~"I was alone, I took a ride, I didn't know what I would find there,
Another road where maybe I could see another kind of mind there.
Then suddenly I see you."~

It shouldn't have surprised him and still some part of him had troubles processing the idea of Celeste as a mother, when it really shouldn't have. If Brian thought about it, a lot of her behaviour even made more sense with this thought in mind. She really hadn't kept him at arm's length to play hard to get, she had indeed as she had said other priorities than having a one night stand with him. Even her caring nature after he had been injured seemed fitting for a mother.

So, why couldn't Brian believe it then?

It probably was only wishful thinking on his part. A girl without any responsibilities was easier to charm and to get rid of than one in Celeste's situation. As she had said she wanted a man to only love her and only her and Brian surely wouldn't be that man, so his chances to get anywhere with her were very low, even a friendship seemed nearly unrealistic now, which annoyed him. Brian hated to admit it, but he had enjoyed speaking to her. She was intelligent and for once somebody wasn't expecting anything from him, even if it unnerved him that she thought so little of him, only because he was famous. Marion only liked him for his fame and Celeste avoided him for it. It nearly had something funny about it how different the two sisters were. 

"What are you thinking about?"

He knew how low he was acting by thinking about one sister while he was in bed with the other one, but how couldn't he have thought about Celeste when he was in her home? There had been no trace of her again, when he had entered with Marion and despised everything that told him to stay away from her, he was horribly curious.

"Brian! I am talking to you!" Marion exclaimed, moving away from him. She sat on the edge of the bed and put her underwear back on. Brian knew he had messed up, but to be honest he didn't care much in that moment. He probably had reached his limit of her for today anyway. "You know you can be a real bastard..." She said sighing and added with an annoyed edge to her voice: "Why do I even care? Forget it, I need to leave anyway and you probably should as well. You need to go to the studio, you're recording something today."

Brian frowned. "I didn't tell you about it."

"Maybe someone else did..." she said in a sickly sweet tone and straightened her dress, before she moved in front of the mirror to reapply her lipstick and to comb her hair.

"Bitch..." he mumbled.

"Maybe, but no longer yours," she remarked, turning towards him with a taunting smile on her face and mockingly blow a kiss in his direction before she left the room.

Brian cursed. He wasn't even annoyed that Marion was no longer interested in him, hell he was even glad to be rid of her in a way, but he couldn't stand it if people clearly played him. He lighted himself a cigarette to calm down, even if he doubted it would help. He should have gone after her and told her off, but that meant getting up and Brian was quite comfortable where he was. Making him question if he really should leave, recording with the others was most of the time an endless harassment on his part and he could imagine himself doing far better things than arguing with Keith and Mick. He knew he couldn't stay here forever and he surely didn't want to be here when Marion got back, but there surely was enough time for another cup of tea at least. Celeste had given him the address of the place, that sold it in New York, but he still hadn't tried to get any, because there had been no rush as long as he could drink it whenever he was at Marion's, but he supposed those times were over.

Brian nearly had to laugh at the thought that he would miss being here. It wasn't only the tea, but Marion's home or rather Celeste's had something very comfortable about it. It made you feel at ease, at home even and Brian definitely could use moments where he simply felt at peace without doing anything. Usually he put a record on, when he was alone to fill the silence with something and to be honest to feel not alone, but there was no need here, even the silence had something comforting about it.

He definitely would miss that.

It nearly was ironic, he had got together with Marion, because he didn't want to become attached and what did he do? He had grown attached to her home. Again Brian nearly wanted to laugh at his own fucked up luck. He really couldn't do something right once in a while.

Maybe he should just stop thinking about it and enjoy his cigarette and his tea, before he finally had to leave.

*

It was getting late and Brian still hadn't left.

He had been about too, but then his curiosity had got the best of him. He had been here so often and he had never taken a proper look around that it seemed a shame to leave before doing so.

The flat was quite big and considering where it was located it must have been worth a fortune, making Brian wonder who was paying for it. Marion surely wasn't and he doubted Celeste could afford it as a waitress. The most logical explanation for him at this point was that Celeste had been married before and had gained quite some money when she got divorced. Brian found no proof to underline his theory though. The only thing he did find that seemed at least somewhat helpful was a photo album, which in the end made him have more question than he already had.

Brian knew Celeste had been in New York before, but he certainly hadn't known that while she was there had apparently been friends with Bob Dylan and rather good ones, at least they looked pretty close on the pictures. One was of them inside a bar or something and Dylan had his arm around Celeste and she was smiling at him. Another one was of her sitting next to him on a stool before a piano. There were three or four more and in every single one, they looked close, making Brian wonder if there was more behind her distaste for rock stars than what she had told him.

Most of the other photos showed Celeste with different people, whom he didn't recognise or wasn't completely sure who they were. A few faces seemed familiar, but the pictures were older, making Brian doubt. They had to be taken sometime during the early 60's, probably before Celeste had become pregnant. He had no idea how old her child was, but if he went already to school, he had at least to be 4, meaning that these pictures had to be older than 5 years at least.

The only ones he found with a date on where those of her son. Next to every picture was written a date in clear handwriting. Celeste obviously loved to photograph him and document every little thing the boy did.

Brian loved to take photographs as well, but photographing the same person over and over again sounded horribly boring to him, even if it was her son didn't she have more interesting things to do than fuss over him? She evidently loved music, so why wasn't she doing something with that? She obviously had connections and Brian had no doubt that Celeste could make it if she wanted to. Raising a son on her own could hardly have been her dream.

He still wondered somewhat how he had missed that beside the two girls, a child was living with them. On his tour through the flat Brian remarked that it actually was rather obvious. There was a framed children drawing on the wall and he could see here and there a few toys lying around. Celeste definitely was spoiling the boy, Brian thought and he got proven right when he saw his room. Her son probably owned enough toys for 5 children at least.

It kind of was a harsh contrast to Celeste's room which was nearly empty. There was the elementary furniture, bed and wardrobe, but that was nearly it. There was some pop art painting on the wall, a book on her nightstand and a few photographs on her dresser of her son and a few with her sister.

Marion's room was however the least interesting, it only held clothes, handbags and other accessories, nothing that told Brian anything new and to be honest he cared for her the least anyway.

Celeste was who interested Brian, even though he knew he probably should stay away from her. No matter what everyone believed he indeed had a conscience and it nearly shouted at him to leave and never come back. However, Brian wouldn't have been Brian, if he had listened to it. Instead he sat down with another cup of tea in her kitchen and waited for her to turn up.

Forgetting that he necessarily didn't have the best luck.

"Mummy, there is a strange man in our kitchen!"

*Lyrics by the Beatles. 

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