(no subject)
Five Ways Pete Did Not Tell Carl He Loved Him.
01. "Good morning," says Pete to Carl's half-opened eyes. Carl throws an arm around him and falls back asleep.
02. It's on the tip of Pete's tongue, his dry, nervous tongue. Something important that he has to tell Carl, except he can't remember what it was. "We're recording," says Mick Jones. Carl sneezes as the music swells. Pete winces. It's a bad omen. First album, first song, first take, all fucked and all Pete can remember to say is, "Cheers, Carlos."
01. Why use words when you can punch someone? The meaning's the same; I love you, I hate you. I want to fucking... Carl's eyes are dark and he's sweating. He's skinny as a coffin nail as he stumbles across the room from Pete. The moonlight from an uncurtained window catches him, cradles him. Carl is smiling.
04. It's Valentine's Day. As a rule, The Libertines do not do Valentine's Day on the grounds that love should be celebrated every day of the year. Or some bullshit like that- Pete was so badly wasted when he spewed that all over Carl (and Gary and John) that he hardly knew what he was saying. Everyone else took him seriously, the drunken bastards. Pete got fucked. Now it's Valentine's Day and Pete can't even wish his best friend a good day. All he can do is hold Carl close and never let go.
05. "I don't hate you," says Pete, bewildered. Carl's in one of those moods, the dark moods where the demons have broken out of their cages and Carl can't get out of bed, save the bathroom and the alcohol cabinet. "You do hate me," says Carl, pulling the covers up over his stomach, as if he were a teenage girl with something to hide. "You don't have to pretend." Pete takes off his shoes and crawls onto the bed next to Carl. He takes Carl's hand and falls asleep. Come nightfall, Carl shakes him awake and they're ready now.
01. "Good morning," says Pete to Carl's half-opened eyes. Carl throws an arm around him and falls back asleep.
02. It's on the tip of Pete's tongue, his dry, nervous tongue. Something important that he has to tell Carl, except he can't remember what it was. "We're recording," says Mick Jones. Carl sneezes as the music swells. Pete winces. It's a bad omen. First album, first song, first take, all fucked and all Pete can remember to say is, "Cheers, Carlos."
01. Why use words when you can punch someone? The meaning's the same; I love you, I hate you. I want to fucking... Carl's eyes are dark and he's sweating. He's skinny as a coffin nail as he stumbles across the room from Pete. The moonlight from an uncurtained window catches him, cradles him. Carl is smiling.
04. It's Valentine's Day. As a rule, The Libertines do not do Valentine's Day on the grounds that love should be celebrated every day of the year. Or some bullshit like that- Pete was so badly wasted when he spewed that all over Carl (and Gary and John) that he hardly knew what he was saying. Everyone else took him seriously, the drunken bastards. Pete got fucked. Now it's Valentine's Day and Pete can't even wish his best friend a good day. All he can do is hold Carl close and never let go.
05. "I don't hate you," says Pete, bewildered. Carl's in one of those moods, the dark moods where the demons have broken out of their cages and Carl can't get out of bed, save the bathroom and the alcohol cabinet. "You do hate me," says Carl, pulling the covers up over his stomach, as if he were a teenage girl with something to hide. "You don't have to pretend." Pete takes off his shoes and crawls onto the bed next to Carl. He takes Carl's hand and falls asleep. Come nightfall, Carl shakes him awake and they're ready now.