Made in Heaven - 15. A hole in my soul

It was noon when he arrived at the bookshop which was just in time for the closing hour. On his way back he had tried to find a reason why he had returned and if he should take Chris' offer to quit his job. Sure he had a row with all of his friends, but Maxim thought they had reasons to behave this way. That's what friends are for. He wondered if they would be cross with him. He himself was not. Well, a little bit.

Relieved he noticed Wolfgang wasn't here, just the three of them. Their eyes lit up when they saw him coming. The atmosphere was strange. Everybody seemed to sizing up his feelings. As if in a mutual agreement Tim locked the entrance door and Nadine filled their coffee mugs. Philipp pushed some sandwiches in Maxim's direction.

While Maxim looked uncertainly from one to the other Philipp started. "Good you came. So, I assume you've decided to finish listening to what I have to say."

Maxim sat down but left the sandwiches untouched. His stomach was rebellious and his head felt as if filled with cotton balls.

Phillip took a deep breath. "I've told you that I had stopped my studies to work in his office as art headmaster."

"He suggested the same to me this morning", Maxim threw in.

"Really?" Philipp eyed him. "You'll quit this job here then?"

Tim's eyes grew large when he looked at Maxim.

"No. I won't. You know..." The blacksmith in his head started his work again. "It was the things you said that seeped slowly into my brain. About possession and freedom. I'd like to listen to you." He nodded to Philipp.

The next half an hour Maxim sat there, finished his coffee, tried a sandwich and remained mute. He listened to a story that started happy and ended in mistrust. "I know we appeared in your eyes as something special. It had been. Christian IS something special, but you can turn that as you like. It depends on the point of view." Philipp moistened his dry throat. "When I said I would leave him and began packing my suitcase, he started to persuade me the only way he knows: with sex. I suppose he did the same to you already. Am I right? He solves things with sex."

Maxim's stomach began to glow a painful hot substance.

"But this time he had become brutal", Philipp continued, "but I knew how to protect myself. You just have to resist and he will be like a dog whining at your feet. That's the secret, Maxim." He leaned over to him. "You haven't resisted. He isn't as powerful as he seems to be. Now I know. He's full of complexities, but you need to know more than that. My experiences with Christian are nothing as compared to those that Gregor had to endure."

Maxim bent his head and looked at his shoes. He wasn't sure if he wanted to hear them all. Philipp's calmly told tale had the right effect on him. It cleared his still alcohol- and drugs befuddled brain. Then a hand slipped over into his own. Looking up it was Tim who smiled encouragingly into his face. Maxim tried to smile back and prepared himself for the last part of the story.

"What has he told you that his scar under his hairline is from? I suppose a motorbike accident like he told me. Well, it isn't. Gregor smashed a bottle over his head in one of their fights. Gregor wanted to leave him and Christian tried to hold him the way he knows, he raped him. Did you guess that yet?" Tim's grip around his fingers became stronger and Maxim reciprocated. He pressed Tim's hand through the whole story of leaving and not being able to leave, of reconciliation and jealousy, of controlling, self-hate and glorious heights of happiness.

In the end Maxim felt sick. He didn't want to hear more. The pieces of the puzzle had fallen into the right places but not all. There was still much to ask. Phil had said nothing about Christian's family. Maxim sighed very deeply, then he said, "You know, Phil. Chris accused you of playing rent boy at night at the hotel you worked, accusing you of being the biggest slut in town. I tried not to believe it, but he's very convincing. To each question he has the proper answer."

Philipp almost grinned. "That's him. I know it's hard to tell what's right and what's wrong. Take his mother for instance. Chris told me over years that she had died of cancer. When I had my days with Martin he told me the mother had drowned in a lake. What has he told you?"

Maxim raised his eyebrows. "The latter. Drowned in a lake."

"You see, even he's not perfect at story telling. When you lie you have to have a brilliant memory."

"Do you have more horror-stories in store?" Maxim asked tired. He felt that everything Philipp was saying was meant to open his eyes, not to influence him. He should form his own judgement. After Christian's constant manipulation it was a relief. It seemed all this had made Philipp more mature. A loud bang roused them all. Nadine rushed to the door to see what happened. It was a blond, young man, knocking at the door, indicating her to open.

"It's Gregor", Philipp shouted, "I called him to come."

Now the little round was complete, Maxim thought, eying Christian's ex-lover. Again a complete different type to Philipp and to himself. Gregor was slightly embarrassed but it vanished as soon as he sat down, looking at Maxim. "I knew you would perhaps be here. I wanted to speak to you anyway."

To Maxim it all appeared produced, but what the hell. There was nobody among them who wanted to harm him.

"Admittedly," Gregor looked at the others, "I'd like to talk with you in private, Maxim. Is it possible?"

Tim released Maxim's hand he was still holding and Nadine pulled Philipp away. Maxim followed Tim's body with his eyes. After he had gone he felt lonely and he was surprised about the strength his hand had given him. Gregor took his place beside him. "I really wanted to meet you, you know. Philipp will have told you about our meetings and what I’ve told him. It was good to tell it somebody who had been in love with Christian too. He understood me. I hope you will also. You're still with him?"

Maxim nodded. Gregor's baby-blue eyes had lost its intimidated expression he had seen at Tim's reading. His heart tugged painfully. What was now to come? What would Gregor have to say? Then - after a while when he felt nothing - his brain sat in. He simply listened and turned off his heart. He had to say good bye to a dream.

"The day before yesterday Christian appeared at my flat. He had followed Phil to learn my address. Imagine this! He's acting like a private detective. And then happened something I'm really ashamed of, Maxim, you must believe me. I hadn't dreamt he would still have so much power. He made me enjoy sex with him... no, wait", he said, when he saw Maxim's outmost surprised face. "I didn't enjoy it, I hated it. Shit, I don't know what I felt. First I thought he would rape me again or beat the shit out of me, just because I've talked too much in front of Phil. He was pushy and seduced me! Because he didn't want that anything about our mutual past to reach you, because he loves you - he said. Are you following me?" Maxim shook his head. He couldn't. "Wait a moment. You say the day before yesterday he was with you to threaten you to stay away from me?"

Gregor nodded. "Right. He said he would come more often to have sex with me if I would be silent. Pah. He overrates himself."

Sex as lever, as Philipp had said. And we do all have our brains between our legs, Maxim thought. As if Christian would be that irresistible. Well, wasn't he? "It hasn't worked since you're here", he said aloud. "Thank you." He was cold. Something inwardly had died. How could he do this. Fucking Gregor then returning to him as if nothing had happened and ... raping him too. Yes. What else should you call it? Open your eyes, Maxim. Say good bye to your dream. The sour burning in his stomach increased. He turned his head to Gregor.

"Are you clean?"

"What do you mean clean?"

"Have you had a HIV-test lately?"

"No. I haven't had sex for ... quite a long time. Why?"

"Has he fucked you without protection? I assume he has. Me too. I'd be thankful if you'd go for a test."

Gregor swallowed. "Ok. But I don't think there's anything to fear."

"Shit, Gregor! Christian claims to be a holy man, he's pissed at me when I look at other guys, he accused everybody of fucking around besides his bed, and then he has a go with you as if he would be Jesus to rule the world. That's unbelieving."

They heard his outcry through the whole book department and they were relieved. Philipp had feared Maxim's silence was a sign of disbelief. Now they could discuss it. But what was this? Chris had a go with Gregor? When? He drew nearer and was beckoned by Maxim.

"Sit down." Maxim searched for cigarettes. Philipp gave him one from his package and lit it for him. A second one was for himself. Even if he felt dazed while smoking, he needed it. "Ok, Phil. You won. I can't anymore. This was all a bit too much for me. Can I take your offer for a sleeping place?"

Philipp's face lit up. "Of course you can."

"Christian will search at your place when you don't return", they heard Tim's voice behind them. Maxim turned.

"What about my place? Does he know where I live?"

"No, but he will find out soon", Gregor chimed in. "Like he followed you, Phil."

"He followed me? I haven't noticed. And then?"

"He was with me, I'll tell you later." Gregor looked longing into Philipp's eyes. "Can I come to your place? I have to explain something."

Maxim had the feeling he knew what he had to explain. Then he sensed Tim's hand upon his shoulder. "I have a couch that makes a bed. You just have to bring your cat."

"All my stuff is with Christian." The icon, his books, clothes, plants, CD's and videos, Coco's stuff not to forget. "I have to return to pick it up."

Philipp loosened his gaze from Gregor and said sharply "And to tell Chris you'll leave him? Do you really want to leave him or just have a break from him? If it's the first I warn you. Remember what happened to us."

"Yeah, he's just repeating himself, I haven't forgotten Phil." Maxim sighed unnerved. "What am I suppose to do? I need time, I can't go on, I can't rip out my heart." Tim's hand was pressing his shoulder. 'We can share my clothes or you can buy some new and get stuff for Coco. You have money? Credit card?"

Maxim nodded. He was really about to do it! He couldn't believe it. Last night he had been full of hope that Christian had finally changed. The disappointment hit him hard, but he would survive. Christian Kramer had been a terrible mistake. Perhaps. He nodded and his eyes smiled at Tim. "You would do this for me?"

"Much more than that", it slipped over Tim's lips.

"Better I leave the cat where he is, what do you think, Phil? Is he behaving well?"

"Oh dear, he slept with me", Phil grinned.

"So? He had always been shy with another man."

Maxim pondered briefly if Coco would get used to yet another surrounding. Perhaps he would if he was with him.

"I can move into the hotel room again if you want your flat back", Philipp said, but Maxim shook his head. "As you said, he would find me there. No, for a few days it's either me who moves into a hotel or..." He looked at Tim. "At least until I've figured it out."

Maxim felt very confused when he followed Tim back home. His life had fallen apart. Philipp had promised to follow with his cat later along with food. How good it felt to have friends he thought. They wouldn't leave him alone with all his sorrow. What was left now from his dreams? Why had he been so blind? But then, Gregor and Phil had needed much more time than he to be free. But still there were feelings. The old habit of fancying Christian. How could he wake up without being able to see the blond hair beside him, the body next to his?

"What will he do when you won't come home?" he heard Tim's voice. They had reached his house and led him to a separate entrance. "Aren't you cold in the thin jacket?"

"That's all I have. Just what I carry on my body, nothing more."

"No problem." Tim unlocked the door and guided him up a separate staircase. "Father and Tobias live down here. I have the upper floor which consists of two rooms and a bath. We share the kitchen."

"What will they say?"

"Nothing! They never interfere my life."

"Good for you." He followed Tim into his living room. The poster of a naked man upon a stool caught his eyes. It looked marvellous. Then he saw all the glass covered book shelves, the computer, a desk table, the couch were he was supposed to sleep. A door led into Tim's bedroom and from that to the bath. "Sit down and make yourself comfortable, please. Are you thirsty or hungry?"

"Just thirsty."

Tim went into the small hall and returned with a bottle of water. "Or you can have wine, juice or beer."

Maxim shook his head. He sat forlorn on the sofa and had nothing to busy his hands or arms.

"You haven't answered my question", Tim said softly. "What will Christian do when you don't come home tonight."

Maxim shrugged. "I don’t know, probably bombard me with phone calls. Since I must face him, there is no use in turning off the phone. Also, I vanished yesterday morning. Actually I was supposed to go shopping and look after the cat. He didn’t know I was going to work." The carbonic acid whizzed silently in the glass in front of him.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"Yes. Why have you said nothing. You kept the secret from me until I made a fool of myself", Maxim said bitterly.

"Would there have been any use in telling you before you sensed it with your own body?"

"Does this mean you would have only observed until he actually hurt me physically?"

Tim shook his head. "Nobody could think he would go so far, Maxim. And we have known Gregor's story for just a few days. What has he told you by the way?"

Maxim took a long gulp from the water. Then he whispered "The day before yesterday in the afternoon Chris followed Philipp to Gregor's. He threatens Gregor not to say anything to me. And then he rewarded him with sex."

Tim let out a little moan. "There you have, the whole story. Then why should you hesitate about leaving? And you must confess that going back to him after he had hurt you wasn't exactly intelligent. It made me really angry, you know. I thought you better. If someone would have hurt me like this I'd leave him instantly, not waiting and hoping he won’t do it again." He paused. "I must admit there's an inhibition threshold you have to surpass like Christian did. However, it just increases once it is passed. He probed how far he could go with you, and since you've returned he will do it again. Hurt you."

Maxim looked into his eyes and saw the truth. "How do you know all this?"

Tim shrugged. "From my heart?" he suggested.

"You must think me very stupid. I feel so ashamed."

"No. Balzac once said 'When you're in love the biggest pitfall is called ridiculousness'. So you're in good company here." They grinned at each other. Just that moment there was a ring at his door downstairs. "Must be Phil."

Philipp didn't want to stay because Gregor was waiting for him. He just delivered the cat and tins of food and vanished again, but not before he whispered with Tim in the hall, Maxim couldn't understand a word of what they were saying. He tried meanwhile to sooth the cat who sat in his lap eyeing Tim's rooms. "I know I demand a little too much, sweetie. But I rely on your friendship. Tim’s very nice and anyway, you know him already." Coco 'erfed and purred when Tim returned to take his seat in the armchair and stretched out his legs. "Do you think it’s Gregor and Phil?" he asked.

"Perhaps. Two burnt kids. I’m the third."

"Wrong, the fourth." Tim stretched out his arms and surprisingly Coco jumped into his lap where he made himself comfortable. "Once I thought I could start something with Phil. But I guess he's just a good friend. That's sometimes much better than to have a lover."

Coco blinked with his eyes. He enjoyed Tim's stroking hands. Suddenly Maxim felt the urge to laugh. "We talk like two grandpas looking back at their life!" he snorted. "Do you have something to eat?"

Tim looked at his watch. "They should have returned from work. If you like we can eat all together."

Maxim nodded. Awkwardly he followed Tim downstairs into the kitchen to find Tobias cutting vegetables for a salad. "Hey sweetie," he cheered, "hungry? How was the day?" Then he saw Maxim, wiped his hand and offered it for a handshake. "Welcome." He hesitated for a moment. "Maxim, right?" His eyes darted back to Tim. "You like to eat with us?"

"I'd love to."

It was almost as being at home, Maxim thought. He could feel the affection between both men. It was as if sorrow, trouble and arguments were excluded from his house. No wonder Tim had hung so high his expectations and demands. Who was to satisfy them? Compared with his life with Christian were he had always been on guard this was sort of paradise.

Moritz offered him the bread. "It's nothing special, sorry. We don't make much fuss about dinners in the middle of the week. Are you staying longer?"

Certainly Tim's father had put two and two together and realized Maxim has having trouble with his boyfriend.

"May I?"

"As long as Tim's bearing you." Moritz winked. His look fell upon Maxim's ring but he said nothing. "Joost and Rainer are missing you though."

"Oh yes," Tobias threw in, "we had so much fun searching for his newest outfit. You know, the performances of Weill and Brecht."

"I've still two tickets for that", Maxim suddenly remembered. "Want to come with me?" he asked Tim.

"Sure. Like in the old days."

Maxim's phone rang, causing him to drop his fork and knife. He didn't dare to check who was it, but it seemed to be clear. It was half past seven and Maxim hadn't come home. Moritz raised an eyebrow. "Your partner? You've got trouble, yes? You should tell him about your problems. It's the best way not to hurt him too much."

Maxim wanted to tell him that Christian deserved to be hurt but he was silent until the melody stopped. "I call him later."

'Later' was much later. Maxim had have a glass of wine before he was able to call Christian back. Tim had discretely vanished with the cat into his bedroom. He didn't know if it was his heart or Maxim's that pounded faster and louder. Coco jumped upon his bed, sniffed and approached Tim's body, outstretched upon it. Hadn't Maxim said Coco couldn't stand Christian? With good reasons. "Yeah, you've fine instincts, haven't you. And what do you think of me and Maxim? I mean, not that I would press him. He has to overcome first."

"It's me."

"I see. Where the hell are you staying? One of Phil's parties again? When can I expect you? Actually I thought you would return to the office. Where have you been the whole time?"

"I'm not coming."

"What?" Christian laughed. "Good joke."

"I'm not coming back, Chris."

There was silence at the other end of the line. Then Christian's voice appeared again. Icy. "Phil's told you a story, right? Or was it Gregor? I hadn't thought you would be so easily influenced. I thought you would trust me." He paused. "Come back and I'll tell you a different story."

"A story about rape and humiliation?"

Christian just laughed.

"You were with Gregor the day before yesterday before you madly fucked me. Did you imagined it was him instead of me?"

Christian cut the line.

A minute later it rang again. "Where are you?"

"At ... a hotel."

"You're lying. Are you with Phil?"

"No. No use for you to check. Listen, Chris, give me a time out. I need to think. I don't know anymore what is the truth. I don't want to hear your excuses and explanations. I need to figure out what's the truth. You would help me when you would be honest. Do you really think I can live with you when you lie to me?"

"Has Gregor talked or not?"

Maxim quickly decided to deny. Who knew what Chris was able to do. He knew where Gregor lived. "IS there anything he should tell me?" he asked instead. "What do you hide from me?"

"And how much time do you think you need?"

"A couple of days."

"A couple of days?" Christian yelled. "You don't think I will leave you with other men for a couple of days! Do you? You really should return, it doesn't matter what you think about me. Let me explain everything."

"I'll be in contact."

"I'll miss you like hell. What can I do to make you believe?"

"Just tell me the truth." Maxim cut the line.

He trembled inwardly and poured himself another glass of wine. "Timmy?" he called. "I'm finished."

The door opened and Tim appeared with the cat in his arms. "How was it?" He sat down and filled his own glass. Maxim sighed. "I'm sure he's convinced Gregor has talked. I hope he won't do silly things."

"Well, he won't smash Gregor's door, would he?"

Maxim was silent. Perhaps he would. This was all too much for him. In forty-eight hours he had experienced so many mood-swings. When he thought about last night by the fire side he was ashamed. He had behaved like a slut - as far as he could remember. Like a being whose consciousness had shrivelled to a stiff cock and an open arse hole. What reminded him at the pain he still felt. Timidly he asked "Do you have some cream or ointment for me? I'm still sore."

Tim eyed him compassionately and nodded. "It's in the bath, you need it right now?" Tim rose and vanished in the bathroom. "I've put it out, use it when you need to."

Maxim smiled thinly and fell into a brooding mood.

"What did he say?" Tim inquired furtively.

"He misses me like hell."

"And you? Do you miss him?"

Maxim nodded, and Tim shook his head. It wasn't all that easy to come to terms with the fact that he had fallen in love with a man who wasn't worth it; with a man who had enough violence within him to destroy not only his own life but the lives of everybody coming too close to him, like a praying mantis, killing her lover after sex. Perhaps for Christian this was the completion of sensibility and passion. Perhaps he had made it: loved Maxim and killed him.

Maxim sensed Tim's questioning eyes on him. He couldn't give a real answer. "Give me time", he whispered. "What can I tell you? Nobody can help me. You all tried by giving me countless reasons to split up with Chris, and each of them are reason enough. I just have to come to terms with it, ok?"

Tim's eyes blinked agreement. "As long as you want."

"You know, Tim. That's not all of Christian's secrets. The unsolved riddle of his mother's death and his innuendos of him being guilty of her death. He'll never tell me the story. When I asked he was angry. Or he ... would distract me with sex." Maxim's cheeks reddened and he hastily finished his glass of wine. He was embarrassed to talk about it in front of Tim. If he had been witness of all the nights with Chris he would think him a sex-maniac, and to a certain extent this would be right.

And how would sex with Tim be? Hastily he added "The next thing I'll do is to talk to Martin. Perhaps he won’t be so relentless to hide the story."

"What if they really had something to do with her death?"

"All I know is that his father had betrayed his wife. She was jealous, pathologically jealous... like Chris."

"So, he inherited it, yes?"

"Might be. Fear of loss."

Night had fallen. Tim lit a small lamp upon a shelf, the rest of the room remained in darkness. How quiet it was here, Maxim thought. And how well he could relax. The tenseness fell from his body and made it limp. He wondered that Tim didn't speak about his own feelings for him, about his own dreams. Or that he didn't try to approach him. His eyelids fluttered sleepily. "I wish I could have a few days off", he murmured.

"Me too", Tim said low. "I could care for you." Good that it was said too low for Maxim to hear. He really didn't want to press him. Although being so close to him was painful enough without being able to touch him or to kiss him.

"Do you remember the last time at Made in Heaven?" Tim asked louder.

"Yes. You told me it's a shame to hide you when my boyfriend was coming."

"Right. I was very insulted."

"You never show it. Except when we had the quarrel in the store." Suddenly Maxim laughed out loud. "That was something! The guys thought certainly that was the argument of an old pair, being fed up with each other."

"Do I look that old?" Tim teased him.

"No." Maxim said, suddenly serious. "You look marvellous." The cat had fallen asleep in Tim's arms. All of a sudden Maxim found himself squatted down next to Tim's armchair, taking his head and kissing him on the mouth. "Thanks for being a friend", he whispered.

"I want more than friendship."

"Give me time, angel." Maxim rose. "I'd like to sleep a little. Do you mind?"

"No. Go ahead to the bath. Wait, I'll bring towels and a toothbrush. Pyjama?" Tim grinned. He knew very well that Maxim didn't bother with clothes in bed.

Maxim wished he had help to work the ointment into his anus, but he certainly couldn't ask Tim to do it for him. Perhaps... there would come a time for both of them ... when the distance to Christian would be big enough to forget. Heaven knew when this would be.

* * * * * *

Christian went from one room to the other like a tiger in a cage. After Maxim's phone call a world had broken down. The most shocking thing was it came unsuspected. When Christian thought to have Maxim on the hook again. How could he have had changed his mind so soon after last night? Yeah, sure, Christian had loosened Maxim's inhibitions with the cocktail of wine and tablets, but anyway. Maxim didn't know about that. Apparently he had gone to his work instead of going shopping. What he had learnt there must have triggered his current ill considered acts. And where was he now? What if Gregor hadn't held his mouth but blabbered out their encounter? Would Maxim believe him? How could Christian set such high demands on his partner when he himself was unfaithful as well? He must appear ridiculous in Maxim’s eyes. He couldn’t have that.

He washed away his glass of whisky. Alcohol had always cleared his brain. What if he would take Gregor to task? Right now?

He looked at his watch. It was shortly before midnight. He wouldn't open of course, and smashing the door would alarm the neighbours and police perhaps; then everything would start again: Christian had a file at the police department. No, there had to be a different way.

Restlessly he strolled through his apartment. What was the use of all this when he couldn't share it? And, damn, why was nobody there to share? Why did they all have to leave him? He stopped at the bathroom, looking into the mirror seeing clear bronzed skin, wide-awake, brilliant eyes, shining with the fire of a diamond. He lifted the hair from his forehead and saw the jagged, rosy scar. Gregor's work. What if he would repeat his actions? Trying to commit suicide to get Maxim’s pity? Do you want pity? he asked his mirror image. Certainly no.

He left the bath and entered the bedroom. Maxim's portrait made in Paris came to his eyesight. A dark skinned face with black-burning eyes. Had there been a time when he wasn't in love with him? To Christian this seemed ages ago. Maxim filled his whole thinking. There was still the icon. His books, plants and the cat's basket and toys. He kicked it angrily with his foot. Bloody cat. Maxim always valued the cat more. On a chair he recognized white sheets of paper. Tim's story he hadn't finished yet. Ok, now was the time. Filling his glass to the rim with whisky, he lay upon the bed and started to read.

"It started with roses. They hadn't any card with them, but they could only have been sent by Carsten. He hadn't come to work anymore and from his colleagues Sascha learnt that Carsten was ill. He stayed away from work for quite a time. Depression they whispered. Some of the staff made nasty comments or just laughed about the love-sick little queer. Some of them openly accused Sascha of being responsible for Carsten's state of mind. At least he had dropped him like a hot potato in favour of Denis, the new colleague.

The rose bundles came regularly. Each week a new one. Now they were accompanied by little letters, stuck in blood red envelopments.

Does he fucks you well?

The next bunch had a letter that read

I love you, Come back to me.

Letters followed thrown into their letterbox.

Death to all traitors

it read.

Sascha didn't react. All what he thought was 'hold on for just one more month', then it would be over and he could enjoy living with Denis.

Sascha started by the steps of naked soles on the linoleum behind him. "Can't sleep?"

Denis looked at the torn rose petals. "Do you think we should call the police?"

"No. They wouldn't bother. Those letters and roses aren't proof enough of a threat. We can't prove it's Carsten, even if he lays in wait wherever we go."

"But his doc says he's depressed and thus acting strangely."

Sascha shook his head. "As long as he doesn't hurt us, attack or whatever, there's no need for them to step into it."

Denis sat at the table, opposite him. "What about moving?"

"He would find out." Sascha wondered if he should tell him the whole story. "What would you say if I told you I've met a fairy godmother and she had granted me one wish."

Denis laughed briefly. His stark white teeth enlightened his whole face. "You had wished to fall in love with me?"

"Nope. I wished that Carsten had undying love for me and that's the result."

Denis' large, dark brown eyes looked speculative. "You're kidding me."

Sascha shook his head and knew Denis must think him mentally disarranged.

"Sort of voodoo?" Denis asked. "Happens."

"Pardon?"

"African and Caribbean magic. I said it happens."

"But that wasn't a foul magic. I've really met her."

Denis nodded. "There's more between heaven and earth..."

"You believe me?" Sascha asked flabbergasted.

"All I said it could happen. Why not to you?" Denis took the rose petals and played with them. "So, you've asked for Carsten, yes? You were in love with him and wanted him to love you back. But why such a silly wish?"

Sascha shrugged his shoulders. "I can't remember. But, honey, you know the real good news? It'll be over in two weeks. The fairy godmother wouldn't grant me such a 'silly' wish in the first place. Thus she gave me one year to fix it. I'll meet her again and when I say I don't want this wish she will annul everything."

"Hm. You'd still have one wish granted."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not."

"What would you wish then?"

"Don't know. The lotto-jackpot." Some of the surrealistic feeling that Denis believed what he said faded. Now that his secret was out he breathed relief. "I know it was a stupid wish. And actually I feel very pity for him. He didn't have a chance. But I'd never thought that it could get out of control, you know. Who could have foreseen that Carsten's love would turn into hate?" he said more to himself than to Denis.

"There's always the possibility", Denis said softly. "Come back to bed. I'm cold."

The next morning Carsten was still ill and the colleagues said, everything looked like as if he’d never return. Sascha never told anybody what Carsten was doing to him. When they returned home their mutual flat looked as if hit by a bombshell: Everything had been broken, torn and wet from urine, somebody had ripped their beds and strewn the fluffs and feathers around. On the sheets were white traces and liquid globs, and to crown it all was a Polaroid-photo showing Carsten jerking off, face clenched as if he would bite into a lemon, eyes wide open, gawking directly into the camera.

"That's enough", Denis said. "I'll take this to the police."

Sascha stopped him. "That's embarrassing! Please wait just another two weeks and our problem will be solved."

"And all this?" Denis' arm embraced the whole flat. "What's with that?"

Sascha gave in. They tried not to touch anything, but went to the next police station to report Carsten to the police. A policeman came to look, took photos and wrote a list of broken and destroyed things. Since the door wasn't damaged, he concluded that Sascha had either lost his key or he had forgotten it at his old lover's. He didn't take it too serious though. Served those faggots right. Funny to see they suffer similar things. Sascha and Denis heard that Carsten had been interviewed, but since he was in medical treatment he wasn't responsible for his 'outbursts' as they called it.

"If you're considered to be drunken or mentally ill, you're allowed to do everything in this country", Sascha moaned, but took it somehow as deserved punishment for his rubbish behaviour. But both were on guard. To rip, urinate and ejaculate upon their stuff wasn't exactly harmless but revealed some kind of a destroyed mind. He wondered why those so-called psychologists couldn't see it. Perhaps they saw it and thought it harmless or not curable. Or they were as disarranged as their patients were. Sascha considered the latter.

The roses never stopped. Denis was cross. He regularly threw them into the trash bins or spread them all over the house.

Do you remember my cock? I remember your hole, read one of those blood red letters, Denis had thrown away before Sascha could read it. The last week was pure hell. They could go wherever they wanted, but on each corner they would meet Carsten, a love-sick, silly grin plastered upon his face. He never talked, he never attempted to touch them, and this exactly - those silence - was more threatening than a loud clamour. Then he started to follow Denis separately. He showed up in the bookshop. Carsten seemed to be his charming self again. Nobody thought him ill or sick. Except Denis.

It was the next to the last day before the fairy godmother would undo what had started exactly a year ago. Denis came from the toilet and stood in the wash room and turned on the trap when behind his face in the mirror suddenly another appeared, coming out of a stall. Carsten. His eyes were blood shot and Denis could hardly make out what he was telling him. "I want you to vanish."

Denis turned.

"I want you to vanish from Sascha's life. He’s mine from head to toe. It's impossible for me to love another. I can't even fuck another." His eyes grew large in front of Denis' face. "There's always him. In my mind, talking to me, incessantly. All those words he whispered into my ears. You know that he loves me and only me. I ask you for a last time to set him free."

Denis tried to calm him down but failed. Then he tried it with the truth. "Listen, if you hold on for just one more day, your pain will be over. It'll be like you've never met Sascha, you know? You can go on like before, be the glamorous centre of the gay world, fuck dozens of new guys each night. Virgins if you want. But please, hold on."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're under a magic spell. I beg you, go home and tomorrow evening will have forgotten everything. I promise." Denis send a silent prayer to his gods and to all witches in the world to make his words come true. But Carsten just laughed. He threw his head into his neck and laughed. "One of us is mad. I fear it's not me." He gave him another long glance. "If you won't give him up, I'll get him."

He poked his finger into Denis' breast. "I promise."

Sascha opened the door and froze. "Carsten! What you're doing here?" He quickly figured out the situation and stepped at Denis' side. "Don't dare to threaten him. It's solely my and your problem. He has nothing to do with it."

"So? And if you hadn't fallen in love with this ... beauty I wouldn't be alone. Do you know what you promised me?" He approached Sascha and tried to pull his arm. Sascha freed himself. Carsten tried again, this time around his waist, and Denis stepped between. It didn't take long before Carsten lay on the tiled floor, his body contorted, defeat by one of Denis' karate-holds. "Don't dare this ever again."

"Tell me you stopped loving me", Carsten whined.

"I stopped." Sascha bent over his body. "It doesn't mean you'll never find another. Jesus, Carsten! Never-ending love is something for children and dreamer, you can't promise. You just can hope and sometimes it happens. Don't force it and you'll be happy."

Carsten came to his feet and eyed both with a baleful glare. "You won't understand me", he muttered. Then he turned and vanished.

Sascha had never been so happy this entire year when the morning to the fateful day started. His heart jumped in his breast when he and Denis were on their way to the bookshop. But the rail station was overcrowded with people, annoyedly waiting for another train. "Some jerk is again laying on the tracks. Why do they always have to commit suicide in rush-hour, eh?"

"Get as much attention as you can", another said.

Carsten never showed up this day. Time approached closing hour and Sascha prepared for his big appearance. He pulled Denis close to "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone" and waited. Shortly before ten o'clock the blue haze swept from under the cover and it didn’t take long before a figure crystallized. But this time the fairy godmother had no similarity to that what she had been when Sascha had seen her first. She was large. Larger than he. And she had forgotten her funny hat with the twinkling stars. She was undefined, wavering, genderless. And she was angry. Her/his green-golden eyes pierced Sascha's. "It's too late, my friend."

"What too late? I'm on time. Today it's the 28th of February, exactly one year ago you granted me a wish I could cancel after I thought it over. Well I've thought it over and I wish to cancel my wish", Sascha said bravely.

"Quite right, boy." She/He pulled out a pink leather book and leafed the pages. "Let's see. 28th of February 2002. Sascha's wish might be granted after a year." He/She looked down at him again. "And how did you decide?"

"I ... I'd like to cancel ... as I've said."

"And I said it's too late. He's dead."

"Who's dead?"

The golden eyes flashed flames. "Humans are so stupid. Who could foresee, not even me. I'm not a crystal-ball-reader, you know. He was hopelessly in love with you. It's solely your fault."

Sascha's mouth fell open and so did Denis'.

"And what do you wish for now? That your first wish never happened?"

Sascha nodded, still with open mouth.

"You'd wish he would appear here right by your side, ignoring you as ever? But this time you wouldn't care because now you've found a lover for yourself, am I right?"

Sascha nodded.

"Right. But I can't save the dead ones. It was his free decision." He or She snapped shut the leather book and diminished to a reasonable height. "No happy-ending, boy."

Right he was. Christian stared into empty space. A giggle formed in his throat. Amazing. Just amazing.

He took his empty glass and swayed when he rose to his feet. Then he carried the manuscript to the fireside and tossed it among the cooled down ashes. He squatted down, watched the first tongues of fire embracing the paper sheets. They bent and hissed and crumbled.

He would have done the same if he was in Carsten's shoes. Perhaps everybody would have done it. But then, all he had to do was to go away to forget Sascha. Out of sight out of mind. Was love really so important?

The paper bent towards the title and name of the author. Made in Heaven by Tim Wendlandt. And what if Tim was right now in seventh heaven with Maxim? What if he had gone to Tim to celebrate the start of his new life? What if he would offer just right now his little arse for Tim to invade it? Break through the muscle and glide into the smooth, hot canal that was Christian’s own? Invaded by him so many times and not a single one of them Maxim had inhibitions that their sex-life could be too much, too often, too frantic, too soulless. It was certainly Tim's influence. Pah. He was really nothing. Just a half portion of a boy, a whiner and a nobody, compared to himself. And his biggest failure was he was in love with Maxim. If Tim didn't exist, Maxim would come back instead of listening to the insinuations of Satan. Why not do it like Carsten, he would have an easy job with Tim. Throw him for instance on the tracks of an arriving train... instead of killing himself. To commit suicide had become a boring game for Christian for he had attempted it too often.

He looked down at the insides of his wrists. Strange, Maxim had never noticed the thin, pale lines; the remnants of his attempting to bleed to death in a bathtub. How long ago was it? Five years, or six? Well, the lines were hardly to be seen, only if you know to look. The scars he carried upon his soul were invisible as well, but he felt them every day.

He still hadn't forgiven his mother that she went alone, leaving him here with his relentless father and a brother that was so far away. The time had gone when the twins had been inseparable and a broad gap had opened between them. A gap that eventually closed as the years went on. But there was always something between them. An unspoken jealousy that mother had preferred Christian to Martin.

Then he thought if he was about to bump Tim off, he could go on with each of them: Philipp, Gregor, even his brother Martin. All of them had been witnesses to his shame. If no one lived anymore then there was nobody to tell Maxim.

Tim's manuscript had burnt to grey-black flakes. Christian rose and went back into the bedroom. He saw the white rose with the dark red rims on the petals stuck behind Maxim’s icon from Russia. He certainly would come and get it, like the rest of his stuff. He just had to make sure he was at home. But how? Then he slapped his forehead. He just had to change the number-combination of the card which was used to enter the door. Maxim would be locked out and would be forced to ask at his office. Christian beamed.

And what are we going to do in the meantime with little Tim? Nothing so far, pillock. If you would do silly things with him, Maxim would never ever come back. So... you have to play it cool, reasonable and lovingly. Do as if you'd eaten chalk. And don't threaten Maxim!