Daniel said that his boys need new impressions and sent them to Denmark to make a new record. Flood became their producer now. When they've met, Dave shook his hand and explained Flood that he was really impressed by his work with Tears for Fears; Martin shook producer's hand too and nodded. Flood and Alan found a common theme pretty easily and it was analogue synthesizers. So they all were rather satisfied with each other.
Flood was funny four-eyes and workaholic and he definitely had a sense of a new hit. He checked all Martin's demos and said:
- Personal Jesus. This will be the first hit. This will be Depeche Mode they didn't know.
- How does it differ from the others? - Martin wondered.
Flood honestly tried to explain, but Martin didn't comprehend it anyway. But he happily escaped from "The screwdriver's work" because now he was confident that Flood and Alan understood each other far better, and their collaboration would be more then useful. Alan was unpleased but preferred to hide his feelings.
They were abusing World in My Eyes for a very long time now. But it didn't work out right. They were going out at nights. But Flood kept on searching agonizingly even in nightclubs. Fletch and Martin quietly ran out of this intellectual company to a disco. Alan was listening to guy's ideas with interest; Dave was cursing to himself, but nodding gloomily. Occasionally he was having a chance to have some fun, especially when his attention was catching by a half-naked Fetch's dancing around the pole. Red guy was drunk and he was rocking his hips and throwing his legs showy up in the air rather enthusiastically. Wenches were dancing around and rubbing themselves against him. Fletch licked his finger and rubbed his nipple, girls were shouting now.
- I thought, he is the most normal and decent among you, lads; - it was their Music for the Masses producer Dave Bascombe, who said that when he seen Fetch freaking people out in Paris, - he seemed so good boy, respectable and intellectual, in his glasses… I thought he's spending weekends in a library, reading science literature. But it appears he's complete motherfucker.
- Martin Gore is wearing glasses too; - Alan squirmed like he had a toothache.
- Ouch, - Dave Bascombe said, - …I forgot.
So Flood told:
- Ok, if no one likes it, let's just throw everything away and set back to square one. Give Alan and me three days and fuck off.
Dave thought that was rather difficult to find what to do at the farm fifty kilometers from the city, where their studio was situated. Martin met him at the doorstep, looked Dave right in the eye and asked him point-blank:
- Let's go and fuck off then, - He went straight to the point.
Dave choked with a smoke, caught a cough and not contemplating what has been going on from that very moment, and trudged along after Martin to the third floor.
One morning three of them were sitting in the living-room downstairs, being at loose ends. Fletch was dressed up to the nine, he was hoping to do a vanishing trick from here to the restaurant, Dave was wearing socks and shorts, Martin was in jeans and baseball cap, because he'd just hated to comb his hair.
- One day I'll shave it off, - he was saying usually.
From the moment when Alan has been engaged into the work with Flood, the fact that Dave was in a perfect frame of mind permanently, surprised even him. Fletch was reading a newspaper, Dave and Martin were gawking at the TV screen. Martin was switching the channels for a long time. There was nothing to watch at all.
- Damn, it really makes me mad, when I don't switch the remote by myself, - Dave said.
Martin looked awry at him, and started to jump through the channels with double energy. Most of the channels were Danish. They had come over a few squabbles because of European MTV. Martin refused to listen to that shit, instead of Dave's yelling. Dave said that he would let Martin to watch the Sports Channel only over his dead body, he said he doesn't fucking joking at all, and one don't have to watch football if he want to gaze at men hugging and kissing each other in shorts. So he got a hit it in the neck with newspaper from Fletch for that. Soon after heated argument they were left to choose between the Weather Channel and the teenagers' serial about the dog-rescuer Lassie.
- Have you ever thought…, - Dave said suddenly, - What year is it now? Nineteen ninetieth? Mart, it appears that I know you for ten years already.
- Sorry? -Martin replied, hardly tearing himself off the collie's adventures on the TV-screen.
- I said, ten years, - Dave repeated, - who could ever think, that we will be together still after ten years?
- Oh, - Martin said nonchalantly, - Yeah… right…
Dave dragged his hand over Martin's shoulder and sang out loud.
When I'm with you, baby,
I go out of my head,
And I just can't get enough
I just can't get enough
All the things you do to me
And everything you say
And I just can't get enough
I just can't get enough * I Just Can't Get Enough by Vince Clarke [DM]
- Oh, no… don't, - Martin screw up his eyes as though his brain was pierced by a drill. But Dave wasn't in a mood to give up so easily.
- Imagine, if not Vince we would never met!
- Dear God, oh, thank you, Vince! - Fletch said, his face was too serious, - What should I do with my miserable life, if I never met Dave Gahan?
- A-ha, - Martin nodded, - how old were we, eighteen?
- I was seventeen, - Dave replied, - I met Vince when I was seventeen.
- Se-ven-teen? - Martin's voice was so soft and tender it felts weird.
- Yeah, - Dave glanced at him askance and pricked up, placing his arms on the knees, - Why?
- Oh, my…seventeen and you were already whoring at gay-bars… - Martin shook his head.
Fletch laughed out loud. Dave bellowed and pulled Martin's cap over his eyes.
- It wasn't a gay-bar! - He screamed indignantly.
- It was, - Martin said through the cap.
- Hey! How do YOU know? - Dave asked, lifting the peak of the cap up and looking Martin in the eye, Martin endured his gaze.
- Vince told me, - he grinned.
- Ouch, - Dave replied, - well I'd say I tho-o-o-ought that…
Fletch rolled up the newspaper and crossed his legs.
- No, he wasn't there. He didn't go out to the bars. He was sitting at home, reading Tolkien and dreaming about Princesses.
- About Elves! - Martin corrected him with indignation.
- Oh, I am very sorry, Martin, because that's a huge difference, - Andy nodded.
Dave laughed out loud, covering his face with his hands and shaking his head from left to right. Martin slid down the couch, pulled the cap over his eyes and coupled his hands on the chest with indignation.
- Two times a week I walked him to a church, - Andy said.
- WHERE? - Dave asked.
- Two times a week Fletch walked me to a church, - Martin repeated.
- What for? - Dave was surprised, - to catch mice?
Fletch laughed.
- Perhaps, - he said, - and the second reason, we were singing in a choir with Vince.
- Where else did you suppose to go in Basildon at weekends? - Martin asked, defending himself.
- To the gay-bar, - Dave suggested, making all of them laugh out loud.
You're like an angel
And you give me your love
And I just can't seem to get enough, no * I Just Can't Get Enough by Vince Clarke [DM]
Dave sang out again. Suddenly he was hit by a weird idea. He dragged his hand over Martin's shoulder again.
- Listen to me, you, Angel of mine, - he began, examining the wall thoughtfully.
Martin lifted his eyes on Dave with the sheepish grin.
- How should I take it? - Dave wondered.
- Huh? - Martin replied.
- If I'm not deaf yet, I'd say, Vince…insists that you… uhm…gave him.
- Gave? - Martin's grin didn't fade out in a bit, - Who? Me?
- Ah, you didn't even give…
- It was me, - Fletch said.
- It was Fletch, - Martin repeated, - It's a song about Fletch.
Dave shook his head.
- If Fletch is an Angel, I really start to worry how does the Hell look like, - he said.
Dave tore off the reality in his mind and his thoughts traveled back to the past, to the very beginning of their career, before he and Martin engaged each other in this crazy, painful vortex of relationships, which they couldn't escape. The nature of Martins' and Andy's relationship remained a mystery to Dave even now. Oh, no, there were no questions about Fletch and then, he loved girls, and when he gained a free access he started to blow-out. Dave couldn't understand some amusements of Uncle Fletch, but Martin told him about some things, which were rather nauseating at Dave's point of view.
- You know, Mart, - Dave told him once; - indeed there are things in this life that would better be left unknown for me.
Martin had only laughed in return. Sex in its most obscene ways charmed him not a bit less than Elves' Princesses. More than this, the dreams about Elves perfectly co-existed in his mind with the TV-show "Good Sex" by Dr. Ruth. He didn't miss an airing. Dave jeered at him.
- You kind-a believe, you can learn something new, chuck?
- What if I? - Martin replied and kept on watching it like bewitched.
Well, but Fletch was a cool bloke.
Once they've got four chicks at their place to spend some nice time. Alan had recently bought a camera, and was extremely keen of filming. He wanted to immortalize everything for the descendants or something like that, Martin jeered him that he just like director's role in everything.
Uncle Fletch was the star of the Tonight Show. It all started when the tanned Algerian girl made him to stand on his fours, and she was riding him across the room for a long time. Lads have great laughs and they encouraged them and Alan carefully filmed it. Then, Fletch let Algerian lady to whip his loins. Lads weren't so sure about Fletch, but Alan and Dave took tremendous pleasure from Fetch's flogging. At the same time Martin was kissing with a dyed blonde in red lingerie, inducing the others to remember a deed. Soon Fletch was lying on a sofa; his cock was looking pensively at the ceiling while two red chicks were elaborating him from both sides. He was smiling from ear to ear and shouting ecstatically:
- Fuck me! I died and gone to Heaven!
Dave has been occupied by the Algerian now. Soon he laid her on the bed parallel to Martin. Blonde was sucking his cock, Dave turned his girl just for it would be easier for Martin to see how he shagging her. Alan was filming the whole process grinning and at the very moment he grasped Martin's nipple and squeezed it hard with his fingers, so not only Martin jerked from his cares but seemed like Dave too. Dave was fucking the girl tastefully, posing for Alan and Martin, demonstratively moving apart her legs in stockings and continued making his inside-out movements as familiar and old as the Universe. The Algerian groaned lowly and aguishly. Since the blonde continued polish his hard shaft, Martin diligently kept his eyes closed, but he couldn't take it for too long, because cheerful slapping from the wet skin on wet skin made him look what was happening. Dave noticed the movement and grasped Martin's shoulder.
- Ma-a-art, - he purred overdriven - Fuck my chick in her mouth…yeah, c'mon, chuck, do it. Now. Please.
As if Martin could disobey… even if he really wanted to. Martin pushed the blonde off him and left her on Alan's mercy, he kneeled before the tanned victim of Dave Gahan's passion. Her plump lips took him inside skillfully and passionately. He moaned suddenly, loosing his control.
Dave and Alan contentedly snickered.
- C'mon, you, fucking stallions, keep it up! - Alan encouraged Martin and Dave - Keep it up!
Alan directed camera on Martin's dick, slipping in and sliding out of girl's mouth. Martin sighed again trying to keep his striving groan, not exactly successfully, because the tanned girl doing her best with him, so Martin fell forward on his arms breathing hardly and opened his eyes. As he opened his eyes he cursed everything. He saw it. Right before his eyes. He saw girl's spread legs, her pussy on Dave's dick. He saw his moving inside her, his thick, framed with black curls shining cock, covered with girl's lubricant, she got very horny with the whole process. He felt that he's almost lost his conscious because of the excitement. He wanted them, he painfully wanted to touch them with his lips, and he wouldn't tell under the vicious torture, whom he wanted more now - Her or Him. Alan moved camera on Dave's cock, but Dave noticed Martin's attention which he succeeded to attract. He diligently perfected his show.
He got her on his cock several times slowly, taking him out almost in full length, put his knee under her hips, keeping her opened, spreading her legs wider for Martin.
- Huh…man, take her…
Martin poked his tongue in her without any thinking.
- O-o-oh, yeah, oh, fu-u-uck - Dave continued holding her open for Martin, now all his attention was paid to Martin and to what he was doing with her, - Alan, fuck you, asshole, film it, stop hanging.
Obviously, Martin knew what he was doing with the girl, because her legs soon started to tremble in Dave's arms, she began to groan in spite of Martin's cock in her mouth.
Dave used her lubricant in a very natural way - to enter her from her another hole. Martin felt his moving inside her; Dave ground his teeth and couldn't divert his eyes from his touchingly protruding shoulder-blades. He forcedly seized into Martin's hair, he just know that he shouldn't do what his vile and kinky fantasy was allowing him to do, considering the closeness of Martin's mouth. They came all three at the same time with Fetch's and three other beauties applause and loud Wilder's approval.
Next day they shag some pussy together again. Then they had their fun with several girls to them four, and then there was a room full of whores. It all was too good to stop. Once upon a time Fletch went out from the toilet, scratched his bum thoughtfully, and asked:
- Hey, fellas, uhm…does anybody feels like…you know… it bloody painful to pee, huh?
They confusedly bit their lips and looked down. All three of them.
Daniel very perversely fucked sideways twice four of them, almost literally, because one clever whore told journalists about guys who infected them with gonorrhea and it cost Daniel a fortune to pay enough for to both ancient professions. They were sitting at the bar. Miller was drinking his beer, they four confusedly drinking their lemonade, because they had their antibiotics course treatment. Miller demonstratively gave to each guy a pack of condoms and now Daniel was gazing at Gore, who was inflating a balloon from a condom, freaking out waitresses and not giving a shit about Miller's furious gaze.
- Dumb assholes, - hissed Miller heartedly, - you fucking don't know how to put on the condom, huh?
- Condoms are immoral at the point of shagging - Dave said, - It's like to breathe in a respirator; it's absolutely against life philosophy, - he was thoughtfully sipping his coke.
Daniel looked at him unkindly.
- So you WILL breathe in the respirator then, - hardly breathing from the burning rage hissed Miller, - Fucking tripper bunny philosopher! Bloody idiots…
- But, - Dave began.
- I SAID, - Miller hit the table with his fist, - No more scandals. Find yourself a chick and shag her senseless in all her fucking holes, but if you ever will fuck a whore, use individual protection facilities.
- You mean… uhm…we should do it in camouflage cloak, or something? - asked Martin Gore.
Miller's face turned deep red he stood up, leaned over the table his hands clenched into a fists. Fletch hurriedly took Martin by the neck closer to himself.
- Daniel, please, don't…. - he said quickly, - I will strangle him by myself, ok? Hush, Dan ….he won't do that again. You bitch, tell, you won't? - He asked Martin.
Martin grinned as hard as he ever could; it was painful somewhere beside his ears with its tremendous smile.
Even after Personal Jesus they couldn't expect that Violator would be overdid everything. Miller prepared an autograph session, day before album should be available at the stores. Los Angeles didn't see that from The Beetles' days. Kids were standing in line for four blocks long, girls were crying, guys were literally jumping on their limo. Lads, being the reason of this entire riot, looked rather perplexed. So then there were some fights in the line and Police went here to make everything fine. So autograph session was over though it hasn't even begun, and Police insists that they should leave the building now.
When they went back to their hotel, they couldn't believe their eyes; TV news was talking about them. They talked about West Hollywood's riot caused by the Depeche Mode. Miller said - Fuck-fucking-tastic. He couldn't believe all that. He said you all fuck off me for three days and then he locked himself in his room and got blindly boiled deadly drunk.
- I remember how we met with Joanne, - said Dave, he stood up from the sofa and came closer to the window where lights of night LA were shining brightly.
- Heh-heh-heh, - said Martin.
- Heh-heh-heh, - said Alan and Fletch in the same tone.
- No, I didn't mean it, - but then again he looked at his colleagues' kind faces and understood that it would be better not to continue.
- And I remember, Vince and I were wooing Miller. We rushed into the Mute, my hands were shaking, Vince was trembling like a leaf, fuck Miller Himself came into the studio and heard our record! He was sitting there and rocked his leg for several minutes and I thought he likes us, everything's gonna be just peachy! But just threw us down - I am not interested! He just said and gone.
- Oh, I remember you was violently shaking that time when we warmed up the audience before the Fad Gadget, Daniel produced them at the moment, - Fletch smirked, and took a beer from the bar, - Lads we should drink for that!
- Although when he saw us live he decided to work with us! - Dave grabbed his beer too.
- I-I should say I rather amused by his intuition, - said Martin, - I'd say we played dodgy.
- Yeah, - Alan said, - And I was hooked by your Charisma too. I don't have a clue, even now, how could I be seduced by your music
Fletch hit him jokingly at the back of his head and handed him a beer. Dave embarrassingly touched Martin's shoulder.
I'm waiting for the night to fall
I now that it will save us all
When everything's dark
Keeps us from the stark reality ** (Waiting for the night to fall by Martin L Gore)
They were waiting for the nights like a salvation here in Denmark. The world existed somewhere far aside them. At day they should do their job, they were strangers, but then night fell and it costs it all. And it lasts long. Unbelievably long.
Once at the morning, right before dawn, Dave was smoked meditatively at the balcony. He couldn't sleep, and the thing that Martin was there couldn't help him at all.
- What do you think, they know already? - He asked.
- I don't think about it at all, - honestly replied Martin from the bed.
- You should, - said Dave, - It's about time.
Martin didn't answer.
- Do you understand that all things that we are doing is not actually normal? - Dave asked seriously.
- I fucked you before, though you never been under such impression because of that, - Martin said.
- Very funny. Ha-ha. - said Dave.
- Dave, what got you today?
- The same shit as the last ten years.
Martin blanketed his head.
- I am man, - said Dave.
- A-ye, - Martin answered from under the blanket.
- You are man, - said Dave.
- Oh, thank you, David, - Martin smirked.
- If you were a girl I would never ever looked to one another…
- Heh-heh-heh, - cheerfully said Martin, standing up from the bed.
- The point is - I like women.
Martin thoughtfully scratched his nose.
- I know, you too. I know. But my life is very different then yours now. I am a husband and I am a father. You know I never thought about that, but it couldn't be ignored. I have a son, he is three years old. What should I say to Jack? Jack - you are happy guy - your dad is a bugger, let your peers jeered you to suicide and I loose my carrier just to be some odd freak like Vince? There is a tragic mistake here, in my Destiny. Joanne, Jack and you. I am in the room with the two way door and every way managing me to destroy anther part of me that can't approve the choice of another. It would be much easier for me if you didn't mean that much for me, Mart. Bloody hell, I am normal guy. I am normal guy. I am normal. But you are the part of me already, I am thinking with your thoughts and talking with your words I see the world with your eyes…I can't make this choice, but he repeatedly rising right before my very nose.
Martin coughed.
- I, - he said, - never asked you nothing like that, Dave - Martin tramped into the bathroom, stopping to take a look at the balcony, - And it would be too arrogant for you to honestly believe that I could appreciate the profundity of your sacrifice.
Dave gazed in a horizon, meaning of Martin's words reaching him very slowly.
- W-what? - Finally he asked.
Martin didn't answer.
- I said what it was you've just said? - Dave raised his voice.
- In very simple words I said "Get the fuck out off here". - Martin said in a steel voice.
- You, listen here, - Dave's face blushed, - Have I ever told you that if someone told me to fuck off then I will. And I will never return. Do you understand me?
Martin opened the bathroom door his face was unreadable.
- Precisely.
- So? - Dace asked again, his face was too close now.
- That was exactly what I've said, - Martin smirked, - I told you to fuck off, Dave.
Dave gone and shut the door.
Martin hit the rough plastered wall with his fist, tearing off the skin from his finger bones', leaving the blood stains on a plaster, on his way down to the floor, he didn't feel any physical pain. He squeezed his jaws, not to bawl, not to howl desperately like a beast, driven into the deadly trap.
You wear guilt
Like shackles on your feet
Like a halo in reverse
I can feel
The discomfort in your seat
And in your head it worse
When our worlds
They fall apart
When the walls come tumbling in
Though we may deserve it
It would be worth it *** Halo (by Martin L Gore)
They were rehearsing this song and Dave felt like crying again. He looked at Martin, but he wore such indifferent look it hurt him more. Arrogant shit. You think I will go down on my knees for you? I'd rather die then crawl to you. I'll make you respect me, and if not now - then never. I won't crawl to you, and I won't go down on my knees.
Again and again.
With the beginning of the tour started this torture, as they were cursed or something like that. Another two month, Dave thought, and he would tell everybody about the Cloud of Doom too and he would be resting till the end of his days in a soul asylum's chamber, right next to Alan's chamber. He smashed micstand down onto the stage and it fell dangerously close to Martin, he didn't look at him, not even flinched. Dave spitted in desperation, swearing under his nose and wiping off the tears from his cheeks.
- Hysterical bitch, - Martin hissed him on the break right before they had to go back to the stage. Dave almost smashed Martin's head, shoving him raggedly onto the glassed door, but Fletch prudently hit Dave's head with a chair, releasing Martin.
Martin drank a lot, to almost dead condition every night and he can't realize in the mornings who he is and what is he doing here. Dave tried to drink too, but that was not for him. He could get drunk enough or alcohol led him into the darkest seizures of wicked aggression. His band mates and their workers seriously avoided him. He felt himself a true star and finally he had his own dress-room.
He met nice young woman at the party, her name was Teresa. He liked her because of her inner freedom. He felt the lack of problems and complexes in her, and it was too tempting. She gave him some powder - just for fun, it was cooler to fuck under powder. It was actually a lot more fun to live with it. He became addicted very soon. It works it fucking works, these snowy crystals led him somewhere, out of reality, and everything that he thought was important before has lost its meaning. The meaning was now to feel joy and happiness and he took it all from Teresa. Dave felt himself free the first time in his entire life. He was free, from the pain, from the strings and obligations, from this dark shadow that followed his steps before.
He left Joanne and Jack. He ruined everything he ever could, he left a band, he left London and he finally found enough balls to left…HIM. Dave's head was spinning from his own boldness, and it added an extra wave of pleasure in his mind. He is a star, he got into the highest highs he never even dreamed, and he knew that it will be only pleasure what he will feel from now on, his new life. Dave married Teresa and was happy that he moving to the city of his dream. The City of Angels in the other side of the Atlantic Ocean was ready to devour him too. Plane was purging turbines, and moving to the air stripe at London's Heathrow. There was nothing inside of Dave's mind. No pain, no sorrow, he held Teresa's hand tightly, repeating the words.
Clean
The cleanest I've been
And end to the tears
And the in-between years
And the troubles I've seen
Now that I'm clean,
You know what I mean
I've broken my fall
Put an end to at all
I've change my routine
I don't understand what destiny's planned
I'm starting to grasp
What is in my own hands * Clean by Martin L Gore
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