— Steve Bush
Part 2: Billiam Gets Another Chance
"Billiam? Billiam?"
He could sort of make out the gentle voice trying to rouse him but he was conscious enough not to give a toss. Whatever time it was, it was too early to be getting up.
"Billiam," the voice continued. She wasn't about to stop trying so he might as well get up. He knew he could make the task of sending her on her way quick before he could get to more urgent matters.
"Morning," he gurgled, slowly sitting up. Tracey (he just remembered her name!) was getting dressed. She looked lovely in the morning light. He liked waking up to a girl that made him not regret the night before.
"I gotta go baby," she said sweetly, "I gotta be at work in a bit."
"Well, can I get you some breakfast?" Billiam responded feebly. He loved making offers he knew he wouldn't have to fulfill.
"Thanks, sweetie, but I'll get something on the way. Don't get up. I'll let myself out. Call me." She kissed him on the forehead and walked out of the bedroom.
"Right ho," he replied. He wasn't sure if he got her number but it didn't matter since he wasn't going to call her anyway.
~~~~~
Billiam never seemed to make a good first impression, especially with the ladies he was really after. A rock star of some note, he was bound to attract attention but he never seemed to want anyone willing to throw themselves at him. He always preferred the girls who paid him no mind. Girls who seemed above it all. Girls who always seemed to have someplace better to be, meeting far better people. Girls for whom rock 'n' roll glamour meant nothing. (Of course, Billiam also knew that this was just an act: why would they choose to be in the vicinity of fame if they weren't attracted to it?) He respected their supposed aloofness and it made him miss being young in London and having to chase down every opportunity no matter how much of a longshot it was.
Tracey claimed she had been dragged out by co-workers and did the usual "have I seen you someplace before?" routine when she got chatting with Billiam the night before. This was a variation on the same story he always heard: pushy friends or colleagues twisted their arms to go out, they never typically went to nightclubs and they didn't think about trying to meet guys. They never seemed impressed to be in his presence, didn't appear drawn to him in any way and only seemed to be talking to him as if to pass the time in a place they felt uncomfortable.
These girls may not have been taken by him at first but they would slowly come round. Billiam was charming and sweet and always made them feel like they were the only girls that mattered. It just took a little time but they never let him down. They just wanted more, more, more.
~~~~~
He didn't awaken until the early afternoon and only then because the phone was ringing. It was Glenn, his manager, calling from London.
"It's another flop, mate," Glenn began without a greeting. Billiam didn't reply. "I'm sorry."
"'S aw-right, mate," Billiam responded nonchalantly.
"The record label isn't happy. I'm worried they might drop you."
The conversation continued for a bit with Glenn doing all the talking and Billiam giving token replies. He told his manager that he didn't care and that he'd made America his home and he didn't care what the English thought anymore. He was pretty sure he'd convinced Glenn but hadn't quite been able to convince himself. He knew there was something a bit strange about those British groups who hit big in the States but weren't able to cut it back home. He always chalked it up to Americans taking him seriously while being treated like a joke in his homeland but it still gnawed at him.
Putting down the phone, he got himself ready to head out. A tour was coming up and he had to get started on rehearsals. And he was looking to hit the clubs later.
~~~~~
He invited his touring band out after a productive rehearsal and they readily agreed. Jobbing musicians always knew that one of the perks of backing a popular solo artist was the chance of meeting women. Billiam led the fivesome into the club and they began scoping the joint but the singer made a bee line for the bar. Women would come to him, they figured.
It didn't seem like Billiam was looking around but he knew where everyone was. The women he had no interest in were the easiest to spot: they tended to stick closest to him. Beyond them, he had to check out the groups of friends enjoying their drinks and laughing. There was always one he had his eye on.
He first noticed Layla standing with a group who had given up looking for a table. She didn't seem to mind even as others in her pack kept searching for a place to sit down. Billiam tried not to stare, only glancing in her direction in short spurts. He would have to wait a bit to make his move and decided to get a round in for his bandmates. They weren't having too much luck but as soon as Billiam joined them they began attracting attention.
"I thought you were already with a girl," Larry the affable drummer commented.
"Nah," Billiam dismissed, "there's lots of time for that." Few knew how to play the long game as well as he did.
"Got anyone in mind?" inquired Rick the rhythm guitarist.
"Dunno," said Billiam as he looked around the room, trying his best to seem as noncommittal as possible. He wanted to make sure his chums were spoken for before he made his move.
He eventually approached Layla. She didn't appear surprised that he'd chosen her.
"'Ello. I'm Billiam."
"Yeah, I know. It's nice to meet you."
Billiam was impressed. She wasn't pretending not to know him like the girls he typically chatted up — but neither was she fawning all over him like the girls he didn't want. They spoke for a while and she agreed to have a drink with him. Their conversation continued for over an hour: she asked him about living in America compared to England, where he liked to go on holiday, hobbies and keeping his apartment tidy; he asked her about her job, family, books she's been reading and how she handled the pressures of being an independent woman in the eighties. This was going well and it was just about time to ask her if she wanted to get going.
"Listen, it's been great meeting you but I have to get going," Layla said suddenly. Billiam was surprised but he didn't panic. Girls often pulled out the old 'I gotta go' line but it never worked on him.
"You don't 'ave time for one mo' drink?"
"I'm sorry, my friends are waiting for me. But maybe we'll see each other again." Billiam still wasn't completely worried. As she stood up to go, he gave her a smoldering, 'come hither' look, the kind he had perfected over years of magazine shoots, the kind you could only pull off if it was perfectly natural, anyone who tried to hard wound up looking ridiculous.
"Take care," she smiled, not the least bit moved by his sex appeal. Billiam didn't move as she turned away. That night the members of his backing band all went home with women they met at the club but Billiam headed home by himself. Joey, his doorman, was stunned: he couldn't recall a time when he witnessed Billiam returning home all by himself.
~~~~~
The tour went well and Billiam hadn't lost a step, neither as a performer nor with the ladies. There were women available to him every evening in every city they visited and he usually took them up on their hospitality — it would be rude not to.
His records were also doing well. He now had Top 10 hits in the US, Canada, Australia and New Zealand and he was finally beginning to make inroads back in Britain. Critics who had always been hostile were beginning to warm up to him too. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was a joke back home. It would show them if one of those singles they spurned could make a comeback and prove them all wrong.
Getting back to New York after several months on the road, Billiam was unsure about going to the nightclubs and discotheques. The English pub round the corner suited him for the moment but he was also happy just to lie low at home with mates coming round for small gatherings. There were still plenty of women to choose from and he didn't have to revisit his failure from his previous night out.
"Why aren'cha comin' out anymore, man?" asked his buddy Lance, a restaurateur Billiam had known since first moving to New York four years earlier.
"I been on tour so long and I'm still knackered. It's nice t' be at 'ome, mate," he shrugged his shoulders. "I jus' wanna party 'ere!"
The phone rang. Billiam didn't feel like answering it and didn't want to take the call so he asked his chum Dave to take a message.
"It's your manager," Dave shouted. "He says your single is in the Top 10 in England."
Billiam didn't shoot and scream but everyone could tell he was excited. His mood perked up even though he assured everyone that he didn't care beyond the royalties he'd be getting.
"Come on," commanded Lance, "we gotta go out and celebrate!" Billiam still wasn't in much of a mood but he agreed. He didn't want to spoil everyone's fun.
~~~~~
"Good morning." Billiam awoke to a soft voice. He turned and looked at Layla.
"Morning."
"I had a great time last night."
"Yeah, me too."
"I'm so glad I bumped into you again. I wasn't sure if I would ever see you after our last encounter."
"Oh really?" Billiam asked, pretending not to know what she was on about.
"Yeah, I didn't want you to think of me as a cheesy rock groupie chick."
"Oh, come on love, I'd never think that. You're special."
She offered to make him breakfast but they ended up doing bacon and eggs together. He was going to be sorry to see her go.
Layla kissed him and went to leave.
"Call me."
"Right ho," he replied. He didn't get her number but it didn't matter since he wasn't going to call her anyway.
~~~~~
Also of some cop
Freddie Mercury: "Living on My Own"
Part 6: Billiam in the Shadows
Also of some cop
Freddie Mercury: "Living on My Own"
Part 6: Billiam in the Shadows
Billiam loves rock 'n' roll but he looks down upon a lot of older stars, especially if they stand in the way of his old school punk values. British stars in New York often form cliques but he won't just hang out with anyone, especially if they're older and are coming out of prog or hippie music or pomp rock. Then he meets Tanya, a vivacious girl who kind of digs him but who also seems to favour those hoary old rock geezers that he doesn't care for. She's hoping Billiam might be able to introduce her to one or two legends but he doesn't want them to steal his thunder. Then he remembers an old Queen who just happens to be in town. Can he get a rock god to lend a hand?
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