David Bowie POV.

New York was the place I'd be living in for the next couple of months, my goodbye to Ros was one of the hardest I've ever done. Leaving her with the man that her was hard enough. I was scared of what he could do to her...

My apartment was in Manhattan, and I had a gorgeous view of the New York skyline. The sun hung low making the whole city shadow itself and I hear my front door open.

"It's only us," Angie calls.

Zowie comes stumbling into the room and giggles.

His honey coloured hair like mine, shone in whatever sunlight was still in the city, luckily he didn't inherit the yellow hair my wife had. He was the spitting image of me - thankfully.

"Hello my boy," I pick him up and beam a smile at him.

Zowie giggles again and Angie walks in with her short, yellow, curly hair, she wore a white slinky dress and big heels. She smirks to me and walks over and kisses me.

Every kiss I shared with her, there was no spark, no buzz like I had with Ros...

"Let's try not arguing shall we darling?" She purrs to me and takes our son into the kitchen.

darling

I say nastily in my head. If I had said that out loud, that would be the start of yet argument.

Angie had no idea about my little Brixton trips, she had seen that I had saved the Even Ros predicted that to be in the papers, but that was about all Angie knew. Even that little headline caused a shouting fit from her.

No one except me and Rosalind knew the true story. Ros was kind to me, she would never of shouting at me, and I'd never dream of shouting at her...! We cared about one another.

I head into the very modern kitchen to see Angie making Zowie a sandwich.

"So," She says as I sit down at the table. "Ready for the show?" Deep down I knew she didn't care what happened as long as I brought in the money and made us as a couple look good. That's all she ever cared about, the fame and the money she could spend.

"I think so." I mutter and put a cigarette in my mouth and light it.

"What have you done to your hair?" She asks looking at my slicked back look.

"Don't you like it?" I ask through my teeth and she pulls a face.

I puff out some smoke and roll my eyes at her.

"You'll have to wear a wig for the show, and for the paparazzi." She instructs.

I had forgotten, now that I was in New York there would be more people snapping photos of me and my little family. "Let's try to keep Zowie out of the papers shall we? He's too little." I say sternly, and Angie, for once, agrees with me.

"The paparazzi are absolutely to catch us together, they won't stop until they've got that important photo David...!" She hints to me.

"Well I guess we'll just have to give them what they want." I sigh and roll my eyes again. "Let's take a walk then. I'll get Margo to watch over Zowie." Angie grins a smile at my words, she the spotlight. Much more than I did, but she was a model, she was born for the camera.

I was born for the microphone, something different.

*****

We began walking down the street, I wore the usual wig I wore for on stage and photo shoots, but this wig was used before my Diamond Dogs album. I wore my square glasses I wore as my disguise in Brixton which then made me think of Ros.

The sudden flashes of cameras took me from my thoughts and suddenly everyone's shouting mine and Angie's names... Startled, I'm stood there awkwardly and frozen.

"Smile...!" Angie spits at me as she smiles widely towards all the men with cameras.

I put my arm around her and lean my lips to the crook of her neck, I hated this, to the world, I broke so many girls hearts because of this marriage... That included my Rosalind.

Angie's arm rested over my shoulders, she looked dead ahead at the cameras. The paparazzi were falling over their feet just to get the classic photo of the rockstar and the model.

It was almost a little sad, that we were the most well-known couple in the 70's, yet we were so unhappy half the time. Actually, make that of the time. I was more happy when she wasn't even around.

We never see each other, I barely ever see my son...! I missed Brixton, I missed Ros's smile, her classic red lip stick, and that one jumper with my face and name on that she always wore... I missed the youth and liveliness of her...

"Thank you boys, but if you don't mind me and my husband must be gettin' home to our son!" Angie says strongly with her American accent, slightly bragging and finally winks at them all.

We rush home, as soon as we're through the door I take the wig and sunglasses off and put them on the table.

I shove another cigarette into my mouth and light it, Margo comes in with her head glued to her phone and waves to us. She puts the phone on her shoulder. "Zowie's asleep, having his afternoon nap. Nice walk?"

"Yes, thank you, Margo." I smile to her and she goes back talking on the phone about my tour. Tickets were selling out fast, I wouldn't be back in the UK for a good few months... I'd be missing Ros's birthday...

I couldn't do that to her, I couldn't miss birthday... I her... I missed the buzz I got when we kissed...

Angie kicked off her heels and winks at me, I sadly smiled back feeling slightly sick at the gesture she had just given me. Her smile drops. "What's wrong honey?" She says with her very strong accent, I could see how hard she was trying to be polite to me, soon enough she would snap.

"Nothing just a little tired." I lie and she puts her boney hand through my hair and kisses my head.

"I've missed you, David." She says sweetly, still putting on an act.

I smile, I didn't want to say it back, but... "I missed you too." ... She'd question it otherwise. Sadly I was playing the same game as she was. Neither of us were prepared to lay our cards on the table.

"I'm gonna catch up with some of the girls tonight, can you look after Zowie tonight?" She asks putting some mascara on.

"Of course, you don't need to ask Angie, he is my son too." I put our TV on and sit there until Angie comes back out in a different dress and shoes.

"See you later then." She smirks.

"Have a good time." I tell her not really meaning it.

Once the door was closed, I went to check on Zowie who was happily playing with his toys. Margo went into New York for a late night shopping trip, it felt like the entire city had stopped, it was so quiet.

I look at my telephone, it was almost 7... Ros's number was still on that scrap paper I had kept and I dialled it in. It would be about midnight in the UK.

The phone rang and rang and I began to lose hope... That's when I heard her sweet voice.

"Hello?" She asks a little groggy.

"My darling, it's me!" I tell her excitedly.

"David...!" She mutters happily.

"I'm sorry I woke you." I say with a smirk.

"Oh, it's fine, honestly. How's New York?" She asks glad to hear from me.

"It would've been better if you were here my little rebel. How's things with you? Everything ok between you and Kevin...?" I ask carefully, it was quite a touchy subject about our other halves.

"Yes, uh- we're . You know, we'll survive." She pauses. "How's Angie?"

"She's on best behaviour so far... Which is incredible. It won't last though. She's gone out tonight. She dragged me out of the apartment just so the paparazzi could get a glimpse of us earlier..."

"Sounds tragic." She says a little sarcastically.

"I miss you, Ros..." I whimper.

I longed to be with her, to take her out for a nice meal, or just to the pub to have a laugh... I wanted to feel the buzz again, the feeling of love and being so happy, that feeling I barely ever got with Angie anymore.

"I miss you too David..." She mutters back to me.

"I just wanted to hear your voice, I'll call again when I can, I love you my darling rebel."

"I love you too... Goodnight." She whispers trying not to wake Kevin up... Obviously.

She hangs up and I smile.

"Daddy?" Zowie mumbles to me.

I turn around to see his thumb in his mouth and a toy in his free hand. I beam a smile at him and pick him up. "Oh my boy, I love you." I tell him and kiss his head.

The only thing good that has come out of this marriage so far between me and Angie is my son, I knew deep down that one of the reasons I hadn't left Angie yet was because of the boy in my arms...