Finally, after catching Lynne's murderous expression, I realised I didn't want to fall apart in front of the international media. I gestured for a roadie to bring me a microphone, and for the first time that night, I addressed the audience.

"I..." My voice echoed back to me, alien and overpoweringly loud.  I fought the urge to flee the stage.  //You have to do this.//  "I want to dedicate this next song to the person who gave it meaning."  I forced the words out, and was mortified to discover I was close to tears.  I dragged my gaze up from my hands to confront the seething mass of people.  When I spoke, I sent my voice out to them all, hoping that somehow he could hear me.  

"You're so much more than what they think of you."  It took all my will not to add his name to the end of that sentence.  With new strength that came from accepting my loss, I handed the mic back and played.  And with every note, I could hear Darren's voice.  I closed my eyes and savoured it, knowing I would never be able to hear this song again without thinking of him.  And I was glad.  Because now memories were all I had.

I didn't stay for the cheers, the fussing, the photos, the questions.  I rudely excused myself from the stage and headed straight for the tiny dressing room, where I sank to the floor let the misery overtake me.

A knock on the door, so soft it could barely be heard, stirred a faint ray of hope, but I immediately blotted it out.

//Goddammit, it isn't him!// Two thousand false alarms, faces not pale enough, hair not dark enough, eyes not blue enough - I couldn't take another let down, not the way I was feeling right now.  I mentally prepared myself for Lynne, Ben, Karl, Superman... shit, anyone but Darren. So when the door eased open I was completely unprepared for the shock of his eyes, so much bluer than I remembered, and the scent of him, richer, stronger than the traces I'd been savouring from hotel linen for the last endless days and nights.

So beautiful my memories of him paled. I couldn't speak, couldn't even breathe.  He spoke, affirming his realness,

"Why'd you do it?"

I didn't need to ask what he was referring to.  

"It was the only way I could think to find you."

The light in his eyes was blinding.  He regarded me with disbelief, not for a second believing anyone would go to these lengths for him.  //Believe it.  There's never been a truer word spoken.//

"Daniel..." It was like he couldn't find the words.  His eyes flicked to mine, unsure, hesitant, uncomprehending. "I..." A stifled, self-deprecating smile, "I'm in the book."  He finally stated, disbelief in every syllable.

I closed my eyes, releasing a strangled snort that could have been the beginning of a laugh or a sob.  He regarded me with unmasked confusion, until I met his questioning eyes.

"I don't know your last name." I finally admitted, shame and bitter loss colouring my words.

I heard his soft intake of breath.

"I didn't re..." He trailed off, eyes huge and misty, reflecting a storm of emotions.  He seemed to come to a decision, and finally spoke. "It's Hayes ...Darren Hayes."  

//My love has a name. Darren Hayes.//