The Knife That Twists Within ----------------------------
Part 6
"Bastian, go home, I'll look after this by myself." He ruffled Nicholas' hair. "Take Nicholas with you."
"To my home? Or yours?" Sebastian's voice sounded irritated.
"I want to stay with you, Marcus."
"Come on, baby, go with him. There's no need for you to remain here. It's not exactly pleasant."
The Police Officer tried to hide his annoyance. Obviously he'd got into a party of queers.
"If you finally have sorted out your problems, I would like to ask you some questions, Sir."
Three pairs of eyes stared at the Officer until Marcus turned and gave Nicholas a quick smile. Then he walked across to the waiting man and dissapeared with him in the adjoining small room.
Sebastian's silence slowly got depressing. Unspeaking he unlocked the door to Marcus' house and let Nicholas slip in. In the hall he stood and asked "Tired? Do you want to go straight to bed again?"
Nicholas shook his head. "No, I couldn't sleep anyway."
Sebastian sighed. He still had his scorched jacket with him which he threw over a chair.
"Come, talk to me, Sebastian. What do you think about it?"
Sebastian didn't answer. Instead he went into the living room and poured himself a glass of whisky. He drank slowly. "I have no clues about it," he said then quietly. "I think it must have been an accident, don't you think so?" He looked at the young man standing in the doorway, undecided whether to enter or not. "There was this heating plate. Maybe it had a defect in the wires or something."
He sat down in one of the lilac coloured armchairs. "What else could it be?"
"Yeah," Nicholas sighed and sat in another chair. "Do you think Marcus will be home soon?"
"How should I know, my heart?" He took another gulp. "Want some coffee or something?"
Nicholas nodded, rose and went into the kitchen. Sebastian followed him. "This Kay," he began hesitantly, "do you know him well?"
Nicholas' lips twisted into a little grin. "You like him?"
"I asked first."
Nicholas put some coffee into a mug and waited for the water to heat up. "Ok, no I don't know him all that well. We've met only ... three times, four times including today. He's helping me to look for Simon."
"Huh? Simon?"
"Yes, Simon. I gave him a photo I've made from the painting and he displayed it at the "Moonbreaker"."
Sebastian nooded and watched Nicholas pouring the boiling water into the pot.
"You fancy him?" Nicholas asked while he stirred the coffee.
"Me? Well..."
"Ah, come on, he's probably as 'hot' as you said Simon was."
Sebastian had to laugh. "Yeah, probably. He even remembers me at him, some of his gestures, the way he talks..." He approached Nicholas and murmured, "Where's your painting of Marcus? You must have finished it, right?"
"How do you know?" Nicholas asked surprised but didn't really wait for an answer. "It's upstairs in the bedroom to scare the housekeeper."
"To scare the housekeeper?" Sebastian laughed. "I don't think that anything could make Anna scared or feel faint! Has she said something?"
"No. Only that she liked the painting!"
"Did she?" Sebastian raised his eyebrows. Then he grabbed Nicholas' hand and dragged him with him upstairs.
There Sebastian lifted a tiny pair of white underpants lying on one of the chairs and said grinning, "So good old Marcus went without his pants!" He turned.
"I only hope the call didn't disturb something."
Nicholas blushed a bit. "No." He pointed to Marcus' portrait. "There it is."
"Ah, right beside Simon and what's that? Paul's mask! You loved it, didn't you?"
Sebastian stepped closer to inspect the picture. "Really good," he muttered. "It's been a long time ago since I saw him this way." Nicholas drank nervously from his coffee.
"Did he say when he's leaving for New York?"
"No, we didn't talk about it."
Sebastian stepped closer to him. "And what you are planning on doing, all alone in the house? Some wild parties with your friends?"
"What are you talking about? I don't know even if I'm going to stay here, I don't like the idea of being alone with Anna. Moreover I must go to the academy to register for the new semester. And I'll be seeing Matthias. So you see, I've got a lot to do."
"Matthias, your friend? The one I saw standing with Kay?"
"Yes."
Sebastian looked at his watch. It was 4:40 in the morning and he felt suddenly very tired. He began to unbutton his shirt, pulling it out of his black trousers. Nicholas watched uneasily. He finished taking off his shirt, and swung it over his shoulder.
Nicholas gaze went to the painting of Sebastian and found he hadn't changed at all since then. There was still the same fuzz of blond hair on his chest and Nicholas would have liked to run his fingers through it, the smooth skin on his shoulders, along the arms and around his waist. Sebastian stepped even closer and whispered into his ear, "I'm tired. Is the guest room still ready as always?"
Nicholas couldn't scarcely speak but managed to whisper "Yes".
"Ok," he stepped out of the door, "if something happens wake me, won't you?"
Nicholas nodded. He began to undress himself and crept into the bed. There was still the scent of Marcus on the sheets and the pillows, so he snuggled deep under the blankets and fell asleep.
Rudolf Zellner sat at the kitchen table and bit into his morning roll. It was a bright sunny day; the sunbeams crept over the plastic table cloth, decorated with little flowers, and lit up his face. He tried to read the morning paper but his eyesight was getting weaker these days. "I'm going now. Shall I bring back something special?" Nicholas' mother shouted from the tiny corridor outside. "Nothing special, dear. Get what you like." "All right then. Bye, and go to bed soon." Vera slipped into her coat and went off to her daily work at the supermarket where she worked as a cashier. Rudolf nodded and tried to suppress a jawn. He had been home only a few minutes after the night shift. He poured another cup of tea and leafed through the pages. His gaze got stuck at a report about the opening of an exhibition held by Marcus Weidenbruch. There were several pictures which showed the Senator for Culture standing with a glass in his hand and apparently listening to explanations. Suddenly Rudolf recognised his son, standing awkwardly in front of a painting which showed the smiling face of a young blond man. Rudolf stood up and searched for his glasses. Back at the table he read the section once more. "Marcus Weidenbruch, rich Art promoter, dealer of Art and one of the most famous men in town, yesterday evening opened his exhibition for unknown young Artists. Edgar Fischer, Senator for Culture, made a short visit to emphasise the importance of supporting young Artists in town. Right picture: his newest discovery, Nicholas Zellner, standing in front of one of his paintings, which were a great success. Below: N. Zellner together with M. Weidenbruch. Rumours are reporting that the young man is Weidenbruch's, known as being homosexual, newest boy friend." A drop of marmalade dropped from his roll. Rudolf read the section a third time. There was no mistake. Hastily he licked the sticky marmalade from his fingers. What did they mean with 'newest boy friend'? Did they mean to infer that his son Nicholas was gay, too? Rudolf let the newspaper drop on the table and stared out of the window. This couldn't be true. What rubbish these journalists sometimes wrote! He leaned back in his chair. Well, Vera had told him that Nicholas was friendly with this fairy Weidenbruch and he didn't like the thought. But if the boy loves his daubing that much, so be it. Rudolf sighed loudly. But if he ever laid his dirty hands on his son ... Rudolf's hands began to quiver ... he didn't know what he would do then. Vera hadn't told much about the exhibition yesterday, but it seemed she was certainly hiding something. She must know - if this was true - that their Nicholas was the object of Weidenbruch's filthy desire... Pray Heaven that it wasn't true! Rudolf stood up, intending to have a word with his wife if she came back in the early afternoon. With a heavy tread, he crossed the kitchen straight to the bedroom and closed the door behind him. Nicholas wasn't sure what his mother wanted to talk about. He had called her early that morning, shortly after Marcus' return. Marcus had explained that the cause of the fire was almost certainly the defective water kettle. Nicholas had never seen such an appliance in the room, but that didn't seem important. Marcus had called all young men and women whose paintings had been destroyed and had promised them compensation, although he knew very well that there wasn't any really adequate 'compensation' for a destroyed object of Art. But is was all he could do. Sebastian was vanished to his own flat and Nicholas' mother wanted to discuss something with him in private. He knew that Anna Weyler would soon show up so he had suggested a meeting in a cafe, his mother know. He thought it a bit odd that she wasn't at work but she had said, she had taken a day off. At the cafe she looked him now up and down and then said quietly, "Why didn't you tell me that you are living at Mr. Weidenbruch's house?" Without waiting for an answer she continued, "I watched you yesterday intently. Not only are you looking good - all theses new and apparently expensive clothes - but you seem to be happy. Are you?" Nicholas sighed deeply. "There was a fire last night in the exhibition hall. Luckily we had taken away all the pieces that had been sold, so the damage was limit." "A fire?" his mother asked startled. "Anybody hurt?" "No. The police told us it was a defect water kettle." "And your paintings?" "They are safe, except one." His face lit up. "They are all sold, mum! Imagine that! At astronomical prices!" "Really?" His mother smiled. "Why don't you tell us everything, darling? Is it ... is it because you'e living with Mr. Weidenbruch?" His gaze was suddenly angry. "How do you know?" Vera frowned. "I had an 'encounter' with your housekeeper, I've forgotten her name." "Anna!" Nicholas laughed unhappily. "I should have known. This old chatterbox! And? What did she tell you?" His gaze was suddenly cool. Vera put a spoonful of sugar into her tea and stirred it slowly. "She told me that he's very much in love with you." "Ah! And you're thinking now that I'm a little faggot and get paid for the service!" Vera gasped. "Nicholas! What's the matter with you? You've never spoke like this before." "No?" He looked around to see if anyone was listening. "I'm sorry, mum. But... Have you never noticed that I never had a girlfriend? You've never said anything about it." "But yes, darling, of course I've noticed. But I always thought it's your business and after all, you are so young..." "Pah, so young! I'm 20!" "So it is true, yes?" Nicholas nodded. "And he pays for you? Do you still work in the shopping centre?" "No. I'm ging to start at the academy of Arts again." "Yes, the housekeeper told me." "She doesn't miss a thing, does she?' Nicholas didn't expect an answer. "What will your father say to this?" Vera asked after a while. Then she looked intently into her son's eyes. "That you are homosexual is one thing, Nicholas. But it's dangerous. Is this Marcus... is he healthy? You know what I mean." "Yes, he's healthy, I can take care of myself, don't worry about that, mum." Vera shook her head a little. "It's .... I have to get used to it." She looked up. "You are our only son and I have to come to terms with the fact that there will be no grandchildren? Nor a daughter-in-law? Never?" "Never." He took her hand and stroked it gently. "But that's not the end of the world, mum. Is it?" He grinned. "Instead you'll have a son-in-law!" Vera had to laugh. "A son-in-law! Well, you may be able to twist me around your little finger but your father.... I mean Marcus is a very likeable man, polite and charming, but I doubt that this will impress your father." "And he's rich!" "Yeah, he's rich, too. Another reason for father's suspicion. You know what he thinks about rich people." "Ah, so Marcus should give away all his money to the poor and live under the bridges just because my father hates rich people! He knows nothing about him." With an optimism he didn't quite feel, he added, "Anyway, perhaps he will take it better than you think. Will you tell him?" "I think you should do this by yourself, darling." "Hm." Nicholas sighed heavily. "But not yet." He looked at his mother. "Do you want to come with me to Marcus house?" He looked at his watch. "Anna will have gone by now and perhaps Marcus is back already. Will you?" Vera shook his head. "First I must think about it ... another time, perhaps?" "Ok. Another time."Sebastian was so confused by the arrays of displayed clothes, bags, perfumes, soaps and scarves that he had to go three times round before he found the entrance to the long tunnel leading from the Galeries Lafayette into the Quarter 205. He walked along the black-white marble tiles and found the shop windows with the lable of Donna Karan. Then he saw the steps leading up to the second gallery and went slowly upstairs. As he looked through the window he saw Kay standing at the counter, sorting pocket handkerchiefs and looked a little bored.
"Nothing happening here, eh?" he said as he entered the room. Kay looked up and beamed. "Hey Sebastian, I didn't expect you so soon."
"Soon?" Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "It's surely just before closing time."
"Yeah, I meant to say I didn't expect you today."
Sebastian grinned. "I couldn't wait to see you again! That's all."
He stared into the young lad's face. "How was your night?" he asked.
"Lonely."
"Ah! Lonely. Well, I had company."
"Did you?" Kay felt a little stab of jelousy.
"Yes, Nick," said Sebastian keeping a straight face.
"Nick?" Kay said astonished.
Sebastian looked at his watch. "You should close now. It's 7:30. No one else will come. Where do you want to go?"
"I thought, Nick was Marcus' own. Or do you both fuck him alternately?"
"Stupid. I had to play baby-sitter. A fire broke out in the exhibition hall in the middle of the night. Didn't you hear about it?"
"No! God, what's with Nick's paintings?"
"All safe, don't worry. But some of the others are destroyed and the busts
and bronze sculptures."
"Shit. That's a shame. Was it an accident?"
"The police experts said yes. What else could it be? Maybe a defective wire or something."
He watched Kay as he put on his short leather jacket, grabbed a motorcycle helmet and unlocked the door from the outside.
"I suppose you've got your car?" Kay asked. "My motorcycle is in the parking garage."
"You're a motorcycle freak? Well, I used to have one too in my wild years."
Kay laughed as they went downstairs, "That's long time ago, eh? At least 20 years!" he teased. "Hey why don't you leave your car in the car park and come with me? There's a free place behind my back."
"In these clothes? I'd freeze my ass off!"
"Oh come on, you wimp! It's got to be fun! It isn't that far away."
"Where to? To your home?"
Kay grinned. "Where else do you think?"
Sebastian thought a moment and decided he liked the idea.
Kay was a breakneck driver and more than once Sebastian had to close his eyes as they swerved dangerously near to other cars, but Kay weaved skilfully through the traffic so it wasn't long indeed until they reached the freshly built block of flats in the Museumsinsel Quarter. Sebastian got off stretching and rubbing his cold face. "One minute more and I'd have turned into a block of ice!"
Kay laughed and pointed to the whitewashed building. "My flat is up there, last floor. There's a breathtaking view."
Sebastian looked up and nodded. "I can imagine."
"Wow!" exclaimed Sebastian as he walked over to the window, "You're right. It is indeed breathtaking!" He looked over the river, squeezed between the banks, where a stone bridge decorated with two obelisks crossed to the classic building of the National Gallery and a pergola led the way into the huge concourse. The streetlamps bathed the scene in a soft, yellow light.
Then he turned to look around. The living room was filled with modern glass and steel furniture but in spite of this still seemed comfortably cosy.
Kay came in with two wine glasses and a plate full of cold meat sandwiches.
"You must earn a lot to be able to afford such a flat."
Kay grinned. "I've rich parents. Hungry?"
Sebastian's eyes sparkled. "Hungry for you." He took the glasses from Kay's hand, drained the contents of one and put it back on the low glass table. Then he stepped to Kay, and began to unbutton his jeans. He whispered, "You are a bit overdressed, sweetie."
Kay felt completely taken over, but he liked it. It was a long time ago since a man had made him so crazy that he forgot all those arts of seduction he was very proud of and just obeyed the desires of a stranger.
He found himself in the bedroom, Sebastian kissing and licking every inch of his body and he enjoyed it. Sebastian was wild and tender at the same time and when Kay thought it was over, Sebastian began a new game, which was almost more than Kay could bear, until he laid sweating and panting but happy in Sebastian's arms, his eyes wide open.
"Still hungry?" he heard his sultry voice.
"Completely satisfied, baby." Kay said huskily. "For now."
Sebastian chuckled but found he had to try to dismiss the image of Nicholas' face which kept appearing in front of his inner eye. But then he got up and asked, "Where's the bathroom, sweetie? Want to share it with me?"
Later they dived into the food and searched in Kay's fridge for other things to eat. Sebastian wore Kay's robe and went into the bedroom again to pull on his clothes.
In the corner of the room stood a computer and the table was filled with boxes of letters, cards and notes. Interested Sebastian stepped closer and inspected the mess. There were several disks and small books and a handwritten sheet of paper, apparently a letter. Curious he took it and read the signature. Simon.
Sebastian looked more closely.
"... need more money. My credit card is stolen and I'm completely broke, I want you to help me, cannot stand it any longer. Found a pad where I can live but when I don't pay they will throw me out. The address is Kopernikus- str. 34a, second yard, left. Ring Hoffmann. Love, Simon"
"What are you doing? I thought you'd stay the night with me?" he heard Kay behind him. Quickly he dropped the letter and turned. Almost without thinking he said, "What's this game you're playing? If this is a letter from the Simon I know, then tell me what's going on."
Kay stood dumbfounded for a moment, then he shouted "What are you doing with my stuff?"
"Why do you leave it lying around?" Sebastian answered. "Calm down," he said then more quietly. "Please explain it to me. Do you know Simon? I know you have been told the story. You know that Nick is looking for him. Is it the same Simon?"
Kay sighed barely audible and stepped closer. "Yes." His head dropped. "He's my brother."
It was one of the rare moments that Sebastian was lost for words.
"What?"
"Marcus never mentioned that Simon had a brother?" Kay asked.
Sebastian rummaged in his mind. He sat down at the chair in front of the computer and again picket up the letter. "Yes, I believe he did mentioned it, but it's so long ago. He never met him. But I certainly can't remember his name was Kay."
He looked closely at the young man, standing a bit embarrassed beside the dishevelled bed, looking down at his naked feet.
"Come here to me," Sebastian said finally. He motioned him to sit on his lap. Kay did what he wanted and buried his face into Sebastian's hair.
His voice was a bit muffled but Sebastian could make out the words. "I'm sorry about this. At first I hated Marcus because he was the cause of Simon's trouble ... I thought. After all, he drove him into the arms of other men, he was so bored all the time..."
"Ah, and because he was bored he had to fuck around!"
"No, it's..." Kay looked into Sebastian's grey-green eyes. They sparkled with with scarcely suppressed anger. "Ok. Yes, eventually I came to the same conclusion. It wasn't Marcus fault. Everybody is responsible for his own life. But you know Simon, too. He was so young and didn't care about himself."
"Yes," Sebastian said bitter, "and he didn't care about Marcus. He recklessly slept with Marcus again, not caring if he could have infected him or not, right?"
"Right", Kay said quietly.
"Great. Now, what's your real name? I suppose Kay is a nickname ... for what?"
"Kristian."
"Kristian." Sebastian nodded. "Yeah, this was the name... Anyway, why did you change your mind? Why didn't you tell Nick that you are Simon's brother?"
"I don't know anymore. It was only a game I wanted to play."
"A game. Well, I don't understand this, but anyway tell me what's happened. Did you go to the - ", he looked at the letter, " - Kopernikusstrasse?"
"Yes. But it was too late. Simon had gone and nobody knew where. I've searched in all clubs he used to go to but nobody had seen him. It is as if he's vanished like a dream. And then this Nick came and brought me his picture and I saw a hope, but so far I've had no reaction. It's frustrating."
Sebastian stroked his hair soothingly.
Kay went on, "He said he had no money, so what he's doing now? And he's infected, and if I know my brother that's another reason for him to lead a wild life. He'd feel he has nothing more to lose."
Sebastian didn't know what to say. It was unbelievable. But certainly he knew now where those gestures of Kay's that he'd found so familiar had come from.
"Now," he grinned a half grin, "what shall I call you? Kay or Kristian?"
Kay looked up and smiled. "Kay of course. I'm used to it now."
"And your parents pay for all this, I see now", Sebastian said, gesturing rounf at the flat. "And what are your plans now? I don't think it's a good idea to hide your identity from Marcus and Nick, do you?"
Kay shook his head.
"Ok. I guess it's easier for two of us to search for your brother. I'm sure we will find him somewhere."
"You aren't cross with me?"
If Sebastian ever had such a feeling it was gone by now. He had found a completely unexpected side to the young man, a vulnerable and soft side.
Suddenly he thought of Nicholas and realised how much he would have given if the lad sitting in his lap had been Nicki. But as Kay had so rightly said, Nick was Marcus' own and he - Sebastian - would never willingly take away someone Marcus truly cared for.
He sighed.
"Shall I stay with you?"
"Yes, please."
"Good. We have to make plans."
"Plans?" Kay was already grinning. "You don't know MY plans for you!"
"Huh?"
Without a word Kay stood up and pulled Sebastian out of his chair and onto the bed. "These plans..." Kay whispered. He pulled Sebastian's pullover up his belly and kissed the naked skin. "You are certainly overdressed, sweetie!"
"Why didn't you tell me that you are leaving so soon for New York?" Nicholas asked as they sat in front of the TV and watched the local news. The newscaster was reporting at that moment the fire in Marcus exhibition hall. There was a statement ftom Senator Fischer and from Marcus himself. "You look good on TV!" Nicholas said. Marcus snorted and pressed Nicholas' body closer to his. "But I did tell you that I have to fly to New York!" "Yes, but you didn't tell me WHEN!" "Come on, baby, you've got a weak memory! Don't you remember my appointments schedule? I'm a busy man. Where do you think all this comes from?" He made a movement that included the interior of the room, the scarlet-upholstered chairs with their low legs and high backs clustered around a heavy, square table, the cupboards with precious carvings, the chests and sideboards, the tapestries on the opposite wall beside the fireplace decorated with naked male Caryatids. Nicholas inspected the figure of the jackal-headed Egyptian god Anubis sitting upon it and next to him the flat bronze bowl which came from Pompeii. It was a strange mixture but somehow everything seemed to fit so well together. His look was struck by a 'voliere' - an artistic cage made of brass which stood in front of the large window. Stretched around the bars was a tracery made of copper-wires. It stood upon a graceful flower-painted sideboard. Nick loved it and he could easily imagine little birds twittering inside it. And he knew that in Marcus' cellar was a vast collection of Wedgewood-cameos and watches, bracelets, combs and rings. "I thought it all came from your parents" he said finally. "Some of it certainly but I have to do my share as well. I can't sit here the whole day and count the flies on the wall! By the way, what's the problem? You'll be coming with me of course!" "No, I don't come with you!" Marcus shifted his position on the couch and looked at the young man. "Why not?" "Because I hate flying. I get sick if I fly. And anyway new term at the Academy starts next week. I can't miss it escpecially not at the start. Surely you can understand this?" "Oh." Marcus thought a moment. "So you will be stay here alone? Well, it isn't that long, only a week at the most." "A whole week?" Nicholas exclaimed dramatically. "But how shall I survive it?" Then he grinned. "Only a joke. I'll certainly not die." He paused a moment. "But how often do you have to fly around the world?" "Often." "Hm. And every time you'll leave me alone here? So now it's me who will have to count the flies on the wall?" "Come on, don't be so stupid. You lived alone before you met me." "But it's different now. I want to live with you and not with your... picture hanging next to my bed!" "Ah, you are awful! You're acting like a housewife complaining that her husband's always away but still leading a wonderful life with the money he earns!" Nicholas said nothing. "So you think I'm a sponger only wanting you for your money?" Marcus sensed that Nicholas was seriously hurt. "I'm sorry. I didn't meant to say this. But you must accept that I led my life before you entered it and I can't change it all of a sudden. I'm sorry that you get air sick Surely there is something you can take to prevent it?" "Yes, tablets or something. That's not the problem. But do you always have to fly? Can't you go to ... Frankfurt or Hamburg were we can go by car?" Marcus shook his head. "There's nothing for me at those places, honey." He pulled him back to his chest. "I'll give you gladly everything I have. And I'm happy if you'll share it with me. What else is the point of having all this money? It must be spent." Nicholas feeling himself reconsiled to an extend, leaned over and began to kiss Marcus' neck below the earlobe which caused Marcus to giggle. They jumped as the phone rang. "Heavens! I should have turned the damn thing off when we are together." Marcus muttered but stood up and went to answer it. At first he heard nothing but then there was a hollow, male voice which sounded as if it came from overseas saying "I am really sorry that the whole room didn't go up in flames. Really sorry. It would had been more fun." The words were spoken almost casually, so Marcus needed time before the meaning sank in. "Hello?" Marcus shouted, "who's that?" "You'll know soon enough." Again the calm, controlled, somewhat flat voice. "Your precious little boy is safe?" Marcus sensed that the toneless voice laughed amused. "Again, what a pity. Watch out the next time." "Hello?" The line was dead. Confused Marcus stood and stared at the receiver, then slowly put it back. "Who was it? Wrong number?" Marcus shook his head. "I'm not sure", he said and went slowly back to the couch. "Couldn't you hear?" Nicholas insisted. "Yes, someone making stupid jokes, I guess." "Stupid jokes?" Nicholas asked. "About the fire. Only some silly person who gets his kicks from making stupid calls. Don't worry about it." He sat beside Nicholas and stared at the telephone. "Your precious little boy is safe?" the flat voice was still ringing in his ears. Suddenly Marcus began to sweat. What if there was a connection between the mugging in the toilet at the "Moonbreaker" and the fire in the exhibition hall? But what possible reason could there be for it? "You ok?" Marcus turned his head and nodded slowly. "That's good, then we can continue where we were interrupted." And he grabbed Marcus rather limp body and pressed his lips on Marcus'. "You still didn't tell exactly when you have to go", he murmured. "Huh? Um, in three days." "Three days! Well, then we shouldn't miss an hour..." On those cold nights -------------------- Three days later Nicholas came downstairs and sat at the kitchen table where Anna had made the breakfast. He sat down and looked at the slices of bread and marmalade. There was nothing more. Nicholas sighed and went to the fridge, opened it and pulled out butter, sausage and orange juice. Anna was a great one for her gargantuan lunches but for breakfast she was stingy like the old man in Dicken's Christmas tale whose name Nicholas had forgotten. He heard Marcus coming down the stairs with his suitcase which he placed in the hall, and entered the kitchen. Silently he sat at the table and looked at his plate. "Hungry?" Nicholas asked. "Hm, not very. I see, Anna was economical again." "Yes, but I can make you something better." Marcus looked at the young man and smiled weakly. "You don't have to. It's enough." Listless he took a slice of bread and smeared butter upon in. "When do you have to go to the Academy?" Nicholas looked at the kitchen watch. "In about an hour." Marcus took a bite from his slice of bread and looked intently. "Promise me to look after yourself?" Nicholas looked up. "You mean Frank? Hm, what could happen? He certainly won't rape me on the floor of the class room! And if he tries, I'll scream bloody murder!" Marcus grinned. "Ok, watch out nevertheless. Always, promise?" "Yes, if you insist." Marcus was restless and couldn't sit in his chair. He rose and went into the hall to put on his coat. Nicholas followed. Marcus pulled him into a tight embrace, kissed his mouth and whispered, "I'd much rather stay here, especially now ... but ... don't let yourself seduced by other handsome men." He grinned, opened the door, turned and said, "I'll call you as soon as I arrive." Another long glance and he closed the door. Nicholas felt a bit forlorn standing there in the large hall. Slowly he entered the kitchen again and began to put the plates into the dish washer. The phone rang in the hall and Nicholas was startled for a moment. He went into the hall. "Hi, angel, Marcus still there?" he heard Sebastian's voice. "No, you've just missed him. Where have you been the last three days?" "In bed, most of the time..." "Are you ill?" "No," Sebastian chuckled, "actually very much alive, Nicki. So Marcus is gone already. What a pity, I thought he'd still be there for a couple of hours. Shall I come to you to play the baby-sitter again?" "Baby-sitter?" Nicholas frowned but knew instantly Sebastian was joking. "Yes, please, daddy, I'm feeling very lonely in the big house!" "Now, seriously, do you want to stay at Marcus?" "Yes. But now I have to hurry. I've got to register at the academy this morning." "Do you want me to come with you?" "No! What's the matter with you? Are YOU lonely?" "I had company for three days, thank you." "Kay?" Nicholas said excited. "Kay. He phoned in sick for work!" "Ah! Sick, eh? And which of you now needs a little soothing ointment?" "I was the top, honey." "Oh, poor Kay and his more poor ass! But shouldn't you actually in Rome?" "Rome? What's that? Ah, I remember vaguely. Well, actually I wanted to speak with you both, but now it will have to wait until Marcus' return. But whenever you feel lonely call me, ok?" "Will do. By the way can you give me Kay's number?" After Nicholas noted the number on the pad he hung up, drank his coffee, had a bite from the slice of bread and left the house. He used the surburban rail and the tram to reach the old, ivy-covered brick building of the academy of Arts. He stood a moment in silence in front of it and watched the young people going in and out. Marcus had told him not to go to the usual rooms where the registering took place, but into the office where everything would be arranged. Certainly Marcus had used his influence to get him a place but Nicholas didn't mind. He passed the long queue standing in front of the wooden door with the notice 'register here' and searched for the secretary. He smelled again the familiar and long-missed scent of paints and spirit, glue and floor-wax, passed lads and girls with sketch pads under their arms, in paint-blotched smocks and enjoyed the feeling of being there again. Finally he found the right door, knocked and entered. Ten minutes later he had filled in his register had learnt that he could start with the new semester beginning next week and felt happy. "Nick?" Nicholas lifted his head and tried to focus it at the man who was just came around the corner. He wore a white smock and had some sheets in his hand. He know the piercing light blue eyes very well and it gave him a feeling almost as if he had been punched in the stomach. "Have you lost your way or can I welcome you again into my working group?" It was Frank staring at him curiously. Nicholas cleared his throat. "If the price to be here is to work in your group then I will pay it." "Indeed you will? The last time I saw you you were running out of my flat! And leaving a very strange present for me at the blankets..." "You remember this? Must have left a very big impression." "Of course it did. I saved it as one of my trophies." Franks voice was derisive. "I hope you have built up an exhibition box for it!" Nicholas spat out. "How many other boys have you given the same treatment? And did they enjoy it as much I enjoyed it? You are certainly sick, man. Now, let me go, I have more important things to do." "Have you?" Frank's mocking laughter followed Nicholas to the exit. "Certainly I have. Don't you read the newspaper? Or watch TV? When was the last time YOUR name was in the headlines?" he shouted back. Once out of the building Nicholas took a deep breath of sharp, cold air. He looked at the cloud-covered sky and smelled snow. "What an asshole", he muttered. Actually he wanted to do a little shopping but the school wasn't far away from his parents' flat, so he took the next tram. By now it was early afternoon and his mother would had returned from work. How long had it been since his last visit? It was Christmas eve and all had been grey for him but then ... so much was happened to him and he felt for the first time in his life loved and protected and strong enough to face all shitty things which could ever happen to him. He rang the bell and his mother opened the door, still dressed in her coat. He looked her up and down and it crossed his mind that she needed a new coat and other clothes. His mother was an attractive woman and shouldn't wandering around like a grey mouse. He had Marcus' credit card with him as always and felt for the first time the need to use it. His mother beamed and dragged him into the small corridor. "Hi mum. Sorry, I should have brought you something but I've come straight from the academy where I registered and I thought I'd visit you on the way home." He peeled out off his leather jacket which his mother eyed suspiciously. "You wear expensive clothes, Nicholas. Does your ... friend pay for all this things?" Nicholas looked at the ceiling. "Mum, you know he does, we've already discussed it." "I don't like the idea a foreign strange man paying for my boy." She hustled him into the kitchen. "Your father's still sleeping. Are you hungry? I have some stew from yesterday." "Yes. It's long time since I had one of your stews." "What does this Anna cook? Only caviar and lobster?" Nicholas laughed. "No. Meat rolls in cream sauce and knuckles of pork and sauerbraten but for breakfast we only get bread and marmalade." "So? How long have you liked knuckles of pork?" "I don't like it, mum, that's the problem. Have you told father?" "Have I told him what? Ah, you mean... about our little talk the other day?" "Hm." "No, I haven't, you know that you must talk about it on your own." "But why do I have to tell him?" Instead of an answer Vera pulled out an old newspaper and shoved it under Nicholas' nose. She tapped her finger on an article. "Read it." ".... known to be homosexual - his newest boyfriend." Abruptly he lifted his head, looked amazed into his mother's face and then recognised the name of the newspaper. It was a typical gutter press newspaper, which concentrated on scandals, one Marcus didn't read. "Shit. Did father read it?" "Of course. And he had a row because in his opinion I seemed to be hiding things from him." She leaned forward. "And he's right. But I didn't give anything away, and now it's your turn to set the record straight." Nicholas stared sadly at his picture. The quiet creak of the bedroom door told that his father was coming. Vera put a bowl of steaming soup in front of her son, but Nicholas had lost his appetite. "Ah, look who's there!" his father exclaimed in a not unfriendly tone although there was something strange in his voice and Nicholas was alarmed immediately. "Hi, dad." Quickly he closed the newspaper and tried to hide it amongst the others lying on the table. "I want a few words with you, Nicholas', his father said and sat down at the table. He glanced at the newspapers. "You know I've read this. And I'm happy for you, the exhibition seemed to be a big success. Your mother told me there was a fire?" Nicholas swallowed a spoonfull of soup. "Yes. A defective element or something." Rudolf Zellner nodded and scratched his head. "Then certainly you've read the section about this ..." "Marcus Weidenbruch?" Nicholas helped. "Yes. I know what lies these slobs of journalist sometimes write but is it true?" His eyes were searching. "Is what true?" Nicholas stirred the soup and fished some carrots out of it. "That the man is a fairy." "Fairy, aha." Now he sorted out the peas and made a pattern around the plate on which the bowl was standing. It was an old habit he had had since his childhood and his mother had to suppress a smile. "And? What's wrong with Marcus?" "Nicholas," his father looked seriously. "What this ... Weidenbusch IS doesn't mean anything to me. But if he ever tries anything nasty with you, then..." "What ... then?" "Good Lord! You know what I mean!" "Well, I think you have a completely wrong idea of a "fairy", dad." "Have I?" "Yes." Nicholas nodded and spooned the carrots back into the soup. "I want you to listen to me." His father's voice was all of a sudden sharp and Nicholas flinched. The spoon clinked on the bowl. "Is it true what the newspaper said?" He gazed deep into Nicholas' face and searched for something to tell him that it wasn't true. Apparently he couldn't find what he was looking for. "Say something! Is it true? Is my son a fucking faggot?" "Rudolf!" Vera shouted. "Please don't talk like that." Rudolf threw a threatening glance at his wife. Nicholas stopped eating. "And if? What then?" "What then?" His father's face flushed. "Are you telling me that it's true? Oh God!" He leaned back in his chair. "So it is true, yes?" he whispered and took a deep breath. Nicholas rushed on recklessly. "I've lived in his house since Christmas and I'm going back to the Academy. I just came from registering for the next term. It begins next week. And you will not stop me doing this whatever you think of Art and artists, nor stop me carrying on living in his house." His voice trembled a bit. "Yes it is true. I AM A FUCKING FAGGOT!" he shouted. He threw the spoon down upon the table, got up, shoved back the chair with his knees and went out of the door. In the hall he hastily pulled on his jacket, went out and slammed the door behind him. He ran downstairs and out of the house. The sharp wind hit him on his hot face. It was snowing, thick flakes already covering the streets. Nicholas made the snow and the wind responsible for the fact that he wasn't able to see properly as he tried to cross the crowded street with large steps, but it was rather the tears that filled his eyes. He heard a sharp squealing of brakes and barely avoided a car, slamming his fist upon the bonnet and running blindly on until he reached the traffic island in the middle of the street and the tram stop. With his palm he wiped his wet face. A tram pulled up, Nicholas stepped in and found an empty seat. After some minutes he pulled himself together and found he could think clearly again. The tram passed Matthias' home and Nicholas decided to make a quick visit. He had to speak to somebody. Tina brought a cup of hot tea and placed it in front of Nicholas who sat almost submerged in a deep, soft armchair pulling his knees to his chest. "So your father called you a fucking faggot you say?" she said after a while. Nicholas sniffed and searched for a handkerchief. Matthias gave him a fresh one. "I'm sorry Nick. But we feared what his reactions would be, didn't we?" "Yes." Nicholas head dropped. "What a shit." "And your mother?" Tina asked. Nicholas shrugged his shoulder. "Maybe she'll be taking the consequences of what I've done." "Rubbish. You haven't 'done' anything!" Matthias threw in. "Do you want to stay here tonight?" Tina asked. "This couch makes a good bed." "Yes! We could ope a bottle of wine and you pour your heart out. And tomorrow things will seem so much better." Matthias' eyes sparkled. Nicholas sniffed again and looked thankfully at his friend. "May I?" Matthias smiled.