�Just what the hell do you think you�re doing Allen? Just what was THAT all about?�
�I�m doing exactly what you told me to do big brother. Allen replies calmly as he shakes off my grip. �I�m leaving on my own terms.�
�Why you ungrateful, selfish little bastard! How dare you imply that any of this spectacle of yours was my idea! What I told you to do was to fulfill your obligation like a gentleman. No real man would ever embarrass all of us in such a childish and selfish manner!�
Allen catches sight of Dietrich coming down the stairs to join us then comes nose-to-nose with me and hisses; �YOU are certainly in no position to lecture me about what it means to be a man brother dear. Not after what I saw you and your� boyfriend up to in our box earlier!�
The purely hateful way he spits out the word �boyfriend� causes my fist to cock and instantly retract�
�No Patrick!� Dietrich shouts as he reaches me just in time to grab my arm and move me aside. �We can�t have you with two injured hands.� Allen smirks in satisfaction knowing he is safe but it lasts only about a second� �Allow me.�
The right hook Dietrich throws is so fast it snaps Allen�s head to the right in a shower of blood from his instantly broken nose. Dietrich leans down to whisper in Allen�s ear as he lay on the floor.
�You will never disrespect me or this family again or I promise you Allen you will regret it for the rest of your natural life. Now get out.�
A flashbulb from a reporter whose hunger for a story has overcome his trepidation accents Dietrich�s dictate perfectly but upon seeing the look on his face he realizes that his photo is never going to make it into the morning�s issue of La Presse�
Allen slowly gets up off the floor and takes a moment to decide what he will do next. Blood runs down his nose staining the entire front of his white shirt and waistcoat. A few bold audience members give in to their curiosity and tentatively enter the lobby to catch a completely different show. For a moment he looks contrite and almost as though he may apologize. The sight of Dietrich gently placing his hand on my arm seems to make up his mind for him. He spits a measure of blood on the marble floor�
�You two queers can go straight to hell.�
And with that, he turns on his heel and exits through the front doors leaving a trail of blood and a small flash of bright gold lying on the marble floor.
Upon closer inspection I see that it is the pin I gave Allen before the start of the evening, which now seems like ages ago. I can�t help but wonder if perhaps the audience is feeling the same way. I close my hand around the rejected offering and hold it tight. I have no idea whether to laugh or cry, whether I am angry or infinitely sad or if I am safe or still very much in danger. Dietrich puts his hand on my shoulder and leads us out of the theater into a thick evening fog that almost completely obscures the waiting carriages at the curb. We get in one and as the cab leaves the sight of the Paris Opera I ask him where we are going.
�I haven�t the slightest idea.� He replies.
Dawn arrives before either of us ever notice the small trickle of blood flowing from my still clenched hand.
End of part 1
