Nick Swanson

CHAPTER ONE.

Only Nick Swanson could know how much stepping on that cigarette butt meant, The thick deathly smoke would not grace him again for the next twenty-two hours, yet it would taunt him the whole way. Stepping through the automatic doors of the Sydney international terminal, Nick felt the cold dry bite of air-conditioning and the hundreds of Florissant lights burned as his eyes made the sudden jolt from the darkness outside. Turning for one last look at the soothing australian night, Nick was startled to find himself deprived of it, seeing only his own distorted reflection in the doors closing behind him.
Although only twenty-four, the image spat back at him from the glass showed a man of around mid-thirties, his shoulder length black hair thin from years of chemical dyes, the 1976 tour led zeppelin t-shirt stuck to his skin, clammy with sweat and he was sure the black denim of his jeans had an extra tear he hadn't seen before.
A sudden flickering of one of the many lights above him brought him back to the present. After releasing where he was, Nick stumbled cautiosly over to the check- in counter thirteen for flight 101 to nyc. The small golden haired girl behind the desk gave a quick good bye to the last customer and turned her attention to Nick. He handed over his passport and then gave his reference no. for his e-ticket to new york. As if by instict the girl gave a quick robotic glance at his passport, then, with an sudden disagreement with her mind took another look.
“Your Nick...Nick Swanson?” the girl stuttered out of sheer stupidity.
Nick took his time to react, fucking fans, he thought fighting with the vomit rising in his throat due to his previous night of brain cell diminishing drinking.
He swallowed hard and opened his mouth. “Thats me...” The air conditioning and lights along with the girl made his mind loose track of where his head was and he almost toppled over.
“Oh my god, I cant belie...”
“Can i just have my boarding pass?” Nick rudely interrupted feeling the urge to run to the toilet growing nearer.
A look of mixed up awe and confusion came over the girls face as she struggled to comprehend that her idol was not the incredible “Mr. perfect” she always believed.
“Now” nick added, his vision blurring for a moment. When his eyes refocussed on the little uniformed arm holding a blue and red card, nick snatched it with his long gaunt fingers and turned towards the women's bathroom. For good reason too. He had been in this particular airport many a time and Nick knew his chances of making it to the mens in the distance were slim.
Just as his walk turned into a run, the girl who had just helped him said the word that would change his life infinately for the worse.

* * *

Nearly every person at Shibuya crossing noticed the woman in the full length jet black gucci fur coat. Not because of her apparel but due to her six-feet four-inch height. She walked with an eerie grace and didn't seem to care about the hundreds of japanese business men, eyes fixed on what glimpses they could see as her coat flapped open with each stride. This is the last time in Japan.... she kept repeating in her head. Although she appeared to be calm, the many other times she had visited Tokyo had torn her away from herself to an extent she never thought possible. The constant dealings with the yakusa, a group of over confident men who controlled every aspect of organized crime there was in Japan, had shown her the real meaning of male domination, on one occasion selling her to a very important man who took things a little too far and ended up in hospital with three broken ribs and no penis. This incident made the men in charge think twice about what this woman could be used for.
As she reached the other side of the large intersection she felt the tingle of excitement as the newly acquired cell phone vibrated in her louis vitton clutch. Reaching in with a slender gloved hand she retrieved the phone, unlocked it and checked her mail box.

ONE NEW MESSAGE
SENDER: UNKNOWN

Sender unknown my ass... she thought, scrolling down to reveal the message already suspecting its contents. There was only one word.

NOW

Just as she was instructed, she quickly released her handbag from under her arm letting it fall to the pavement, spilling lipsticks and expensive make-up all around the feet of passers by. Within seconds the woman saw the familiar pair of ferragamo shoes she had come in contact with so many times before. The Japanese man in the shoes bent over and started to help pick up her deliberate mess. As he handed the woman the last item from the spill, he added a small card from his pocket and gave her a familiar smile.
“Get some new shoes” The woman smiled back. The man bowed deeply and went on his way.
She gracefully stood and sliped the card in her bag with her other bellonings then began the long walk through Shibuya toward her destination.

CHAPTER TWO

“.....” As his stage name hit his ears, the small shock was enough to make Nick forget just how important getting to the womens bathroom was, sending him realing to the floor with the small amout of food in his stomach spilling around him on the recently cleaned terminal carpets. Nick just lay there, drifting in and out of consiosness, people darting around him with urgency and fear. the thoughts he could make out were not so much of embarassment but of anger and dissapointment. my fucking manager’s going to be all over me when this hits the press. His manager was the least of his worries.
Across the terminal a man pulled out a cell phone, quietly dialed a number and waited. The man’s voice on the other end was slow and deliberate. “Yes... hello”
“He’s here, I cant believe he tried...”
“I see... thankyou.” then he was gone.


The last breath she took before entering the building was deep. It always was. From here she would be someone else,