The next morning, my normal internal clock woke me up at 7, the time I got up every morning. John's hand has somehow wandered to my stomach during the night. So I picked up his hand gingerly and laid it gently beside him. I looked at his sleeping figure and sighed to myself. Sometimes I wondered how I had fallen for John Taylor's spell. Again.

The whole world thought he was a god.

Only I knew that he was like a little kid.

I went into the kitchen to put the kettle on the stove for tea. I figured I needed to get my teabags out of the way of John, who would scoff and complain that I wasn't making tea in the right way (in other words, the correct *British* way). That is, if he was coherent enough.

Then I heard the phone ring, so since my phone is in my bedroom, I dashed as quietly as a I could to my room, closeing the door behind me. Careful not to wake John, whom I was sure he needed the rest, I grabbed the receiver off the cradle.

"Hello?" I said, whispering. "Who is this?"

"Grace? Gracie, it's me, Nick."

"Nick?" I hissed. "Why are you calling so early?"

"Wot? It's noon here in London! And why are you whispering?"

I gulped down a breath, and started talking normally, becuase I had forgotten that I had been whispering. "Nick, what's up? Getting a phone call from you is a surprise. Especially since John said you all were on holiday."

Nick paused to answer. "Yes...on holiday? Uh, yeah, we are all on holiday. Yes. Just finished 'Notorious' and waiting to see how it does on the charts and in the States."

"I'm sure it'll do well, "I said, smiling. But I knew Nick enough to realize that he needed to talk to me about something else than the new album. "John was telling me how you worked wth Nile again."

"Yes, we did. Mmmmhmmm."

"So...what's up?"

"Oh, not much."

I laughed a little. "not much?!? Nick, I know you better than that. You're calling about *something*..."

"Okay, you got me. I'm calling because I'm pretty sure that John is over there..."

"Yes he is," I replied, quickly adding, "and you can't bother him now, he's sleeping."

"Sleeping huh?"

"Yes."

"How much sleep has he been getting over there?"

"Enough. Other than that, no comment." I gritted my teeth.

"Why are you so testy, Gracie?"

I scoffed, noticeably upset. "You think I can't see what he's doing to himself? Nick, he's killing himself. Slowly. He looks horrible. He's exhausted by can't get to sleep. I feel so cut off from you guys. How long has this been going on?" By that point I was growing hysterical and the tears were starting to roll down my cheeks. "Nick, how could you let the situation get so bad? Simon too. Don't you even *care* about John?"

Nick too got on the defensive. "Now, don't get mad at me or Simon yet. *You* have no idea what it's like to work with John when he's like this. I always knew John had a drug problem. You knew too. Remember New York?"

I gasped involuntarily, wiping tears off my face, remembering the painful memory of years before. Yes, I had known there was a problem. It was silly of me to think that the night's events had been an isolated incident. John was probably like that *every* night. Now I wondered how it had led to all of this. "Yeah, well...how long has he been like this?"

"Honestly, to be perfectly frank, it's gotten noticeably worse since a couple weeks ago. Since Renee left him," Nick replied sadly.

"WHAT?!?" I sputtered. "Renee left him?"

Nick said in a small voice, "yes."

"Oh my god, that must have *crushed* him." I gasped again.

"You have *no* idea."

"Oh geez Nick. I'm sure Mr. Big Ego reared his ugly head, and I'm sure Mr. Big Ego took *that* well." I knew exactly how John was going to react to something like Renee leaving him. He would have just retreated to another world. With drugs and drink.

It had seemed, at least from the reports that I gotten intermittently from Nick and Simon, that John was deeply in love with Renee. I remembered when I had first heard that Johnw as dating Renee, and couldn't help thinking, oh brother, another drop-dead gorgeous model that I could never compete with. And from all accounts I had guess that they were going to get married soon. I was positive that John would have been crushed to bits if Renee had left him.

But this revelation from Nick made last night's events make more sense.

He had wanted me the way he remembered me because he was missing what he *had* in his possession for so long.

John hadn't really wanted me last night at all. He was lonely. I almost started crying all over again, realizing that he didn't love me like he once did. I was having more problems letting go than he was, so it seemed.

"Gracie, say something." I had lost the ability to speak. I thought of the man who was asleep in the next room and a thousand thoughts ran through my head.

"I can't," I croaked. "I don't want to talk about it, Nick."

"Gracie, I really wish you'd been here, when that happened. John either wouldn't show up at the studio for days, or he'd get stoned out of his freakin' mind and be completely argumentative when we were working on songs. We couldn't win. He kept denying he had a problem..."

"*He* kept denying he had a problem? It seems to me that it was you guys who were denying the problem."

"Be fair. I had been denying it too, yes, for a while. I thought John would just bounce back. And before you say anything else, you have to understand...John and I had been best mates for years. Until Julie-Anne and I got married. Then John wasn't the same. He wouldn't tell me anything. I think it was partially because he was jealous of me and what me and Julie-Anne had going for us. Things got worse when Roger said he was leaving, and when Andy didn't come back. It was like he was a completely different person. He stopped confiding in me. Then he found Renee. They looked picture perfect."

"John *was* a completely different person," I emphasized, "John Taylor is not a happy camper when he's stoned. Or drunk. Or both. And it makes him do stupid things..."

"Oh yes, like the time he punched his fist through the hotel window because he didn't like the color of the carpet in the hotel room.

"Yes. I heard about that."

"I can vouch for him after he's coming off the high. He's got the personality of an angry grizzly. You stay the hell away!"

I sighed. "What can be done?"

Nick and I talked for a little while longer. He said that he knew I was John's good friend and that whatever I said would be as good as gold. I thanked Nick for his support but was worried about him. "We're all worried about him, but I think him coming to see you was probably the best decision he ever made. If there is anyone who can set him straight and give him a new outlook, it's you Gracie. He still trusts you. Nowadays I don't know if he even trusts *me* anymore." I wanted to sob all over again. "Nick...can you come out here?"

"I'd best not, he needs to talk to you. I can't do anything more for him now. He's beyond me."

So we got off the phone, and I peeked out the door to see if John was awake yet. He was mumbling to himself and rolling over. So I quietly sat down next to him and waited for him to get up.

"Hi," he mumbled, as he steadied himself and got up.

"Good morning, Taylor," I said cheerily. It's all about the attitude...

"Hi darling," he said huskily, sitting up, and then running his hand along my shoulder. "Did you sleep well?"

"I slept okay, yes," I replied. "How about you? You looked like you needed some good rest."

"That I did," he said, "yes, that I did." An evil glint was sent my way. "Of course, it always help to spend some time with a lovely lady..."

"John, you're *terrible* - hush!" I laughed. "But seriously, it's time you got out of bed."

"Why? Why can't I just lie here with you for a couple more hours? What's a couple hours?"

"John, we need to discuss this *problem* you seem to be having..."

John shook his head. "What problem? There is *no* problem." He brushed his hair out of his eyes.

"John, stop being such an ass. You know as well as I know that you have a substance abuse problem. And you coming here, in an attempt to find me in a good mood so you can clear your conscience - it isn't going to work."

"What are you talking about?"

"You are getting yourself up and finding a specialist to help you get off of this stuff, because I can't stand for it."

"I'm not going anywhere. I came here on holiday to visit *you* and this is the reception I get?"

I sighed. I didn't want it to get to this point but I didn't want to back down.

I wanted to save him. I hated to see him like this.

"I don't want you staying here. If you can't even commit to making yourself better...what difference does my friendship make?" I was getting hysterical all over again.

"I don't want to hear it," John complained, getting up from the couch, and taking some of the stuff of his that had been spread out on the coffee table, and putting it in his suitcase.

"So that's it, huh? I don't care if you hate me for the rest of your life, John Taylor. I just want you to know that people - like me, like Nick - actually care about you and hate seeing you do this to yourself. You need help, John."

He said nothing more, and got his things together. He went into the bathroom to change into something nearly decent, but left his stubble intact. Picking up his suitcase he looked at me glaringly. "Goodbye Grace." He left, slamming the door behind him.

I went to my bed and sobbed.