Chapter Text
BREAKING NEWS
True parents of the emerging rockstar
“Crüe Muse” from “The Wilted Roses”
Who is Tom Royce? Find out with us!
Shock for every fan of The Wilted Roses, the most influential glam-rock band of this year. The lead singer and guitarist Crüe Muse, known for being open about his relationships in live television and with fans, has never actually been this honest as he seemed to be.
He has been hiding from the press his true identity: Tom Royce from a big family of a mother, father and 5 sisters!
The singer previously has always made clear his lack of parents or siblings, claiming himself as an only child. We're here in the studios with Marie and Marcus Royce, the real parents of a legend.
Said the man on the tv and every newspaper, Crüe was already up in Antoine’s apartment, in between his sheets. The tv wasn't on yet, so he couldn't see the mess he got himself in accidentally.
"Would you rather have a thousand tiny bees up your ass or a huge one?” Crüe asked, while he was turning the pages of a magazine without even really reading it.
“Both would be equally bad in my opinion” the Frenchman said as he sat next to Crüe. “But If I had to choose, I'd pick the huge one.”
“Yeah…I would do too, at least it stings you once and then dies” the blue haired one grabbed his hip and pulled Antoine above, who started immediately kissing him with passion.
“Didn't you have a girl?” Antoine managed to say between kisses.
“You mean Blaire? Don't get me wrong, I like her, she's great, the band is amazing, I've never seen someone play the drums like her but…our relationship is open, I do what I like and she does too.”
And they kept kissing like nothing happened, ignoring that conversation and passing to the main reason Crüe was hanging out with Antoine and his friends: kissing gorgeous men.
The more they kissed, the more Antoine got closer and closer, touching everywhere he could, sliding his hands up and down through his chest and then legs, pressing his lips for hot minutes on the other man’s upper thigh, who let out small moans and grabbed Antoine's head, touching the texture of his silky hair.
Right when this moment couldn't get any better the phone started ringing.
“Excusez-moi” as the french walked to the phone and picked it up with grace. “It's for you Mon-Amour!”
“Who's that? Please, don't tell me it's my manager. I'm not coming if it's that hellspawn.” Crüe was still in the same position as before, in bed, still flushed.
“It’s your girlfri-”
“Tell her I'm sleeping” he said as he turned to the other side of the bed.
“Désolé Blaire, Crüe is sleeping”
The blue haired mess sighed and got up from his spot, with no clothes on in sight, he took the phone from Antoine's hands.
“Mr Muse here my lady, up on my feet, neat and dressed properly for the day.”
He heard a small chuckle from Blaire and she started talking. “I hate how you're funny in the worst ever situations. There's people on the television acting like your parents. Didn't you say you were an orphan? Also, why are you with that french we met last week? I thought it was a one time only thing.”
“For the love of god, I've been up for less than 5 minutes. 1. It's probably someone who's trying to get my attention. 2. You got a problem with me hanging out with a dude?”
“I don't care who you're sleeping with, just turn on the tv man”
Crüe groaned out of boredom and signaled Antoine to turn it on.
“Marie and Marcus, you've been hidden for so long from the media by your own son. We all have so many questions for you. But before asking you the burning question, first, we would like to know some background of your lives.” the interviewer asked, genuinely excited and interested in this situation.
Tom’s parents were both wearing their best clothes, Marie was smiling and ready to start telling people useless things.
“Hello, my name is Marie Baschet and this is my ex husband Marcus Royce. I was born and raised in France, but I met Marcus on vacation and had Tom not so long after. We gave him everything a little kid could ever ask for.” she explained, with the biggest smile of excitement on her face, on the other side, Marcus was just sitting on the chair and zoning out, she nudged him to make him talk. “Y-yeah. Tom was a cute kid” unsure of what to say, he went for the safest answer. “I'm a mechanic”
“Oh well, that's interesting. Has Cr- I mean Tom…always had his gift for music?”
Marie shook her head, amused by such a silly statement in her view, but Marcus answered, remembering one of the only good memories he has with his unknown son.
“I taught him how to play, I took him to church and showed off his skills. He was good.”
“That's wholesome! As I'm guessing, you've never known anything about his drastic change?”
“No, he has never told us anything. That boy just ran away.” the mother said, fixing her dress.
“I'm suing these fuckers.” The rockstar picked up a random outfit, put on his coat and walked out of the flat, only to be attacked by dozens and dozens of fans and journalists.
They shouted his name and countless questions, as he tried to get his way out and smoke a cigarette to calm his nerves.
“Crüe Crüe!! What are you going to say about this? Give us a picture, look this way!” one of them shouted, pointing the camera right into his face.
“I'm not answering any of your questions. Get out of my way.” With frustration, he pushed everyone away with annoyance and aggression, some stayed silent for a second and in the mass of people one screamt one word: “Liar!”
Crüe turned around to see who that was, ready to punch their stupid face, just to see a frowning teen with dark short hair dressed in a ridiculously big jeans jacket, with his same eyes. Many people joined her voice, calling him a dirty stupid liar.
The girl tried to make her way closer to the rocker, but the journalists were way too many and too angry.
He knew who she was, his gaze softened, but still he tried to get away with it and go talk with his manager about this mess of a situation, he ran hoping no one would follow.
Only she ran after, and at a moment he stopped and opened his arms for her.
“You've grown so much taller, stop it”
“And you turn even more stupid everytime I see you. I have so many questions! Jesus, your hair!! They're the coolest!! You made it. You have a band and you're famous now!” She kept hugging him tighter and tighter trying to ignore the big elephant in the room.
“I know! they're the coolest, you would love my bandmates, they're the best people in the world. A huge pain in the ass, but still…” he looked at her clothes. “You're wearing my old greasy shit once again?”
“Yeah...your clothes are the best. Mom tried to convince me to wear a dress but your clothes are way better" she made a small swirl to show off.
“About mom…What's exactly going on? I thought I'd be dead by now for you all”
“Oh some kind of mother instinct was reborn in herself, she cried and cried, called Marcus…if she sees you in person she will start crying even more and hugging you and never letting you go.” she gave him a pat on the back “Good luck with that.”
They started walking toward Crüe’s manager's office, catching up about what happened in the past months, he put an arm around his sister's shoulders.
Everyone at the office was freaking out, bombarded with calls from fans and trying to figure out what the hell was going on.
“Where is Sebastian?” Crüe said, he had never been more relaxed and happy with his little sister.
Sebastian, his manager, was in fact talking with the two menaces to society: Marie and Marcus Royce.
Just as Nora said, when Marie saw her favorite lost son, she ran like a little girl kissed his cheek multiple times and hugged him like nothing ever happened between them.
He didn't return the hug immediately, he wasn't sure if he should keep playing his role or just break down in his mother's arms.
“I thought I'd never see you ever again, I can't live without my baby” she stroked his back in a soothing way, he couldn't resist, she knew the way to his heart.
Nora coughed loudly to get everyone's attention, in that moment he pulled away from the hug, they all had so many questions, except Marcus who standed in the background staring at who he once called ‘the most useless fag piece of shit’ and beat up often when drunk.
When their eyes intertwined it was like both of them were connected, no thoughts.