Lipstick Scars II ~ Coincidences

By: Noctiluca ~ [email protected]

 

Once I was your everything
Once I was the fire in your eyes
Traces of your kisses stamped onto my memory
Traces of laughter and tears
Your lipstick traces still burning my skin
Once...

***

The Rainbow Theatre.
It looked the same, hell, it even smelled the same. Curt strolled in through the front-door and walked through the auditorium, up to the stage. His band was already busy plugging in their instruments and doing the sound check.
"Alright," he said and nodded as he passed by one of his technicians.

The man looked up and smiled. "Hey Curt, how's it feel being here again?"

He just shrugged and walked on.

*What do you think, you stupid fuck? I'm beaming with happiness and anticipation!*

Right now he hated himself for ever having agreed to do another show here. But Barry thought it was a great idea and at the time he'd thought it didn't really matter where they played anyway. All stages looked the same. Even the audiences looked the same from up there. But now...
He knew that for his British fans it was a small sensation that he'd agreed to do another show at the Rainbow. And Barry was right, of course. If he performed the song tonight, the crowd would simply go nuts. But Curt had never given himself for cash and he had no intention of changing that tonight.
Especially not tonight.

"There you are!"
Barry rushed towards him, grabbing him by the arm as if he was scared he might run away. "You okay? Fine! There's a reporter backstage, wants to do a little interview."

Curt gave him a look.
"I said no interviews."

It was a snarl. Barry raised his hands, all innocence.
"Hey man, I'm only doing my job! We'll keep it brief, promise. Now, come on, she won't bite ya."

Curt sighed deeply. Sometimes he wondered what he was paying this guy for. He never did what he asked him to anyway.

*Compromises.*

***

He was here.
Here, in this city. Maybe just a few blocks away. Maybe on the other end of town, but even that was close enough to make him nervous. Very, very nervous. Curt was here tonight.

Brian took a deep breath and fumbled for his cigarettes in his pocket. His fingers shook a little as he lit a fag and took a long drag.

*That's better. Much better.*

In fact, there was no reason to be so excited. Curt was in
London - so what? It was just a coincidence, it didn't mean anything at all.

"Curt." He said the name aloud, a slight frown on his handsome face.
"Curt..."

He sighed and shook his head as a little smile stole on his lips. He didn't even know why he was smiling, maybe it was just... That name. He'd missed the sound of it.
After all, they'd had one hell of a time together. A thrill ride, a fucking roller-coaster, a dance along the edge. Always pushing each other to the limits. It was strange, but to know that Curt was here... Suddenly he didn't feel so all alone anymore.

"You need a good therapist, boy. - And will you stop talking to yourself now?"

Again, he shook his head, trying to lose that smile on his face. He bit his lip. But he couldn't help it. Something inside of him had become alive.
His stomach felt like it was frozen and all aflutter all at the same time.

He'd always been so bitter about it all, cursing Curt, cursing Mandy, cursing Jerry... most of all himself. Oh, the self-pity. Sometimes he almost seemed to enjoy the pain and misery, bathing in it. Brian, the tragic hero. Definitely his favorite part in the last years.
He smiled ironically. Oh, he'd been so good at it. He'd grown so accustomed to this mask it was hard to let go. But he had to let go if he wanted to live again, to look ahead, start something new.

*But what? What do you want to start? What do you want to do with your life?*

He had no answers to these questions. All his life he'd only had one goal: To become a star. No matter what the price. But if that was true, why had he let it all slip away so easily?

He stared out the window, only then realizing that it was the same window where he'd stood as he watched Curt leave so many years ago. He lifted his hand and gently touched the cold glass. Then he leaned his head against it.
This concert tonight... What if he went there? Just for a little while... Just for a couple of minutes... Just to see him again.
No, that was bullocks. He'd done that once before and it had only made everything worse. He remembered everything like it had only been yesterday.
The Rainbow Theatre. It was a strange concert, almost macabre. Everyone was there to celebrate the death of Glitter. And then the show's peak, Curt's haunting performance of "Gimme Danger".
Curt in the bluish light... like a fallen angel... or like an angel, falling... He'd never performed the song live again. Nobody knew why.

But he did.

***

"Curt? Phone call!"

The rock star nodded and made a gesture for the band to cut the music. He followed the man backstage to a telephone in some gray corridor, ghostly atmosphere with greenish neon light.

"Yeah?"

"
Curt? It's me, luv!"

He smiled as he recognized the warm voice with the slight Spanish accent and leaned against the wall.

"Angelo, hey. What's up, man? Where are you?"

The connection was bad and that was bad news, because it probably meant...

"I'm still in
Paris, darling. I'm awfully, awfully sorry, but the show took longer than expected and now I can't get a flight that will be in London in time!"


Curt held his breath and closed this eyes. *Oh no, please don't let that happen... Not tonight.*

"Curt, are you there, honey?"

"Of course I'm there! I'm here in
London, just like we said *five fuckin' months ago*! Angelo, for fuck's sake, you promised to come!"

He felt like someone had just pulled away the ground beneath his feet. He couldn't believe Angelo would leave him in the lurch like this! He knew how important this was to him, didn't he?

"I know. I'm really, really sorry, Curt, please believe me."

"Fuck!"

"Curt, please. There's no need to yell at me. I didn't plan this. I *wanted* to come."

"Oh yeah? FUCK YOU!"

"Curt! Can we handle this like grown-ups, just once? Curt? Curt? You still there? - Mierda!"
A frustrated sigh echoed through the empty corridor.

The receiver hung down loosely, abandoned.

***

Cold and starry night and everyone was there. Easy to spot them in the audience, beside the stage, faces, faces, faces. And he hadn't even been sure why he'd gone there in the first place. As Brian had stood in the open door all he could do was stare at the beautiful creature on stage... and know that a part of him had died. Even when their eyes met, when Curt looked right at him he'd known that it was over. But Curt, who had been the one to leave, still wouldn't let him go. He had sung his song to him as if they were alone in this huge crowd, alone in town, alone on earth. It was then that he realized he had come only to leave him, to say his good-byes. To have the final word. He always had the final word.

*And nobody leaves me. Nobody leaves ME.*

It was the saddest, the most bitter revenge.

*Oh this is such a sad affair...*

One look was enough to see him breaking. One look was enough to destroy everything they had ever had.
Games... But does it matter in the end, who leaves who?

Brian blinked and stared at the entrance of the Rainbow Theatre, catapulted back into the present. Like a huge, dark mouth, swallowing the groups of arriving Wild fans. It wasn't sold out and even the street-hawker in the small side street beside the theatre couldn't get rid of his tour posters.
It hurt to see that, even if he wasn't sure why. The golden years were over, even for Curt.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment.

*Regrets, Brian? You? You of all people? You're feelin' guilty? For what?*

Ten minutes before the beginning of the concert.
The unknown band opening for Curt was just bloody awful. The audience obviously hated them too, at least it sounded like they did. These weren't the glitter kids he used to know. Only few wore glitter make-up, most of them looked more like rowdies. Brian sighed and looked at the concert ticket in his hand. He couldn't believe he had actually bought one. And now he couldn't find the courage to go inside.

***

"Curt? Five minutes!"

*Five minutes. Okay man, be cool now. Just relax. It's just a show, not different to any other show you've done. Just a show.*

Curt stared into the mirror of his dressing room and sighed deeply. He was scared. He was fucking scared to go out there tonight. He stepped back and started to pace restlessly. The memories were so alive tonight he could almost smell the past. He had fought so hard to leave it all behind. It had taken him incredibly long to let go and finally go on with his life. But he had made it. And in the end he was almost convinced that breaking up with Brian was the best thing he'd ever done in his life.
He was in control now. It was his band, his music, his tour, he made the decisions. Well, most of the time. But still...
Since that night he had left without looking back, Brian's accusations and insults ringing in his ears there had been something missing in his life.

The passion was gone.
But what was the use of thinking about it now? There was no going back. He had stopped thinking about it, thinking of *him* years ago. It didn't even hurt anymore.

But still he was nervous. Had he really come to terms with his past? He could almost hear it, whispering to him, dark and seductive.

*Give in to me. Embrace me. You know you want to. You know you need it. Give in to me and be yourself again.*


Fuck, he needed a drink. He hadn't touched alcohol in years, but the sudden need to drown a glass of whiskey was almost driving him insane.

Normally he liked to be alone before the show, he couldn't bear to be among people then. But tonight he felt... lonely. He thought of Angelo and angrily clenched his fist.

*Fuck that bastard. You don't need him. You don't need anyone.*

It didn't help much, but at least a little. It always helped to be angry. He had done some of his best performances that way. He looked into his eyes in the mirror.

"Why am I still doing this? Can you tell me?" he asked his reflection.

The truth was that he knew the answer. He was still doing this because being on stage was the only thing that made him feel alive. The power of the music engulfing him, the blinding lights... It was his life.
Suddenly he half-smiled. Yeah, it was his life. And always had been. There had been a short time in his life when he had lost track of that, and it had nearly destroyed him. He had sworn to himself never to let that happen again.
He got up and glanced at his reflection again for one last time.

"Okay." He sniffed. "I'm ready. Ready as can be."

***

The sound of guitars, raw and untamed, powerful. Brian could tell by the crowd's reaction that Curt had entered the stage, even though he was still outside. It gave him the creeps. He could hear them cheer through the half-open door, even on the other side of the street where he was still standing.

*Too late, my friend. Can't go inside now, can you?*

He bit his lip, trying to imagine how Curt looked tonight, what he wore. But all he saw was Curt on that stage five years ago, his bare, muscular chest shimmering in the blue lights, and those tight silver pants hugging that gorgeous ass of his like a second layer of skin... The black eyeliner intensifying the distant stare of his eyes...
He was a living legend that night, more than ever before. Like a creature from another world, almost too beautiful to be real.

When Curt began to sing he tensed, closing his eyes as he listened to the words.

"I am the passenger
And I ride and I ride
I ride through the city's backside
I see the stars come out of the sky
Yeah, they're bright in a hollow sky
You know it looks so good tonight..."

Brian opened his eyes again and looked up to the sky. Yes, it was beautiful. Cold and starry. Good song.
He could almost see Curt standing at the microphone, cupping it in his right hand like he always used to do, left hand stuffed in the back pocket of his pants as he slowly swayed back and forth.

"And everything was made for you and me
All of it was made for you and me
'Cause it just belongs to you and me.."

Brian stared at the entrance of the theatre, transfixed. To hear this voice again... It sent shivers down his spine.
He couldn't stay. He couldn't. But he couldn't walk away either. He only knew in that second that he couldn't go in there tonight.

*And you thought you'd left him...*

Life is a tragic comedy, he had learnt that early, but never known how true it was till now. Oh, he had always known how to manipulate people. He had manipulated them all, even Mandy, even Curt. But now in the end it looked like it had been Curt who had been drawing the strings all the time, unknowingly, ever since that moment he had first seen him on stage. And he had been fooling himself thinking he was in control all the time.

It had always been Curt, the only true addiction, too powerful, too big, too *wild* to fight. He had always been the stronger one, even when he was on his knees.
Had he ever known? Even Brian hadn't realized before. It wasn't much of a shock though. It was more like a soft release. It took away the tension, the anger and the pain.

Slowly he began to walk. Walking always helped him thinking. He crossed the street and walked into the small side street beside the Rainbow Theatre ignoring the street-hawker as he passed him. Behind the theatre he sat down on the steps of an ugly decaying brick house and lit a fag, staring at the theatre's smudgy backdoor and listening to the hollow sound of music coming from the stage hidden behind it.

***

The crowd called out for more. His ears were ringing from the noise. After almost one and a half hours his whole body was covered in sweat and he was so exhausted he could barely walk straight as he left the stage. Just like in his wildest days. When Curt had felt like this he had always know he had given the best he could, all he could. He had known he had been really, really good. Wishing he could go on singing and playing for a couple of hours more. Longing for a few more kicks like the ones you got when they were screaming your name on top of their lounges...
But tonight it was different. He left the stage glad it was over. During the whole performance he had struggled against an invisible opponent, leaning there in the open door, staring blankly at him each time he dared to close his eyes.
He grabbed the towel someone handed him and rubbed his chest and face dry as if trying to wipe away the past. He almost ran for his dressing room and only relaxed when its door was closed tightly behind him and he leaned his head against the cool wood.

"Surprise!"

He jumped at the unexpected noise. Angelo was standing opposite of him, smiling warmly, his face beaming, arms open wide.
"Hello, lover! What do you say now? I made it! I was a little late, like an hour or so, but hey, I made it!"

Curt just stared at him, his heart beating madly from the shock.
"Geez, Angelo! What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Angelo looked back at him, biting his lip.
"Well... I surprised you, I guess. Sorry, luv, didn't mean to startle you like this!" He laughed, his eyes shining warmly. "Man, you look like a ghost! Come here!" He stepped over to him and pulled him close for a hug.
"Sorry darling. Can you possibly forgive me? One last time?"

Curt couldn't help but smile. Impossible to be mad at this guy for longer than a minute. He leaned back to look into his eyes. "Don't do that again," he said gravely.

"I won't, promise."

Damn, it was good to see him. It brought him back to the present, pushing back the dark shadows of the past.

Angelo raised his hand to gently stroke Curt's cheek, then he cupped his face with his hands and kissed him devotedly. When they parted he sighed happily.
"I came just in time to see the end of the show. Oh, you were fabulous, absolutely fabulous!"

Curt pulled back almost violently and looked away.
"Don't shit me, 'k?"

"What? Curt, luv, you were great! And you know that yourself. What's wrong? Won't you tell me?"

Angelo looked at him with those big chocolate-brown eyes that could melt anyone's heart. Curt sniffed and walked over to a chair, sinking down on it exhaustedly. He shook his head.

"I dunno. It's just... this building. Aw, forget it, it's nothing."

Angelo pulled over a chair and sat down opposite of him, a concerned look on his face.
"Shit. I didn't know, Curt."
He sighed. "Stupid me, I just didn't remember. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I was late."

Curt smiled.
"Hey, it's not your problem, man."
He leaned back in his chair and exhaled deeply. "I'm glad it's over."

He'd only just said it when the door opened and Barry stepped inside, a strange look on his face.
"Hey man, not now! Beat it!"
Curt snarled angrily.

But Barry just opened the door even wider.
"Listen," he only said lowly. Both Curt and Angelo turned towards the door.

The crowd was still screaming for more. But the rhythmical "More! More!" calls had mixed with something else... It was only faint and distant, but it grew stronger. Now it was loud enough, easy to make out.

"Gimme Danger! Gimme Danger! Gimme Danger!..."

Barry looked at Curt who's expression had frozen and shook his head smiling. "This is amazing!" He stepped over to them and laughed. "I don't know what's going on out there, but they're really going crazy, Curt! You better get out there quickly before this gets outa control!"

Curt seemed to look right through him.

*Brian!*
Leaning in the open door, staring at him emotionlessly. Mercilessly. Staring him down.
*Bring it back. Bring it back to me!*
But he just turned and walked away.
Vanishing. Vanishing into thin air, running like sand through his fingers, impossible to stop, to hold on to. Vanishing... vanishing...gone.

"Curt?" Barry shook him impatiently. "What are you waiting for? Get up! This is not the time to play diva! Pull yourself together, go out there and fuckin' give them what they want already!"

*Snap.*

That was the last straw. He didn't even know what he was doing, he only knew that he had had enough. Like in a reflex Curt's hand flew up, grabbing Barry by the throat as he rose to his feet and slammed him against the wall. He stared at him with dark eyes, twinkling dangerously.

"Read my lips, Barry," he said under his breath. "*You*... *are*... *fired*."

Barry's eyes widened.
"Fired? You can't fire me in the middle of a tour!" Barry snapped.

Curt angrily pushed him away, sending him flying against the other wall. Angelo, who had watched the scene silently pulled up his eyebrows and looked at Barry.
"Well, luv, he just did," he said dryly.

Curt grabbed his leather jacket and was out of the room. He needed to get out of this madhouse immediately. As he hurried for the back door he could hear them screaming: "Gimme Danger! Gimme Danger! Gimme Danger!..."

*I'm through. I'm through with this shit, for once and for all! I'm fuckin' through with all of these fuckin' compromises!*

He pulled the heavy iron door open and stormed out of the building - and froze.

***

The shock.
It was him.
It was Curt.

Staring at him just as unbelievingly. Looking him up and down as if he almost didn’t recognize him in his ordinary jeans and shirt. Brian swallowed hard, feeling caught, lost.

God, this was awful. He didn’t know what to say. His heart was beating madly. Same blue eyes, the long, bleached blond hair, a leather jacket. A little worn out, a little fucked up, but still handsome as hell. But his eyes were cold, colder than he remembered.

*Baby’s on fire, better throw her in the water...*
Long lost song, faint and distant... And the curtains always blew.

*We’ll take over the world tomorrow.*

*Sure. Anything you want.*

Bathing in pink champagne... Running wild along the beach...

*You can’t run from the demons you carry inside.*

*Then embrace it. Embrace the demon.*

*But I can’t. I can’t.*

Those blue, dreamy eyes. Always the wild one, the untamed. Coming into his life like a thunderstorm, breaking all the barriers. Breaking every rule.

*I know what I want.*

*What’s that?*

*You.*

The curtains blew... catching fire... burning up in microseconds... gone.
Ash rain falling all around them. Minutes frozen, seemingly lasting forever. And a cold, uneasy silence screaming at him, turning his insides out.

*Say something. Say something, now!*

"Hey," Brian finally managed to squeeze out as he got up from the steps where he'd been sitting all the time. His ass felt like it was frozen, but he hardly noticed. Just stared at Curt.
No answer. Curt stared back at him, eyes widened with disbelief. For a long, horrible moment nothing happened. Then, eventually...

"Hey."


Brian forced an uneasy smile, trying to act cool.
"How’s it going?"

Curt still just stared at him, the situation so surreal he was simply unable to react.
Was he dreaming? Hallucinating?
He had to be dreaming! He had only just managed to escape a real nightmare and now... After five years he had finally agreed to perform in the same theatre where he had seen Brian for the last time. And who did he meet outside the backdoor? Brian. Just like he'd been waiting out there all the time.
Was this a fucking joke? Suddenly he laughed with disbelief, shaking his head.

"How it’s going? You fuckin' asshole!"
He stared at Brian, half amazed, half upset.
"After five fuckin' years, is that all you have to say?"

Brian swallowed hard. But suddenly he couldn’t help smiling. This was just like Curt. Just like the Curt he had known. He took a step closer and looked into Curt’s eyes who stared back at him reluctantly.

"Man, you asshole,"
Curt repeated lowly.

Brian’s smile faded. "Yeah, I... I know."


Curt still stared at him like he was seeing a ghost. He just couldn't believe his eyes. Brian looked so young... So much like he had looked when they first met. Too much to be for real. He took a step back and buried his hands in his pockets without taking his eyes off him.

"God, Brian..." he finally said unbelievingly. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

Brian swallowed and shrugged. "I... don't know. I heard you were in town and I thought... Guess I just wanted to see you."

"You wanted to see me? Why?"

"Well why not?" Brian almost snapped.

Curt didn't answer, he just looked at him.
"Maybe because last time we talked you told me to piss off," he finally said, softly.

Brian stared at him and nodded. "I did, didn't I?"

With a horrible squeaking sound the backdoor opened again and Angelo peeked out.
"Curt? You alright? You wanna go home?"

Curt spun around and stared at him, then turned back to Brian who looked back at him uncertainly. He shrugged and smiled at little with those seductively pouting lips.
"Guess I'd better go now."

But his eyes said something different. His eyes said so much, almost overflowing with so many different emotions. Curt had never seen him like this before.

*Stay.*

He wanted to say it aloud, but all he could do was swallow hard. Brian took a few steps backwards, still not able to take his eyes off Curt.

"I... I'll see you later."

*Say something, Curt, please! Don't let me go like this!*

Their eyes locked. Something inside of Curt's eyes seemed to stir. The flash of a flat smile on lips that had once taken Brian's breath away.

"Yeah," he said lowly. "See ya later."

Brian smiled at little, knowingly, and nodded. Then he turned around and slowly walked away.

 

 

Part Three

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