You're so dark (an Alex Turner fanfic)

A lonely man in London

Alex allready stood in the alleyway for age, leaning against the cold and wet stone wall of the shabby pub. He had his eyes closed while the smoke left into the cold air through his half opened lips. He had his head layd back, not really caring about how his hair might look by this time. The rain had allready made it messy and slightly curly but he couldn't care less right now. He had no idea what time it was but weather it was allready three in the morning or just eleven in the evening it would make no difference. Not at all. He sighed for the hundredth time and threw his cigarett on the wet ground. He allready aimed for the next one in the pocket of his soggy leatherjaket when he realised it was his last. “great..“ he mumbled  quietly and exhausted while he crumbled the empty pack up in his fist. He feeled that his knuckles were pretty scraped from the fight and he somehow enjoyed the small pain going out from his hand. For him physical pain was allways a sign for being alive, for breathing even if he sometimes wished that his lungs would just give up together with his heart and he would just simply drop dead into the grave he had prepared himself over the past years.
He looked down the barely light up street on which the water was reflecting the dim light of the few lanterns that were attached to the houses forming the narrow backstreet somewhere in London.
He looked up into the dark and cloudy sky, the rain got less but some drops were still falling down on this miserable man. Slowely, like in a trance he got loose from the cold wall and started walking into the dirction away from the street, further down the alleyway that lead to more pubs and other, small, even darker streets. He was questioning if his legs would even get him to his destination from which he did not even knew but somehow his exhausted body obeyed his troubled mind and he kept walking down this street. He was taking deep breaths that hit his lungs like a fist in the face, like Matt's fists had hit his face earlier this night.
The events that had  happened a few hours ago were still playing before his inner eye when he entered the first pub hoping they would sell cigaretts, he felt like he would die without another pack even though the opposit was the case. And he knew well that those few gramm of tabac will kill him more likely sooner than later but he never cared much about that . Wasn't it that every great rockstar died soon? Wasn't he one of them or was Matt right? Was the 'great' Alex Turner just some poor lost soul without any home or hope and most of all without any love in his life at all?
He did not wanted to believe that even though the voice in his head, that he managed to ignore so well during the last years told him the opposite.
The pub was nearly empty and even more run-down than the last, it really felt like he managed to get himself into the shit part of this city that he sometimes hated, sometimes loved.
The barkeeper looked suspicious at the young man in front of him like he would also ask himself how this man ended up in this part of the city because it was clear that Alex did not belong into this world. But the older one knew never to ask questions and so he gave him the two packs of cigaretts he had asked for.
Alex toyed with the thought of getting drunk in theere, drowning his worries and self-doubts in alcohol once again. But he knew  the things he heared coming out of his best friend's mouth could not even be swept away by alcohol.
So he got out on the dark street again. He still had no real destination but at the other hand he felt too weak and exhausted to keep wandering around the city like he had done since he left the boys, boiling of rage and anger but mostly being hurt like he wasn't in a long time, because deep inside he knew they were right. Every word that Matt had hurled against his normally unbreakable shell got through it and right into his heart. Only Matt was able to hurt him like that, Matt knew that  and Alex hand realised that he must have done real shit when Matt really used this last option to get through to him.
Alex suddenly found himself sitting on the steps of a barbershop that looked like you could get a 'Sweeney Todd' treatment in there. He was mindlessly fiddling with the light cigarett between his fingers when suddenly something caugt his attention.
A slap. He could hear it. He knew this sound well. He hated it. He looked up and down into the direction where this sound had come from. It was too dark to see the source of he familiar sound and first he thought it must have been two guys fighting outside a pub when suddenly he realised that the muffled and held back moan in pain came from no man but a woman. This was the moment Alex's hazy mind got clear again and all his alarmbells rang.