Buried Alive By Love | By : LittleMissDisaster Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > HIM Views: 1788 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of HIM. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Ville and Roxy were sitting in the house that HIM had rented while they mixed the new album, relaxing with a couple of beers, celebrating the end of the ordeal. Gas was thrilled. He was pretty thrilled by the whole album. It was the most metal one that they had done so far.
Of course it was called Lovemetal. The band was tired of trying to explain why they called their music “lovemetal” and they decided to make an album with the same title so they could hand it to people and say, “Here. This is Lovemetal.”
They thought it was very clever.
It had been three years and two albums since they had been trapped in the glass box by Jean Claude. Razorblade Romance, the album they recorded directly after escaping was one of the best ones they had ever recorded. Ville had gotten a lot of inspiration from Roxy. Songs like Razorblade Kiss, and Right Here in My Arms were inspired directly by their ordeal.
“Cheers to a job done, if not well, then to the best of our ability.” Ville said, saluting Roxy with his bottle.
Roxy giggled, “You know that this is by far the best album you guys have ever done.” But she toasted with him.
“So you say now. Let’s see if the fans like it.”
“You could make an album of farts and the fangirls and fanboys would buy it.”
He rolled his eyes and lit a cigarette, “Don’t bring them up please.”
“When’s Bam showing up?” she changed the subject.
“I’m not sure. He’s got some demo or other to go to and he’s supposed to show up here.”
“Well let’s go to Amoeba then.” She stood.
“Alright.” He stood with her and followed her out the door, “Which way are we going?”
She pointed to the left, “Sunset’s that way Ville.”
“Give me a break! I’ve been in L.A. for two weeks.” They walked down the street, heading for the greatest record store in California.
She jumped up and tugged his hat down over his eyes, “Two weeks is plenty long enough time to learn your way around this place. Everything is on the same three streets.”
“Let’s see,” he fixed is hat and squinted in the sunlight, “True Tattoo is that way, Amoeba, Barns and Nobel, Key Club and the House of Blues are down this way.” He pointed in the direction they were heading, “Headline Records and that shop with all the shoes are down that way on Melrose. The Knitting Factory, Music Box, and the cheesy tourist shops are down on Hollywood.” He glanced over at her, “Correct?”
She clapped, “See? I knew you knew where we were!” they crossed the street against the light and earned some angry honks.
“Barely. You know I can’t see three feet in front of my face.”
“And wouldn’t the girls in the front be disappointed to know that.” She stuffed her hands in her pockets, “Each one of them believes you are singing to her, but you can’t even see them.”
“Shh,” he placed a finger against his lips, “If they found out, we’d be finished.”
She gasped in mock alarm, “I thought you were Finnish!”
“Ha ha. You’re so funny Roxy. You’ve truly missed your calling as a comedian.”
“Oh you know I’m funny. You’re just too stubborn to admit it.”
“I’ll admit it once you actually start making some jokes.”
“Ouch.” She pulled an invisible knife out of her chest, “Uncalled for.”
“No, I think it was exactly called for.” He messed up her hair, looking up at the giant amoeba on top of the record store, “Hey that was fast.”
“Right. So are you going to hunt for that Cat Stevens album, or are you going to try and buy something cool?” she gave a slight curtsy as she preceded him through the door.
“Cat Stevens is cool!” he protested, “I should buy something else? What did you bring home last time? Coal Chamber?”
“Hey, just because they aren’t any good now that the bass player left does not mean that they didn’t have any good albums.” She grabbed one of the hand baskets by the metal detector, knowing this was going to be the last trip to Amoeba for a long while, since they were heading back to Europe in a couple of days, “Besides I bought some Mindless Self Indulgence, and Otep.” She glared at him, “You tell me Otep isn’t awesome. I dare you.”
He held up his hands in surrender, “I would never say that! Mostly because I’m afraid that singer would kick the shit out of me.” He grabbed his own hand basket, “So I’ll be looking for that awesome Cat Stevens CD.” He waved to her, “See you in the vinyl section.” He walked off and went into the used folk music sector of the store, mumbling about the greatness of classic rock to himself.
All together, the band had faired well after their ordeal. Ville was the only one who was out a girlfriend, and he wasn’t as upset over it as he thought he was going to be. The bitch ran out on him while he was missing, she obviously wasn’t that great. The rest of the guys still had their girls. They had decided to tell only their immediate families what had really happened. The world at large thought they’d just disappeared to get some new material together for the next album. HIM was more popular than ever. Almost two years straight had been spent on the road touring. No one had heard a peep from Jean Claude.
As far as he knew. Sometimes he would catch Roxy hanging up the phone on the verge of tears.
She had moved in with him a few weeks after the big break out, enjoying her new found freedom to do as she pleased, when she pleased and to hell with what anyone thought. And they thought a lot of things. Rumor had it that she was Ville’s new girlfriend, picked up from where ever it was that he’d disappeared to. She was the reason his ex fiancé had left him so quickly. They were supposed to get married in the fall, every fall for the last three years, and every once in a while she popped up pregnant. That upset her.
“I’m not even fat!” she would throw the offending tabloid across the room, “That dress just had a weird roll when I sat!”
The public would be shocked to know that they weren’t lovers. They were really only friends and roommates. They went out together to concerts and movies and other events because Ville’s real lover was nervous about what the world would think about their relationship. “And he’s always out of town anyway.” Ville sighed to himself.
He shook his head and concentrated on the thrill of the hunt. He was about to give up when his cell phone rang, the familiar CKY song heralding his lover’s call. He opened the phone, “Hello Bam Bam.”
“Hi Ville. Where are you?” Bam said brightly.
“Roxy and I are down at the record shop.” He began to walk toward the vinyl.
“Which one?”
“Amoeba.”
“Oh, can you pick me up the new Cradle of Filth? I haven’t had a chance to go out shopping yet.”
“Of course darling.” He detoured to the metal aisle, “69 Eyes are here too.” He said as he passed the album.
“Grab it!”
“Already did.” He picked up another CD, “Roxy made fun of me because I like folk music.”
“Sweetie, I make fun of you for liking folk music.” Bam pointed out.
“Yes, I know.” Ville pouted.
“Roxy left her phone here.” Ville could here her ringtone over the phone.
“I don’t know why she even has it.” He sighed, “Is it anyone important?”
There was a pause, “Screen says ‘JC.’ Anyone you know?”
Ville almost dropped his phone and the basket. Bam didn’t connect it with Jean Claude. Ville had glossed over the details of his captivity when it came time to tell him about it, including Roxy’s history, and how very long it was, “Oh, I don’t think that’s too important.” He lied, “We’ll be home soon love okay?” he hung up and went to find Roxy.
She was perusing the Psychobilly albums and looked up from the Demented Are Go case she held in her hand, “Done already?”
“Yeah. Bam’s home. He said you left your mobile there.”
She shook her head, “I need to just tie it to my wrist like some mittens.”
“It rang.” He acted interested in a Reverend Horton Heat CD, “Caller ID showed JC. Anyone important?”
The case clattered to the floor, “Shit!” she bent to pick it up, “No, not really. Just some guy in Denmark.”
“Alright.” Ville let it go, knowing that he would jump on her about it once they were on the airplane back to Finland and she couldn’t escape, “Are you ready to go? I’m getting hungry.”
“Sure.” She said quickly, “Let’s get out of here.”
“Are you going to come out with me and Bam tonight?”
She shook her head, “Nah. I think I’ll stay home tonight and let you go out without the third wheel tonight.”
“You’re not the third wheel Roxy.” He threw an arm around her shoulders, “I love you.”
She smiled up at him, “I love you too Willa.”
“Still want to sit at home?”
“Definitely. Do you have any idea how nauseating you two get when you’re about to be separated? It’s terrible.” She shuddered, “I’d rather skip that if it’s all the same to you.”
“Suit yourself.” He shrugged. If Roxy was going to stay home, he’d just take Bam out to some quite little restaurant and maybe a movie. Bam had to go back to Pennsylvania in the morning, and Ville wouldn’t see him for another two weeks. He wanted to make sure Bam would come running to him next time they saw each other.
~*~Hello loves. i'm back and so are the characters from my last fic. hope you like, i promise a bit of smut this time! make me happy and review?~*~md
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