He had it all. Everything he wanted, he had gotten. He stood there in his penthouse suite, looking out the wall of windows. The radio was playing softly in the background. He stared at his reflection. Emerald green eyes and fiery red hair with a lean body. He had a cigarette  between his figures and a bottle of beer in his hands. He sighed. The darkness of the city outside the windows consumed him, inside and out.

The radio behind him was playing his newest hit song. As he stood there staring out the window, a pair of arms wrapped around his body. A chin places itself on his shoulder and blonde hair spilled over his shoulder. From the reflection, he saw it was his latest girlfriend. He couldn’t remember his name.

"Iain, come on. Let's go to bed." She said.

"Aye. Be righ' there, lass." He replied.

He was turning to go to bed when the radio changed songs. It was another one of his. His first song to be exact. Rockstar.

I'm through with standing in line
To clubs we'll never get in
It's like the bottom of the ninth
And I'm never gonna win
This life hasn't turned out
Quite the way I want it to be

(Tell me what you want)

He chuckled. That was years ago. His life had turned out the way he wanted it to be since he wrote that song.

I want a brand new house
On an episode of Cribs
And a bathroom I can play baseball in
And a king size tub big enough
For ten plus me

(So what you need?)

The girl called his name again. He ignored it. He was getting lost in the memories that had come back to him from so long ago when the song started playing.

I'll need a credit card that's got no limit
And a big black jet with a bedroom in it
Gonna join the mile high club
At thirty-seven thousand feet

(Been there, done that)

He had done that. Just not who he had hoped to do it with. He still remembered the girl from so long ago. She had helped him write this song. He remembered that they used to have so much fun way back when. Joking around, dreaming the same dream about fame and fortune.



I want a new tour bus full of old guitars
My own star on Hollywood Boulevard
Somewhere between Cher and
James Dean is fine for me

(So how you gonna do it?)

The blonde bimbo called his name one more time. He clenched his fists and put the cigarette out before he exploded.

"Tha' ain't mah name!" He yelled. "Tis Allistor to you."

I'm gonna trade this life for fortune and fame
I'd even cut my hair and change my name

Allistor had changed his name when he became famous. He went from Allistor Kirkland and Iain Kirkland. His old self was gone along with his old life. Exactly what he wanted. Right?

"Leave. I dunnea wan ye hear any more." He said,

The blonde refused.

"Git out!" He shouted.

With that, the blonde ran out of the penthouse in tears. He didn’t care. Allistor went to his room to throw some clothes into a duffle bag. There was something he had to do. Something he should have done years ago.

Before he closed the drawer, he caught a glint of light reflecting off of glass. He spotted a picture frame. He picked it up from where it was hidden in the draw and looked at it. It was of him with his arm slung over the shoulders of a girl. They were both smiling. Seeing the picture only succeeded in solidifying his resold. He placed the picture frame on top of the clothes and closed up the duffle bag.

He was going to find the girl who had helped him write that song, the girl that was in the picture frame. The girl with beautiful (h/l) (h/c) hair and glimmering (e/c) eyes.

He was absolutely going to find Her.

'Cause we all just wanna be big rockstars
And live in hilltop houses driving fifteen cars
The girls come easy and the drugs come cheap
We'll all stay skinny 'cause we just won't eat
And we'll hang out in the coolest bars
In the VIP with the movie stars
Every good gold digger's
Gonna wind up there
Every Playboy bunny
With her bleach blond hair

Hey hey I wanna be a rockstar
Hey hey I wanna be a rockstar

Allistor chuckled at the chorus as he remembered the early days of his fame. He tried it all. He had gotten himself into so much shit that his manager suggested that he go to rehab and therapy. He did. Now the only thing he smoked were cigarettes and the occasional cigar.

When he did go to therapy, he got stuck with a psychoanalyst one. When he told the therapist everything, it had suggested that he was living so vicariously because he was trying to fill a void that he made when he became famous. He was trying to replace something that was lost to him.

I wanna be great like Elvis without the tassels
Hire eight body guards that love to beat up assholes
Sign a couple autographs
So I can eat my meals for free

(I'll have the quesadilla on the house)

At first Allistor didn’t believe the therapist. He believed it was just "god damned psychoanalytic shit." I mean, what on earth could he possibly be missing?

Allistor walked out of the pent house and took the elevator down to the loby.

I'm gonna dress my ass
With the latest fashion
Get a front door key to the Playboy mansion
Gonna date a centerfold that loves to
Blow my money for me

(So how you gonna do it?)

He didn’t think he was missing anything. He had money, clothes, girls, booze, and fame. What else was there? He was ready to completely blow the therapist off, but it had planted a seed in the back of his mind. The seed only grew and proved the therapists point when he heard that first song he wrote with Her.

I'm gonna trade this life for fortune and fame
I'd even cut my hair and change my name

He did trade his life in. He became something he's not just to be noticed. Because he was so stupid, he lost he one chance at true love, the one thing most celebrities like himself ended up missing because all the fame warped them.

He got out of the elevator and walked to the cab that was standing on the curb, waiting. He got in.

"(Home town)." He said. "Git me there as fas' as ye can."

"Sure thing, Iain. Visiting family?" The driver asked.

"Allistor. Call me Allistor." He said. "An' sumthin like that."

He looked out the window. Even though he knew it was probably too late, he had to try. Maybe he still had the slightest of chances. Just maybe.

'Cause we all just wanna be big rockstars
And live in hilltop houses driving fifteen cars
The girls come easy and the drugs come cheap
We'll all stay skinny 'cause we just won't eat
And we'll hang out in the coolest bars
In the VIP with the movie stars
Every good gold digger's
Gonna wind up there
Every Playboy bunny
With her bleach blond hair

As he watched the buildings and lights pass him by as he found himself wondering how her life turned out. Did she get the hilltop house? Those fifteen cars they always talked about? Allistor hoped to God that she didn’t end up experimenting with drugs the way he did.

And we'll hide out in the private rooms
With the latest dictionary and today's who's who
They'll get you anything with that evil smile
Everybody's got a drug dealer on speed dial, well

Hey hey I wanna be a rockstar

He chuckled to himself as he remembered that he told the girl that he wanted to all of that stuff with her one day. Everything in that song, he had planned to do with her. But it never happened.

He found himself letting out a sigh of longing. He wished you were happy. No, he prayed you were happy. He wanted at least one of them to be.

As long as his was her, everything would be all right. That’s what he told himself.

I'm gonna sing those songs
That offend the censors
Gonna pop my pills from a pez dispenser

I'll get washed-up singers writing all my songs
lip sync 'em every night so I don't get 'em wrong

The car pulled up in front of a quaint little brick house. Allistor stared at the house, trying to build up the courage to go up and ring the doorbell. He sighed and opened the car door and walked up the walkway to the wooden door. He rapped his knuckled against the wood and waited. He thought about lighting up, but he figured it wouldn’t be a good idea.

Moments later the door opened to reveal an old woman. It took Allistor a few moments to realize that it was his old friends mother, the girl he was trying to find's mother. Her mother recognized Allistor almost immediately.

"Oh, hello there, son. How have you been? It's been a while, hasn’t it?" He said with a smile. "You haven’t changed a bit."

He shrugged. "Aye. It has been a while. I've been fine."

"What brings you here?" The woman asked.

"Does (name) still live here wit' ye?" he asked.

"Oh, no. I'm sorry." She said and Allistor's face fell. "But I do have her new address. You going to drop in for a visit?"

Allistor only nodded. (Name)'s mother invited him in. He obliged and stood in the foyer while he waited for (name)'s mother to return with the address. After a few minutes, she came back with a small slip of paper. She folded it and placed it in his hands.

"Good luck." She said. "She's been waiting." That was the last thing she said before Allistor said goodbye and walked back to the taxicab.

He handed the paper to the cab driver. "Go here." He said.

The driver nodded and started driving down the street.

'Cause we all just wanna be big rockstars
And live in hilltop houses driving fifteen cars
The girls come easy and the drugs come cheap
We'll all stay skinny 'cause we just won't eat
And we'll hang out in the coolest bars
In the VIP with the movie stars
Every good gold digger's
Gonna wind up there
Every Playboy bunny
With her bleach blond hair

The cab finally pulled up in front of a house. Allistor took a look at it. It was quaint. Not too big, not too small. It looked cozy. Allistor found himself smiling a little bit as he got out of the car.

And we'll hide out in the private rooms
With the latest dictionary and today's who's who

Allistor walked up the walk way to the front door, his heart beating faster with each step he took. There was no turning back after he rang that door bell. He quickly lifted his hand and pushed the button.

"Coming!" a voice like filtered through the door.

There was a bit of a rustle and then the door opened to reveal a woman. She had the same (h/l) (h/c) hair and shining (e/c) eyes that he remembered. Those eyes were looking at him with absolute shock.

"Allistor?" She asked in barely a whisper, her eyes filling with tears.

They'll get you anything with that evil smile
Everybody's got a drug dealer on speed dial

Allistor nodded. "Aye. Tis me."

(Name) stared at him and then proceeded to punch him in the arm over and over again. All though her punches weren’t that had, being repeatedly hit in the same place did.

"Oi!" Allistor stepped back. "What's with the fists, lass?"

"It's for all the days I missed hitting you!" She said; tears finally spilling over her eyelids. "For all those days you were gone." She added, almost to herself.

Allistor barely heard what she said, but he still heard it. When (name)'s fist came around again, he caught it. She looked up at him just as he pulled her arm forward, taking her with it. She fell forward into Allistor's chest. She felt one of his arms wrap around her waist and he placed his other hand on the back of her head, smoothing her (h/c) hair.

"I'm back now, ain't I?" Allistor whispered in her ear.

She nodded slowly and slid her arms around his lean, slightly muscular body, her tears falling from her eyes faster. "I'm glad."

Allistor used one of his hands to turn her head up to look at him in the eyes. He gently used his thumb to wipe away some of her tears.

"I missed you." She said.

A small smile tugged at his lips. "I missed ye, too. I just wish I coulda realized a bit sooner, lass."

(Name) smiled through her tears. "So is this the part where the guy gets the girl?"

Allistor grinned. "Only if you want it to be."

With that Allistor leaned in and pressed his lips against (name)'s. When he pulled away, she smiled at him. He couldn’t help but smile back.

"I love ye, (name)." Allistor said,

"I love you, too."

Hey hey I wanna be a rockstar
Hey hey I wanna be a rockstar