his day planned out in advanced. He strolled to his alcohol shelf, walking slowly, to kill as much time as he could. He opened it and looked at every bottle with pleasure to finally grab a bottle of scotch whiskey and pour it gently in a glass. He took it in his hand and sat down on his settee sipping carefully the whiskey. The silence was quite disturbing and yet at the same time he had no interest in turning on the TV or radio. He just sat there taking really long, deep breaths. After a moment he got annoyed with this and putting his glass away he grabbed his phone.
"Fuck this" he thought finding the number to Miles. It wasn't much trouble really, considering the fact that during the last months the only people he talked to over the phone were Miles and The Last Shadow Puppets tour manager.
-What do you fwant, Al? - his best friend asked laughing as if he were betting on how long Alex would survive without him. He was also at home, not that far away, in Liverpool.
-Mind if I come over and we find some pub and get drunk?
-Yes actually. We've seen each other less than 4 hours ago. We've spent every single moment together since what, like March?
-Oh come on Miles...
-I'm with Hannah. I have not seen her for a long time. We need some time for ourselves - Miles snapped sharply. Alex felt as if Miles had jammed a knife in his stomach.
-Yeah, I guess I should, uh... Do, uh summat... - he muttered under his nose and hung up shaking his head.
Of course Miles would do that to him. What was he even expecting? The tour was over. They probably would now go back to their individual careers - Alex with the Monkeys, Miles solo. Yet after spending that much together, endless drunken nights pouring their aching souls to one another, talking 'bout everything and nothing at once. Alex felt genuinly hurt. Why? This wasn't him. He was a rock god who was adored by everyone, who could have everything he wanted and - most importantly - had aboslutley no feelings. In love with himself and only himself. So why was he feeling like this now? What was wrong? Miles was always there for him, and the idea that he cared about anyone else than him made him furious. And it wasn't just "anyone". It was Hannah, Miles' girlfriend. Alex hated her. He couldn't stand just the sound of her name and when Miles endlessly tried to reconcile them and brang the three of them all of those meetings ended with a fight. Alex would constantly make quite nasty comments on Hannah and at some piont she would just get enough and leave. Alex would feel satisfied that she would leave him and Miles alone again. Of course, situations that Miles would spend time with Hannah would occur. But as they were on tour it would be quite rare, as Hannah had her own job and couldn't just travel the world with them. Things got even worse when Alex broke up with Taylor. When they were still together Alex would lie to himself that Taylor was enough, that he needed her. But they were just lies. The only person Alex really couldn't live without, the only person who could send him off the deep end was Miles fuckin' Kane. His best friend with whom he had such a peculiar relationship that it was impossible to even attempt to describe it with words. Their work on music together was also different. They understood each other without words. Often, they even finished each other's sentences. And they made an even better team onstage. Dancing and fooling around together. Touching, laughing, subtle kisses on the cheek, sensual hugs. Alex didn't ever admit that he actually enjoyed that. It was all a joke, wasn't it?
Turner couldn't take it any longer. He got up angrily and left the house, slamming the door.
TO BE CONTINUED