Time... His Script is You and Me (A David Bowie Fanfic)

The Prettiest Star

Honestly, I had no idea how he could, or whether he would, get back. The longest I had ever stayed in the seventies was a few hours, but he had stayed here, by now, far more than that.

Surely there had to be a connection? There had to be some reason why we kept travelling to and fro... but for now, looking at his beautiful face, and mottled red hair, I guess it didn't matter.

Just for a moment, I could look at my floor, and see a rock god sleeping. He looked contented, and I missed that. I hadn't been contented in a long time. Not since I was listening to David singing The Man Who Sold The World a year ago, in 1970.

As if he was awoken by his name floating through my mind, David's eyes fluttered open. I quickly tried to get back to a normal position on the bed, hoping not to make it obvious that I was just staring at him.

He sat up, and his red hair stood up on one side in a half-spiky mess. He caught me looking, and smoothed it down with a little smile, "It does that." He said.

With a glance at the clock by my bed, I noticed I should have been at school an hour ago... but did it really matter? When David Bowie himself had travelled to 2017 last night?

Oh well. My mum must have been at work by now and my brother at school. That meant we had the rest of the day to ourselves. And I was not going to let that be wasted at school.

In fact, I had a brilliant idea.

100% safe?

Not really.

But brilliant?

Yes.

I said, "David, you know how last night you said you wanted to see London, in the present? I don't really know how this could turn out, but surely this could be fun? Just... don't remember too much." I let out a small chuckle, though inside wasn't sure if this would mess up some inter-dimensional timeline.

Someone may recognise him, and any matter of things at all could go wrong. But he had a curious glint in his eye I wanted to satisfy, and, to be honest, I desperately wanted to show David Bowie around my London - a dream in and of itself.

His smile widened into its beautiful crooked grin, and I could tell, though he was still bewildered at his situation, he couldn't wait to see what 2017 held. "Yes! I'd love to. Just - keep those alien box lights away for now."

How cute he was! "David, there may be more than modern phones outside these four walls," I replied.

A flash of worry passed over his face, but he straightened it out with a deep, exhilarated breath. I could tell he was itching to go, especially when he stood straight up and started through my bedroom door into the hallway, trying to remember how to exit the house.

"Slow down, partner. I don't know if you could go out into 2017 like that," I said, surveying his knitted body jumpsuit, white kimono, and platform heels. I mean, he looked like a glorious alien rock god (which he was), but that would only draw attention to the fact that he was not supposed to be here.

We went to my mum's closet, where she kept all my dad's old stuff. There was a dust-covered suit and tie, and a pair of leather shoes. But it was evident at first glance the clothes were not going to fit. It wasn't that my dad used to be a large man, but purely that David was definitely not even a medium-sized man. So we took the shoes (the only fitting element) and went to my 12-year-old brother's room.

In his wardrobe, I found a semi-decent pair of trousers and a t-shirt (one of the few non-profanity covered ones), which David promptly put on. It could safely be said that he did not terribly like the normal, grubby style of a preteen, but at least David looked semi-normal.