A sharp tug, a slap, the bright red against the pale skin. Scuffling, grunting, a helping hand pulling him up. Stumbling and a fistful of clothing to keep him grounded. She looked miserable - he thought it was lovely. Oh, he'd love to feel her pain; it couldn't be worse than his.

Sad baby blues watched her leave - she'd never be his. She wasn't his, he wasn't hers. It was fine; Dave was there, until he wasn't. He'd bear it, though. Shit happens, his boyfriend leaves and this chick arrives to sweep him off his feet. The catch was she was in a relationship. 'I'm free on weekends, babe,' the nasally laugh rang in his ears, leave him wishing he could have her forever and ever.

He remembers a story she told him - way back when they were just two strung out adults caught in the balance of fun of responsiblity. She was in a circus? No, that wasn't it. A stripper? Possibly, it was Courtney Love. It didn't seem right, it seemed like a nightmare.

It was sudden, they were getting married and she had a baby. They were on the news and he despised it, Courtney basked in it. He was burdened with it, though. 'It's the price you pay,' The same laugh, this time he wanted out. He wanted to rip everything from their shared apartment's walls; fuck this, fuck his fame, fuck their marriage.