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| "Star" // "Holy Holy" |
The guys couldn't believe how they were laughed off-stage their first night. And the next night. And the next. They wanted to just call the whole thing off as a bad trip. Just because James had been the Chosen One didn't mean that they were. But the ringleader of their small troupe never seemed to waiver from his mission. If anything, he seemed to become more determined and more encouraged as the mocking continued. Or at least, from what they could tell.
And so it went on for the next seemingly unending year. Although James had never faltered to appear each night and at rehearsal, he had begun disappearing off on his own every night, muttering under his breath about Infinities and Destinies - whatever those words meant. Yet without fail, whenever he came back the next morning he would have stacks and stacks of finished music, ready to rehearse and perform at their next gig that he would somehow miraculously book for them.
But he never talked with them anymore, never went out for a drink. Something seemed different about James. He was colder and more aloof than before. He had always been a bit of a lone wanderer, but now he had the heart to go with it. Even Myrna-Jean rarely saw him outside of their nightly trysts. The only thing he seemed to care about was StarDust, and there was an unspoken understanding that he was the infallible leader who demanded unquestioning devotion to his Cause. His eyes carried a crazed gleamed every time they were mocked off stage, and he never mentioned where he went or how he kept them booked every night without fail.
Despite James' belief that people would understand and follow him unconditionally, it was clear after a few weeks that the crowds merely came to ridicule his act. They needed some levity after the chaos that was humanity, as the months rolled by, and the world kept getting worse. They only had just over two years left, and the violence that had been barely held at bay at the beginning of the end was starting to spill through the cracks of society. News of riots, looting, and food shortages was becoming more and more frequent, and drug overdoses and suicide rates were on the rise. No one wanted to stay to watch the world burn.
In short, the world was set on fire, and the laughter was embedded in James' broken mind. It seemed like a waste to keep going with StarDust. Whatever magic James' music held for them long ago had faded into memory. Now it was simply a matter of survival, and Tony, Rudi, Bevan, and Sonny weren't sure if they wanted to be a part of James' insane fantasy. There were other, better ways to spend their last moments alive.
"Alright lads," Tony, the defacto leader while James was "incapacitated", announced, "So we're agreed. None of us want to perform in James' crazy shows every night."
Sonny nodded, "He's gone mad. He thinks that if we keep performing then at some point people will just follow us. But no one's ever 'converted' - hell - no one's even a fan! It's pointless. I'd much rather abandon this insane nightmare now while there's still some time left."
"Agreed," said Bevan, "I thought this would be the way to change the nation. But it's not. Whatever's possessed James can have him. I want to go really make my mark on the world before it's too late. Not just get laughed off stage."
Rudi smugly looked around at the others. The others knew he had never truly approved of James' plans, and now he was vindicated, "So it's settled then. The only question is, who's gonna tell James?"
Immediately, everyone uncomfortably looked away. The new James was unpredictable. The new James only cared about rock 'n' roll (and perhaps fucking, as Myrna-Jean still saw him when no one else did). No one wanted to tell him that StarDust was effectively dead.
Just as they were shifting awkwardly in their seats, James walked through the door. For someone gone mad, he still had an impeccable sense of timing. He was looking down at his notebook, obviously containing the latest drafts of whatever songs he was going to demand they perform next. But when he entered the room, he instantly looked up to see all four sets of eyes looking at him.
"Well?" he asked irritably.
"Mate, the boys and I were thinking," Tony started, "and, well, I don't know what to say other than -"
"We're done," Sonny cut him off, always blunt and to the point.
"Done? But we haven't started rehearsing yet," James said distractedly, looking at Sonny as if he was the one that had gone mad.
"No James. With this. With StarDust. With this insane fantasy you're insisting that we participate in. Nothing's changing. Nothing's been changed. It's over, mate," Rudi said.
The tension in the air was palpable. The four of them held their breath, waiting to see what James would do, half expecting a violent rage.
But instead the pale, gaunt-faced James merely blinked and left. No shouting, tantrums, flights of passion, violence - nothing. It was as if he knew that this day would come, but it was only a matter of time. And now it was upon him.
When he left, however, his absence was like a void they couldn't dismiss. A gaping, obvious hole in their midst that drew attention to itself simply because of its absence.
It was years later, when Tony went back home to fight in the Belfast Riots while Rudi stayed at home to starve, and Bevan was still trying to change the nation along with Sonny, that they realised their terrible mistake at abandoning James. Although they tried to turn the world, all of them failed to do anything other than whittle away their final hours at a fruitless goal. The world already had enough change. Now it was simply the inevitable demise.
--
'Their break-up was inevitable. Starman had told him that', James remembered. He had just hoped that it wouldn't be for another few weeks. He was close. He could feel it.
But it was no matter either way. For although he had yet to attract a single follower, James wasn't worried. He knew that he was right, that he possessed the salvation for mankind, and for the unbelievers he knew they would receive their just punishment later for their narrow minds. He didn't even bother with trying to convince them of the Truth.
At least he still had Myrna-Jean. She helped pay the rent and was always down for a good time, but lately she had also seemed rather distant - just like the lads. Although it was a It was no matter though. The disbanding of StarDust could be the opportunity he needed to remake his Image.
'I could make a transformation - I could play the wild mutation as a rock 'n' roll star,' James mused.
He decided to take the original moniker "Lady Stardust" in stride, and start embracing his androgynous persona. It had already attracted the crowds, why not use their mockery and turn it into a full out spectacle the likes of which they had never seen? It would certainly draw more people to listen to his message.
It was an enticing thought to play the part that he already embraced. But this time, with full abandon. He was so wiped out with things as they were - and he certainly needed the money. His list of deeds involving underhanded bribery, seduction, and blackmail was getting longer by the day as he exchanged favours and promises for the premises to perform, much needed costumes, musical instruments, and everything else needed to put on the nightly show. That was, when he wasn't slipping off to commune with Starman to learn more about Salvation.
It was only noon, but all of the action of the day, the inner turmoil, the sheer amount of plans that needed to be set into motion - the entire mess meant that James felt justified in going to his local. He still had a gig booked for the night - how could he possibly show up without a band? And he would be damned if he would give up the space that he had just seduced his way into securing the location. However, he needed something to take the edge off.
But as he made his way to Aylesbury's, he found that it was closed for the day. Disheartened, James meandered back towards Beckenham when he passed by a small, dingy, unimpressive hole-in-the-wall joint. Despite living all his life in the same sleepy town, he had never seen this place before. He wouldn't even have noticed it or stopped except that it advertised that it was open. The sign above the establishment simply read K. WEST.
Shrugging, James opened the door only to stop dead in his track. That Music!
Slowly, it's good and holy; Helping one another, just a righteous brother; Lifetime, give me back my lifetime; I don't want to be an angel, just a little bit evil; Feel the devil in me
His soul was moved. His spirit uplifted. That sound! It was Divine. It was as if his message of salvation had finally found its True Messengers - it was simply inspired.
Eagerly, James sought out where the music was coming from. Up on stage he saw three young lads. They seemed to personify the essence of sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll. The drummer had a scrappy look about him, with light brown hair in a mod haircut that looked severely overgrown. The bass player, meanwhile, looked long in the face which matched his long black hair and long grey sideburns. But it was the lead guitarist that had James' attention riveted. Shaggy blonde hair, dark eyes, strong masculine features, and the best guitar playing he had ever heard. James was hooked. Fascinated. He knew he had to meet him.
The set was over quickly, and James immediately bee-lined straight for the blonde man who had just hopped off the stage.
"James," he said confidently, holding out his hand.
The blonde merely looked indifferently at him, "Don't look like a James. More like a wanker."
James grinned. The sharp tongue-in-cheek was exactly the type of rock 'n' roller that he wanted.
"Might be both," he laughed, "What's your name then?"
"Ronno," he gestured over to the other guys still on the stage packing up their gear, nodding towards the bass player "That's Weird. And Gilly's the twat who doesn't know how to pack up his kit right."
He glared half-heartedly at the drummer who did indeed look like he was struggling to pack up his gear.
James chuckled, "With names like that it sounds like I need a new one."
"Oh yeah? And why would you need a new name?"
"Because I'm going to be your new front man. Call me...Stardust. Ziggy Stardust."
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