It's Valentines Day! Due to a disagreement with the Royal Mail over what sort of material is suitable for sending through the post, we haven't actually sent Nicola a Valentines card this year, so instead we've turned our attention towards romance of a difference kind with a little tale that we like to call Sacred Thrust...

It's June 2003, the sun is shining, the weather is sweet and people are so full of joy and happiness that many of them want to move their dancing feet. But things weren't quite so rosy in One True Voice's popstar flat where Anton, Daniel, Jamie, Keith and Matt were arguing, as they often did, over which one of them was actually which.

"I'm pretty sure I'm Anton", said Keith.

"No, no, no, you can't be Anton", said Anton, "That's Anton", he said, pointing at Jamie.

Jamie looked confused. "No, I'm not Anton, I'm Matt, and I can prove it, I've got my initial on the label of my boxer shorts"

"Are you sure that's not just the size?" asked Daniel, who was quietly confident that he was Matt.

"Oh, maybe", said Jamie sadly.

"Who are you?", asked Patrick MacGoohan of the bearded gentleman who had just walked into the room.

"The new number two", he replied tersely.

"Who is number one?", asked Patrick.

"You are number six", said Number two.

"I am not a number! I'm a free man!", shouted Patrick, before running out of the flat while Number Two chased after him clutching a beachball.

The One True Voice boys looked confused at that unexpected interruption, but quickly rallied themselves round and continued their argument. "So which poor sap is Keith then?" asked Keith. Everyone murmured and looked at their shoes, no-one wanting to take responsiblity for that.

Matt sighed, "Let's get this sorted out, then". He pulled out a copy of Smash Hits and flicked through it until he found a picture of the band. "Right, from left to right, You're Anton. You're Daniel.", he pointed appropriately, "I'm Matt, you're Jamie and you're Keith. Sorry".

Keith looked heartbroken. "No, it can't be true! I can't be Keith, I want to be Anton!"

Anton laid a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, "Sorry mate, it is. But it's not so bad. Here, look at yourself in this mirror"

"NO! No mirrors!", yelled Keith, smacking the mirror away. It fell out of Anton's hands and smashed against the floor, shattering into a million pieces, just like the shattered dreams of a failed popstar.

"Wow", said Matt, "Wouldn't it be ironic if the mirror, which has just shattered into a million pieces, just like the shattered dreams of a failed popstar, was a foreshadowing of our own future failure."

"No", said Jamie, "No it wouldn't. For a start it's not shattered into a million pieces just like the shattered dreams of a failed popstar, it's broken into, at most, 10 pieces, but most importantly our dreams aren't about to shatter like the aforesaid broken mirror. Pete Waterman's about to arrive at our pop star flat and tell us the midweek placing of our latest single Shakespeare's (Way With) Words"

"That's a good point, although those brackets are awkwardly placed, aren't they", said Matt, "How do you think it's going to do? I reckon it's got to be number one!", he squealed.

Daniel and Jamie agreed with Matt, it was definitely going to be a number one and would show those silly Girls Aloud girls exactly who was the real talent in the Popstars: The Rivals contest. Keith was still sulking about being Keith, so didn't voice an opinion, while Anton, rather stupidly, exclaimed that he thought it was going to go even higher than that. The boys were all excited at the thought and decided to stop arguing and wait for Pete to turn up and tell them the good news. Matt looked at his watch, then looked hungrily at Jamie. Just as he was about to suggest something that the pair of them could do to pass the time, a "Whoo-whoo!" noise started echoing outside the flat and the boys looked hopefully towards the door. Pete was about to arrive.

SLAM! The door smashed open and a couple of lackeys ran in, laying down train tracks as Pete's train came steaming into the flat. An oval of rail was quickly built up around the boys and Pete began circling them, perched upon the driver seat of his locomotive, as he told them the news they'd been waiting to hear.

"Right kids", he said, "I invented kids you know. And carpet. And the Right of Succession to the throne, that was all me. I did it when I had a spare afternoon free after inventing disco and before coming up with Steps. Anyway, your record's only going to hit number ten, I'm cutting my losses and getting out. You're a failed boyband, and I should know; I invented failed boybands. And fish. And gravity, that was a good one that, but it does mean I know for a fact when something's been dropped and you kids, you've been dropped. You're good kids, but you just can't cut it. See ya!".

His lackeys quickly laid down more track and his train steamed out of the front room, the rattling rhythm of the wheels going "I-invented-that I-invented-that I-invented-that I-invented-that".

There was a shocked silence in the room, broken only by distant "Whoo-whoo-ing". The boys all looked at each other, tears in their eyes. As one they all looked down towards the broken mirror. "Look!", said Matt, "Our dreams have been shattered into a million pieces, just like that mirror!".

"I know!", said Jamie and he began to sob. Matt began crying as well and the two of them moved forward, embraced and began weeping into each other's shoulders. The others looked at them, they were either jealous at their open display of emotion or embarrassed at such an unmasculine display of wearing your heart on your sleeve. Either way, with looks that bordered on disgust or respect, the other three members quickly slipped away, leaving the two of them to their unconstrained sobfest.

Eventually the tears subsided and Jamie and Matt broke their embrace. Holding each other's gaze for a short, but significant moment before wiping their eyes and blowing their noses in an embarrassed way.

"So", said Matt.

"It's not fair", said Jamie, "I didn't want to be in One True Voice anyway. I wanted to be in the other band"

"Phixx?" asked Matt.

"No, Girls Aloud"

"Really?". Matt raised an eyebrow quizzically, "I think you lack certain attributes that you would have needed to get picked."

"Yeah, it's all my mum's fault. I wanted to get a boob job when I was 16 but she wouldn't let me. She said I was too young".

"Did she really say that?"

"Well, no, she said it was because I was a boy and that I wasn't to be so bloody stupid, but she was just using that as an excuse. She ruined my dreams. I'd have been a great member of the band. I've got better legs than Kimberly for a start."

"That's a point", said Matt who started desperately casting around for a way to change the subject. Look", he pointed, "your t-shirt is soaked from where I was crying, maybe you should take it off".

Jamie looked at his shoulder, a damp patch had formed from Matt's tears. "You're right", he said and he quickly removed it, "You've got the same problem as well. Maybe you should take yours off too."

Matt had no arguments with this and swiftly removed his as well. He decided not to bring up the fact that Jamie was wearing a bra under his t-shirt and moved on to phase two of his plan of attack. "I think some of my tears might have spilled onto your jeans as well, maybe you should take them of as well, just to be on the safe side. I don't want you catching pneumonia!".

Jamie looked slightly unsure, but slowly pulled down his jeans. Matt was clearly very concerned for his own health and well-being as he tore off his own, possibly tear-sodden trousers, and threw them across the room. "And your boxers, they might have got wet as well", said Matt, breathing heavily, "Don't want to take any risks"

Before Jamie even had a chance to answer, Matt had already pulled down his own underwear and had stepped across to pull down Jamie's. As he removed them he looked at the label. "Hey!", he said slightly cross, "These are mine!".

"Ah", said Jamie, "That explains the confusion earlier, then". The two, now completely naked, looked each other up and down.

"So", said Matt, "Seeing as we're naked now, would you like to have my sacred thrust in you?"

Jamie looked at his watch. He had time. "Sure, why not?"

Matt put his sacred thrust in Jamie.

"Ooh!", went Matt.

"Aah!", went Jamie.

"Blimey! Your brackets are quite awkwardly placed, aren't they?", went Matt.

The End