Rock Me Amadeus

[divineviolinist]

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[knowsit]

This was not a good day, not by any mark of the imagination. So far today he'd had his books stolen, his jacket ripped and he got an B- in his history exam. And on top of all of that, he accidentally collided into the back of a rather hulking great football player who swore to 'beat him into tar' if he so much as saw him again today. Which was unfortunate given they were in the same maths class and it inevitably ended with him running for his life after the lesson.

Hence why William was now hiding in the music room, crouched behind a piano, desperately wishing he had cotton and thread to fix the damage done to his new jacket. Mother had only just brought it for him and she'd be distraught if she saw it damaged. And worried. He hardly wanted her to know that he was one of the least popular people in the school.

Especially after his journal had been stolen and his poetry had been exposed.

He heard someone enter the room and cautiously peered over the piano he was hiding behind, highly doubting those brutes knew where the music room was, let alone enter it. Instead, he was greeted with the sight of Nicolas, something greatly relieving because he was certain he wasn't in any trouble with him. He was an all right fellow, he didn't know him amazingly but he always seemed polite, never tried to hit him or ignore him and best of all, he probably wouldn't rat him out to anyone looking for him.

Not that he intended to alert Nicolas to his secret hiding place or anything. He just had to stay here for the rest of his free period then tactically run all the way home without stopping once. Easy.

[divineviolinist]

Nicki's family had money, but he was very quickly beginning to realize that this meant very little when he wanted to spend money on things his father didn't approve of. Naturally that just meant that he had to sell almost everything he owned to get what he did want, which was why he no longer owned a backpack or any school books. Or, actually, much of anything aside from what he was currently wearing, but he was fine with that. He didn't really care about his clothes, aside from thinking that them looking worn and being dark fit him just fine.

What he cared about was what he kept on his back instead of the backpack. He put the violin case down on the piano and snapped the latches open, getting out his instrument. He didn't waste time, he had already wasted too much of his life. Instead he lifted the violin to his chin almost immediately and started playing. It's what he liked about it, challenging and fast and too much to really grasp and really too much for him to do it right.

It was also what he hated about it. He kept playing, repeating the same parts over and over and then just ending on a completely different note, because the hell with it. He put the violin back down finally, walking over to the wall to kick it and really not caring about the black streak he left on it. He muttered some curses under his breath while glaring at his hands, which was about as effective as anything.

[knowsit]

It was truly beautiful, that's what William took note of as he sat there listening to it, wishing his books hadn't been stolen and lost this morning. He had so many beautiful ideas brimming in his head, so many wonderful words and ideas. His ink stained fingers twitched excitedly as he listened to the gentle music, in awe of how brilliant this Nicolas chap seemed to play. Though he couldn't help but notice the more he played, the more angry the notes got.

And when he heard the kick, he jumped out of his skin, banging his head hard on the side of the piano. Well, he hadn't expected such anger to come from such beauty, it took him by surprise. The noise he made was hardly subtle and he figured that if he remained where he was, he'd probably get into trouble so very carefully, he took a chance and looked up over the piano at Nicolas, sheepishly offering a shy smile.

"I-I wasn't spying on you! I assure you, this isn't anything deviant," Though protesting it made it sound like it was. Bollocks. "I was just hiding here. From people. Not to spy on you, that was never my intent." Oh God he hoped he didn't hit him like he hit that wall.

[divineviolinist]

"You couldn't have known I'd come here," Nicolas pointed out to calm him down, not quite sure what he'd done to freak him out that much. Sure, he got into fights, but that was just because he had the habit of insulting people when they were worth insulting and it wasn't as if he'd ever been a bully. He looked at him for a while longer, then finally recalled the name. "William, right? I'm hiding here too." From people, the world, responsibility. Mostly the latter.

[knowsit]

"Yes, that's me. William Pratt, it's an absolute pleasure. And you're Nicolas," William smiled slightly and finally came out from his awkward hiding position, straightening his back a little and trying his best to look more confident than he really was. "It's a good place to hide, not many people come here and so few who can play as beautifully as you. I don't believe I've ever heard someone make music like that." He could still hear it in his head, he sort of missed it. He wished he could create something as amazing as that. "You're really very talented."

[divineviolinist]

"Thank you. I'm not that talented. I just try to practice. I'd like it to sound the way it does in my head. It's never quite right. I wish I could grasp at the true music." Nicolas realized that he must sound as if he was out of his mind, so he offered a smile and shrugged his shoulders. "The hell with it, right?"

He walked over to the wall he'd hit before, this time to lean against it. Pulling out a pack of cigarettes, he first took one out for himself, then offered the pack to Spike. "Who're you hiding from?"

[knowsit]

"Well perfect or not, I think it's transcendent. The very peek of delectation. If only I had fingers as deftly as yours," William insisted, knowing he was no expert on music but he was certainly no stranger to creativity and beauty. And he knew both when he saw them. Nicolas was quite the player, he really wished he could play an instrument like that. He knew the guitar, in the classic sense, but he stopped taking lessons a good few years ago and he doubted he could ever create something like Nicolas did.

At the offer of the packet, William stared for a while. Perhaps longer than he should have. He'd never smoked before, he didn't quite know if he wanted to or not. His mother wouldn't approve but Nicolas was being nice to him and he didn't want to accidentally offend him. He took a cigarette before he knew what he was doing, awkwardly holding it with great care and curiosity. "Erm, Johnson. I may have accidentally walked into him while writing this morning and he took it as an offence. Not to worry, it'll be fine. I've learned I can out run him on the way home if I take my shortcuts."

[knowsit]

The opera was, as it always was, a complete snoozefest. And the last place in the world Spike wanted to be. He was only here because Angel and Darla were on a date and she always quite like this whole poxy nonsense and, to his own rotten luck, she had spare tickets. Tickets he had tried to deny. Unfortunately, Drusilla liked the idea of the opera and here he was, bored half to death, trying to stay focus and not fall asleep. He had been texting to amuse himself but Angel had stolen his phone, he'd been to the bathroom twice now to kill some time and each time he got angry glares from the people he had to get by and finally, he settled for leaning forward and idly watching.

The music wasn't bad, just wasn't to his style. He wanted to sit at home, listen to his old Sex Pistols CD's and dance with Dru, not watching some loud lady sing her heart in a weird poncy language he couldn't understand.

It wasn't intentional that he started to watch the musicians, he just found their finger work rather fascinating. Mostly because of his own dirty thoughts but hey, whatever got him through this. It wasn't until his eyes set on a rather stunning violinist that familiarity dawned. By the end of the show, he was practically leaning off his seat, his eyes focused on his object of interest, unable to break it. He barely remembered to clap when it was over.

"I know him," Spike said to not one in particular, his eyes lighting up.

"What? Who?" Angel gritted his teeth, trying to keep his voice down so they didn't piss off the others in their row. Again. Honestly, sometimes Spike was like the poster child for ADD.

"The violinist. No, no, that one. With the long hair. I know him! How -- How do I talk to musicians after this bloody thing? Can I got to the backdoor or what?" Spike asked as he bounced up and down, trying to see over the standing ovation to check out where the musicians were going. Turning to Dru with a smile, he took her hand and playfully waggled his eyebrows. "Want to sneak backstage?"

[saintcorrupted]

"I'll take you anywhere," Drusilla assured him, although usually she just got them lost. It didn't keep her from holding Spike's hand and watching his face, loving that childish enthusiasm. "We can find him for you." She was full of confidence, even though they had yet to make it past the other people in their row.

"He's pretty. Let me know him too, yes?"

[knowsit]

"We're not having him, pet. We just want to meet him," Maybe talk to him, convince him to join his merry band of musical morons. There had been worse ideas. With a bright smile, he hurried down the stairs and towards the stage, only to be pushed back by security. Bollocks. It took a good long while to find a way around them but after a lot of distractions, noise and chaos, they were finally back stage. And by God did they stick out. Among all the well dressed musicians stood Spike, the very vision of punk, and his rather beautiful sometimes girlfriend, Drusilla. Who looked like a Victorian had accidentally fallen into the 21st century.

"All right, let's find out bloke," Spike moved through the crowd, eyes trying to find his missing violinist. He didn't know why he wanted to see him, what he was going to say, what the point of this was. But that was that.

[saintcorrupted]

To even things out, it really wasn't as if most of the musicians really lived up to the well dressed image once put under closer scrutiny. Most of their clothes barely fit, clearly just rented or borrowed instead of owned and they didn't exactly talk nobly either. Nicolas had already stripped down to just the trousers by the time Drusilla spotted him and she started to excitedly tug on Spike's arm. He had a cigarette behind his ear, several rings on his fingers and was really just trying to finish changing as quickly as he could.

"There he is, Spike, we found him! Let's take him away."

[knowsit]

"Dru, for Christ sake, let's be a little quieter. You'll get us kicked out," Spike tried with a concerned frown, looking at Nicolas from where they stood, wanting to make a move but fearing what would happen if he did. What did he even say? 'Hello, remember me? I used to spy on you' wasn't the best start and he wasn't found of dredging up the whole William thing again. He'd only just shed that whole mess. So instead Spike pulled a scrap of paper from his pocket and gave Dru a playful smile. "Time to act, love. Play along and don't give me away."

They approached Nicolas carefully and Spike shoved out the piece of paper as soon as he had Nicolas's attention. "Oi, mate, give us your autograph? My girl here loves how you play and God knows why but she wants your signature scrawled. Do you mind?"

[divineviolinist]

"You can also scrawl all over somewhere else," Drusilla played along obligingly by ways of touching Nicolas's arm and pressing herself up against him. Maybe it was telling that Nicolas hardly even blinked and even some of his colleagues who took note just rolled their eyes and muttered something about violinists.

But Spike had at least achieved his goal in some ways, as Nicolas barely spared him more than a glance as he took the piece of paper and borrowed a pen from someone to sign it, while Drusilla hung onto him the entire time, ever so obligingly only having eyes for him.

"You're very pretty."

"And you're beautiful, love. You'll make your boyfriend jealous though."

[divineviolinist]

Nicolas had some good replies for the usual comments on his violin case. People weren't very creative. He liked carrying his violin around, never knew when inspiration might strike and it was by far his most valuable possession. He wasn't even sure why he was here. Well, he was, he just had no idea why he'd really wanted to.

So the guy may or may not be William. Nicolas remembered seeing the black plectrum necklace on him, but many people had those. He'd come to look for him, but he had never even attempted to be civil and he hadn't reacted when he called out his name. But either way, he was there, sitting in a corner and drinking beer from the bottle while he waited for the band to start playing.

[knowsit]

Their band was pretty good all things considered, they had good songs, good rhythm, they were a little chaotic but that definitely added some charm, Spike could sing well, Angel worked his guitar like it was an appendage and Xander kept time with the drums, occasionally going to town and smashing at them like they were his worst enemies. The girls clearly loved them for whatever crazy reason. And hell, Drusilla just sort of ... did whatever. She'd dance, she'd sing, she'd play the oddest instruments. Spike never once lost a lyric or a note as he let her pet his hair, seductively dance with him, sometimes just poke him. Fortunately tonight wasn't a poking night.

The guys loved her too but anyone who tried to make a move was soon attacked. It just wasn't worth it.

The song Spike was singing to open with was a song that had recently come back into his mind. One of first loves, of seeing a beautiful artist excel, of being too shy to act. It was a harsh and oddly painful song but there was beauty there, an strange sort of fondness. It was one of the first songs he'd ever written, a reworking of a poem he'd written not long after Nicolas had left him. After seeing him the other day, the words were fresh in his head.

[divineviolinist]

It was strange, but the moment Spike sang, Nicolas was certain. Not because of the words themselves, because he didn't even pay attention at first, but the way he held himself, the way his face moved. Add glasses, take off a couple of years and a lot of bleach and there he was, little William. Cute William, who'd compliment his music, always gentle, always sweet. Too sweet for the world and apparently the world had caught up with him.

Nicolas just watched him, watched his lips move and listened, subconsciously adding to the music, but mostly just taking in the moment. The lyrics, he should probably have paid attention sooner. William had to have written them himself, he knew that much. It didn't occur to Nicolas even for a moment that the song could be about him, but he felt satisfied. He had clearly been right.

[knowsit]

He certainly wasn't sweet William any more. His next song was about aggressively fucking someone he hated, the one after that was an epic love ballad to his love of punching certain people he didn't like and when one bloke yelled out during his set, he threw his beer bottle at him and proceeded to launch into a Friggin' in the Riggin' cover to drown out any protests, clearly more than a little drunk and having a hell of a time. They finally took a break after that, Angel pushing Spike off the stage before he threw anything else or started any other fights. They had to play a few more songs before they left but until then, Spike wanted a drink.

He stumbled up to the bar and dropped his cash onto it, giving the bartender a look. "I got three more sodding songs left to do, get me some booze to get through it," Spike turned away to light up, despite the no smoking signs, pausing when he caught sight of a familiar person in the corner. He accidentally caught Nicolas's eyes and he couldn't turn away. God, why was he staring like a complete prat?

[divineviolinist]

There were so many reasons to want to move past a name and Nicolas could imagine a few for William without having to get creative. Nicolas didn't use his last name any more, hadn't for years now and he didn't plan to ever do it again. But he'd like William to at least acknowledge that they knew each other. So he raised his beer to him when he caught his eyes, smiling openly. Hey, he had been more or less asked to come here.

Spike. He'd have to get used to it. Maybe it fit him. But now that he was certain, even with all this new style and attire, it was difficult to not still see the boy from all those years ago.

[knowsit]

Spike debated for a while going over as he exhaled smoke slowly into the air, reaching out to grab his whiskey off the counter. He didn't move for a long while, he went to see Drusilla first, making sure Angel and Xander were keeping an eye on her and not letting her pick up the lowest of the low in this place. He was not kicking another heroin addict or homeless bloke out of his room again, it was getting very tedious.

Eventually, he plucked up the courage and moved to Nicolas, pulling out the seat next to him and dropping down, setting his whiskey on the table and smirking playfully at the other. "Came to here some real music, did you? Good man, wise move. Liking what you see?"

[divineviolinist]

Things had been going well for weeks now. Nicolas played with the band, played with Spike and his mind was on Spike more than anything until the moment when Lestat was there and blended out everything else the way only Lestat could. But Lestat had less and less time for him and he never gave an explanation. It was starting to drive him insane. Nights alone in the room he shared with Lestat, listening to recordings of Spike singing and pretending that his heart wasn't being broken. Because he didn't want to believe that Lestat was moving on from him, but if not, then why was he alone?

Lestat had bought him a new jacket, but he was nowhere to be found. He went out and he forbid Nicolas to come with him. He didn't need to be protected, he needed to be loved. So he drank and texted Spike, because Lestat hardly ever replied any more.

Do you want me?

[knowsit]

Spike was in his room, sprawled on his bed, listening to the noise of Angel and Drusilla in the other room. She didn't want love tonight, she wanted to be punished. That was what Angel liked to do, that was his thing. Not so different from his brother after all. He had turned the TV on nice and loud but what did that do? It didn't drown it out. It didn't stop it from being what it was.

He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and he frowned, pulling it free and looking it over. Nicolas was the brightest spark in his life at the moment, the thing he wanted but he knew he couldn't have. Their band was slowly gaining momentum, they'd recorded music and were slowly getting more recognition but only because he was more inspired, he was really trying lately. His songs had meaning because Nicolas gave it to him. He read the message a few times before he decided on what to say. It may very well be a mistake but what did he even have to lose? He was no stranger to a broken heart.

When have I ever not wanted you?

[divineviolinist]

The answer made him smile and that hurt. Lestat had said he never smiled unless it was to be cruel. Lestat said so many things when he was in a rage and probably high on whatever drugs it was he took and he thought he saw him clear and knew everything about him. But maybe he was right. Who knew?

I wouldn't know. You're very good at hiding yourself.

[knowsit]

You're taken, remember? And not really looking. I'm being a good boy, Dru thinks it's sweet. I think it's a ball ache.

Well, if he was doing this, he was being painfully honest about it. Hell, all he wanted to do was be with Nicolas but what was he supposed to do when Nicki had a boyfriend and never seemed to make any sort of move. He flirted, he said nice things but nothing ever lead anywhere. He'd asked his band for advise and they all told him the same thing, Nicolas wasn't interested in him as long as he had Lestat. And he had him so what luck did he have?

[divineviolinist]

Yeah.

To him being taken. To it being sweet. Definitely to it being a ball ache. Nicolas stared at his phone and drank, until he leaned back on the wall, tears in his eyes for all that mattered.

He doesn't want me. He never says it and he takes me, but he doesn't want me.

I'm just dark and empty inside, did you know? I drag him down when he's doing so well. My fault.

[knowsit]

Some blokes just don't know what they have. I told you once and I'll tell you again, he's a twat. And twat like that doesn't have any opinion worthwhile

He didn't understand how anyone could have Nicolas and not love him like he wanted to. He didn't know why he wanted to love him so much and so desperately wanted to be loved in return but he did. Nicolas had been his first love, the first of his peers to be so kind to him. He changed his life in so many ways and he wasn't sure how he was supposed to just let go to that.

Dark and empty? In you? Bollocks. The way that you play, you can't be empty. There's something horribly beautiful inside you just bursting to get out. Like fire. Burns to touch, painful and bright, just it's almost hypnotic. And it's dazzling. He was lucky enough to get close to you, not your fault that he can't appreciate it.