Interview with Vanity Howard. Take one
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"Welcome back, folks. Today, we're joined by none other than Vanity, the enigmatic partner of the legendary Sid Vicious. Vanity, it's a pleasure to have you here."
Vanity lent back in the chair, blowing smoke out of her mouth from the cigarette she was smoking. "Pleasure's all yours, darling."
"So, you've recently made the move across the pond to America. What are your thoughts on the land of the free?" The woman raised a brow.
She smirked"Oh, America, the land of opportunity, where dreams come true... or so they say. Honestly, it's just another concrete jungle with slightly bigger rats. But hey, at least the pizza's decent." Vanity shrugged her shoulders.
The interviewer raised a brow before asking another question. "Your partner Sid Vicious has recently embarked on a solo career. Can you shed some light on that decision?"
Vanity sighed, she knew this woman was just trying to get details about the Sex Pistols break up, she could think again. "Ah, yes, Sid's newfound independence. It's like watching a puppy trying to figure out how to use the doggy door. But hey, if he wants to make some noise on his own, who am I to stop him? it was me who suggested it in the first place."
"And what about Malcolm McLaren?" Here we go, Vanity thought He's been a prominent figure in the Sex Pistols' journey. Any thoughts on him?"
Vanity huffed and crossed her legs over one another, now sitting upright in the chair. "Malcolm McLaren... now there's a name that brings back memories. Let's just say he's about as trustworthy as a politician with a used car salesman's smile. The less I have to do with him, the better."
"Why do you say that?" The interviewer asked. "Because it was just money, money, money to him. he didn't care about those boys whatsoever, i have to protect Sid's career because he can't do it. he's not even on the same fucking planet as everyone half of the time"
"It sounds like you've had quite the journey so far. What's next for Vanity and Sid Vicious?" The woman asked, as she looked up from her list of questions.
"Who knows, darling? Maybe we'll conquer the world, maybe we'll fade into obscurity. Either way, we'll do it in style. As long as there's good music, good company, and a few laughs along the way, we'll be just fine."
Clearly this interview wasn't quite wrapped up yet as much as Vanity wanted it to be, because the woman kept on speaking. "Vanity, your journey with Sid Vicious has been accompanied by rumours of substance abuse, particularly heroin. Can you speak to those rumours?
Vanity smiled in her head. She thought it was hilarious how people were just finding out about her using when she'd been on and off using drugs since the end of 1975. it was now the start of 1978. "Ah, the whispers of the tabloids. Heroin, huh? Sounds like a romanticised tragedy straight out of a B-grade movie. But let me tell you, sweetheart, the reality is far less glamorous. We all have our demons, don't we? Some just wear theirs on their sleeves." It was rather amusing as Vanity was sat in this small room, a pair of yellow rimmed sunglasses on because of her tired looking eyes getting interviewed in New York City, her first time as Sid's manager.
"It must be a challenging path to navigate. Are you ever scared of the dangers that come with such a lifestyle? The risk of overdose, for example?" The woman raised a brow suggestively, almost as if trying to get Vanity to admit a fear she no longer had.
"Scared? Darling, fear is a luxury I can't afford. We live fast, we die young, and we leave a beautiful corpse, or so they say. But let me tell you, death holds no sway over me. I've danced with the devil too many times to be afraid of the darkness." She tilted her head downwards and stubbed her cigarette out on the ashtray.
"Don't you think that's a bold stance to take. Do you ever worry about the impact of your lifestyle on those around you, particularly Sid?" Now she was really pushing it.
"Sid can handle himself, darling. He's not some fragile little flower that needs protecting. If anything, he's the one who keeps me grounded. We're in this together, for better or for worse. And believe me, it's been a wild ride so far."
PRESENT DAY
Sid and Vanity lay side by side in their dimly lit bedroom, the weight of their circumstances pressing down on them like a heavy blanket. The anticipation of Tiffany's return with their next fix hung in the air, a reminder of their dependency on the drug to escape their reality, America seemed like an opportunity to get away from everything but things hadn't gotten better. in fact it had gotten much, much worse.
Vanity's voice trembled with frustration as she broke the silence. "When is Tiffany coming back, Sid? We can't keep waiting like this." She moved her hair out of her face.
Sid's response was barely audible, his words muffled by the fact he had his eyes shut and was almost asleep. "I don't know." Tears welled up in Vanity's eyes as she buried her face into Sid's shoulder, her sobs echoing in the confined space of the room. "I hate this fucking life," she whispered hoarsely, her voice laced with pain. she felt ashamed and stuck. like she was in a cycle everyday. That's what heroin did to her. She felt trapped and like every single second, no matter how much time had passed that every moment was on a constant loop.
Sid's arm wrapped around her trembling form, pulling her closer in a feeble attempt to offer comfort. "It's just a rough patch, love. Things will get better when we get to America, I promise," he murmured softly, Sid could barely think of what to say. it was a miracle that he'd even picked up on Vanity's conversation.
But Vanity's tears continued to fall, her despair filling the atmosphere in the quiet of the room. "We're already in America, Sid," she choked out between sobs, her words hanging heavy in the air like a bitter truth. Sid's expression shifted, confusion clouding his features as he processed her words. "We've been here for a week," Vanity added, her voice breaking with the weight of their reality. He didn't even know where they were...how could he not know?
The realisation washed over Sid like a wave, his heart sinking with the gravity of their situation. In the darkness of their room, Sid got up out of bed, looking at his (To him) new surroundings.
He stumbled a little as he walked however when he got to the balcony doors he swung them open and the bright, grey light hit him straight in the face. he shut his eyes tightly, feeling a slight ache in his head from the strain he'd just put himself through.
However once his eyes had adjusted he saw the vastness of where they were. As Sid stepped out onto the balcony, the bustling city of New York greeted him with its cacophony of sounds and sights. The towering skyscrapers stretched towards the sky, their glass facades reflecting the muted sunlight that filtered through the thick layer of clouds.
Below, the streets teemed with life, a constant flow of people and vehicles moving in chaotic harmony. The honking of car horns and the distant rumble of subway trains filled the air, creating a symphony of urban sounds that seemed to pulse with the heartbeat of the city.
Sid leaned against the railing, his gaze wandering over the sprawling metropolis before him. The skyline was a patchwork of architectural marvels, each building standing as a testament to human ambition and ingenuity. From the iconic silhouette of the Empire State Building to the sleek lines of the Chrysler Building, New York City seemed to pulse with energy and possibility.
But beneath the surface glamour, Sid could sense the undercurrent of grit and resilience that defined the city. The graffiti-covered walls, the bustling street vendors, the endless parade of faces that passed by below. He turned his head and saw on the side of the hotel was a large sign in red and orange lights
The Chelsea Hotel
Despite the chaos and uncertainty that hung over him like a shroud, Sid couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope stir within him. In the vast expanse of the city, he saw the promise of a new beginning, a chance to leave behind the demons of their past and forge a future of their own making.
But would that ever happen?
As Sid stood on the balcony, taking in the sights and sounds of New York City, a familiar sound caught his attention. He turned to see Tiffany's figure emerging from the entrance of the building, a small bag clutched tightly in her hand. Sid's heart skipped a beat at the sight of her, a mixture of relief and apprehension washing over him.
"Tiffany's back," Sid called out to Vanity, his voice tinged with uncertainty. He could feel the weight of their shared burden pressing down on him, the knowledge that their next fix was just moments away bringing a sense of both dread and relief.
Vanity joined Sid on the balcony, her eyes searching the bustling streets below for any sign of Tiffany's approach. "Finally," she murmured, her voice laced with exhaustion. "Let's hope she's got something decent this time."
As Tiffany made her way up the stairs towards them, Sid felt a knot form in his stomach. He knew that their addiction had taken its toll on all of them, but he couldn't shake the feeling of dependence that gripped him whenever Tiffany arrived with their supply.
When Tiffany arrived into their hotel room, her expression was grim, her eyes clouded with worry. "I've got some bad news," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Mickey's usual supplier fell through, and I couldn't find anyone else."
Sid's heart sank at her words, a sense of panic rising within him. Without their fix, he knew that the withdrawal symptoms would soon begin to set in, sending them spiralling into a cycle of agony and despair.
Vanity's grip tightened on Sid's hand, her eyes flashing with anger and frustration. "What are we supposed to do now?" she demanded, her voice trembling with emotion.
Tiffany's gaze shifted between them, her own sense of helplessness mirroring their own. "I don't know," she admitted, her voice barely audible over the din of the city below. "But we'll figure something out. We always do."
"We need a score for fuck sake!" Sid lashed out making Tiffany flinch. he sighed "I'm sorry...but you know how i get when i get withdrawal" Tiffany gasped a little before speaking. "I could see if i could get in contact with my old dealer."
Vanity sighed a sigh of relief. "Well can you call him?"
"I can try"
"Well what're we waiting for then?" Sid grabbed his jacket and grabbed Tiffany's arm as they went down to reception. And not even an hour later Mickey walked through the door, finding Vanity, Sid and Tiffany sprawled out on the floor, three needles scattered across from them and two bent spoons.
Nothing's changed much has it?