|| Love to Hate Me ||

{One}

"Never meet your heroes—they will always let you down."
__________

"Guys, guys, guys... I love you- I love you." Harlan smiled smugly, raising his palms in surrender at the screaming group of girls. They held out posters and CD's over the railing, declaring their love for him.

Harlan went down the line, signing anything pushed his way as Liana forced a smile, following suit behind him as she scribbled her signature on whatever the fans held over the railing.

Every night, it was the same thing—every night, Harlan Hayworth basked in the ambience of screaming fans; young women that wanted more from him than just his music. It was obvious that most had turned up for the show just to see Harlan.

Liana knew how the night was going to play out; Harlan would finish signing, take a shower (maybe) come back out and select a handful of unfortunate young women to tag along with him on his nightly escapades. He would be drunk. He drank during interludes on stage; he even drank during soundcheck.

From the moment Harlan's feet hit the floor, there was a drink in his hand. He may have been sober in a sense of there no longer being track marks on his arms, but Liana saw that he had simply replaced one addiction for another.

It was troubling—she had been looking forward to meeting Harlan Hayworth; sharing a stage with the godlike musician she had idolized in her teenage years.

Singer and songwriter to 'The Revolts,' the beautifully broken face to the troubled band that was torn apart by Harlan's self destructive ways.

Not that he cared—Harlan had been the one who carried The Revolts; he was the musical genius behind every song and obscure lyric. She recalled when they announced their breakup—the way Harlan had seemed uninterested, as if the band's demise hadn't mattered at all. She remembered he had said that it was all an illusion, that he made it seem that they were all equal, but really, it was the perfect scheme.

Harlan had not wanted to be the center of attention—he simply wanted to make music and sing his songs under the guise of collaborating in a unit. There was some bullshit mentioned about how he had to carry everyone—that his band mates had been nothing but deadweight. But that was, after all, what Harlan had signed up for.

"There were musical differences," that had been the headline. But Harlan disagreed. He said that there was no clash over the music that was made, but rather no one had an input on how things were done in the studio, which made Harlan give up entirely. In the long run, he had wanted to work as a unit—as a band. There was a rumor that he recorded his vocal tracks in a separate studio and sent them in for his band mates to work around on their final album—forcing them to write music around his own.

Not long after that interview, Harlan was arrested for possession of heroin. He went to rehab and was later dropped from his record label. It looked like the end of Harlan Hayworth: musical genius to The Revolts—the young man who Rolling Stone declared saved Rock'n Roll.

Given the chance to save someone else's career, Liana made a deal with her record label. She requested that Harlan Hayworth play for her. If the tour went well, UpFront Records would agree to sign him.

There was just one big problem: Harlan Hayworth was exactly what Liana feared him to be—inconsiderate and careless. Not to mention he was a drunk, which was something she wasn't prepared for. She had thought Harlan was "sober," little did she know her definition of that word meant something entirely different to the former rocker.