"Fuck, I'm never going to get that choreography down!" Robbie complained in the dressing room, to Mark. "It's fucking pointless, I'm going to look like an idiot".
"Well, Gary's having trouble too, so you're both look like idiots", Mark reasoned while not really paying that much attention – he'd received a card from a fan at the door, and was busy smiling while he read the note of adoration. They didn't really receive much in the way of fan mail, it was still early days but of what there was, Mark always had the lion's share.
"Yeah, except he's singing!" Robbie continued, "So it don't matter to him, does it? – why is it always me that sticks out like a sore thumb and gets the rubbish end of the deal?!"
"That's not true Rob."
"Yes, it bloody is! Nigel hates me, nothing I do is right, and to be honest there's nothing I really do, except sing back up".
"Oh, really?! Well that's funny, because I overheard Gary and Nigel discussing a cover song, and you taking lead".
"What? When?"
"Last night after dinner – Gary might've even mentioned it to you earlier, if...you know, you hadn't been such an arse to him!"
"I wasn't an arse! And if it APPEARED as if I was, it's only because he bloody gets on my nerves – he's so stuck up and so self-important, like we'd be nothing without him!" Robbie defended.
Mark rolled his eyes, "Except, we WOULD be nothing without him – he's our song writer and right now, the only one that can actually sing!"
"Excuse you Owen! I CAN sing!"
"You can rap, Rob" Mark laughed, but before Robbie could retaliate to that, he added, "Just leave off Gary would you? You've been right obsessed with winding him up lately."
"I'm not the only one, Howard was doing the same" Robbie defended.
"Howard's allowed to – it's funny when he does it, but you take it too far Rob" the smaller lad said, as he surveyed the youngest band member with stern look.
"Well, I guess" Robbie began, "it's just if he didn't look down on me all the time, I might not find it such fun!"
"Oh, god Rob! You're hopeless!"
Robbie simply smirked at Mark in reply, his face full of glee and mischief. Mark could only roll his eyes, and left Robbie there in the dressing room wallowing in his own sense of self-satisfaction. Besides they were due on stage in 5 minutes.
The performance, in actual fact, went fine. He was paired with Gary for the dance sequence they'd rushed in rehearsal, in trying to prepare for the TV spot the next day. But trialling it out at the club that night, they'd actually managed to pull it off - and complete with his own cheeky displays to the audience, he was feeling pretty pleased with himself. Straight from off the stage, he'd received a telling off from Nigel before quickly tearing off the now very sweaty, hideous outfit, and running off to the van outside. A little while later the others came out and Gary made for the front of the van to sit in the driving seat. The sight came of great relief to Robbie, for if Gary was driving, then that meant Nigel must've been making his own way home. The significance of that being, they could all just relax and have a nice ride home.
"Nigel, I can drive – don't worry about it, we'll see you back at the studio tomorrow", A soft Northern voice carried from the front of the van, just as Robbie crept in the back and sat down. Mark followed in shortly after.
"No I'll drive, I need to have a word with you all, anyway", Nigel told Gary.
Robbie felt his stomach drop, Nigel was driving them.
YOU ARE READING
Finding Heaven
FanfictionGary Barlow & Robbie Williams, Fluff and Angst, Smut, DRAMA, Creamcakes / Barlliams! Set in the 1990s. They were very different, and they weren't even sure they liked each other. One was young, petulant and immature, while the other was fixated on...
