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Part 1
‘Good morning, ladies,’ a cheerful, dark voice rang out through the passenger cabin of the Boeing 747 that would take off for Singapore in less than an hour. As if by remote control, the eyes of the four stewardesses turned to the imposing figure at the entrance. Daniel was beaming from ear to ear, even though he had just completed a strenuous flight from Kenya and had only gotten a few hours of sleep. ‘I see I'm late again, but you've got it under control without me. Right, girls?’ he remarked cheekily, grinning, and leaned relaxed against the cabin wall with his shoulder.

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All companies and institutions of real life appearing in this FF unfortunately do not belong to me. Therefore, I have only borrowed their names for this fan fiction. I do not make any money by mentioning them.
‘Hi, Daniel, what are you doing here?’ one of the stewardesses replied, surprised, and kissed him on both cheeks. ‘Shouldn't Madlen be flying with us?’ Then the young woman pulled him into a short embrace. “Kiky, my darling, it's great to see you again,” he replied, turning his head slightly towards the other crew members to answer the question about the whereabouts of the chief stewardess who was actually scheduled to fly with them.
‘I hope I'm not revealing too much of a secret,’ he smiled, ’but your front woman is pregnant and is now only allowed to work as ground crew. I only just found out myself and if I understood it right, then we'll probably be seeing a lot of each other from now on.’ Daniel now broke free from the embrace and greeted the other colleagues, all of whom he already knew from previous flights and for whom he would now take responsibility as head steward. He looked at his wristwatch and tapped it lightly with his finger. ‘Ladies, unfortunately we don't have much time left for a long chat. I think everyone knows what they have to do. Kiky and Sarah, please take over at the door and the rest of you make sure that the passengers sort themselves into their seats as quickly as possible. Daniel turned around, stowed his luggage and was already on his way to the kitchen to check the food trolley when something important occurred to him. ‘Oh, and I wanted to ask...’ he turned to his colleagues again. “I haven't had time to look at the papers yet. Who are we flying with today?’
‘Oliver Besson,” replied two of the young ladies at the same time, and immediately began to giggle at this coincidence.
‘Hmm,’ Daniel pursed his lips questioningly and frowned. “Oliver Besson? I've never heard of him. He must be new, but he sounds kind of French.” Daniel grinned. “I don't mind French if I don't necessarily have to speak or write it.” Kiky, who was standing right next to him in the kitchen folding napkins for first class, snorted with amusement.
‘You're impossible, Dan, but I don't think he's your type. I flew with him once and he is…’ Kiky peered around the corner down the aisle and made sure she could speak without being heard. “…a total asshole,” she quietly completed her sentence, but clearly enough for Daniel to understand.
‘I see,’ Dan smiled. “Did he want to get it on with you or what gave you that idea?’
‘Pff, get it on with,” Kiky whispered. ’I wouldn't let him get anywhere near me even if I was wearing an asbestos suit. He has the charm of a rattlesnake, and to flirt with him, you'd have to unfreeze him first. So far, he's managed to get one of the cabin crew ready on every flight, and last week, a first officer is even said to have left the cockpit crying.
‘Oh really?’ Daniel asked in astonishment. ’Who?’
‘You should actually know him, Dan... Micha Könneke. If I'm not mistaken, you had a brief affair with him once.’ Kiky looked at Daniel from the side, who now rolled his eyes in annoyance.
‘Nothing stays secret around here, does it? How did you find out about that again? You mean about Micha and me?’ Daniel had never made a secret of his homosexuality and all his colleagues, with whom he had more or less frequent contact, knew about it. The thing with Micha had really only been a one-night stand, but it seemed to interest everyone here anyway.
‘Oh come on, Dan,’ Kiky stroked his back conciliatorily. ’The word has got around, but that was probably exactly why the Besson beat Micha up so badly, saying that fags couldn't control their hormones and therefore had no business in the cockpit. So be careful when you meet the guy. He's not only inedible, but also indigestible.’ Daniel nodded sadly because there were obviously still people who thought of themselves as the pinnacle of creation and in whose vocabulary tolerance was not even in the rudiments.
‘Thanks for the tip, kid,’ he called after her, and before he could think about it any further, the first of the more than 200 passengers were already streaming into the plane. Daniel was in his element. Greeting passengers, helping with hand luggage, fighting the fear of flying with a little joke here and there, and even a little flirtation with young girls who threw admiring glances at him, he didn't stop. It was all part of his job, his dream job, which he loved more than anything.
An hour and a half later, the plane had reached its final cruising altitude, and all the passengers had been served breakfast and were munching away contentedly. So it was time for the cabin crew to take a breather too. There was just one task left to do, and Daniel had to take care of it himself. In the small kitchen, he studied the wish list of the cockpit crew and stocked the trays with fresh coffee, orange juice, crispy baked rolls, cheese and jam. Up to this moment, he just hadn't had time to take a closer look at the mysterious Captain Besson and at least introduce himself personally. He would do that right now, while he was at it. He would simply find a few nice words and probably discover that the man was not as terrible as the reputation that preceded him. So far, Dan had got along with every captain and first officer. In a good mood, he made his way to the front, balancing the two trays artfully like a circus performer over the heads of the passengers.
He took a deep breath as he approached the cockpit door and knocked politely before entering. The scene that met his eyes was no different from the thousands he had seen since becoming part of Lufthansa's flying personnel. Two men in white shirts, dark blue trousers and blue ties, busily operating buttons and levers, their eyes constantly flickering over countless displays to register even the slightest change.
‘Captain Besson,’ he addressed the dark-blond man in the pilot's seat, ’your breakfast.’ But instead of taking the tray from him with a grateful smile, as the first officer had done at that moment, the captain snapped at him harshly, without even turning his head or giving him a glance.
‘I hadn't asked for breakfast yet, young man. A plane like this doesn't fly itself, and besides...’ Abruptly, Captain Besson turned around in his chair and looked Dan, who was standing a little behind him, directly in the face. Dark brown eyes met frightened sky-blue ones. For a few seconds they just looked at each other, recognised each other and both felt as if an unknown force was catapulting them through space at the speed of light, so surreal was the situation.
‘Oliver,’ Daniel breathed, surprised and cautious, but he couldn't get a word out. Without comment, Oliver Besson took the tray from his boss's steward, swallowed the huge lump that had formed in his throat, and turned back to the front with a quiet “thank you”. Daniel was trembling with excitement, as if he had just encountered a ghost, and in a way he had. He didn't have to introduce himself again, because the man at the front knew him from long-forgotten teenage days, and he never in his life believed that they would meet again. Only back then, Oliver's name wasn't Besson, but Kaulfuss, and he was as far away from a cold-hearted, grumpy flight captain as the sun is from the moon.
And while Dan staggered back into the galley as if he were drunk and drank a large glass of water to calm down, Oliver Besson had switched on the autopilot and sat paralysed in his seat. For how many years of his life had he fought against the images in his head and the feelings on his skin, had tried to erase from his memory those measly three weeks that had questioned and confused so much. How many nights had he lain awake, trying to prevent the dreams that had haunted him ever since and made him hate himself. He just wanted to forget, to erase the events of that time from his life like a wrong result in a maths book. He had just realised how useless all his efforts had been when Daniel had stood before him again, completely unexpectedly, and the memory of that time had returned immediately and painfully. Oliver took a sip of orange juice, closed his eyes, resigned to his fate, and let his thoughts travel back to his school days, or more precisely to an actually quite normal day in September 11 years ago.
The school year had already started a few days ago and he had been glad that the summer holidays were finally over. There is nothing worse than spending weeks on end just with yourself when you don't have any good friends who might go swimming with you to the lake or camping for the weekend. But now he had returned to the familiar routine of school and homework and his little world was in order again. As he did every day, he strolled calmly into the school building on this fateful Wednesday and had not yet reached the first staircase when he received a rough push from behind and fell on his back on the stone floor, flailing his arms.
‘Oh sorry, little one,’ Daniel smiled at him kindly, easily put him back on his feet and patted his jacket a little to remove the dust he had collected during his involuntary contact with the ground. Stunned, he stared after him and for days the cheeky brown eyes wouldn't come out of his head. Daniel was new at school, just like him in his last year of school, and the more he found out about him in the days and weeks to come, the greater became the magical aura that surrounded him.
Daniel had apparently been expelled from various schools several times, and so that he would have any chance at all of passing his A-levels, his mother had decided to send him to live with his grandparents for his final year at school. The plan was to get him away from the big city and the supposedly bad influence it had on him. So Daniel had ended up here and he thought again of the shocked face of Rika, who lived in his immediate neighbourhood and often shared the way home with him, when she told him about Daniel's performance on the first day.
With a casual ‘Hi’, he had probably planted his 1.85 m astral body directly in front of the petite French teacher Fräulein Lemaire, completely obscuring her. ‘I'm Daniel Sommer, I'm from Hamburg and since that's obviously what interests you the most... My brown skin doesn't come from hours of orgies on an assitoaster, but is ingrown. My father must have missed the last subway back to the jungle 19 years ago and out of gratitude for a place to sleep, he left me there as a souvenir. So don't be surprised if I still look like I do in the middle of winter after three weeks of summer holidays, even in the middle of winter.’ The whispering had instantly died down and everyone had felt more or less caught. But Daniel wouldn't be Daniel if he hadn't added one more thing. Well aware of the sudden attention, he had let his eyes wander from one to the other, before finally adding with an amused grin: ‘Oh, and I wanted to say something before it finds its way as a nasty rumour through the bush radio... I'm gay and quite happy with it, although unfortunately I don't have a boyfriend at the moment. ’
‘Just imagine, Olli,’ Rika had excitedly told him the whole thing only a few hours later on the way home, “he's gay and just tells you that.” But not only Rika was deeply shocked. He had believed Daniel capable of anything, but GAY??? However, the longer he thought about it, the less it bothered him. On the contrary. Daniel, with his appearance that was so not at all gay, had completely confused his view of this species of people and it only made him more interesting. He was fascinated by his whole nature, by his exotic appearance with the caramel-coloured skin and the brown eyes and by the coolness with which he went through life.
Oliver opened his eyes and squinted at the sun, towards which they flew. Strangely enough, he had become calmer and calmer in the last few minutes. Daniel was here, very close to him, and all attempts to forget him had vanished into thin air in a second. All the images and feelings from back then were back again and clearer than ever. They literally pushed themselves forward, crawling out of the furthest corner of Oliver's soul with penetrating persistence, and he seemed powerless against them. He smiled sympathetically at himself when he thought about what a hopeless little creature he had been back then. A real bore, boring dark blond hair, boring light blue eyes, boring pale skin. A nerd with ever-sliding glasses that had to be pushed back into place every few minutes with a nudge of the right index finger, and whose report card showed excellent grades but who had no clue about real life. He was still a virgin back then because the girls had only ever seen him as a reliable homework deliverer and he hadn't had any time for them because of all the studying. He didn't even have to close his eyes to feel like he was that little inconspicuous teenager again, who no one noticed and who wouldn't have been missed if he hadn't been there on the last day of school together. But that day in particular had been branded into his memory.
It was already dark, but there was still a shimmering heat over the lake. Eleven chimes from far away unequivocally documented that the day was slowly but surely coming to an end. Not just any day in this early summer, which had once again brought no rain and on which instead the planet sun had heated the earth around the lake to a merciless 35 degrees. Not a day on which the graduating class of the Adam-Ries-Gymnasium had, as always, listlessly disappeared behind the large double doors of their venerable school. It was Saturday and today was the graduation ball. Their last day together in this life. After that, they would scatter to the four winds, pursue careers or not, and perhaps never see each other again.
As it did every year, the school had rented the excursion steamer with the beautiful name ‘Seeperle’, which had been converted into a restaurant and was moored securely on the shore of Kranichsee, to give the whole event a dignified setting. None of the two graduating classes had missed the target and so Director Knoche did not miss the opportunity to ask each of them to come to the front and congratulate them on their achievements. One after the other was called to the front by name.
‘Daniel Sommer, Kathleen Munk, Kerstin Rumpf, Erik Lehmann and Michael Griesing,’ it resounded through the hall and during the enumeration the mentioned graduates had already gathered on the small flower-decorated stage.
There he was, the guy he so admired, who he even found beautiful and enchanting in a way, and whom he envied because, despite his skin colour and the fact that he was gay and stood by it, he always seemed to be the centre of attention. He was popular and accepted, and boys and girls flocked around him like a five-litre bucket of sangria. He had been shifting uneasily on his chair all evening, hoping that Daniel would eventually notice him, but Daniel seemed to be ignoring him completely. Sad and with pursed lips, he tried to capture the images in his mind anyway, because tomorrow Daniel would be history for him.
Hours later, and with no success, he had simply had enough. He was not a fan of heavy drinking and would have given the girl who managed to drag him onto the dance floor a medal for bravery. He wanted to give in to the pressure of his bladder one last time and then follow his parents home, who had left long ago. As if invisible, he snaked his way through the crowds to the toilet and from a distance he could clearly make out the slurring voice of the biggest idiot of his year... Lars Gröger.
‘Well Schokocrossie,’ he purred, “you've finally made it... hic... I didn't know you needed A levels... hic... if you want to shoot gay porn.” He had carefully opened the toilet door and remained standing in the washroom, from where he could only hear but not see.
‘Hey, Gröger, get out of my orbit,’ another, much deeper voice replied just seconds later. “Daniel,” immediately shot through his mind and he panicked.
‘Ohhh... the lady's offended. You haven't had a willing arse today, have you?‘ teased Gröger, without even remotely realising what thin ice he was skating on. But to his great astonishment, Daniel was still incredibly calm.
‘Shut up, dude, and piss off at last, otherwise...’, he merely heard him say with a distinctly warning voice.
‘Or what?’ Gröger interrupted him provocatively. ’You want to stone me with rose-coloured cotton wool balls? In front of a guy who fucks with guys because he can't get it up with a cute girl, …… hick …… I don't have to be afraid.’ He was still standing in the washroom, holding his mouth in shock so as not to make a sound, when there was a terrible crash and clatter. He trembled in fear and didn't dare to breathe, because he thought this Gröger was capable of anything. It wouldn't have been the first time that he had used brute force to end an argument. But only seconds later, Daniel ran past him. Like a shadow and without looking back. He cautiously peered around the corner and saw Lars Gröger hanging between the urinals, bleeding from the mouth and nose. He didn't even dream of helping this piece of dirt. He had often enough been the victim of this intellectual low-flyer himself in recent years and felt it was more of a late satisfaction to leave him lying there so helplessly.
Quietly and as inconspicuously as ever, he crept outside. He hadn't heard or seen anything in an emergency and really only wanted one thing: to see how Daniel was doing. It wasn't long before he saw him sitting in the sand a little further from the ‘Seeperle’. With his heart pounding, he crept up until he was barely a metre away from Daniel.
‘Captain, can I tear you away from your thoughts for a moment? I need to go to the toilet,’ Oliver heard the voice of his first officer as if through cotton wool and was slightly startled. He hadn't even noticed how far he had already drifted off and hardly noticed what was happening around him.
‘Yes, sure,‘ he mumbled in reply and rubbed his face with both hands.
‘Are you feeling unwell, Captain? Shall I get you something to drink?’ The co-pilot looked at him with concern. Captain Besson had a reputation as a hardliner, but the picture he saw here was anything but that. But Oliver didn't want to show any weakness, any emotion, or anything else for that matter. He called himself to order internally, tautened his body and straightened his tie.
‘Hmm yes, a bottle of water and a glass wouldn't be bad,’ he agreed. “Actually, you should have stewardesses available for such things, but nowadays it's just getting harder and harder to find good personnel,” he added sarcastically and in a nitpicky tone. He switched the autopilot off again and forced himself not to think about what had happened just two minutes ago like a film in front of his mind's eye.
Daniel, on the other hand, gave himself up to it. He had grabbed his paperwork, retired to the seats in the last row available to the crew, and plugged his mp3 player into his ear. No one would disturb him for the next two hours, because most of the passengers were asleep or watching a film and the occasional top-up of drinks would be handled by his four ladies. He had even managed to work through the first two pages of the flight log with a reasonable degree of concentration, but the encounter with his past, which was sitting in the cockpit of this aircraft in the form of Oliver Besson, kept his thoughts wandering. It had been the shock of his life when this narrow-minded guy had suddenly turned around, and a single glance into those light blue eyes had been enough to know who he had in front of him. Oliver Besson, the terror of the crane fleet, was none other than the little frightened Oliver who had followed him to the beach shortly after he had beaten up that hollow body Gröger. Daniel shook his head almost amusedly and the memories of that time came back to life for him, too.
‘Can I sit with you?’ Olli asked almost submissively, as he had been standing behind me for quite a while and probably had to talk himself into it first. I had often seen this unassuming creature lurking around me, but that evening he seemed to have taken on buckets of courage. There was no need to answer, because as soon as Olli had asked, he was already sitting next to me looking at my hand, which was damaged from the blow
‘Well, nothing's broken,’ he realised after a while, but still didn't stop holding my hand and repeatedly stroking the reddened skin with his thumb as if to comfort me. At some point I asked him why he had come out here at all and was worried about my hand, and the only reaction I got was an embarrassed smile. Oliver had beautiful eyes, which he unfortunately hid behind glasses that didn't fit or suit him, and his shy, almost timid manner somehow tickled my ego. He later told me about his parents, who were filthy rich and both had great jobs, but also had just as little time for him. When I asked him what he was planning to do after graduating from high school, he explained that he had applied to a lot of different courses but had not yet been accepted anywhere. He would have loved to study mechanical engineering or aerospace engineering, he said. He was so damn honest and open that I also told him things about myself at some point. About my single mother, who didn't always have it easy with me, and my father, whom I only knew from photos. But something in me also told me pretty quickly that he was actually interested in something completely different, and I wasn't really surprised when he suddenly asked me out of the blue how it feels to kiss a man. He couldn't look at me when he asked me this question and instead scratched nervously with a stick in the sand.
‘Do you really want to know?’ I provoked him, waiting for the moment when he would raise his head and look me in the face.
‘Hmm,’ was the response I got after what seemed like an eternity, and it was the reaction I had hoped for. I didn't want to take him by surprise or take advantage of him, but how could I explain to him how it feels? So I carefully pulled his glasses off his nose and watched his questioning eyes, in which I could read so much. Curiosity, fear, maybe even panic, but definitely also the will to embrace everything that was about to happen to him. I stroked his cheek ever so gently, felt his pulse skyrocket under my fingertips and moved my face closer and closer until only a sheet of paper would have fit between us.
‘You're really sure you want to know what it feels like?’ I murmured right at his lips, giving him one last chance to back out, but Olli just swallowed and nodded slightly. Not even a second later, I kissed him and even though Oliver wasn't really my type and I didn't even know him well, this kiss was different from all the kisses I had received before. It was so innocent and embarrassed, reserved and vulnerable and Oliver had lips that were softer than anything I knew. It was amazing, but unfortunately much too short. But it seemed to be enough for Oliver.
‘Um, well, I don't think I'm gay,’ he stammered shortly after I moved away from him, and somehow I hadn't expected anything else from him either. It was just a simple kiss. Nothing earth-shattering, and for both of us it didn't seem to have much significance at that moment.
And yet, just a few moments later, I asked him if he would go swimming with me at the lake the next day. He agreed somewhat hesitantly, which I just put down to the fact that he probably hadn't heard such a question in years.
To be honest, I hadn't expected him to come at all, but somehow I was still pleased when he came cycling around the corner at the agreed time. He was so different from the guys in my age group, and even though he would probably never make the cover of Men's Health with his looks, he at least had an incredible inner beauty. He was intelligent, curious, open-minded and kind, but also shy, often very embarrassed and insecure. Without either of us meaning to, Oliver awakened my protective instinct, and as soon as he was near me, I felt an urgent need to anticipate his every wish.
We spent the whole afternoon at the small forest lake, laughed a lot, talked about a thousand things and didn't even notice how a moderate thunderstorm was brewing over us. It was only when the first raindrops hit our hot skin that we jumped on our bikes.
We were already completely soaked when we finally arrived at my grandparents' house, and to this day I still can't say what came over me to just take Oliver inside instead of saying goodbye to him and letting him drive home. He looked like a drowned rat and I felt so sorry for him, especially since a caring grandmother would be waiting for ME, who would immediately make me a hot tea and lay dry clothes out for me. And HIM? He would unlock the front door and loneliness would inevitably have him again.
So I pulled him through the courtyard gate and pushed him in front of me. I just didn't want him to go. Grandma really did her job justice, immediately putting her large milk pot on the fire to make us cocoa and advising us to take a hot shower very quickly. Olli kept pushing his glasses up and down; a sign that he was tense from head to toe and that the situation was completely overwhelming him. He stood in the hallway, dripping, looking at me with his big blue eyes, and at that moment I actually thought he was kind of cute.
‘Do you want to take a shower, too?’ I asked him, but he just waved me away.
‘You go first,’ he let me go first and stood awkwardly in my room under the roof as I picked out a few things for him that were a bit tight for me and that I thought would definitely fit Oliver.
However, I hadn't been under the warm drizzle for a minute when suddenly the bathroom door opened. I wiped the water and foam out of my eyes and squinted through the shower door, watching him.
‘What's going on now?’ I mumbled to myself as I watched Olli take off his wet clothes one by one, dropping them carelessly on the floor, still not sure what he wanted to do next. He stared at his reflection in the mirror above the washbasin for a few seconds, trying to read his own mind, and his whole body seemed to be shaking.
Daniel opened his eyes briefly, took a quick glance over the rows of seats to make sure that his crew was taking care of the passengers with ease, loosened his tie a little and looked out at the mountains of clouds they were flying through. His heartbeat had noticeably begun to race since the images from that time had passed him again, and somehow they couldn't be stopped. 10 years had passed since then, but Daniel felt as if it had only been yesterday. He felt warm water on his skin and without meaning to, his thoughts were already far away in the past again.
Olli carefully pushed the shower screen open a little so that I could just see his face through the hot steam.
‘Can... can I shower with you?’ he mumbled, embarrassed, and his eyes seemed to want to quickly determine the number of floor tiles, so spellbound were they staring towards the centre of the earth.
‘Of course. Come in,’ I replied in the best conversational tone, slid a little to the side and fervently hoped to take away some of his fear of a situation that he had manoeuvred himself into.
I didn't understand his behaviour myself. After the kiss the night before, he had still claimed not to be gay, and yet he had pestered me with questions all day long that you only ask when you are still searching for yourself. He wanted to know how I realised that I was attracted to men and how the people around me reacted to it. How I would manage to be so open about it and whether I had ever tried what it was like with a girl. These were all little things that I had already worked out for myself at the age of 16. And now he was standing in front of me. Naked as God created him, and terribly excited.
Olli was a little shorter than me, maybe 10 cm, slim and not very muscular, and his dark blond hair stood on end in all directions from the rain. I didn't want to, but this body, still so boyish at 18, somehow mercilessly turned me on. Like a cursed chewing gum, my gaze stuck to him, scanning every square centimetre of skin and about to save the images for eternity under the heading ‘untouchable’ when a strange pale white hand was placed on my chest. The contrast was breathtaking and just from this touch I had the feeling that my heart would break through my ribs at any moment and jump around the shower cubicle.
‘Um, Olli,’ I addressed my counterpart somewhat confused and pointed to his hand on my skin. ’Did you want to wash me now?’ Olli looked up at me without saying a word, and the colour of his irises was no longer light blue like a bright summer sky, but more like the colour of the sea over the Great Barrier Reef. Very slowly he slid towards me and with every centimetre his hand crept away from my chest and into the back of my neck. The distance between us narrowed more and more until not even a drop of water could have found its way between us. I felt his racing pulse and the tremor of his body directly on my skin, but I was unable to stop him. It felt good and somehow right and no matter what had prompted Olli to do this, I wanted it just as much as he did at that moment and just wanted to enjoy it.
I gently wrapped my arms around his slender waist and stroked his back reassuringly until he closed his eyes in relaxation and our lips met for a second gentle and somehow playful kiss. And just like the first time, the world around us seemed to stand still, it seemed to rain stars and a rainbow stretched around the whole earth.
Loud clattering from the galley brought Daniel back to the here and now. He looked at his watch and then at the monitor in front of him. They had already left the Arabian Peninsula behind them and thus almost half the distance. He rose lazily from his seat and stretched carefully. At least he would serve lunch and thus relieve his girls a little. Almost apologetically, he looked around the corner and watched Kiky, who was just about to put the meals for first class into the hot air oven.
‘Can you manage on your own or is there anything I can do to help?’ he murmured, embarrassed, before taking a bottle of water and taking a big gulp.
‘I'm fine, Dan. I can see that you haven't been fully focused since you brought the dragon over there its breakfast. Did something happen? Did it give you a hard time?’ Kiky sounded genuinely concerned. Ever since their training with Lufthansa, Daniel had been like a big brother to her, who she never had. Somehow they shared a common destiny, because she, too, could tell at a glance that one of her parents was not of European but of Asian origin, and this circumstance had really bonded them over the three years.
‘He tried, Kiky,’ Daniel squeezed out, turned around, lightly knocked on the storage cupboard and then leaned his forehead on it. The whole situation was so adventurous that he could hardly believe it himself. ‘He tried,’ he repeated, and it sounded so excited, as if he was reliving that moment of terror second by second, ‘until he realised who was behind him, and I realised WHO was sitting there in front of me.’ Kiky was surprised.
‘Didn't you say this morning that you've never heard of him? At least that's how it sounded, Dan.’ A soft “pling” indicated that the first menus were hot enough, and while Kiky was waiting for an answer from Daniel, she stacked the heated plates back onto the corresponding trays in the trolley and pushed the next ones into the oven.
Daniel sighed audibly. ‘It's a long story, Kiky. I know the guy sitting there, but I have no idea what he's done to the Oliver I remember. We went to school together, you know, graduated in the same year, but he wasn't called Besson back then. That's why I didn't recognise him by name.’ The dark-haired man shook his head in despair. ‘But I don't know what happened to him, Kiky. The way he's acting up front, he's not like that, believe me. The Oliver I know is kind and polite and more timid than quick-tempered. I just don't understand it.’
‘Hmm,’ Kiky murmured, not really knowing what to answer. “I'll go and serve lunch. Will you help me with the drinks?” she said, trying to distract Dan a little from his problems when the small loudspeaker in the galley started to buzz slightly.
‘Well, whoever is hanging around in the kitchen right now...’ Captain Besson reported from the cockpit in a nasty tone of voice. ’My first officer and I would also like to have something for lunch at some point and I would be very grateful if I didn't have to send you an extra invitation for it. End.’ The loudspeaker was silent again and not only Daniel stared at it as if he couldn't believe what he had just heard.
‘So much for the theory that Oliver, as you call him, is actually kind and polite and shy. He's a creep, Dan,’ Kiky summed up quietly, ’and now come on, otherwise the food will be cold again before we've served it to the passengers.’ As if in a trance, Daniel pulled the drinks trolley out of its holder and pushed it in front of him down the first-class aisle. It was all just a bit too much for him.
Normally, this is when he would make his big entrance, because when you ask each passenger directly at their seat about their requirements and serve them immediately, a very personal relationship develops for a few minutes. You chat, flirt if the opportunity arises, answer questions and listen to the stories of the people who have been brought together by fate in this narrow aircraft tube for a few hours. Daniel loved this interaction and especially on the routes he travelled frequently, the passengers knew him, greeted him with a handshake like an old friend and were happy when he also remembered their names. But today was different and Daniel had trouble concentrating. In a few moments he would have to bring lunch to the cockpit and he had no idea how he should behave towards Olli.
Completely absent-minded, he loaded the trays and put the two different menus in the oven. It was not only Lufthansa policy that the two pilots should never be given the same meal, so that in the event of food poisoning they would at least not be completely incapacitated and end up sailing through the air without a pilot. Not even the desserts could be identical, so Daniel decided on a vanilla quark for the first officer's tray and a bowl of fresh sweet cherries for Oliver. Once again, the oven responded with a soft ‘pling’ and still feeling insecure, Dan made his way to the cockpit. However, just as he raised his hand to knock, the door opened and the first officer pushed past him.
‘I have to take something away before I can stuff myself again,’ he smiled apologetically and held the door open for Daniel. “But you can turn it off if you like. I'll be right back.” The door slammed shut behind him and Daniel's heart was racing like a turbo. Shaking, he placed one tray on the small shelf next to the co-pilot's seat and handed the other to Oliver.
‘Your meal, Captain Besson,’ he addressed him, without getting the slightest reaction at first. Captain Besson simply looked straight ahead, fixated on an imaginary point in the infinity of the sky in front of him.
‘Would you take the tray from me, Captain, please?’ Daniel tried again, taking another step closer to the seat so that he could feel the excited warmth radiating from the dark-blond pilot.
‘You used to call me Olli, Daniel. It was a long time ago, I know, but... I'm sorry.’ Disturbed, Oliver turned around, reached for the tray and a hint of nervousness flitted across his face. Quickly enough for Daniel to see it before Olli turned back around. The head steward swallowed and everything inside of him seemed to turn inside out at the sight. Oliver Besson had let him see behind the scenes very briefly, had shown him that he was still there, still the Oliver of yesteryear.
‘What are you sorry for, Olli?’ he whispered as softly and gently as he could. “Are you sorry about what happened between us back then, or are you sorry that we met again here and I had to see what you've become?” Oliver swallowed and rummaged in his pocket for a handkerchief.
‘I... we... it's not that easy, Dan,’ it crept dryly and almost choked over his lips. “Let's talk about it tonight, okay?” He looked at Daniel with a questioning look on his face as the door opened again behind him and the co-pilot entered the cockpit. But before Daniel could say anything, an incredible transformation took place before his eyes. Oliver grew several centimetres in his seat as he tightened his whole posture and a certain coldness and arrogance returned to his face.
‘I won't need you anymore, Mr Sommer,’ he let Daniel know briefly, followed by a frosty: ’You can go back to your work then.’ Daniel turned around and felt as if he had just jumped into a tub of ice cubes. Stunned, he put his hand on the door handle as Oliver turned around to him again. ‘Oh, Mr Sommer... I wanted to say thank you for giving me the cherries. It somehow brings back old memories of a happy and very beautiful day long ago.’ Daniel's confusion increased more and more. He had put the cherries on the tray rather unconsciously, but Olli probably thought more of their cherry-picking battle in his grandmother's garden, at the end of which they both ended up completely dirty and sticky in the small tree house.
In any case, as soon as Daniel had left, Captain Besson collapsed into his seat, exhausted, and listlessly picked at his food. His carefully constructed façade, built up over years, was worth no more than a damn in Daniel's presence. In his presence, his body just wanted to be weak again, to snuggle up in his arms and let him stroke it reassuringly to sleep. Oliver hated himself again for it, hated his body, which reacted so unmistakably to Daniel and which he could only control with difficulty. And he hated himself for offering a clarifying conversation tonight.
Half an hour later, Daniel asked Kiky to pick up the used dishes from the cockpit with the words, ‘I'll go crazy if I have to go in there again,’ and Kiky did him a favour, even though she couldn't really understand why Daniel, of all people, who was usually bursting with self-confidence, was now keeping a low profile. Daniel had already retreated back to his office corner when Kiky came back and dropped onto the seat next to him.
‘You used to love each other very much, didn't you?’ she murmured without looking at him. Daniel's head flew around and his eyes narrowed to slits.
‘What makes you think that?’ “It wasn't like that,” he snapped at Kiky, who was caught red-handed. The dark-haired beauty turned to him with her whole body and pushed one of her legs up onto the seat.
‘Oh? Then how was it?’ She asked defiantly and crossed her arms over her chest. ’Captain Besson's disappointed look spoke volumes when I stood in front of him and wanted his tray back and not you, and even his usual gruff manner couldn't hide that, Daniel.’
‘He's not gay, Kiky,’ Dan protested. ’He never was and he never will be. He just wanted to experiment a bit back then, maybe just to know what it was like with a guy, or heaven knows why we got involved with each other. I don't know, but I'm pretty sure there were no feelings on his part.’ Kiky lowered her arms again and placed a hand trustingly on Daniel's thigh.
‘And you? Was he just a toy for you, too?’ Daniel shook his head in resignation and buried his face in his big hands.
‘He was never a toy, but I can't say that I was in love with him back then either. Do you know what I mean? At least in the beginning, I never had butterflies in my stomach when he was around, but I missed him terribly when he wasn't. He wasn't the dream prince that makes your mouth water and you start drooling when he shows up somewhere, but I somehow felt at home around him, I could talk and laugh with him and just be myself.’ Daniel took a noisy breath and looked Kiky in the face.
‘I loved him, but unfortunately I only realised that when we had long since said goodbye to each other forever, because my way led to Frankfurt and his to Bremen.’
‘And what's left of that feeling in your case?’ Kiky didn't let up. The friends looked into each other's eyes for a few seconds and Dan knew exactly that he could tell Kiky everything and confide in her, yes, he even had to, because she would see it on his face if he kept something from her. But what should he tell her?
‘I don't know, little one,’ he shrugged helplessly. ’Right now I feel somehow completely empty and numb, and if I hadn't quit smoking six years ago, I'd be begging you for a fag right now. I don't know what to think, Kiky, and I don't know what to do. You should have seen him earlier when I brought him lunch. He actually asked me to call him again the way I used to, when the cutting wind was briefly out to the toilet, he used the familiar form of address, apologised for something and offered me a chat tonight, and for a brief moment I really had the impression that everything between us was back to how it was back then.’ Daniel was still shaking his head in disbelief.
‘And as soon as the co-pilot was back, the magic was gone. Right?’ the brown-eyed stewardess added. The dark-haired chief steward snorted contemptuously.
‘You obviously know him better than I do. Anyway, it's a mystery to me why he puts on such a show. We were friends once, damn it, even if it was in a very bizarre way.’ Kiky smiled gently, reached for Daniel's hand and squeezed it lightly.
‘Maybe you can't understand it yet, darling, but just try to put yourself in his shoes for a moment. He has a reputation to lose, a reputation as an arrogant bastard and a homophobe, and I bet he's even more desperate than you are right now because he has even less of an idea of how to deal with the situation.’ With her last words, she slowly peeled herself out of the seat, smoothed her skirt and fixed a cheeky, pitch-black strand of her long hair, which had come loose from its anchoring, close to her head again. ‘You said that there was never any feeling on his part,’ she whispered, already half-way to the door, ’but there's a beautiful Asian saying: Sometimes you hate the one you love because he's the only one who can really hurt you!’
‘You and your oriental wisdom,’ Daniel smiled, but... He gazed pensively out of the window and looked at the deep blue of the Indian Ocean that spread out like a carpet below them. ’What if those slanted-eyed people who came up with that saying weren't so far off?’ What if I completely misjudged Olli back then and what if my long-repressed feelings for him come back?’ he seriously considered, but only half a minute later he pushed all these thoughts aside angrily. He was convinced that he had never been more than a superficial friend to Oliver. They had had fun together for one summer, and Olli hadn't been keen on deepening the relationship or maintaining it over a distance of kilometres.
Daniel rose and tried to free himself from all the thoughts that had been circling around the pilot in the cockpit for hours. Olli had recognised and noticed him, but that was it, and no matter how hard he racked his brains, nothing would change. He strolled slowly along the aisle towards the kitchen, saying a word here and there to the passengers, who were now visibly exhausted from the long flight and found it increasingly difficult to sit comfortably in their seats and let the in-flight entertainment wash over them. No matter how beautiful Singapore was, but almost 12 hours of flight and six hours of time difference were simply exhausting and even the small ‘distraction manoeuvres’ of the crew in the form of various meals no longer helped.
But even the longest flight comes to an end eventually, and Daniel and his girls, along with the cockpit crew, left the plane shortly before 11 p.m. local time, feeling just as exhausted as the passengers. As always, they would spend the night at the Le Meridien Changi Hotel, which was a few kilometres from the airport but had its own shuttle bus for transfers. The Le Meridien had four stars and really everything you needed for a pleasant holiday and was right in the city centre, but the seven Germans, who would only stay for one night anyway, didn't really feel like getting to know Singapore's nightlife after such a long journey. Tired, they all dragged their suitcases behind them through the balmy tropical night, and not even Captain Besson had the energy for any snappy remarks. He hardly spoke a word worth mentioning to the crew anyway, and even stood a little apart when the whole troop, despite the exertions of the last few hours, gathered happily chatting around the hotel counter to fill out the check-in papers. If he hadn't been wearing the same Lufthansa uniform, it wouldn't even have been noticed that he was part of the team. Only now and then did Daniel steal a glance at him, without Olli reacting in any way. It hurt to be ignored like that, but for Dan it brought back the distance he had hoped for, along with the disappointment.
‘Shall we meet in the restaurant in half an hour?’ The chief steward looked questioningly around the small group before they left the lift and went to their rooms, and received a general murmur of agreement in return. The food on the plane was certainly filling, but as a rule, when the crews had to spend the night abroad, they still went somewhere to eat a cosy meal, chat and let the day come to an end, which was often so packed with experiences that you couldn't just jump into bed and close your eyes. Daniel certainly couldn't, and he was glad to see not only his girls as soon as he entered the hotel restaurant after 45 minutes, freshly showered and in civilian clothes, but also the first officer. He had already flown with Sebastian Schneidewind a few times, but they hadn't gotten past the ‘you’ so far, even though the co-pilot was probably at least three to four years younger than he was.
‘Well, ladies,’ Daniel said, rubbing his hands together in joyful anticipation as he approached the table. “I see that I'm the last to leave again, but I really hope that you have left me something tasty.” With long strides, he headed for the buffet and, without much hesitation, filled a few small bowls with all kinds of exotic delicacies.
‘You're brave!’ the first officer remarked immediately, when he caught a glimpse of Daniel's tray, with which he came back to the table. The chief steward smiled. There were always colleagues who didn't know about his love of foreign food and were amazed at how naturally he ate the most extraordinary delicacies.
‘First of all, my name is Daniel,’ grinned the dark-skinned man friendly and shook hands with Sebastian Schneidewind. ’I've wanted to do that for a long time, and since we're now sitting at the table together and we're all on a first-name basis, I'll just offer you the same, and as for courage...’ Dan lifted a dark green okra pod with two fingers and, as he sat down again, let it slide pleasurably into his mouth. ‘It doesn't have much to do with courage, Sebastian,’ he explained to the fascinated co-pilot. ‘You just have to know a few basic rules for each country and maybe be a little more tolerant and open-minded than a normal German tourist, and then a whole new world opens up to you.’ Daniel spread out a large napkin, nonchalantly stuffed one corner of it into his neckline, and the sight of it caused his girls at the table to break out into slight laughter.
‘What?‘ he raised his eyebrows half amused and half punishingly.
‘You look like you're about to be served a grilled elephant, and in one piece,’ Sarah giggled, amused, but Dan didn't let the stewardesses' taunts bother him and turned back to Sebastian.
‘Don't listen to the women! They haven't got a clue,’ he explained. “If you want to eat this,” he pointed to the larger bowl in front of him, ’then you just have to be prepared. The stuff is called laksa and as far as I know, there are different recipes for this dish, Malaysian and Singaporean variations and so on. You take a bowl, like I did earlier, grab whatever you like from the buffet, like vegetables, eggs, crab meat, etc., whatever you like, and then you let the cook add noodles and this soup. There's an awful lot of coconut milk in it, but I love this stuff, even though you're always in danger of quickly getting Montezuma's revenge from it because it goes off so quickly. Besides,’ Daniel fished around in the bowl with a spoon and fork, “you shouldn't eat it if you're wearing something light, because the stuff splatters worse than spaghetti or you just tie an oversized bib around yourself.” He pointed to the napkin in front of his stomach and the splatters that were already on it. ’See? I would have had all that on my shirt.’
‘And what is this?’ Sebastian asked curiously, pointing to a plate with lots of little wooden skewers.
‘That's satay. Chicken, to be precise. Would you like to try some?’ Daniel was in his element again. Explaining the world to other people was something he did naturally, and he didn't make any distinction between a passenger and a first officer of Lufthansa, as in this case. Sebastian took a skewer and dipped it carefully into the peanut sauce that was standing right next to it.
‘Don't worry. It's not spicy. Just a little savoury,’ Dan reassured him, chuckling quietly as he noticed his insecurity.
‘Tastes kind of delicious,’ Sebastian gasped for air and opened his mouth wide as if a tongue of flame would shoot out of it any second. “But what's the difference between hot and spicy? I don't see any.” Dan now laughed out loud and pushed a small bowl of curry towards the co-pilot.
‘You would notice the difference at the latest when you tasted it. So when a Singaporean says something is ‘spicy’, it doesn't mean it's spicy, it means it's really hot. The term ‘hot’ is reserved for dishes that make the common European wimp spit fire. Take that from someone who likes spicy food.’
‘Is there anything here that you haven't tried before?’ Sebastian wanted to know, still fanning himself with the air. Dan thought about this for a moment while he tinkled his taste buds with the curry “very hot”. He had already tasted all sorts of things and even nibbled on chicken feet and crunchy roasted grasshoppers, but there was one thing he would never eat again.
‘There is a fruit here called durian that looks like an oversized melon with a scaly skin and that stinks for several hundred metres downwind even when unopened. In Singapore, it is therefore even forbidden to transport this thing on the underground. Some Singaporeans love them, some hate them, and I will never touch them again, I swear on everything that is sacred to me, because they taste like they smell, namely like natural gas with a pinch of turpentine.’ Daniel shuddered at the thought of this mistake, which he would probably never forget for the rest of his life.
Actually, he was already quite full, but his favourite dessert would still fit, he decided spontaneously, when the last grain of rice had landed in his stomach. The evening had been very relaxed so far and somehow he had skilfully suppressed Olli's presence here in the hotel. However, just as he was returning from the buffet with a large bowl of red rubies, a type of shaved water ice garnished with red water chestnuts and topped off with a large amount of coconut milk, the restaurant door opened and Olli came in. He eyed Dan up and down, letting his gaze sweep contemptuously across the table where his colleagues were sitting, before demonstratively sitting down at the other end of the restaurant, at the bar. For Daniel, this moment was like a stab in the heart. Oliver didn't give the impression that he could even vaguely remember his own offer of a conversation. On the contrary. He avoided every eye contact and every movement on his face that could have indicated what he was feeling deep inside. Daniel thought feverishly and before he sat down on his chair again, he exchanged a few quick glances with Kiky, who encouraged him without words to approach Captain Besson on his own initiative. For another moment, Daniel looked a little unsteady and struggling, but somehow at least his tongue seemed to have made up its mind long ago.
‘I hope you'll excuse me for a moment,’ he heard himself say, and knew that there was no turning back now. ’There's one more thing I have to sort out with the captain. Don't wait up for me. I don't know how long it will take, so I'll say good night now.’ He lightly tapped his fist on the table and clasped the bowl of Red Rubies with his left hand. The eyes that looked after him in amazement as he made his way through the restaurant burned holes in his shirt, and never before in his life had he felt so uncomfortable and observed. Even his driving test many years ago had been a breeze in comparison. His heart was beating like crazy in his chest and his skin seemed to be vibrating with nervousness. Olli hadn't noticed that Daniel was on his way over, and didn't do so until the brown-eyed Stewart was standing right next to him. He was slightly startled when a hand suddenly touched his shoulder, although he could almost guess that it was Daniel, because at this late hour there were hardly any guests left in the restaurant, and certainly none who could send so much adrenaline through his body with just a gentle touch. Only Daniel Sommer could do that.
‘Can I sit with you for a moment?’ he asked promptly, and Oliver had barely nodded hesitantly before the hand had already disappeared from his shoulder and pulled the bar stool next to him over.
‘Why didn't you come to our table?’ was Dan's first question, as he rested his forearms on the counter and tried to calmly slurp his ice cream, which was now liquefying more and more. Oliver took a quick sip of the outrageously expensive whiskey and hardly dared to turn his head for fear of looking into those chocolate-brown eyes again that had thrown him off course so much this morning.
‘I didn't want to disturb your intimate circle,’ he dodged in monosyllables and rather dismissively.
‘That's an answer, but not a reason, Oliver. You're avoiding me and all I wanted to do was talk to you,’ Dan persisted. “After all, we haven't seen each other in almost ten years. You can't have been living in a vacuum all this time.” Oliver snorted discontentedly and put the glass to his lips again.
‘Then say what you want to know?’
‘Come on, Olli, don't make it so difficult for us and don't give me the ‘my house, my car and my horse’ speech, because I'm not interested in that. Just tell me a little about yourself.’ Dan had finished his ice cream sundae, pushed it over to the bartender and exchanged it for a Singapore Sling. This classic cocktail with little alcohol, which was invented sometime at the beginning of the 20th century in a hotel very close by and which Charlie Chaplin is said to have eagerly sipped, tasted better to him on such a warm night than pure whiskey, the way Olli drank it.
‘There's not much to tell, Dan. My life is as interesting and exciting as that of a Roman snail.’ The pilot's gaze into his glass became more and more resigned the more he sensed Dan's presence next to him. His old life, his childhood and youth, was just about to catch up with him and apart from an inner resistance, he didn't have much to counter it with. He felt Daniel's eyes on his profile only too clearly. The only eyes that would be able to see behind the façade, and against which he felt so incredibly defenceless. ‘And what about you?’ he went on the offensive. ‘How did you end up at Lufthansa, anyway? Didn't you want to study something in the hotel business?’
‘Well,’ Daniel grinned, ’that's how life goes. I started an apprenticeship in hotel management in Frankfurt because I wanted a solid foundation for my studies, but then I fell unhappily in love with a guy from my apprenticeship year and somehow that totally undermined me. Anyway, I quit the apprenticeship after a year and a half and started the training at Lufthansa. Somehow I was on the run and being a steward seemed to me a suitable profession to reconcile all my ambitions. I seem to have done everything right, because they took me on straight after my training and three years ago I was promoted to Maître de Cabine.’
‘I see. And otherwise?’ Olli asked, trying to sound as bored as possible. He didn't want to show Dan how much curiosity had been plaguing him since they had looked into each other's eyes again, not for the world.
‘What else? You mean my love life?’ The dark blond pilot stared into his glass again as if spellbound, only nodded slightly and hoped that Daniel wouldn't tell him that he had been in a happy relationship for many years. Even if he still couldn't admit it to himself, that was definitely the last thing he wanted to hear. But Daniel was able to reassure him deeply without knowing it, and secretly he was even pleased about this question.
‘I couldn't, Olli, even if that sounds kind of stupid now. There was the odd affair that sometimes even lasted a few weeks or months, but there is only one person in the world with whom I would have been willing to get involved completely, whom I even really loved, at least I think so. But in any case, he meant a lot to me. Unfortunately, I only realised it much too late and there was no turning back. Besides, he's straight.’ It was like a wink with a whole factory of fence posts, but Olli was so busy keeping up his cool mask that he didn't even begin to realise that he himself was meant by this hint. He just shook his head regretfully.
‘But at least the sun has risen for you,’ Daniel chatted on, increasingly relaxed, and pointed to the ring on Olli's hand. “When did you get married?” The dark-blond pilot flinched briefly, reached for his wallet, took out a photo and pushed it across the counter to Daniel.
‘I didn't get married, I was married,’ he remarked bitterly, and Dan immediately saw Olli's facial muscles tighten and his hands clench around the whiskey glass. He picked up the picture with two fingers and whistled softly through his lips.
‘My dear Mr Kaulfuss. You've found yourself a real beauty.’ He lifted the photo and looked at it more closely. ‘But if I'm being honest, with that white streak in front and the fur coat, she looks a bit like that witch from that Dalmatian film I used to watch all the time. What was her name again.......?’
‘Cruella DeVille,’ Olli mumbled, ‘and by the way, I also got the last name from her.’
‘She's French?’ Daniel probed, pushing the picture back again. He was slowly but surely getting the impression that Olli was thawing out a little and that the old feeling of friendship was returning. In any case, his counterpart was just loosening his tie a little and unbuttoning the top button of his white shirt.
But Olli wasn't just hot, the conversation with Daniel also made him feel more and more out of his depth. In his head, he knew that he didn't really want to reveal anything about himself and his life, but he was much more connected to Dan than to any other person on this planet. He knew his secrets and he was the only one with whom he could talk about everything, really everything, at least back then. And this feeling of being able to confide in him without any ifs and buts and without fear was now creeping up on him more and more. He swallowed briefly, gave himself an inner push and turned his body on the bar stool a little in Dan's direction.
‘Yes,’ he began to tell, ’she's French, but that's by no means as romantic as a man might imagine. Nationality does not guarantee quality. At least not in the interpersonal sphere.’
‘How did you meet?’
‘Hmm, Dan, that's a long story. Let's see if I can make it short.’ Olli took another big gulp from his glass. ’I studied aerospace engineering in Bremen after graduating from high school, and while I was still studying, I got an offer from Air France. So I went to France. Juliette, my wife, was already head of research and development at Airbus in Toulouse. She is a few years older than us, you should know. Well, in any case, I had more to do with her professionally. At some point she started to take a shine to me, dragged me to all kinds of events, introduced me to important people and pushed me up the career ladder. And when there was no more room at the top, she somehow persuaded me to get my pilot's licence.’ He looked resignedly into the infinity of the mirrored wall opposite before continuing. ‘She just thought it looked better to introduce the man at her side as an Air France pilot than just as the head of the technical crew. She also paid for everything, all the training and the eye surgery so that I no longer needed glasses and all that.’
‘And out of gratitude, you married her?’ Daniel was more than surprised.
‘Well, at least I didn't say no when she asked me, and to be honest, I didn't care when she really wanted to keep her name.’ Sad but also infinitely relieved, Oliver hung his head. Until now, only his wife and he knew this whole story. He wasn't happy with this marriage, but he didn't have the courage or the strength to rebel against it. It also somehow went against his world view to separate. He had more or less decided in favour of this woman, even if he could no longer understand the reasons for it today, and now all he could do was make the best of it.
‘Why did you switch to Lufthansa now?’ Daniel tried to divert a little from the relationship topic, because he realised more and more clearly that this was something that weighed like a black shadow on Olli. But the very next answer made him realise that Juliette Besson was not a witch à la Cruella DeVille, but rather a spider that stunned its prey and locked it in a cocoon until it stopped living on its own.
‘My wife has been appointed to the board of Airbus Germany in Hamburg,’ Oliver explained to him discontentedly, “and I just had to go with her.” Daniel was stunned. This woman treated Olli like a piece of furniture, like an object that you use and then put back in its place.
‘Is that why you're so rough on your colleagues, because you would much rather have stayed with Air France and in France?‘ Daniel put his finger right on the wound.
‘I'm not rough,’ the captain replied defiantly, ‘at most I'm honest, and anyone who can't handle that is probably in the wrong place.’ Daniel's jaw almost dropped. Until a second ago, he had almost dug up his protective instincts for Olli and simply hugged him out of sheer compassion for his obviously heartless wife, but as quickly as this feeling had come, it disappeared as soon as he realised what Olli had just said.
‘You call it honest when you berate stewardesses for some trivialities?’ The dark-skinned steward was getting angry.
‘Yes, I call it honest, and for me it is not trivial when I get a still water instead of a sparkling one, when someone doesn't knock, or when my food is half cold when I get it.’ Olli sounded very irritated and closed himself off inwardly. He was the boss on the plane and for him this was the only place where he would never allow criticism of his person or his leadership style.
‘Oh, and a few bubbles too many give you the right to screw up one of the girls in front of the passengers? Not to mention the thing with Micha Könnecke. I don't even recognise you anymore, Olli.’ Horrified, he looked at the pilot, who could no longer look him in the eye.
Olli snorted reluctantly. ’How do you know about Könnecke?’
‘Boah, Oliver, what do you think?’ Dan had turned away contemptuously. “I've been with Lufthansa a lot longer than you and a bad reputation spreads like wildfire in our company too.’
‘He's gay, Dan, and I can't have a first officer in the cockpit who can't see straight because of all the lovey-dovey eyes,” the dark-blonde pilot fumed.
‘Oh no, he's gay, Olli.’ A sarcastic look brushed the pilot. ’I am too, if you still remember, but I don't see what sexual orientation has to do with how you feel when you're in love. Micha is gay, yes, and he's still in it, and that's apparently your problem. I'm almost happy that you didn't throw me out of the plane over the Red Sea, and that's probably why you never responded to my calls and letters. ‘Daniel had talked himself into a rage. If he hated something, it was undefined intolerance.
‘It's different with you, Dan. You're not in love and you're just a cabin crew member. You can't do much wrong.’
Daniel's eyes grew wider and wider. ‘Are you completely crazy?’ he said, raising his voice dangerously. ‘Apart from the fact that you can't possibly know whether I'm in love at the moment or not, because even if you're gay, it's not written in neon letters on your forehead, but what do you mean, I'm just a member of the cabin crew? Come down from your throne, Oliver, because you're not the centre of the universe.’
‘You should think carefully about what you are saying, Mr Sommer. I am still your superior and your tone is more than inappropriate.’ Oliver no longer really registered what he was saying, but acted like a machine with a predetermined programme. He felt personally offended by Daniel's words and automatically did what he always did in order to avoid having to explain or justify anything, and Dan now simply didn't understand anything anymore.
‘So now we're back to you,’ he reacted angrily and slid off the bar stool. “As soon as things get uncomfortable, you turn tail, hurt everything and everyone around you and then retreat into your shell. You're so pathetic, Oliver.” He turned his back on him and left.
‘For you, Captain Besson!’ Olli called after him, and “Oh, bite me on the sleeve!” were the last words Dan had for him. He was extremely disappointed and angry. He had hoped for so much from the conversation. Maybe too much, as he now had to admit to himself. Something had changed Oliver, had turned the sensitive, delicate and shy Olli into a terrible tyrant who immediately showed his claws when something went against the grain for him.
Still shaking with anger, Daniel took the lift to the fifth floor and then lay awake for what felt like an eternity because the argument with Olli simply wouldn't leave him alone. Thank God they would go their separate ways again tomorrow, because Dan was flying back home with his girls at nine o'clock local time, but the cockpit crew would fly a plane to Sydney shortly before noon and wouldn't come back to Germany for a few days.
Just a few rooms further on, Oliver was still lying awake in his bed. He had snuggled himself deep into the pillows, which smelled as sterile as in any hotel in the world, and he too was preoccupied by the previous exchange with Daniel. Once again, he had done everything wrong that could be done wrong, he admitted to himself, but on the other hand, it might even be better that way. His life was in ruins and to drag Daniel into it wouldn't have been fair either. Oliver smiled slightly when he thought of Dan, who hadn't changed at all. He still looked stunningly handsome, visibly comfortable in his gay skin and was just as cool as back then. Enviable, when he thought of his own inner chaos, which he would probably never find his way out of.