Clover's Full Backstory

Written 7/18/26

A (not so) short summary of Clover's... unique life- everything that made him the man that he was, and what eventually became of him.

!!! Content warning: !!!

This is my most mature story by a lot. Includes discussions of sex (although never described in detail), unwanted advances, eating disorders, vulgar language, infidelity, violence involving fire, drugs, and Clover being a very disturbed sex addict overall. An intentionally shocking, wild ride. Proceed with caution.

Back to Clover

1: Early Life

Clover's life started out normal enough. He was the youngest of four siblings with well-off parents. Starting piano lessons at the age of four and performing his first large recital a year later, he was even something of a musical prodigy.

But everything changed after the death of his father. His mother, Elsa Hill, took up smoking and neglected her children. She was eventually fired from her job and the family had to move to a much drabbier part of England. After being pulled from piano lessons to focus on school, the young Crispin underwent some behavioral changes of his own. He became an extremely aggressive child, constantly destroying things and attacking his siblings. Instead of seeking help for her clearly disordered son, Elsa severely punished him for acting out, sometimes physically, which only brewed more anger in him.

On one of these occasions, Crispin hid himself under her bed, the eight year-old planning to wreck the place when she gave up searching for him. Upon opening up her bedside drawer, however, he found something that made his anger shockingly vanish for once. They were photographs of adults, mostly men, all wearing little or no clothing. Who were these people? Where did Elsa get them? Whatever the case, they awakened strange feelings in the boy. He quickly shoved them back where he found them, but curiosity soon got the better of him. He came back to inspect them again, and again, and again, sometimes even taking them to his own room. And Elsa was none the wiser.

Despite his temporary distractions, though, primary school life was a living nightmare for Crispin. Secondary school didn't start off much better. By fifteen, he still looked like a nine year old. Everyone knew him as the short ugly kid with an even shorter temper, the easy target of bullying that he lacked the physical strength to stand up to. At times it was so bad that he wondered if life was worth living. Better to make himself die before it got worse, maybe.

But gradually, he began to notice a pattern among the other kids at school. Among the usual archetypes, there was a certain group of students who seemed to have everything under control, attracting girls and respect alike. They all exhibited the same pool of mannerisms: a confident flourish, a cool wit, and a temper that was always hidden under a charming smile. Slowly but surely, Crispin began to copy them. He fixed up his appearance, too, forcing his mom to buy him better clothes and stealing some of his older sister's makeup to cover the acne he had at the time. Upon entering his 12th year, Crispin looked like a completely different person. His bullies quickly moved on to newer students, girls began to give him the eye, and he eventually slid into a small group of guys who, upon agreeing that his name didn't suit him, coined the nickname Clover. Although seemingly inconsequential, this name would come to form his new persona, his new self. Crispin was his old self- the angry, unloved child that he had to repress as much as possible. It became increasingly easy as time went on, but every now and then Crispin would rise like a bile in his throat, threatening to choke him and take over his unconscious body.

Among his new group of friends, a shared love of music was eventually discovered. More specifically, a love for a local subcategory of experimental rock influenced by the recent psychedelic era. In an effort to fit in with his friends, Clover picked up piano again, even buying his first cheap synthesizer. Granted, to say that he had gotten rusty since his early childhood would be an understatement. But what did it matter? He could keep a good backing chord to add some ambiance. That was all they really needed. Throughout his final year of school, the group would meet up for as many jam sessions as they could, even landing a few small gigs. Everything was leading up to graduation day when they would have all the time in the world to finally focus on their music.

But Clover had more important things than music on his mind come the night of the big senior party. Although the other guys had gone through a number of girlfriends that year and Clover himself wasn't short of options, he had his sights set on one girl in particular: Jasmine. She was considered by many to be the hottest at their school and she had just broken up with the football champion. After bottles were passed around and the party started to die down, some of the guys dared Clover to finally talk to her. Despite never befriending any girls before, the two hit it off quite well. So much so that she accepted his offer to drive her home to take the discussion further. He discovered something new about himself that night. The entire world opened up to him in just her small twin bed. Never before had he experienced so much pleasure, so much validation. It was as if all the years of abuse had finally led to this moment, like all the love that he was denied of had come rushing over him like a flood. Like a drug, sex had finally revealed its mysteries. And Clover was hooked.

2: Rabbit's Burrow

For better or for worse, Jasmine never spoke to him again. Graduation itself was also uneventful. But the world was his oyster now. The year was 1971 and Clover was eighteen years old, now able to afford his own apartment in a fairly decent area thanks to the band's tiny profits. After promptly replacing the members that were going off to college, Rabbit's Burrow began acquiring as many gigs as possible. Whether in spite of or thanks to their unique sound, the group slowly garnered a small but loyal following in their home town.

One of the last-minute additions to the group was Leon Nicholson on lead vocals. He was one of the more ambitious members and pushed the idea of getting a record deal as soon as they could. But some animosity began to brew between him and Clover. He felt that the keyboardist lacked the skills or dedication to make the group go big, for one. And in a very short amount of time, Clover had made himself known for some very unusual behavior. It was an open secret within the group that he slept around a lot. Ever since his fling with Jasmine, he had been downright obsessed with sex. Many of these newer flings involved girls that he had met after the band's shows, drawn to him by his music as well as his bold flirtations. But tiny rumors even spread that he'd slept with a man once or twice. There was nothing to back up the claims, however, and the whole subject was kept very hush-hush as Rabbit's Burrow went increasingly professional.

Nevertheless, Clover slid further and further into a certain image. Although he had obviously accepted that he was no macho man, he still felt embarrassed about his near-complete lack of body hair compared to the hot men he saw in magazines. "Wait, how old are you?" everyone from strangers to concerned sex partners had asked again and again. He leaned into his short stature and leanness. He had even kept the hideous tooth gap when some girls said it was cute. But the bare chest just wouldn't do. In a brightly-lit makeup store, he whispered some words to a cashier who pulled out a small bottle of lotion from below the counter. It was experimental, he said, and quite expensive. Just some weeks of slathering the stuff on his chest later, though, he finally saw a man in the mirror and grinned. New clothes were bought in celebration, bright button-ups, tight suits with matching bell-bottoms- only the latest styles would do. His only keyboard, the same cheap one he bought prior to living in his own place, continued to gather dust all the while.

But much to Leon's pride, the group finally got a record deal in March of 1972 and released their first single in early May. It was also around this time that he met Patricia, a concert-goer who ran a small local music newspaper. They were inseparable from the first and she was constantly by his side whether they were practicing, recording, or touring. This didn't bother the group too much. As they came to find, she was nice enough and gave Rabbit's Burrow some good press now and again with each new single they released within that year. But eventually Clover saw a certain opportunity. It would take an awful lot for Patricia to sleep with some other man, let alone an associate of Leon. Besides, she wasn't a lot to get excited about beneath those skimpy dresses and overdone makeup. It wasn't worth the risk, and yet...

Just as a diver grins at the sight of a tight, dark tunnel to the abyss, Clover couldn't help but imagine the pride- simply the pride he'd feel if he could get his hands on her. It was the perfect way to spite that stupid pretentious Leon. And so, inch by inch, he began to make his move. He knew she wasn't the kind of girl to immediately jump into a one-night stand. He had to get her on his side. It was easy enough; she was constantly there when the band was together. All he had to do was wait until Leon's back was turned. Then he talked to her a little, got to know her, put his hand on her thigh. Oh, she didn't like that. He dialed it back a little, then tried it again. A smile. Getting warmer.

From the beginning, he knew that it had to end in sex. He couldn't climb down the mountain without reaching the peak. In the summer of 1973, the band finally completed their debut album. The release, although limited due to their label's lack of faith in the material, was selling surprisingly well. A small tour was launched to promote the record, and right before one of the shows, Leon got into a quarrel with Patricia. It all began with her stating that his head was getting a little too big and he was acting colder than usual to her recently. He shot back that she had no consideration for how much stress he was under putting together a whole tour. The entire band overheard the argument, and some tried to cool the situation down. But Clover remained in silent anticipation.

After that particular concert, which was actually quite successful in contrast, he pulled Patricia aside. "I agree with what you said about Leon," He said in a low voice, "So many blokes in the music scene think they're leading the next Sgt. Pepper's. A knock-out like you should get into fashion instead." What a joke... and yet it obviously had an effect on Patricia. Next thing he knew, they were tongue-to-tongue, stumbling into a storage closet full of mic stands and speakers. With nothing but a small crack of light from the door, she pulled off her shift. Clover unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his shirt. They dived head-first into the inevitable for only a few minutes before suddenly the light widened above them and a creak sounded from behind. He didn't even have time to zip up his fly before hands clamped his neck and pulled him upward.

"You fucking asshole!" Leon screeched, "I'll kill you!"

Clover struggled helplessly in the larger man's grip, his cries reduced to choked squeaks. Patricia had crawled off into the darkness. Then the other members of the group entered, demanding to know what was going on. Leon dropped him roughly, and between gasps of air, he tried to come up with the best lie he could.

"Can't... a man... jack off in... peace...? Fuck..."

"You lying piece of shit!" Leon roared as he kicked him onto the concrete, "She was just here! Patricia!"

Then in a peach-colored blur, Patricia in nothing but a white bra smacked Leon's face in with a music stand.

Whether Clover quit the band or was kicked out depends on who you ask. But in the middle of the tour, Rabbit's Burrow unexpectedly had a new person behind the keyboards and a bandage on their lead singer's nose. Some were disappointed to see their favorite member gone. And although the rest of the tour went by smoothly, their sales slowly decreased and the band eventually fell into obscurity.

The point was, though, Clover needed a new band. Aside from that one big slip-up that was more Leon's fault than his, he had gotten comfortable with the keyboardist formula and the music scene was still full of sexy men and women desperate for a quick job with someone less conventional. A few of these had agreed to put out a good word on him, perhaps exaggerating his keyboarding skills. As a result, it wasn't long before he got connected with Todd Yancy, the new manager for Fire Magnolia. Clover was familiar with the name. The group had existed since the late '60s wherein it popularized its unique blend of prog with other genres, inspiring many bands including Rabbit's Burrow to do the same. But the group had reached a bit of a low point with decreased sales and members leaving to start solo careers. They needed some agreeable young musicians that understood the group's goals. This 21 year-old Clover character, relatively unknown as he was, seemed to fit the bill.

So on a cold February day in 1974, Todd brought the band together in his house to meet the candidate much to their American guitarist, Jesse Kinsman's, chagrin. Their old keyboardist was an extremely close friend of his- practically a brother. And now here they were going from one dull pianist to the next, not one even showing a hint of the charm or passion that their former one did. When Todd led the group to the living room, Clover was already at the piano. He looked polite and unassuming, his hair well-kept, his turtleneck and blazer plain. Todd confidently made him play a few original compositions before the group. Clover had to keep it simple and snuck in a few stolen melodies, but the group seemed impressed enough, especially when Todd told them his age. He briefly had a flashback to a performance years ago, his tiny self bowing before a group of elderly concert-goers in a giant hall. He buried the memory as fast as he could, however.

Even back then, there was something about Clover that seemed a little... off to Jesse. He turned out to be even shorter than expected when he stood from the piano bench and looked at Jesse with almost bulging eyes and a smile as he shook his hand. But he could feel the other members staring at him, already imagining their groans if he refused another replacement.

"Clover," Todd was already saying, "How soon can we get you in the studio? I'm sure Fire Magnolia would love to hear your keyboard over some of their demos. Get a feel for it, y'know?"

"I'm always available, Mr. Yancy," he responded with a playful nudge and wink.

As soon as he heard "Oh, please. Call me Todd," Jesse knew the decision was final. What he didn't know is what it would cost.

3: Fire Magnolia

For the first few weeks, everything seemed to be going well. Clover went right to work on their demos and the product was something new and unique, sure to tell the public that Fire Magnolia was still modern. Eventually, the group underwent a magazine interview where their new lineup was finally revealed and interest was sparked for their upcoming return. In celebration, Todd reserved them a table at a nearby historic restaurant but Clover himself pulled out at the last minute, citing a headache. The others went out for dinner, anyway, and after they had ordered, a man slightly older than their new keyboardist suddenly came up behind Jesse. He had short hair and modest clothes; clearly not the prog type. There was something oddly familiar about the darkness of his eyes, though...

Sure enough, he introduced himself as Clover's estranged older brother, Edison Hill, above the din of the restaurant. But with paranoid mannerisms, he warned them to keep away from "Crispin", as he began to accidentally call him. Don't let him join the group, don't fall for his tricks, he's a "psycho", and so on. Jesse's wife, Maggie, was seated next to him and both laughed the stranger off. Todd even stood up from his chair and tried to shoo him away. Soon, some employees came over and pulled him out of the restaurant for lacking a reservation and the rest of the evening seemed to go on as normal.

In his apartment, though, Clover was beginning to change and not from a headache. He tossed and turned in his bed, unable to look away from the poster of Jesse in his hands. Of all the dozens of partners he'd had, he never felt for a single one. Not romantically, anyway. They were just ants in a line. But the very minute he laid eyes on Jesse in Todd's living room, all of that changed. He was enthralled, imagining his little body in those powerful arms, golden curls between his fingers. It was too bad finding out that he was already married to their drummer. He wasn't even sure if Jesse was a drop bisexual. But that hadn't stopped Clover before. This could just be the biggest challenge of his career yet, an even bigger one than Patricia. Then again, he didn't just want to get in someone's pants again. He wanted all of Jesse to himself.

Step one was making as good of an impression as possible. Refusing to go to dinner was a part of just that; he couldn't go about ruining his thin physique now, could he? Everything had to be perfect.

In the summer of 1974, though, Fire Magnolia released their first album with their new manager and keyboardist. It quickly received the most critical acclaim they had gotten in a few years and copies went flying off of the shelves. Todd made sure that a national tour was under way; great news for the presently sex-deprived Clover Hill. From the moment they saw his photo on the back of the album, some fans were curious to see this new member for themselves. Clover was hoping to gather a bigger pool still than just the group's fanbase. But still, there was Jesse... a tour meant cramped vans, shared hotel rooms, maybe even a shared bed.

As soon as Fire Magnolia set off, he began to make his move. From the group's point of view, though, Clover simply had an unusual brand of friendliness that figured with a dress more characteristic of a pop musician than a prog one. He'd frequently stand quite close to Jesse, always wanting to chat with him, always getting excited when Jesse entered the room. More focused on his music than anything else, the guitarist assumed that Clover treated everyone that way. It was better than having a member that was aloof, right? But the more that Clover intruded on his personal space, the more uncomfortable he started to become. The tour would only make things worse. Everywhere Jesse went- going out onto the new towns, dinners with the band, practicing the sets- that pipe-drain weasel was there, his obnoxious, nasally giggle constantly in the background. He even went on to call Jesse "Jet-Jet"...

All the while, Clover was working to further curate his new public image. When the other members were busy honing their skills, he was making connections with fashion and teen magazines all over the country. His face was plastered on covers, posters, pillow cases. He even took part in a few TV interviews by himself, not part of Fire Magnolia. He was acquiring what Rabbit's Burrow failed to give him: a fanbase of his own, separate from the band's loyal following. They went to the concerts but didn't care about the music. They only had eyes for the little brightly-dressed keyboardist. Clover would frequently reciprocate, mingling with the audience when the show was over, keeping up with his fanmail, and always on the phone with some overexcited fangirl, making promises he didn't intend to keep. Single-handedly, he was changing the entire culture surrounding the once niche prog-fusion band. Todd had zero qualms about this; it was giving them more exposure and money, so what was the harm? The members, though, were less than thrilled.

This was especially true for Jesse who, after the tour's completion, would only receive more torment from Clover as they were forced in close quarters to work on their next album. Clover, who eventually used his new funds to buy a much more modern flat with a bigger-than-king size bed to boot. It barely left enough space in the bedroom for a highly advanced stereo sound and lighting system to set the mood. There was an even longer line of easy partners, but he wanted Jesse and began to double his efforts. It was at this time, however, that Jesse began to show his disgust more openly, now fully aware of what Clover was trying to do. He discussed these things quietly with Maggie and their old manager, eventually working up the courage to beg Todd to kick Clover out. But Todd wouldn't budge. They'd only had their keyboardist for a year; he was skilled, funny, charming, and the fans loved him!

Meanwhile, this game of cat and mouse would have its adverse effects on the perpetuator himself. Clover lost even more weight, struggled to sleep alone, saw himself getting uglier and uglier in the mirror no matter how many hours he spent trying to fix his face. Each time Jesse rejected him, he saw a flash of red, tasted acid on his tongue, felt his fists clench- Crispin starting to take over, stronger every time. As soon as he locked the door to his flat, all of the built-up rage would come loose; private explosions that he'd had before, but increased now in intensity and frequency. He'd scream till his throat burned, smash plates against the walls, splinter cabinets, rip papers and fur blankets, only to shiver with fear as he regretfully cleaned up the mess. In the glint of a shattered mirror, he'd see the distorted reflection of Crispin- that uncontrollable, unlovable, ugly freak. In someone's arms, he could briefly forget that Crispin and Clover were ever one in the same. He could shed that past behind, become someone new, someone perfect whom everybody adored. But solitude, and the thoughts of Jesse, tore that fantasy apart before his very eyes.

Jesse needs to pay. He thought it so much during his bouts of anger that he began to internalize it. Obviously, he didn't matter enough to Jesse to effectively hurt him. So who did?

His attempts to win over Jesse continued through the completion of their second album with him in early 1976. Then came 1977 and Jesse brought in Custer Buckley, an aging country musician that had apparently worked with the band back in 1968. Fire Magnolia was briefly distracted from Clover's antics as Custer (against their will) took almost full creative control. The album was released in December to mixed reviews, some considering the country influences to be a failed experiment in genre blending. Custer joined them on a brief tour before quietly returning to his own career as a solo musician.

It was during the 1978 recording sessions for the band's return to normalcy that Clover began looking elsewhere- at Maggie. Despite the band's country hiccup, he was still more popular than ever. He predicted the fashion trends of the late '70s and strove to have button-ups even tighter than the rest of them, more rhinestones, more jewelry, more white. He was in a mood, for once, that nobody could possibly refuse him. So just as he did with Jesse, he began making subtle moves towards his wife. In just a few short weeks, he pulled her aside and asked her head-on.

"Jesse's great and all, but have you ever thought about taking on a man your own size? Don't worry, Magpie. Your secret is safe with me."

Little did Clover know, Maggie was already familiar with his tricks. She already knew that he was trying to use her in some gross scheme to get to Jesse. In the moment, though, his forwardness shocked her so much that she could only muster a face of disgust, storming off with "Fucking pervert..." under her breath. She should've done something more. She should've made him sorry for even looking at her. But justice wouldn't come long after she revealed the situation to the band's former manager. While Clover was alone in the studio the next day, recording some basic keyboard tracks on, ironically, a song penned by Jesse, a large man suddenly burst in and threw him against the wall. Clover knew immediately that he couldn't stand a chance and resorted to pleading. But the manager wouldn't stop barraging his bloodied face until Jesse pulled him away.

At first, Clover felt an immense happiness that almost distracted from the pain all over. Jesse saved him! Surely this meant he was coming around. Surely, overcome by pity, he'd take Clover in his big arms at last. But Jesse hardly even looked at him.

"Look, Ray. We don't need you going to jail for murder, of all things..." He was saying, clearly finding a bit of humor in the situation, before pointing at Ray's bloodied knuckles and shirt. "Let's go get you cleaned up, alright?"

And despite Clover's desperate pleading for Jesse to return, they walked off shoulder-to-shoulder, closing the door on the one who had actually suffered. He struggled to his feet, staring down at his ruined white jumpsuit on which blood still dripped from his chin. For a mere minute, he was in a daze, barely processing that he had taken his fallen keyboard and readjusted its spot on the stand, pulling the bench back up to it, too. Only then did Crispin awake, and with a scream of rage, he kicked the stand and keyboard back onto the floor.

Clover would return to the studio a two weeks later, his nose looking slightly thinner and straighter than it had before. Ray had broken it during the attack, and it seemed like a good excuse to go ahead and fix the entire thing- ugly bump that he'd always been insecure about and all. His days of chasing Jesse and Maggie were over, though. Maggie would later be informed of what had happened, and from then on only she, Ray, Jesse, and Clover himself knew about it. But Clover's music had a decline in quality noticeable to everyone. He no longer had the motivation of pleasing Jesse with his work. In fact, just the thought of the guitarist made his blood boil. Yet there was still a tiny part of him that clung desperately on and he did everything he could to distract himself- more photoshoots, more clothes, and obviously more sex. He began to take bigger and bigger risks, purposefully seeking out the glint of a wedding ring on someone's finger, as if to recreate what he could've had with Jesse. But it was never the same. The only thing he didn't do was drugs or alcohol as he was too health-conscious (at least in that area of his health) and liked to see himself as above addicts. He was perfectly normal in the head and would proudly, if a bit furiously deep down, refute anyone who said otherwise.

The only slight consolation came from the news that his mother had passed away of a sudden early onset brain aneurysm. Good riddance. Fire Magnolia's fourth album with Clover was released shortly after in October of 1978. A successful tour carried through the winter. It was shortly thereafter that Fire Magnolia began to plan their biggest project yet: a concept double-album with more theatrics, effects, and accompaniments than they'd ever had before. Clover wasn't exactly sold on the idea; in fact, he struggled to keep up with the demands of the group, his style suddenly "too simple" and lack of practice coming back to bite him. On the outside, though, public opinion of Clover was more positive than ever. He was considered one of the leading fashion icons in England, an effortless, 26 year-old star. But an adoring audience can only last so long. Someone had their eyes set on Clover, someone that he had long forgotten. And they wanted revenge.

4: The Higher They Fly

After Clover was evicted from Rabbit's Burrow, the group spun its wheels for a short while, bringing in a studio keyboardist to play on their second album that was released to little fanfare, playing a couple of gigs, and falling quickly into obscurity. Patricia had tried to reach out to Clover a few times but got no response. She tentatively stayed at Leon's side and his hold on her grew tighter by the minute. Saying that their relationship was strained would be an understatement. While Patricia continued to work for peanuts at a handful of music publications after her own publication dissolved, Leon splurged a massive amount of his band's profits on harder and harder drugs. The two shared a run-down apartment that constantly smelled like smoke unfit for an adult let alone a child. But in 1977, Patricia found that she was pregnant too late to prevent the birth of a son. Throughout their ordeal, Leon would constantly throw fits about Clover, how it was all his fault, and even brought home magazines about him in order to tear them to shreds. Seeing the photos made Patricia's heart ache, but even she began to believe Leon's logic. After all, Clover used her, hadn't he? It was even more obvious from his new look: he was nothing more than a sex pest. A tramp.

Not least because of her own demands, though, Leon began to improve himself little by little throughout 1977 and 1978. He did drugs less and less, and was able to think more clearly as a result. With this, a plan began to form in his mind. Naturally, when he wasn't high on acid or weed, he was high on hating Clover. He had to make him pay for what he had done all those years ago in the equipment closet, he had to get that weasel where it hurt.

In exchange for watching over the child, Leon sent Patricia off to dig up whatever she could on Clover. She had far more skill in such things than the magazines had given her credit for and was almost as fueled by a desire for revenge as Leon was. Not to mention that Clover was rich. He had collected a myriad of other silent enemies over the years, and as such, it wasn't long before she struck gold. She began to compile testimonies, letters, photographs, and even tapped phone calls that painted Clover as a manipulator, a homewrecker, a plagiarist, and worst of all (at that time) bisexual. She had even obtained hidden camera footage of Clover in bed with the wife of a very well-known record producer. It wasn't so much the facts themselves that surprised her as it was the extent of his crimes. But there was still a tiny part of her that clung to the shorter-haired young man she once knew, the only man who had ever complimented her, the last positive sex experience she could remember. It was with extreme hesitation that she shared the archive with Leon. But within just an hour of receiving it, Leon put in a call to Fire Magnolia's publicity, who soon put him in contact with Todd Yancy, who then passed the phone over to Clover Hill with a pale look on his face. The band was in the middle of recording material for their concept album. Even Clover spared little time for nosy fans. But as soon as he heard Leon Nicholson and Rabbit's Burrow, finally putting two and two together, his blood went cold.

"Fifty-thousand pounds," said the gruff voice, "Or else I'll give Patricia the green light to send it to every goddamn magazine in England. Your ass will be target practice."

"Alright, good bluff," Clover giggled, trying to hide his increasing fear, sweating under the curious glances of his bandmates. He closed in on the phone. "Look, love, you don't need to do all this to get my attention, okay? We can meet at a restaurant somewhere, catch up on old times."

"I didn't go through all this trouble to call you so we could catch up. I didn't gather evidence on you so we could catch up-"

"Forged evidence."

"Patricia has your kid," Leon blurted out, "How's that for evidence?" He knew there was no way he could prove it. The baby was conceived long after Clover was kicked from the band. But he was getting desperate. Meanwhile, Clover went silent. Aside from the occasional surge of passion, he always took extra measures to avoid an STD or worse. Besides, he hadn't even been in Patricia long enough to finish. Or had he? All the partners he was with during Rabbit's Burrow were blurring together now. They could've had sex for two minutes or two hours. After a hurried and vague promise to call Leon back later, he hung up the phone. When they tried to get back to recording, the other members could tell something was up. Clover couldn't focus on the chords, and eventually had to excuse himself from the studio early.

Over the next few days, Clover would begin pawning things. Books, furniture, receiver sets, clothing. He sent fractions of the payment to Leon little by little, hoping that eventually the former singer would say enough and leave him alone. But Leon was determined to make Clover suffer as much as possible. He couldn't even ask Fire Magnolia for help, as it would surely require him to explain the entire Patricia situation and the contents that Leon was threatening to reveal (not that Jesse and Maggie thought very highly of him to begin with). He was completely on his own and the tension was suffocating. Every time he entered his increasingly bare house, he fell into another screaming fit. He no longer had time for the sex that would usually tranquilize him. He even lashed out a handful of times in public- at a nosy child in a department store, at a group of gossiping old women, at a poor random dog on the street. It was clear that his new self was losing more and more control over the old one. Everything he had worked so hard to build up was rapidly slipping from his fingers.

Meanwhile, Leon was growing impatient. Even if Clover ended up giving the full fifty-thousand, which he had barely managed to squander half of by now, it would feel anticlimactic. He needed Clover to lose something far more dear to him. Patricia, on the other hand, was beginning to have second thoughts. Were the thousands they received not enough? Couldn't they just call it off? She had wanted to use her journalism skills to lift up unknown musicians, not bring them down. And as horribly as Clover had betrayed her, she couldn't help but feel a smidgen more sympathy for him in particular. They had made love once, pure and simple. Perhaps that was enough to bind their souls together. She couldn't think of any other explanation for her sudden and constant migraines. When it finally became too much for her, she sat Leon up in their shared bed, the boxes full of cash underneath. "Leon, we can't do this anymore," she whispered, but he wouldn't listen. In fact, it further encouraged him to take something more than just money. Patricia was right... in a way.

In-between Clover's unexplained episodes of extreme paranoia, Fire Magnolia was struggling to create their highly ambitious concept album. Nothing was coming together. Everything they made somehow sounded cheaper than even the Custer Buckley album. Nevertheless, they tried to keep their fanbase at bay with a few spotty singles and press interviews. At one late interview in London, the journalist noted that their keyboardist seemed fidgety. He still wore a matching white two-piece with a copious amount of sparkling rhinestones, buttoned low to reveal his dark chest hair and faint ribs. But he barely spoke and kept staring past the journalist at nothing. The other members took over most of the conversation, talking about their concept album, giving small glimpses of the narrative and what instruments and styles they planned to bring in. Little did they know, it was to be their final interview with Clover Hill.

Upon exiting the building, they were rushed by the usual small crowd who had heard rumors of them going in for an interview. It was already dark and they were in a rush to get home. But one tall young man with long, unkept hair hotly pursued Clover, grabbing him by the upper arm. The keyboardist had played this game with fans before and let out a disarming laugh as he tried to gently push the man away. But under the dim street light, he suddenly recognized the grimacing face that had haunted his dreams the past month and a half.

The other members turned around, their faces tired and confused. Clover was struggling more now but the man held on with one hand, some sort of bucket in his other hand. "I can't keep on waiting, Crispin," he hissed, "Where's my money?" As he groped desperately for a response, distracted by the use of his real name, Clover felt something wet pour over him. It smelled too sour to be water. Leon let him go and he stumbled, bringing his hands to his dripping hair.

"Agh God, what did you-" Before Clover could finish, there was a familiar spark of a lighter in Leon's hand. It all happened in a matter of seconds. One moment he was standing there, dark-haired, his rhinestones a faint glint. The next he was engulfed in blinding flames and joined by a long, blood-curdling scream.

The band rushed forward, grabbing their jackets, suitcases, purses, whatever they could to smack Clover down, even if it risked getting burned themselves. A few brave fans joined the fray as well. Jesse was in luck; he had already removed a thick fringed leather jacket and was holding it under his arm when the attack happened. But it felt like an agonizingly long time before the flames began to die down. By then, Clover's hair was badly singed, his two-piece was charred beyond repair, and his face nobody dared to check on. During the struggle, his strained screams had fallen to barely-audible whimpers and then to nothing at all. They began to fear the worst. Even Jesse, who did not need a dead keyboardist on his conscience, began to worriedly pace along the curb. When the ambulance pulled in, however, they could only watch the blacked-out man get taken away.

One of the journalists from the magazine was able to rush out of the building and record some of the events following Clover's initial scream. It was broadcast on the news shortly after, and when Leon returned to his apartment the next day, Patricia immediately called the police to arrest him. Her boyfriend had gone too far and she couldn't stand his abuse any longer. He had nearly killed a man.

As for Clover, though, he had survived but just barely. The doctors estimated it would take several weeks for him to be fully conscious again, let alone recover enough to continue working with Fire Magnolia. He had received third degree burns across his body, particularly severe on his scalp and face, and the pain was constant as if he were being set on fire all over again each time he briefly awoke. The blow hit Todd Yancy especially hard. Already frustrated with the band's lack of progress on their concept album and his own mental health issues behind the scenes, he announced in the studio a few days later that he was resigning. The band would have to find a new manager just as they had to find a keyboardist to replace Clover for a few days. And exhausted as they were, they decided to simply go on hiatus instead.

Patricia had no plans to release the evidence that she had found. She only wanted to take a small portion of the money and create a better life for her and her son. But with Clover in the news again, a few faces began to come out of the woodwork- lovers, siblings, former fans, even people that Patricia had already received testimonies from- to tell the truth to a number of music magazines. They wanted to reveal the real Clover, or Crispin, rather, to the world. So what if the timing was a little unfortunate? Giving your real experience and impression of the once oh-so-innocent celebrity became something of a craze. Even Jesse, hesitant as he was from having witnessed the attack firsthand, went on record about Clover's creepiness towards him and the group's fans. Magazines were full of titles like "Clover Unmasked" and "Not So Sweet: The Dark Secrets of Clover Hill". All in all, the keyboard had managed to keep Leon quiet at a high cost but it was all for naught. Just after his body was set aflame, his career was rapidly burning to the ground, too.

In the meantime, the group finally settled on a temporary replacement for Clover, becoming less and less sure of even letting him in the band again when he did recover given his reputation. This new keyboardist, slightly older than Clover and having lots of experience as a session musician, kicked the band's previous work out of the water. The other members had become so used to Clover's style that they had almost forgotten what actually good keys sounded like, let alone modern ones. But the question of a manager still remained. Without a manager, they couldn't release singles, set tour dates, or finish their concept album. The name of a certain Ray Richards kept being passed around... but surely he would be too busy now with his new band, right?

When Clover finally recovered enough to speak, eat, and eventually walk, there was no big fanfare. No celebrations in the media. Only the slowed trickle of inflammatory pieces on the keyboardist, completely unaware of whose eyes were on them. For when the band finally got together to visit Clover a month after the attack (mainly out of obligation and guilt), what they found was an empty room and a nurse saying that they had just missed him. He had insisted on leaving that morning, obviously in a crazed state. He hadn't even finished treatment yet; his burns needed constant care still. But when he began to accuse them of imprisoning him and became increasingly violent with his demands, they finally had to relent. They had other patients to work on.

Disturbed, the band hurried to Clover's apartment. Outside everything seemed normal, but when they opened the unlocked front door, the place was in ruin. Cabinets were smashed in, furniture was overturned, pictures and fabrics were ripped to shreds, mirrors and frames were shattered. Once again, Clover himself was nowhere to be seen. When the news about his disappearance came out, many suspected that his house was vandalized; his temper was one of the harder-to-believe accusations of the last month. But the band themselves knew better. This was Clover's final bow to the world. Beyond a few unconfirmed reports throughout the '80s, Clover would never be seen again for better or for worse.

Years came and went, and Clover Hill was mostly forgotten by the world. The internet age brought a slight resurgence as a cult following circled some archived photos of the musician. But sooner or later, fans would uncover some of the less-savory details of his life and spread them around. He continues to have a complicated reputation to this day, the good and bad of his impact upon the progressive rock genre debated. But love him or hate him, one question is universal: what happened to him after he disappeared? Is he still alive? Maybe, but a 5'1 burn victim shouldn't be hard to find. Could he have gone underground, living off canned soup in a basement somewhere, or did he simply put on a more literal mask to hide his scars? Nobody will ever know. And just as well, those who knew him best- his siblings, Fire Magnolia, Jesse Kinsman- would prefer not to know.