Time, She Will Be Your Living End (David Bowie Fanfiction)

An Occasional Dream

I found myself lying on the cold wood flooring of my flat. My vision blurry, and my head spinning with a terrible pain. I must have drunk so much last night. For a moment I thought my night with David Bowie was all just a dream, but that idea was quickly shattered when I saw the space oddity himself walking into the room with an apple in his lean hand.

"Morning..." He was leaning against the doorframe with peeling white paint, and he took a generous bite out of the pink lady. A groan escaped my lips and my hands rubbed my forehead. His face was almost visible, my eyesight was just about coming back.

"Oh dear, let me get you a glass of water, love."

He left the room then returned with a small glass. "Do you have any paracetamol or anything?"

Unfortunately I didn't quite know the ins and outs of my flat yet as I hadn't explored through the cupboards. Although I didn't answer his question, he yet again left and with that I could hear him rummaging through cupboards.

With as much strength and might as I could force, I sat up from my spot and saw the glory of morning light. The sky was a dull light grey, and there were few raindrops on the glass pane of the window. Corks and glass bottles were sprawled across the paths and roads, and last night's merrymakers were passed out in the street. Some stumbled out of their host's houses to make their way back home, and a couple were still kissing each other in a doorway.

David handed me two tablets that I washed down with a gentle gulp of water. When I had regained  most of my sight I was met with a most terrible mess; empty bottles of cheap alcohol thrown across the floor, a stain from red wine in a strange multicoloured carpet, and an ashtray with numerous cigarette butts, one still with smoke unfurling.

"Are you okay, Annie?" David looked down at me with concern written all over his face.

I sat in a foetal position, knees to my chest, in silence. Only one thing was on my mind, as it was every year at this sort of time.

"It's my birthday today."
I said with barely a smile on my face. Last year I spent my birthday on my own, but now I was with David Bowie!? I knew he wouldn't stick around for long though.

"Good god, happy Birthday!"  He ran over with a big smile on his face and came down to my level on his knees. What he did next was unexpected: He planted the softest kiss on my left check. My face lit up with flowery radiance and my cheeks rouged with embarrassment but also delight. "Thank you, David." A small laugh followed.

"What's the number this year?" He quickly shook his head. "No, sorry. Should never ask a lady's age."

"It's okay. I'm nineteen today." It was the first time in what felt like a long time that someone was with me on that special birthday morning. David then started to pat all over his torso, up and down, almost as if he was worried he had lost something. "I'm sorry to say that I don't have anything for you, but of course I didn't know of this very special occasion."

I smiled, to let him know of my appreciation: it's the thought that counts. It was rather sweet if anything.

"Do you mind?" He held in his hand a tin, which I assumed to be a cigarette tin. "Of course, go ahead." He opened the tin, which only had two left and offered me one, which I accepted, after placing the first between his lips. At the end, he held a bulky, silver lighter and lit it, then did the same for me.

"Actually, I do have something for you. It's not much but, something."

In my hands he placed his lighter. I turned the silver block around and on the front, engraved into it was 'D.R.J', his initials: David Robert Jones. Although it was just a lighter, it felt special and I decided I would keep it as a way to remind me of him if I ever find my way back to 2019.