Damn, He Can't Compare

14. first concert

June 20th, 1986. Hotel in Paris. 4:16 P.M.

Tony and I made our way up to the hotel rooms. I found where Curt was, and opened the door to him sitting on the bed, "Wow. Very nice room." I say, marvelling at the amazing view we had of the Eiffel tower. 

I closed the door behind myself, and realised we had this time to ourselves for once. I have been so caught up in all this drama and tour business, I totally forgot that Curt and I hadn't had sex in over three weeks, which was so unlike us. Not that we go at it every second of the day, more like two times a week at most.

I honestly missed his touch like crazy, he's unlike any other man I've been with. I love him so damn much, knowing fully well he deserves better than me.

I released the ribbon from my hair, ruffling it down in front of the bed. I licked my lips, very seductively as I began crawling over his body. He knew what I was trying to do and was very into it, he laid back and let me take control.

His deep brown eyes only pulled me in more, I sat on top of him, our hips grazing against one another's as I kept him trapped beneath me. His tongue never left my mouth, I pulled back and sighed in frustration at the door being knocked on.

Martin called out to everyone, "Come on guys! We have a show in less than two hours, I'll see you all downstairs in 10 minutes!"

Curt jumps up exhilarated at the idea of the bands very first show. I was so happy for them, it's so crazy that they finally got the recognition they deserved, "We'll have to rain check that." He winked, fixing his shirt collar in the mirror.

After quickly getting ready, we went downstairs to the lobby to see the other boys and Kate waiting alongside Martin. "Okay let's get going." He ordered, ushering us outside to the car again. I sat behind Roland this time and seemed to notice a new bruise on his neck that wasn't there before.

I wondered how he could have done it with Kate in less than ten minutes and still beaten us downstairs... He seemed to notice my yearning and turned to me, "Stop." he mouthed. I fall back into the seat and stuck my tongue out at him when he turned back around.

June 20th, 1986. Concert in Paris. 8:16 P.M.

I jump around at the side of the stage as the boys finish up their set, the crowd is going wild, they seem to really dig Tears for Fears. Manny keeps a continuous beat with the drums, Ian rocks back and forth behind the keyboard, while Roland and Curt move to the beat with their bass and guitar. 

"In my head, my mind's eye." Roland sings out, "La la la la la." Keeps being repeated in the background, "One little boy, wandering by." he finished off with a futuristic tone, "Funny how...time...flies..." the music continued until finally trailing off into nothingness.

The crowd screamed loudly, as the boys finished the last song, all breathing heavily before running backstage. They handed their mics and instruments to the workers and trailed down the hall to the dressing room. Curt gives me sweaty kiss on the cheek, I wipe his forehead from sweat, "You were amazing!" I yelled, trying to be heard over the crowds screams as Spandau Ballet went on.

Ian quickly collapsed onto the couch, while Manny dumped a bottle of water over his head in attempt to cool down. "Now that's what I'm talking about." Roland sang happily, a huge smile on his face. 

He's happier than I've seen him in a while. "You guys are like serious professionals." I say, lifting my knees up on the couch. Suddenly the harsh snores of Ian can be heard.I look up to see him already asleep, his head is tilted back against the head of the couch with a little drool pouring off of his mouth. "Same old Ian." Manny clucked, dripping the water from his hair into a bucket.

A/N: Sorry about uploading a whole heap! I just really like to get stuff put up :)