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Bleeding Hearts -- Act 2 Scene 3 right. act 3. two more to go after this. thanks for the feedback, etc etc. you make this author veddy happy indeed. xxoo v BLEEDING HEARTS ACT 2 SCENE 3 Stefan awoke to an insistant calling of his name, coupled with a repeated prodding at his shoulder. "Wha....I'm up, I'm up! Stop it!" He cracked an eye open to see their manager standing before him with a newspaper in one hand and a scowl on his face. He glanced down and saw that Steve was slumped sideways, his dark-haired head resting against Stef's ribs. "What time is it?" "About 2. In the afternoon. You've been asleep all day. Anyway, I thought you might want to read this." He handed Stef the newspaper. "What so important about NME that you woke me up to read it?" "Page 3." Stef obligingly flipped the cheap newsprint open to the right page. His jaw dropped. "I guess news travels fast..." He looked down at the page and sure enough, it was still there. "PLACEBO CANCEL WORLD TOUR - FRONTMAN MOLKO LOSING IT". Beneath the headline, the first paragraph was in bold font: 'Placebo cancelled the rest of their world tour yesterday. The official press release claims a 'serious illness' is preventing one of the band members from being able to finish the tour. However, our reporter has the /real/ scoop...' "Shit." "Yeah." A morbid fascination urged Stefan to keep reading. '... We have it on good authority from a regular source that frontman Brian Molko has been admitted to the hospital following a heroin overdose with complications...' Stef skimmed over the article, pausing wherever a word would catch his eye. '...another source says that Molko was a bloody mess, arms covered with cuts as though trying to commit suicide...' The paper fell from Stefan's suddenly-limp fingers. He could barely see it as it fluttered to the floor for the tears flooding his eyes. He sat very still and very silent. Steve was still asleep against him, apparanly undisturbed by the activity. Stef finally found his voice. "What press release?" "Well, yesterday after I got off the phone with Steve I phoned up the folks at Virgin and they put out a press release that afternoon." He shrugged. "It was really vague, I have no idea where this dicks got this information." Stef sighed, slumping forward dejectedly. The action dislodged Steve from his precarious perching against Stefan's side, and he woke as his head fell and hit the arm rest of the plastic chair. "OW! Shit!" he exclaimed, sitting up and rubbing the side of his face. "Sorry," Stef mumbled. "Geez--" he interrupted himself with a wide yawn, "whats wrong?" Stef reached down to gather up the paper and wordlessly handed it to Steve. "Eh?" "Page 3." Steve obediently flipped the page, glanced down, threw it to the floor and swore. "You're kidding, right? Tell me that you're just playing a joke on me." "Do you see us laughing?" "I... guess not." Steve buried his face in his hands, partially to rub his sleepy eyes but more to just try to avoid facing the world. "So, um..." Stef sounded tentative, uncertain. "How's Brian? Have you seen him yet today?" "Yeah, he's been awake for an hour." "Has he seen this?" He gestured angrily to the paper which once again lay upon the floor. "No." A pause. "Has he said anything about us yet?" "No." "Steve? Do you think we should try to talk to him again?" Steve mumbled something incoherant. "Sorry? I didn't catch that." "I said," he said slowly, enunciating clearly, "fuck me if I know." Stefan sighed. Fucking Steve was, unfortunately, something he didn't even have the luxury of thinking of at the moment. "Well, I'm gonna go in and see him." Before Steve could answer, Stef was on his feet and moving towards the door to Brian's room. He knocked softly. "Brian, can I come in?" "Stef?" He carefully opened the door and stepped in. "Yeah." As he pushed the door shut behind him, he saw Brian registering that he had come in alone. "What do you want?" "I came to see how you're doing. You're looking better." Brian shrugged. "Whatever." "No, I mean it." "Fine, I look better. What do you want?" "I just wanted to talk." Silence descended as Brian fidgeted with the blankets about his chest. Finally: "So, say something." Stefan took a deep breath. "Will you ever forgive Steve? He's out there, beating himself up over this--" "Oh, so that's what this is about? Come begging me to forgive your lover?" Brian tried to keep the hurt from showing through his defiant tone. "No, Brian. I'm here as your friend, as your bass player. We really need to talk about all this. You, me, Steve. If nothing else, can we just talk about it as a band?" He looked at Brian with pleading eyes. "Please? We're all breaking apart, it's not just you." Brian was silent, his hands wringing together as he lost himself in thought. Stef waited, watching the delicate hands twist, the chapped lips purse unconsciously. "Where is he?" "What?" Stefan was jolted out of his contemplation by the soft question. "Steve. Where is he?" "Oh... uh... He's out in the chairs down the hall." Brian looked down, his hair falling in front of his face. "Go get him?" Prev | Next Home |