Facade

shopping, Nicky walked out of there in skinny jeans, a fitted midnight blue silk shirt, a tight leather jacket and a beanie, looking decidedly more ordinary than when he’d walked in. The movie-star sunglasses were still his own and the only thing Jonas would compromise on.

    82
    Zahra
    Owens
    Jonas had seen the look of recognition and astonishment on his friend’s face when Nicky walked in wearing his usual extravagant attire. Jonas had given her a reassuring look, which had stopped her reacting to the fact she had a world renowned fashion designer in her small boutique, but she was nervous nevertheless. She did manage to make Nicky look good while shedding his peacock feathers and for that Jonas was grateful, despite the fact that Nicky felt more than a little underdressed.

    JOHNNY’S place was an ordinary looking Edwardian house with a few steps up to the front door. The man who opened the door looked like the love child of Guns and Roses’ Slash and Cockney Rebel’s Steve Harley. His bare chest and too-tight leather pants were enveloped by a large shag coat that had seen better days. He was wearing beads in clashing colors around his neck and had several large rings on his fingers and a cigar between them.
    No words were exchanged. The man simply pointed up toward the first floor and walked off, leaving them to close the door behind them. As soon as he was out of earshot, Nicky pulled Jonas closer.
    “You wanted me to dress normally? That guy is worse than me! At least I have style. He’s like a walking fashion history lesson!” Jonas stopped his ranting with a kiss. “You’re not here to be you, Nicky. You’re just a guy who likes sex and doesn’t object to being paid to have fun.”
    Nicky was silent now, looking Jonas in the eye.
    “In fact it’s probably a good idea to think of a name. Calling you Nicky sort of stands out.”
    “Jamie,” Nicky answered. “James. It’s my middle name.” Jonas kissed him quickly and then took his hand to lead him up the wide but cluttered staircase. The sweet scent that had hit them as they entered the house only became stronger the higher they climbed, but it didn’t seem to bother Nicky, who was darting around looking at things left and right. Jonas held onto his hand, fearing he Façade
    83
    might wander into another room and he’d lose him. He just wished that the delay in their arrival meant Johnny would be blind drunk or passed out on the floor of his bedroom like he had found him more than once. Then again, there was always the chance that Johnny lived so far away from reality that he would never have heard of a young British upstart making it all the way to the top of the fashion world. In any case, if Johnny had ever seen a Bryant runway show, there was no denying that this young man was the genuine article and no nickname would hide that.
    Jonas knew where to go. Johnny always seemed to be in his bedroom at this time of the night. He didn’t bother knocking, simply opened the door a little hesitantly before walking in, Nicky close behind him. To his surprise, Johnny was sitting in a large wing chair strumming his guitar. At first hearing, the song he was playing didn’t make much sense, but the two young women sitting at his feet were staring up at him in awe anyway.
    Jonas started to walk closer, but was held back by Nicky.
    “Holy Fuck—I didn’t know you meant that Johnny!” he whispered to Jonas. “I thought he was dead!”
    Jonas raised an eyebrow and looked at the young man. “He soon will be. He’s been trying to kill himself for years. Slowly.”
    “Jonah baby—great to see you, man.” Johnny had put his guitar aside and was gesturing them to come closer. “And hell, you brought a friend. Yeah, you said you would, right? Great, man, just great. I get a show tonight, woo hoo!” His eyes didn’t look all too clear and judging from his overly dramatic gestures, he was under the influence of something… or several somethings mixed together.
    “Get it on, boys, come make an old geezer happy. You know what Johnny boy wants.” He seemed to find himself incredibly funny, cackling with laughter as he slid down the chair until he was nearly horizontal.
    “Ehm….” Jonas hesitated, looking at the two young women and then back at Johnny.
    Johnny raised himself a little and motioned them to come closer. He kissed both of them on the cheek. “He gives a good show, 84
    Zahra
    Owens
    our Jonah,” he told them conspiratorially,