heroeswork | I'm screaming from outside in, Tell me where I've been

Billy stepped out of his building hands shoved deep into his pockets. Even without anyone really knowing his face, he still wore sunglasses and kept his head down. If it weren't the middle of a hot summer day, he would have added a hat and a high-collared jacket as was demanded of him.

He wasn't happy. Far from it. They were in the heart of New York City. Just like he'd always dreamed. He was selling records like crazy. He had droves of fans. Always top of the charts. More than most people could ever achieve at the young age of 22. But it all seemed like it was happening to someone else. Because he only ever saw the studio or his home. Even after moving to New York a few months ago, he still didn't actually see anyone who liked his music. Because he was forbidden from performing. From even having his photo on his albums. Not even his real name appeared anywhere. He was billed as "CHAOS" and nothing more.

He wasn't supposed to even be outside. His manager forbid it unless he was present as well. But he was off dealing with some business for the day and Billy couldn't stand staying cooped up another moment. He bought a copy of Rolling Stone off the news vendor and ducked into a coffee shop. He found a dim corner away from everyone else as he sipped at his drink. He shoved his sunglasses on top of his head as he flipped opened the magazine. He was after a specific article, listed on the cover.

"True CHAOS" the headline yelled in bold, red letters. The subheading added "Fans and journalists alike demand 'Who is He?!'" The article went on to detail the mystery surrounding his own career. Statements from fans. Attempts to stalk the studio. Pleas for information. An analysis of his music trying to guess at what his accent when when he wasn't singing.

Billy scrubbed at the corner of his eye with the heel of his hand.

Threaded | Flat

He still feels like he sold out. Sure, it's a small indie music magazine, and it gives him time to work on his screenplays and films. It pays shit and he's still living in Alphabet City, but it's not working for some slave corporation.

Part of him still wants to do riots--to tell the world something that matters. He's got a job now and is actually helping Roger out with his 'unfortunate problems,' as Maureen put it. They're all chipping together after Mimi died. Roger's on his way, too. It's... difficult. It's a difficult time for all of them. They can't pay their heat sometimes, let alone proper medication and hospital bills. But still, all of them try and all of them chip in.

Roger had mentioned it once, listening to the radio. How cool it would be if CHAOS revealed himself. He was just talking shit, hopped up on pain medication, but Mark had been there chatting with him and that's when he got the idea.

Mark could do it. Mark could find out who CHAOS was. Why Mark Cohen, living failure of the arts, thought he could track down one of the most illusive men in music without any journalism training at all or instruction on where to begin was beyond him. But still.

Mark slips into one of his favourite cafes and haggles with one of the waitresses for a free drink. The words'I'll gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today' were used, and the quote made he laugh so hard she offered to pay for it herself.

Finally, some good things happening. Between his job and looking for Chaos, it's a bit difficult. He slumps into the booth, all long limps and messenger bags, and sighs happily now that he doesn't have to keep biking around New York for information. Glancing over at the magazine cover the guy next to him has is the last straw to a very tiring day already, and it's barely time for rush hour.

"You buy that whole CHAOS thing?"

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