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A world full of nothing	By : martinette77 Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Depeche Mode Views: 1365 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do 'not know the members of the band Depeche mode or am i making profit from this story it is fiction

Chapter List
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FOOTNOTE!! the words of Martin are actually from the Magazine Article
1

My Name is Molly and I have been working with journalism for only a few weeks. As I sit in this typical English pub with chess games that seem to go on around me, I watch, Listen and note things my colleague says whilst interrogating some poor bloke from Depeche mode.
I have sat in a few times in my training and some bands are uncooperative as it were. Others just go on until the interviewer is brain dead. Some cheeky, or like Martin, sits and puts up with it.
As Danny talks Martin just keeps in inner monologue going, by answering in his own way as Danny picks on his dressing and his songs.
“I’m quite a pessimistic person and I see life as quite boring. So I kind of see our stuff as… Love and Sex and Drink against the Boredom of Life. When I write love songs people think they’re really soppy, but I see love as… a consolation for the boredom of life. And drink and sex… “Personally speaking I think we’re quite decadent. When we’re on tour, which is generally very boring, we, or some of us, tend to go out every night, have a lot to drink and generally have a good time. Consolation, see? I know it’s all expected of rock bands, but going out is enjoyable, drinking is enjoyable and collapsing is enjoyable.”
‘Wow this bloke is something! He is just myself’ I think as I watch his mouth move, his lips barley open as he finishes the sentence. His eyes move, looking around everywhere other than eye contact with Danny or myself.
‘Aw he is so shy and sweet’ I found myself nibbling and running the end of the pen over my own cherry coloured lips, staring at ewe at the cute blonde man, wearing a leather skirt and jacket, not leaving much to the imagination as that was only thing covering what I could make out under the necklaces, a smooth chest.
The way he spoke and the depth of his mind intrigued me. I know his slightly cold, defensive approach, like he was rebelling by putting his opinions strongly was the way he coped and handle being interviewed. I know Danny can be pig headed and little sarcastic at times.
He pressed on and I sighed, feeling damn right embarrassed by this now.
“It’s just this, Mart: yes, DM have made some spanking good records, and yes, DM have kept us all on our toes by incorporating, using, then moving on, but it’s all happened at such a sedate, civilised pace. Depeche Mode never does anything extreme, disturbing or dirty.
Don’t you ever get the urge to smash through this self-imposed restraint to set yourself and Depeche Mode dizzyingly free? Don’t you ever feel like casting off all the consideration, all the ticka-ticka Timex precision, and pummelling this music into extremis, to really let rip?”
“I want to represent life’s boredom…”
“Sorry I asked.” Danny whispered back at me from the side of his mouth.
“… and if you take things to absurd extremes you’re not really reflecting life. Real life is not extreme, so we’re not, and nor is our music.”
I cringed inwardly and accidently made a sound that caught his attention with a slight smile forming on his subdue full pink lips.
I blushed and brought the pad to my chest, smiling like a stupid teen fan girl.
His green eyes focused and burrowed into my soul. My heart jumped, my stomach tightened as his captivating gaze turned me to jelly.
I curved my Blonde curly bobbed hair around my ear and averted my eyes.
The end was here and I felt my heart sink, as I probably won’t see him again, at least for a while if we assigned for a new interview once more success come their way. I live in hope for this moment as I feel his hand slip into mine, then jolted with a careful handshake.
The fingertips of the right hand now tingled once his soft skin left mine. I was shaving visibly. He noticed and again charmed me with his timid smile.
I literally felt my knees weaken, and once we left my interest for him / the band grew.
“You could have cut him some slack Dan,” I said as we got into the car and viciously pulled the belt over me. Now that warm feeing was replaced by embarrassment and annoyance.
“Molly,” He stops with a cigarette hanging from his mouth then glares at me. “It is my job... and if you are going to go places in this work then you have to drop the sympathy act. We need to be tough and assertive with these people.”
“Yes but not ridiculed…” I stopped as his pale grey eyes glared again.
I dropped my head. He was right I was being unprofessional by letting Martin steal my heart.
“Sorry,” I sighed.
“Got all down?” He then looked at the pad. I blushed and realised that I have only parts, and that Martin’s voice, his presents distracted me from my own duty.
“Um...” He snatches it from me looks then scowls. “What’s this? You only have the first questions.” He throws it back at me and puffs on the Marlboro light. He had been trying to give up making his moods unbearable at times.
“I’m sorry but I remember what he said, everything is here,” I pointed then tapped my temple and preyed I did.
“Not good enough Molly! You have to pull your finger out more or you will be sacked. We can’t do with sloppiness. Now write it down, and I will let this one go for now. Just don’t let the boss know you were spending the interview drooling over that pretty boy.”
My heart jumped again, and I felt my cheeks burn, nodding and thinking with a frown as I stared at the words in biro. His soft voice then ran through my mind, and all of a sudden I remembered everything.
I returned to London after a long working six months. I had my time off and decided to gather a few friends and hit some clubs for a well deserved night out. It had been too long and overdue.
During this time I bought Depeche modes latest album ‘Black celebration’ hoping to delve deeper into the band’s music and of course the songwriter. I not yet had time to listen to it properly as my friends distracted me from it with rattling on about the night ahead. Hanna told me to turn that rubbish off and was I deeply insulted.
It was on ‘A question of Lust’ I paused to listen. Martin’s incredible voice ran through me like wave adrenalin. I grinned and told Hanna and Kirsty that I was there when he was interviewed, quite ecstatically actually.
The girls looked at me like I was insane and nodded with a small ‘oh wow,’ not over impressed as they were more into the likes Of Duran Duran and Spandau Ballet. Philistines!
Argh no taste’ I groaned to myself, tapping the stop button before I even had a chance to take in his lyrics, remembering what he said at the interview on Love and sex.. Oh sex now there’ a thought.
“Molly are we going or what?” Hanna broke my daydream.
“Yes coming” I picked up my bag and glanced back at the case, sighing deeply. ‘Maybe I will get a chance tomorrow.’
We hit a few pubs then wondered over to the ‘Electric Ballroom.’
It was a great atmosphere and packed. I could hardly move through the crowds. As always desperate to get to the bar and get a good drink down my neck and get absolutely hammered.
My friends love it when I come out as I am always the entertainment for the evening.
I would fall off chairs or roll down the road as I am unable to walk through being paralytic. I fell out of a taxi and one of my friends, Vikky, who had just recovered from her operation, was almost bursting her stitches through laughing so hard. I was lucky I always wore my Docs as I was sure to break my neck one day.
They waited for my drunken state for this long and now we are all back and on the loose.
We met Sarah and Jackie there, already chatting up a group of Simon le Bon clones.
We wondered over a joined in the fun, it was always fun to flirt even if they weren’t my taste, I was always picky.
As the night went on two of my friend decided to leave early. I called them boring cows jokingly, and stayed on with Jackie and Hanna, who was told to keep and eye on me and made sure I got home safely. I replied drunken “Oh I will be alright.”
Not thinking of anything to do with work, I stumbled over to the Ladies.
It was a bit of queue so I bumped against the wall with my usual attitude look on my face, and folded my bangles filled arms.
As I stared into space I was suddenly brought back by a voice and the familiar frame, and hair that stood opposite me, queuing for the gents. I picked up a comment of “You should be over there mate,” By a rather brash ‘up his own arse’ bouncer who was pointing in my direction of the Ladies. As a watched this small mans face drop and a taller darker man pull him away before he smacked him one, I realized who it was! Martin! And the guy behind him was Alan? I was sure from the pictures and videos I have seen.
I couldn’t believe it! It was him, he was here. But I couldn’t approach him not after that embarrassing interview. He would probably tell me to piss off, or not want to speak to me thinking I was paparazzi and stalking him. No I couldn’t
He was finally escorted away by Alan and disappeared. What were the chances of seeing him again in this crowed place? I hadn’t seen him in the three hours I had been here.
Or maybe he had just arrived? I kept the questions in my mind as I rushed into the cubicle before peeing myself.
I decided to leave my friends and go for a wonder by myself, as I do sometimes to see who was about, and not have my friends watching me and take the piss. I weaved in and out of sweaty grooving bodies in hope of seeing him.
But then I heard a song. I stopped on the Dance floor and realized it was ‘Master and servant.’ Now I knew this was Depeche mode and started to get excited.
I must have looked like a retard dancing the way I was to this song, a smile planted on my lips and twirling with my arms out like human helicopter, not concerned who got in my way. I didn’t care! I was drunk and having fun and now dancing to a band I have become fond of.
Suddenly my arm hits something solid and high pitched grunt followed of who I hit. “Oh I am so sorry! I love this band,” I said grinning inanely before seeing who this innocent bystander was.
As I looked up my heart leaped up to my throat, and I just died.
He was there looking down at me, smiling in his kind manner. “It’s ok” He chuckled. He then frowned in question as he thought recognized me “Aren’t’ you the..?
“…Yes I was with that interviewer with NME Last year. I’m sorry if he came across... I was so embarrassed.”
“Oh no, I’m used to it” He said. “They are all the same... well sometimes” He winked and my knees weakened again.
“Can I get you a drink?” I asked rather forwardly, cringing again.
“Yes ok Thank you”
I was mouthing ‘Oh my god’ as he followed me to the bar. Looking back to make sure he was still there and not dragged off by another fan. No he was right behind me all the way.
Once we got there I started to feel nervous. The alcohol helped a little, but as he casually lent on the bar I found myself drawn into him.
It was the most intense minutes of my life, as the staff hurried to serve the amount of customers, having to wait and feeling nothing but awkwardness. I fiddled with the bangles and shyly smiled at him. I hoped he would start a conversation.
‘C’mon Molly you are training to be a journalist! Talk, say something ask him something. Think interview’
I cleared my throat and just let my lips move.
“So… Um you have a new album?”
‘NO not the band talk! Ask him how he’s doing. Treat him like a normal everyday person you would meet here.’
With relief he nodded with interest. “Yes this month.”
“That’s great” I was awkward again. “I just bought it actually”
“Oh good, Do you like it?”
My cheeks burned red as I actually hadn’t got round to playing it, plus I was never familiar to them, well not fully. I mean I liked what I have heard on the radio so far. Maybe read them in some magazines like you do with interest in music. And my job I have to research as much as I can.
“Yes, well to be honest I haven’t had a chance to listen to it all yet. I only brought it today” I bit my lip and felt stupid. But his face brightened.
“It was released Monday released!”
“Really!?! Oh well not too behind then,” I giggled and flinched. To the rescue the bartender came and asked us what we wanted. Silly me hadn’t asked Martin that yet, and wondered what he liked and maybe I will have the same?
“Martin, what are you drinking?” I asked politely.
“Pilsner please.”
“German beer? I guessed you might,” I sneakily tired to impress.
“Yes, the habits of being out there for so long.”
“Yes I read you recorded albums in … Berlin?”
“That’s right” He nodded and thanked me as the Girl with sleek jet black hair passed him his drink.
“Oh I will have the same then,” I blushed as she looked at me moodily on what I wanted. She rolled her eyes and fetched another bottle from the fridge.
That short conversation broke the ice a little, but didn’t help ease my bashfulness.
“Its ok I’m not interviewing you,” I suddenly said to crack the ice more with some humour.
He came out with the most amazing sounding laugh I have ever heard, and suddenly I felt the security blanket fold over me. He was ok and pretty laid back, not like how he was when I saw him last.
I admired him for how he wore such outrageous clothes in this pretty normal club. Not as I saw him before in a skirt and jacket. The cowboy hat and makeup, maybe a little less extravagant this time.
He had on a white T-shirt with something saucy on it, but it was partly covered by leather braces that crossed over his chest.
Again leather trousers and what seems to be a belt fasten in an interesting way, but I wasn’t about to go staring at his crotch to have a better look.
“Your T-shirt is cool” I commented.
He looked down and smiled “Thank you!”
“I guess you like to express a lot” ‘Oh fuck! Why did you say that Molly?’ “I mean I admire your style, it’s really cool” He responded in thanking me again and I found his eyes looking over me. “Yours too.”
I almost fell back as he complemented me. “Oh just stuff I found in the wardrobe” I blushed again.
I was wearing a pink poker dot and black and white zebra striped Tutu skirt, with holy fishnets and black Doc Martens. A black lacy strappy top with accessories. A studded dog collar around my neck, and silver bangles around my wrists. My hair pulled back loosely in four bands to make it look like a slightly feminine Mohawk and then blond curls of my fringe loose and lay over my forehead. I liked the punk look, and it was my style. I never liked following the fashion or be like everyone else, I wanted to be different, and I think Martin picked up on that.
“Different, kind of punk!” He emphasized ‘punk; in his own way of speaking.
“Thanks well I am into a bit of punk, but I like a lot of other things like Human league and Kraftwerk,”
“Ah yeah Kraftwerk are amazing!”
“You like them?”
“Oh yes I like them.”
“Cool what else?” I let my elbow support my head as I asked.
“Many things really, Lenard Cohen, Um… Gary Glitter”
I started to snicker and he rolled his eyes playfully “No Not Garry glitter” I mocked and wrinkled up my nose.
“Yes in fact I liked the glam rock really. From a young age I found my mothers record collection and started getting into it.”
“Really? Me too! I really like Marc Bolen. I found my parents records and got into him. T. Rex.”
He now grinned at these mutual interests. ”Great!”
“Yes.” I became shy again as the conversation died a little.
“Would you mind spending time in my company for a bit?” He then asked and caught me by complete surprise as I though that was it.
“Sure” my face lightened up.
“Let’s find a table, if there are any free.”
I followed him back through the people, not believing he actually want to spend time and talk more. It was a good start as I must have grabs his interests, in general things or other wise. I then thought no! He just wanted to chat and be friendly. I couldn’t think he would be interested in a short dumpy girl like me. Plenty of pretty girls around, and fans for him to grab, unless... He was gay? Maybe he was as he was only talking and not coming on to me? Typical if he was gay, I quite fancied him.
We found a small side table free. Sat talked and found more in common than I thought. His introvert ways as he spoke to me, telling me how he likes to feel free and stripping naked in the early years, if not still did. But he laughed and promised he wasn’t going to do that in my company.
Myself had the same traits. Loud and flamboyant when drunk or in company I feel comfortable in, but quiet shy pensive and sensitive when sober, almost unreadable to others as I am closed tight, not letting anyone see me or my emotions. A quiet sufferer I would say, I never let anyone see me cry. There is a lot to me than what people might see. I think Martin is the same.
When it came to sex he was so open. Like he had know me for years, like I was one of the band members, who I didn‘t see around in this time as we chatting.
I expressed, feeling comfortable about the subject. He listens with interest and laughed with me, as I went on about my drunken clumsiness.
“You and me must go out together sometime, what a pair we would be. And I can hear Dave now “Oh God two Martin Gore’s stumbling about.” He impersonated the singer in a funny way, even exaggerating his east accent.
“Yes but he probably wouldn’t mind me stripping,” I joked and Martin laughed loud in that crazy way again.
“I like you. I don’t think I have even met someone who was likewise to myself.”
“Really?! But there is a difference.” I became serous and studied his pretty soft looking face.
“Oh?”
“Yes your music, lyrics” I watched as he dropped his head, clearly hiding his modesty. “I mean I try and write songs, but it just never comes. Like it’s blocked then I hear yours, well only what I could make out with the distractions of my friends tonight.” I inserted a small chuckle. “From what I could make out it was a ballad, a love song?”
“Well, it touches on love. But, I want you work that out next time you listen. It’s no good trying to explain. Plus I have hundreds of times to journalists.”
“Oh god yeah, sorry I‘m not hear to do that. And I will I plan to have a damn good listen soon as I get a chance.”
“I wouldn’t be sat here talking if you were. I would avoid you like the plague.” He cracked a laugh and I joined in.
“I bet you get fed up with interviews?”
“Not my favourite thing no,” He cheekily formed a grin then sipped the second beer he had bough, and I did the same with the one he bought for me.
“I could tell.”
“They just ask the same questions, and question me and Depeche mode. I know they need to know certain things, but why should I have to justify on why I dress, act even write the way I do? Nitpick?”
“I understand, but I guess we need to find out the foundations. But no you have given me good tips there.”
“Helpful with the next?” He grinned widely and raised one eyebrow. He had the biggest brightest smile I had ever seen.
“Well I’m just training not actually interviewing at the moment.”
“Oh, well I’m glad I could assist in maybe working upwards.”
“I hope so.”
“Well I certainly would not be so unwilling for one by you one day.”
“Thank you Martin, that made me feel more confident.”
He winked at me and I felt my heart melt.
The time came when we had to part. It saddened me knowing it was the last time I would see him again, and held him to the fact one day I will get to interview him.
But before we departed he asked me if we could meet up again, perhaps a drink or something. Of course I jumped at chance and was thrilled to bits.
He left with just his charming sweet smile. No kiss on the cheek, or embrace just a smile that left me feeling warm and fuzzy inside.
I seemed to have sobered up by this strange overwhelming fondness of him, in his presents, so told the girls we will get a cab home. Both surprized as I told them I was chatting to Martin Gore for the last hour.
I actually lied and said I was meeting him for a small interview, perhaps to move me up a step of my career.
In fact we planned to meet up in a pub not far from here, in Candem. I lived in Kentish Town so it was not a problem and travel was easy.
When I returned to my flat I was excited by so tired. I decided to rewind the tape and listen again.
As I readied for bed I let ‘Black celebration’ hum softly through the small room. I was pretty impressed so far. I carried the tape player to the bedroom where I continued to listen as I undressed and tucked myself into bed. Sadly by the time ‘A question of lust’ came on I had fallen asleep, with the thought of Martin who I was going to meet on Tuesday.
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A world full of nothing