Why couldn't I be older? Be born in Brixton in 1950 or something... I could've been the girlfriend or even the wife of David Bowie...! Imagine that...

... As expected I got home before Kev and just went to bed, I knew he'd come home drunk and I didn't want to deal with him tonight.

I lay awake in bed, David kissed cheek... He couldn't possibly do that to fan he met... I touched my cheek and smile happily at the thought.

I soon fell asleep, and woke up late the following morning. Kev was at work once again and probably nursing a hangover whilst counting someone's money. I smirk knowing it's his own fault for getting in such a state.

I got up, got dressed and decided to ring home. Dialling the number as fast as light, I waited impatiently for someone to answer the phone.

"Hello, Chester residence!" My father says cheerfully.

"Hello dad, it's just me."

"Oh Ros how lovely to hear from you! How's the course going?" Dad asks.

"Yes it's ok, very hard work. How are you all?"

"We're all wonderful here! Oh - your mother wants to talk to you. Bye dear!" The phone goes quiet for a moment.

"Hi mum." I say down the phone.

"Oh hello sweetheart! How's Brixton keeping you?"

"Everything's fine here."

"And how's Kevin?" She asks hopeful whereas I sigh.

"He's fine. Eleanor went to see her mum a couple of days ago so-" she cuts me off.

"Oh well why don't you come and see us! You haven't been to see us in so long sweetheart! Your brother misses you terribly."

Seconds after mum says that, I hear Henry's voice in the background shouting: "NO I DO NOT!" Which makes me laugh.

"Yeah I will, some time in April. I just thought I'd ring to see how you all were."

"Yes well, we're all fine here. I heard some rumours that David Bowie is in South London, maybe he'll come to Brixton! Didn't you say he used to live there?"

"Yes, I did."

"Well, could you imagine if you met him! You wouldn't be able to shut up about it!" She says being giddy.

"Mm, maybe." I say with a smirk. "And if I did meet him, he could ask me to marry him too! Both as unlikely to happen!" I say jokingly, but deep down hope the second part would be true.

"Well that would never happen!" My mother snaps. "He's married to Angie Bowie remember? They've been together- what- 4 years now? Their son was born in- oh let me think- 1971? C'mon sweetie, I thought were the Bowie expert in the family!"

Angie. And his

The model, the singer... Of course... David's

"Are you ok sweetheart?" Mum asks snapping me out of thought.

"Yes, yes... Sorry, anyway, I better go, lots to do today. Speak to you all soon, send my love to dad, and tell Henry to behave. Goodbye mum."

"Bye sweetie!" And then she hangs up.

How did it ever slip my mind about Angie? About son...? My heart crumbled. Not once had he mentioned them... But then again, I was just a fan...

All afternoon I thought about his wife and child, David made me feel loved, I felt like I had forgotten he was famous when I spent time with him... I had forgotten about the teenage crush, I knew he was the man I needed in my life, I him...

I couldn't love him, he had a wife and child, I kept reminding myself of the fact and it made me feel sick.

I was angry with Bowie, hurt too. Why didn't he stop me from flirting?! I was only young...! Was I still to meet him at 10 tonight? Or should I just stand him up...? I couldn't... He's a celebrity... But he's not royalty...!

I argued with myself for the rest of the day, getting nothing done because of what mum had reminded me. I wish she hadn't...

****

"You look lovely darling," Kevin says wrapping his arms around me as I get ready.

I felt sick at the darling comment again, it was annoying me slightly.

"Thank you," I say ruffling my long blonde hair.

I wore my mini skirt, thick, patterned tights and a jumper with David Bowie on. My denim jacket was ready for me to take as I walked out.

"So what time you home?" Kev continuously asked which began to get on my nerves.

"The answer won't change Kevin. I- don't- know." I say angrily. "Right, I'm off. See you later. Don't wait up." I say walking downstairs and putting my jacket on.

"Come here then," he says with a smirk. I walk over to him just for him to give me a kiss. "I love you." I was shocked, I hadn't heard him say that line in awhile, even though I didn't want to say it back... I did anyway and got out the house.

My watch said 9:54 p.m... I was going to be late for David but if he wanted to see me so badly he'd have to wait. I was still angry with him, I had calmed down slightly, but only slightly.

Considering it was a Friday night, not many people were out, my heels clacked loudly every step I took in the streets. My tights kept me warm, and a Bowie song suddenly jumped in my head causing me to swing my hips and sing quietly to myself.

With a spring in my step, I was at the pub before I knew it, I was only 10 minutes late. I took a deep breath, ruffled my hair again, and quickly put my red lipstick on and opened the squeaking door. I look into the empty room to see Larry already pulling me a pint and David sitting at the bar.

My heart jumped a beat at the sight of him and his crooked smile, I beam a smile back at him.

"Hello little rebel," he stands up puts his hands on my elbows and kisses both my cheeks as a welcome, politely, I kiss his back at the same time.

"Hello David," I say gladly.

"Thanks Larry," I say taking the pint from him and David passes the money over. Larry then goes to lock the door and soon disappears into the back room.

"So," I hop onto my favourite bar stool which was next to Bowie. "What's this about?"

"If I tell you, you promise not to tell?" I nod as he whispers. "I've wrote a new song."

My eyes widen and I smile hugely again. "No way..." I say quietly but extremely excitedly.

"Well, written a song, I need your help to finish the rest. After all, you were the one whose inspired me to write this one." He winks to me and I blush.

"Let's see it then." I say cooly and he pulls out a crumpled piece of paper with a tea stain on from his jacket.

He places it delicately in front of me and then ruffles his hair with his hand almost to break the silence. I take a sip of my beer and look up to David, he winks to me once more.

I pick it up and read the title. "Rebel Rebel." I whisper. "Is this about me?"

"Read it." He commands me with a smirk.

I began reading guitar rifts and imagined how they would go in my head. The lyrics were funky and completely David Bowie. Reading it made me smile.

"Hey babe, your hair's alright, hey babe let's go out tonight...?" I question and he blushes.

"I wondered if after this you'd like to hit the town?" I gasp shocked that the star is asking me on a ...!

"But- People will see you, and they might think-"

"Think what?" He asks puzzled.

"Doesn't matter." And I continue reading.

"Rebel rebel," I sing slowly trying to get the right notes as I read them. "you've torn your dress." I smile and continue to sing.

"Rebel rebel, your face is a mess. Rebel rebel, how could they know?" He needed one more line to finish the chorus.

I was completely flattered, these were words, things I had said to him that night. My dress, he noticed it, he noticed my odd make up...

"Now I need your help, rebel." He winks and takes out a pen.

I sing the chorus again, and again. "David, when you first saw me, what word came to mind?"

"Wonderful." He says quickly.

I roll my eyes, "Well that doesn't fit in with the song now does it. I thought I looked like a tramp that night actually."

"Perfect!" David says and starts scribbling. "I'm not agreeing with you, but it works."

He clears his throat. "Hot tramp," he starts to sing and my heart melts hearing his voice as clear as a bell. "I love you so." He stops singing and my mouth hangs open slightly.

"David...?" I croak.

He leans down to me and I lean up, his hand curls round my waist and pulls me closer to him. My hands, cupping his beautiful cheek bones and my red lips collide with his smooth pinkish ones.

A bizarre taste ran through my body but it was good, I felt alive, like when you first light a fire. My heart felt like it was going to pop right out of my chest...! I was David Bowie...!

I break the kiss suddenly, his face sad, mine full of shock. "What about Angie...?" I mutter hurt.

He gulps, struggling to find the words. "You could say we're not exactly getting on at the moment."

"Obviously not if you go round kissing other girls..." I mutter angrily.

"You're the only girl I've kissed since I've been married. Angie and I never see each other, she's always travelling, as am I." He tries to make the situation better.

"So you're bored of your marriage? David, you have a son!" I cry now. "You've made me feel so... And I feel like you've led me on..."

"No I would never do that to you Ros! Ros, listen to me, I'm sorry! I never wanted to hurt you, you've been so helpful lately. Let's just forget it ever happened." He says pleading.

"Why me? Why make me fall in love with ? It's not just your music I love now, it's . of you." I mutter and drop down from the stool.

He says nothing and we just look at each other for a long time. "I should go." I say awkwardly.

"No Ros," he takes my hand in his, his face pleading, his eyes begging me not to leave yet. A sensation, a spark, a tingle was lingering between our two hands...

I pull my hand from his and reach for the squeaking door.

"Goodbye David,"

"Ros, don't!" He shouts as I close the door behind me.

I began walking quickly so he doesn't catch me up. What just happened?

Why was he married to Angie? I felt used by the rockstar. She had no idea about the kiss, she didn't know who I was. If she saw me she'd just laugh... She was a model, I was a music student...

The American model was so lucky, she had David as her husband, and had a child with him, why didn't she spend every minute with him? Why didn't she give up her career to be with him? I would've done!

I really loved the man, and it was so hard to love him while being stuck in a house with a banker who annoyed me.

As I walked home, I knew then I should never contact Bowie again. He'd be leaving Brixton soon anyway, he'd soon forget about me. All he wanted me for was to write that song...

That song. That song about