USUK (Hitman! Jones X Victim! England)

Chapter 8 (The Last Show)

Arthur's POV

I got my music ready. The lyrics were fully written out. My final concert was tonight. I didn't need anyone or anything just for Alfred to be there. My guitar sat in its case ready to be played. I smirked and wiped face paint on my face covering it in red and blue stripes. I stepped out of the van. The brisk night air was so stunning. The stars shining over the concert arena so perfectly. I got the whole arena to myself. But tonight was my show. I shoved music sheets into Francis and Antonio's hands. They stepped back looking at it but I walked into the arena before they could laugh at me. 

I made it inside quickly and looked around, low and behold Alfred was in the audience. Good. I got my guitar out of it's case and the starting band started playing. This time since that Polish guy got booed off the stage, we now had a German band. Two brothers singing. They were nice, crewed, but nice. They started singing and the crowd loved them. It was nice. But I could out stage them. 

Francis got his set ready as did Antonio. I felt my stomach tighten as the crowd starting chanting my name. 

"Arthur! Arthur! Arthur!" They screamed as strobe lights lined against a British flag. It was time. 

The last show.

Alfred's POV

It was Arthur's last concert. I had to get there quick. I had snuck in with fake VIP passes once again. I was so close to the stage it was blinding and by the German starters I had almost gone deaf by the time the British flag was lowered. I had a gun with me if I did end up changing my mind. It would just take one bullet and he would be down. One. Shot. 

The strobe lights lined to the center of the flag. Then everything went red. The British rock star burst through the flag, his guitar in hand. He smirked menacingly. Playing a loud low chord. The crowd awed and gasped at his insane entrance. His face was lined with face paint and it suited him. He played his heart out for the first few songs but then started calming down like he was preparing for something. Most likely since this is his last gig here. 

When the time came to last few songs he shouted to the crowd how excited they were. They screamed still as energetic as before but way beyond drunk than where they started. It was clear he was starting to get tired as well. He grabbed his guitar and tuned it to a more mellow minor key. He put music on the ground to read. The audience looked at him in wonderment. He began strumming, none of the people in the audience had heard the song but were trying to piece it together. 

He began playing soft and mellow. It was a love song, and his eyes were glued to me. 

I blushed flustered out of my mind. I turned away but swiftly enough strobe lights landed on me. Other audience members near me thought they were the special one but he called out my name. I carefully made my way on stage and the crowd almost screamed. Not in rage but.. they were happy. 

I stepped onto the large black stage, bit of ripped British flag under my boots. I still had the pistol hidden in my clothes, to which I doubt he knew of. I stood next to him as any fan would do and acted as if I were a huge fan. Making sarcastic looking gawks at his playing. Which from the drunken audience looked real, but Arthur knew how I really felt. 

His soothing mellow guitar continued to be played as his words began to lull both me and the audience. I had to make a decision, this would be the last time I could think. It was him, or Ivan. My life, or my freedom. And though he didn't know, his life or his death. 

The song ended soon and he wrapped an arm around me. Girl and guys were trying desperately to get on stage but the guards wouldn't let them. I stood in his arms, the world around us growing unimportant. It was just us, just the soft sound of the last chord playing on the speakers. Just the soft breaths of a panting rock star who's been singing for hours, just the silence of my mind and my wonder. 

The decision had to be made.

I reached for my gun.