A Beautiful Mess - 1. A Beautiful Mess

“Are you sure there is nothing that can be done?”

Gary seemed oblivious to the noises in the corridor; of the nurses and doctors milling about in the wards. An overload of disinfectant like surgical spirits assaulted his olfactory system. His rounded, chestnut eyes possessed a fog that resembled a mask of sorrow. The last few weeks had been hell on earth, and each day that passed scarred his unshaven face. He sat outside Brian’s private room, away from the general ward, while the nurses washed him and changed the bed linen.

At the first sight of Brian’s brother and sister approaching, he stood up and buried his face in his hands.

Shyann hugged him as he sobbed; his tears stained the white fabric on her shoulders. “Oh, God! What a mess,” she whispered in his ear. She held his face and stared directly into his eyes. Mascara smudged her cheeks. “You have to be strong. Promise me that you will be strong. You’ll always have me as a friend. Always,” she said.

Gary smiled through his tears. “Thank you.”

Kevin, Brian's younger brother, placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Take it easy, bro.”

“Are the doctors here?” Shyann asked, peeking into the room.

“They’re on lunch break. Should be back in about thirty minutes,” Gary said.

“How’s Brian looking?” Kevin asked, taking Gary’s hand.

“The nursing staff have just cleaned him and replaced the bed linen. I’ve been here all morning, he’s peaceful.”

Shyann led the way into the room. Brian’s forced breathing, aided by a heart lung machine, sent shivers up Gary’s spine. He resembled an alien being with an oxygen mask covering his mouth and nose. Two weeks ago Brian had been in the gym almost every day. He lived by a simple motto: If I don’t care for myself, no one else will do it for me. He composed music for a living. Some of it had been snapped up by a Cape Town studio and the future looked promising for this creative young man.

***

The Prawn Basket, a restaurant on the Victoria & Albert Waterfront hosted some big names in the music industry. The Parlotones, Just Ginger, Flash Republic and Die Antwoord had all passed through these doors, playing to the crème de la crème of the music industry.

Brian’s moment had arrived. His light blue eyes glowed with confidence. His lithe, well-built frame lit up the stage. A designer goatee and light beard danced across his face as he sang a Jason Mraz song called, “A beautiful Mess”. The crowd was delighted. He sang three of his own compositions and received a standing ovation.

Gary, seated at one of the front round tables with three studio executives, smiled broadly at him as he left the stage. They met him in the dressing room and Gary hugged him.

“You were fabulous. God, I had goose bumps the whole time.” Gary said, kissing him lightly on the cheek.

‘Enough of that,” said John Hinds, CEO of Prince Records. He extended a hand. “I want you to record some stuff for me.”

Gary said, “ Brian only sings his own music or music that he likes.”

Hinds placed a hand on his hip, looking extremely camp with a scarf hanging loosely off his shoulders, he said, “You’re his manager?”

“Manager and lover.”

“Well, manager and lover,” he sang in a mocking voice, “I want him to record his own compositions, and there are several songs, all hit bound, that I want him to look over and at least consider.”

Brian winked at Gary. “I can do this, Gary,” he said with a rasp in his throat.

Gary didn’t say a word. He eyeballed Hinds for a moment. “I need to see a contract.”

Hinds fished in his large man-bag and brought out a brown manila envelope. “I want you Brian. My partners, Paul and Brett here, were blown away by your voice. We don’t sign up just anybody. Here, take a look at this contract and come back to me first thing Monday morning. I need to get you into the studio as soon as possible.”

***

They danced and kissed and screamed and woop-wooped all over the room and ordered the best bottle of champagne. The manager of the restaurant sent a note: On the house. Congratulations!

“Hey, what’s that on your lip?” Gary said, pointing at Brian’s lip. Brian suddenly stopped laughing and touched his lip as Gary moved in with a gentle kiss.

“Don’t panic. It’s only my lips on yours. Man, I’m so proud of you.”

“Well, Mr. Manager. I think we should call it a night because that kiss…that kiss made me so horny.” Brian said, swiping his hand across the zipper of Gary’s jeans.

Outside, a slight chill swept by the north easter.

The smell of salt carried in the wind.

In the car, Gary turned up the heater and moved towards the main intersection.

‘Did you see the look on Hinds’ face when I said I’m your manager? It was priceless,” he laughed.

“But when he placed his hands on his hip, well, I almost cracked up. I’ve seen camp, but man-oh-man, Hinds is like Oscar material for everything camp. Do you think he offered us the contract because we’re together?”

“Hew offered it because of your voice. Because you’re larger than life. Because you’re not just anybody and I’m just so fucking happy he …”

The screech of tyres against asphalt.

A red car skipped the traffic light.

Tearing metal. Gary's car lurched into the air.

Brian levitated out of his seat and flew headfirst through the windscreen.

Gary’s head spun as he lost control and hit a pole.

Darkness.

***

The doctors arrived.

Shyann gripped Gary’s hand and squeezed. “This is what Brian wanted, Gary.”

Gary couldn’t speak, rivulets of tears streamed down his cheek. His entire body trembled.

Two days before, a judge had handed down the state’s permission to turn off the machines that kept Brian alive. The doctors had filed their reports. Each report, from different brain specialists, confirmed that Brian would never be revived. He was brain dead.

A doctor stepped forward and, in a somber voice, said, “We’re about to turn the machines off. Do you want to stay?”

Gary mumbled, “Oh, God! It’s like watching an execution.”

Shyann turned to Gary. “Do you want to stay?”

He didn’t answer. Moving to the side of the bed, silent tears rolled down his cheeks as he gripped Brian’s hand and kissed it repeatedly. The doctor turned off the machines.

“This is a good deed,” an intern said.

Gary’s tears turned into wild choking sobs as the life of his best friend, his lover, his soul mate, ebbed away and after the doctors had left the room, he and Shyann and Kevin huddled together, crying over the man they loved.

A man who gave them so much happiness.

A man whose eyes had once sparkled with confidence.

“He’s in a better place now.” Shyann said, and held onto Gary for support as Brian’s breathing came to an abrupt standstill.