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Prolog
Never before had Chris met someone who could look at him with such disgust as the man at the other end of the street. And yet it didn't bother him. He didn't care what this man thought or how rigid his gaze was. All this did not change the effect he had on Chris. And he had that without a doubt. For the first time in his life, he felt completely unreasonably attracted to someone he had never seen before. For a moment, he even forgot his invisible bonds and walked towards the man.
Halfway there, someone spoke to him unexpectedly.
“How much?” an elderly gentleman asked from the window of his car.
“Sorry, I'm already spoken for,” Chris replied coolly and turned away. He looked at the spot where the strangely fascinating man had been standing, but he looked into the void. He had disappeared. Chris ran as fast as he could, ignoring the many rude comments from the rejected driver. If Arnie knew what I was doing here, ... Chris thought, but something else was more important now.
He turned the corner and was now on the main street. There weren't many people around at this time, but he was only looking for one face anyway. And he found it. The man walked quite briskly along the street and Chris followed him. Maybe he could find out where he lived and catch up with him at another time to talk to him. The prospect of standing face to face with this man, looking into his eyes and talking to him was so tempting that Chris didn't care that he was following him without being asked. Maybe it wasn't worth the trouble, but he had a hunch and usually he could rely on it. And he knew one thing for sure: he had to meet this man. At all costs.
You have made my life new,
you infect me with your strength,
you make everything so worth living,
I don't want to fight it.
You have lit a candle,
and brought light into my world,
made my life a house of cards,
built on you.
(Silbermond – Kartenhaus)*

Children's Games
“Don't you ever come back here!” an angry woman's voice echoed through the stairwell. Paul had stopped reacting to it. For two months now, he had been able to listen to his two roommates arguing every day. Nothing new. Initially, he had drawn their attention to the enormously increased noise level, but now he followed the tactic of leaving the house as soon as the air deteriorated.
Fleeing from Jane's piercing voice, he descended stair after stair, towards the noise of the city. Halfway down, Tom overtook him, holding his hands over his ears.
“How do you want to make it up to me this time?” Paul asked.
“I don't even know what I've done wrong. How should I apologize?”
“Not at all.”
“Exactly. See you later!”
A few moments later, Paul heard the creaking of the front door on the ground floor and remembered the day when he himself had been thrown out by his girlfriend. Lisa. At the time, she had also broken up with him for no apparent reason. However, Paul hadn't regretted it particularly. She was never really his girlfriend, never the one person in his life. Actually, she was always just a friend. What Paul longed for was more profound, more emotional and simply something for the soul. Something that, at the age of 25, he had only been able to observe from a distance a few times at most. To most people, a couple in love may look like any other couple, but for Paul, love was not just love. Friendly love was all well and good, but it was not for eternity. A one-night stand? That was love at the very bottom of the scale, if you could even call it love at all.
Lost in thought, he strolled for a while through the brightly lit streets of the city center. As always, he was lost in the hustle and bustle of the big city, and as always, he was glad about it. He was not good with people, especially people he didn't know. Most of the time, he preferred to be alone so as not to be involved in boring conversations. Not that he longed for particularly witty conversations, no. But most of the people he had met were too preoccupied with their own major or minor problems to engage in a balanced conversation. There had simply been too few people who had caught his attention and in the end he had given up looking for them. It almost seemed to him as if the world had nothing more to offer him than the dreary everyday life he lived in.
The shops were in the midst of the general rush-hour bustle when Paul decided to end his foray. Is Tom home already?, he wondered as he turned into a narrow side street that was mostly illuminated by bright neon lights. Paul looked around. He had never been in this street before and had no intention of visiting it that day. He couldn't do anything with the people standing on the side of the road selling their bodies. Prostitution was something that was far outside his realm of imagination and had nothing in common with his view of love.
Shaking his head, he turned around and followed the main street again; the street of normal people. If he had been more attentive, he would have seen that the side street was constantly being entered by “normal” people and left by prostitutes. He probably would have noticed the boy who had left the side street just a few moments after him and was now walking right behind him. But that's how everything passed him by.
When he unlocked the door to his apartment, it was quiet. Either Tom hadn't come back yet or Jane had calmed down and forgiven Tom, whatever it was. It didn't really matter, Paul thought. As long as it was quiet, he wouldn't complain. Then he could still enjoy a little peace and quiet and rest. After all, he had to go back to work the next day after two lonely weeks of vacation.
Paul's charges were visibly thrilled the next morning when their carer approached and, on top of that, brought breakfast with him. The small, otherwise shy squirrel monkeys from the municipal zoo came running up to him from all sides of the enclosure, clinging tenaciously to every scrap of cloth they could get hold of until they had something edible in their hands. The other inhabitants of the monkey house were no less boisterous. But that was nothing new for Paul. In fact, it was the only exciting thing in his dull life. The lively little monkeys were the opposite of him. So why complain about their behavior? It was just their nature.
With slightly tousled hair, Paul left the zoo around noon to get some change for his lunch from his car, and was promptly alerted by his rearview mirror to his ruined hairstyle. While he was still busy removing the wood chips from his hair, someone unexpectedly spoke to him.
“Don't worry. You'll look great again.”
Paul turned around in shock and saw the face of a boy who was lighting a cigarette. It was the same boy who had followed him the day before, but now there was no sign of the kind of work he did for a living. He was not wearing any conspicuous clothing and his face looked like that of a normal person. Paul quickly recovered from his fright when he saw who he was dealing with. In this city, you never knew. Somewhat annoyed by this blunt remark, he returned the cheeky manner of his counterpart.
“What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at school?”
“I haven't been to school for years. Is that all you wanted to ask? If not, I'd like to move on.”
“What would I want to ask you?”
“You tell me.”
Paul looked at the boy, who obviously enjoyed this game. He drew on his cigarette without missing a grin and blew out the white smoke shortly thereafter. His put-on expression revealed nothing about his personality or what he thought about Paul. He was surely still a child, and yet his eyes and posture spoke of a certain experience. Every movement seemed to be well thought out and coordinated with the actions of his counterpart. To Paul, it looked like a protective mechanism. The more self-confident the boy appeared, the more insecure he seemed.
“I have to get back to work now,“ Paul said after a short pause.
“Yes, all right, I'm going. Have fun with the monkeys and take care of your hair.” He dropped his cigarette, kicked it out, and walked past Paul towards the main road. The noisy city traffic could always be heard at the zoo. There didn't seem to be a quiet place anywhere in this city. Everything was characterized by hustle and bustle and stress, and yet Paul had forgotten the noise during the previous conversation.
The boy moved away step by step and Paul caught himself looking after him. He quickly turned his gaze away and walked towards the large stone zoo portal. The noise of the traffic in his ears and the smell of exhaust fumes in his nose.
A strange guy, he thought. How did he even know about the monkeys? He certainly didn't enter the zoo and I didn't mention it to him either. Confused, Paul entered the zoo grounds, showed the gatekeeper his ID, and strolled on towards the monkey house. Once he was here, he would surely show up a second time, and then Paul had a few more questions. This boy had fascinated him in a very unusual way.
The next day began like any other. Paul got up, got ready for work, had breakfast and drove to the zoo. It was only when he arrived at the parking lot that he noticed the difference. He looked around, but there was nothing to be seen far and wide. Nothing and no one. Paul tried to suppress his disappointment, but was not very successful. It was only when his lunch break came to an end and nothing unusual had happened that he scolded himself inwardly and resolved not to think about the boy anymore. He was nothing special. Even if he did reappear, Paul would pay no attention to him.
But whatever had driven him to the zoo no longer seemed important. He didn't come back. Paul had looked around the parking lot every day, hoping against his better judgment to hear the smoky voice, but there were only the zoo visitors, talking excitedly.
“What the heck,” he thought. He's just an ordinary boy who wanted to play games with me. Nothing special.
“I'm going shopping,” Paul called to Tom before he closed the apartment door behind him. It was a strange feeling to leave the apartment, even though it was quiet. All the better, then he didn't have to stay away for long and could just quickly get something to eat. However, the grocery store he trusted was still a short walk away, where he had never noticed anything unusual. Not so on this day.
Immediately after he had left the house, a very flashily dressed man followed by a group of teenagers came towards him. Flashy was actually an understatement. The seven people were more naked than clothed. And that in these post-winter temperatures. Paul looked after them in disbelief. He had never met a male prostitute before, let alone a whole group. He had his first encounter right on his doorstep, which wasn't even close to Neon Street, as he called it. What are they doing here? he wondered. He could have done without the sight, and yet he couldn't take his eyes off them. How could you get involved in something like this at such a young age? Were they possibly being forced into it? None of them seemed happy and carefree. They giggled and waved at Paul for fun, but when the older man turned to them, it quickly became quiet.
Paul stared at the group in horror. He didn't want to imagine how these boys lived. He couldn't even find words for it.
The group passed by and Paul also went back to his original plan. He simply blocked out what he had just seen and wouldn't think about it any further. For him, there was no reason to deal with the problems of others, especially not when these problems were so far outside the acceptable range. One last look back and the shopping, which hadn't even started yet, could be continued.
Listless and completely soaked from the rain, which had started quite unexpectedly, Paul trudged along the street, sometimes looking into a shop window and getting annoyed at the drivers who drove recklessly through all the puddles at a rapid pace and covered pedestrians with water if they didn't jump aside in time.
Finally, shivering, he reached the grocery store and swore to himself that next time he would drive. Of course, not in the manner of the Raudis, to whom he owed some of his soaked jeans. Were there no decent people left in this city? Certainly not in recent times. Where had all these strange people suddenly come from? he wondered. Hustlers, rascals, cheeky and precocious boys who besiege animal keepers in parking lots, and the rest, whom Paul fortunately hadn't yet come across. But enough of that.
Take another deep breath and then into the evening hustle and bustle of a big city for the weekend shopping. Two liters of milk, fruit, cheese, bread and a few treats for in between loaded into the car and quickly to the checkout, where the next shock in the person of a boy lurked and grinned at Paul from afar.
“Hey, out and about without a car today?”
“As you can see.“ Paul was too shocked by his sudden appearance to ignore him. It was obviously not a good day for him.
“Admit it, you've missed me already, haven't you?” the boy asked in his usual cheeky manner.
“Yes, absolutely. I couldn't sleep at all and kept looking around for you.“ Just play along and then home as quickly as possible, Paul thought.
“Yes, I saw that.”
“What did you see?” Paul asked, bored.
“That you were looking around for me.” When he saw Paul's questioning expression, he added, ”In the parking lot in front of the zoo. Every day.”
This boy was clearly creepy. Creepy, but still, he had something fascinating about him. Paul tried not to think about it. It was better to stay calm and not show anything.
“Okay, kid. What do you want from me?”
“Me from you? What do you want from me?”
“You're obviously following me!” Paul was speechless and loaded his purchases as quickly as possible onto the conveyor belt of the checkout.
“I just bought cigarettes here. Tell me, how could I have known that you wanted to shop here at that moment?”
“How did you know that I work at the monkey house? I didn't tell you.”
“I used to go out with the doorman. He let me in for free and I saw you with the monkeys. Happy?”
That was it! The day was finally ruined. Paul just wanted to leave. He gave the cashier fifteen euros, took his shopping bag and stormed out of the store.
“Your change!“ the confused woman called after him.
“I'll take it for him, thank you,” said the boy, and followed Paul, who was already out of sight. He had actually sat down in the nearest doorway and hoped that a certain person would not see him. He was lucky. The boy walked purposefully past him. Paul waited a moment, then turned around and headed back.
How could he have found this nuisance fascinating? There was really nothing great about him, rather a lot of things that were off-putting. Starting with his constant, inappropriate appearances, his cheeky manner, his looks that seemed to pierce everything, to this tendency, which Paul didn't even want to think about in detail. It was all not normal. The whole boy was so strange that you just had to avoid him. Paul didn't want anything to do with him. He was far too afraid of all the new, abnormal things that could come into his life as a result.
Lost in thought, he entered the apartment and stowed the groceries. He just couldn't get that face out of his head.
“Hey Paul.”
“Hello Jane.”
“Did you remember the yogurt?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Oh great. Oh yes,” she added, frowning, ‘someone just called here, but hung up immediately. Were you expecting a call?”
Paul's face turned white. ’No.”
“Strange. Maybe it was just a wrong number.”
“Maybe.”
“Say, have you heard anything from your ex lately?”
This unexpected question made the horror visions disappear from Paul's mind for a moment. He looked at Jane, confused, wondering why she brought it up now.
“No, why?”
“Well, Tom and I were just wondering why you've been so quiet and restless for a few days. We thought it might have something to do with it.”
“No, it's nothing.”
“Well, if something should be...” She gave Paul a meaningful look.
“Yes, I know.”
“Thanks for the yogurt.”
After she had disappeared into her room, Paul went into the living room and dropped onto the couch.
“I can't believe all this,” he sighed.
The next morning and the night that had preceded it had been terrible. Paul was plagued by a lot of sleep-depriving thoughts that just wouldn't leave him. Particularly nasty ideas took hold of his mind when he entered the zoo and had to show his ID to the gatekeeper. Paul hadn't expected something so reprehensible from him, and so the poor man was greeted with a scowl instead of the usual smile.
Still lost in thought, Paul began his work. It was simply unbelievable what that little brat had told him yesterday. He hadn't even been embarrassed to admit something like that in public. He should be put with the apes, they would certainly get along well together. Their level of development seemed to be at about the same stage.
But eventually even Paul ran out of insults and the outrage subsided. At least he had had a day and a night to come to terms with what the boy had told him. And now curiosity came out again. The boy had so much about him that Paul had always pushed far from himself, but it was precisely this fact that seemed to attract him now. Of course, he didn't care if he ever saw the boy again, but... No. He didn't want to see him again. Who could say what would happen then? In the end, the little boy would have it in for him too. Paul didn't want to take that risk. It was bad enough that the boy knew where he worked and seemed to be constantly following him. Maybe he had even followed him home. Paul could already hear the smoky voice behind his front door: “Paul, let me in.”
It was a good thing that no one would do him that favor. It was frightening how much influence the boy had taken on his life. A child. Ridiculous! But it was so, at least as long as Paul played along. And that would now come to an end. He wanted his quiet, normal life back and there was no room for an obviously disturbed teenager in it. So back to life, back to work. After lunch, of course.
Paul walked towards the exit, directly towards the gatehouse, knocked lightly on the glass and, with a friendly smile, motioned to the man behind it to go to his car for a moment. The man smiled back in confusion and turned to his newspaper as soon as Paul was out of sight.
Paul had arrived at his car in the meantime. He had looked around briefly, but otherwise paid no attention to who was in the parking lot. Even his little, annoying appendage should have realized by yesterday that Paul didn't particularly value his presence.
“Hey, Paul! Hungry so early today?”
There was no need to turn around. Paul would now recognize the voice from thousands.
“How did you know my name?”
“Oh, well, your buddy at the front desk told me. Strange guy, isn't he?”
“Yes, he is, if he has anything to do with you.” This can't be true. Paul's good mood evaporated as quickly as a splash of water on a hot stove.
“You have something to do with me, too, so...”
“No!” Paul turned around and looked at his counterpart, annoyed. ”I have nothing to do with you and that won't change, got it?”
“All right. I just wanted to give you your change from yesterday.”
“What?”
“Your change.”
“I got that.”
“You're a strange guy, too, you know that? I told the cashier that I'd give it to you, so I'll give it to you. What's your problem?”
“It's right in front of me. I don't like it when someone stalks me.”
“I'm not stalking you at all,” the boy said, stunned. He had never met a more complicated person before.
“No, of course not. You just happen to be here at the zoo when I take my lunch break. And what was that phone call about?”
“What phone call?”
“Yes, what phone call?”
“Oh, just forget it! Here's your money! I don't have to listen to such nonsense.“ The boy took a few steps away, then turned around again. ‘Even if you're not interested, my name is Chris, not ’little one'.” With that, he left the parking lot. Behind him, he left a confused and very insecure Paul, who, as if in a trance, locked his car and trudged back to the zoo. He didn't even notice the gatekeeper, who had been pleased a few minutes earlier by Paul's return to good humor and now smiled politely at him. The poor man sat in his little house, newspaper in one hand, the other still raised in greeting, and didn't understand the world anymore.
The doorbell rang. Paul went to the door, opened it and wanted to slam it again immediately. A broad-grinning and obviously very cheerful Lisa stood before him.
“What do you want?” Paul asked annoyed and already saw himself swallowing a whole box of aspirin late at night.
“I wanted to see you.”
Oh great. She couldn't have picked a better time to get rid of her guilty conscience. How long had it been since he had seen her? A little over a year? If only Jane hadn't mentioned her. Maybe then she wouldn't have shown up?
Obviously someone wanted to play a trick on Paul and that just when he thought his life would be quieter from now on. He couldn't actually remember having led a balanced, carefree and, above all, happy life for a long time. Since he had left his parents' house, he had been pursued by someone or something, starting with the trouble surrounding his grandfather Georg's will, which had been a kind of matchmaking attempt. The two people involved were Paul and Lisa. Lisa had been chosen because she was the granddaughter of a very old friend, Georg's first great love. Of course it was obvious that the two grandchildren belonged together, and Paul was also completely overwhelmed at the beginning by these significant words such as love, destiny and family. He had accepted the role of the exemplary grandson and family heir without paying attention to his inner feelings, which had already told him at the time that he was taking the wrong path.
He and Lisa became a couple, the whole family was happy, and from that point on, everything went wrong. There were frequent arguments, which were not exactly reduced by moving into a shared apartment, and therefore inevitably led to a separation. A separation that was necessary, but for which the cause was still missing. There were certainly many reasons that spoke for it, but the last spark that had prompted Lisa to take this final step was hidden from Paul until today. For no apparent reason, Paul suddenly found himself without a flat and without a girlfriend. But the worst thing about the situation was the subsequent break with his family, because in their eyes he had violated his grandfather's last will.
Completely confused and insecure, Paul had set out to find a place to live and had eventually met Tom, who had offered him a room in his apartment. At that time, Tom and Jane were not yet together. Paul would probably have moved out again immediately in that case.
A few more or less quiet months followed, during which he took the job as a zookeeper and Tom seemed to invite a new girlfriend to the flat every other day. Since breaking up with Lisa, Paul had become somewhat allergic to couples who enjoyed each other's company for a few days before looking for a new partner. Deep down, he still held the old ideas about love that his family had taught him, and which had made him yearn even back then when he listened to his grandfather's stories. He no longer believed in fate, but he did believe in the feeling of security and inner peace that comes from finding true love.
Tom seemed to have found it, because he invited a certain woman over again and again until she finally moved into the shared flat as the third member. But it turned out similarly to Paul and Lisa. The arguments increased and Paul already saw Tom looking for another place to live on the street. Wrong! Every argument was followed by a reconciliation and every reconciliation by the next argument. A simple principle, but unfortunately extremely annoying for a third roommate, who didn't react well to this kind of relationship anyway.
And now? There was hardly any arguing left, the apartment was pleasantly quiet, and what was the catch? Of course there was one. Strictly speaking, he answered to the name Chris and turned out to be more of a nuisance than Tom and Jane or Lisa had ever been. Haunted by a child! A gay teenager! Paul still couldn't believe it, but at least this problem seemed to have vanished into thin air. But the next one was already on the doorstep. Literally! There had even been a doorbell and it seemed reluctant to go away.
“How about a 'come in' and a 'nice to see you'?” Lisa asked.
“What do you want me to do, lie?” Paul replied with a feignedly shocked expression.
“Very funny!”
“But your ‘I wanted to see you’ wasn't bad either.”
Without saying another word, Lisa pushed past Paul into the apartment.
“What's going on here? Are you trying to chase me out of this apartment, too? I've got enough stress, so what do you want?”
“I've already told you.”
“I don't believe you.”
“But it's true.”
Maybe this woman was even more of a nuisance than Chris. At least he seemed to have finally crept out of Paul's life, unlike Lisa, who had just entered it again. And with trumpets and drums and all the trimmings.
“I spoke to your mother,” Lisa said, sitting down on the sofa in the living room.
“Oh, she talks to you and avoids me. Am I the only one who has violated Grandfather's last will? You did, after all, break up with me.”
“Actually, she didn't want to talk to me either, but I somehow managed it.”
“Yeah,” Paul snorted. ”I know you! You always get what you want.”
“You didn't even want to let me in the door.”
“Yeah, why do you think that is? Think about it.”
“I know what you think of me, Paul.”
“Oh yeah? Then you also know that I never understood why you broke up with me, right?”
Lisa's presence was becoming increasingly unbearable. Paul didn't like the direction the conversation was taking. Lisa seemed so different to him. Sure, they hadn't seen each other in a long time, but something was still different. It even looked like she really only wanted to see him again. But why?
“Yes, I know that, but if you still haven't found out after all this time, I'm not going to tell you now. It's up to you. I wouldn't be doing you a favor if I told you. You probably wouldn't believe me anyway and hate me even more afterwards.”
“Please go now, Lisa,” Paul said with a shaky voice. He didn't like the whole thing.
“Paul...”
“Please.”
Lisa stood up and actually left. At the door, she turned around one last time and it seemed as if she wanted to say something. Her lips moved, but Paul didn't hear anything. Then she opened the door, stepped into the hallway, and closed the door behind her. Paul remained motionless, staring at his still-clenched fingers. What was that now? How was he supposed to know why she had broken up with him? Why couldn't she just tell him? He stood up and walked a few steps across the room. Was it possible that he was to blame for the breakup after all? Lisa's words swirled through his mind and came up against old, buried memories. Would they help answer some questions? Paul hardly remembered the time before the quarrels had begun. He remembered Lisa as the woman who had thrown him out on the street and hadn't even given a reason for doing so. He should eventually find that out on his own. What movie had he ended up in?
Dull murmurs and the clicking of the door lock brought Paul back to the present.
“Hey Paul, did you have a visitor? We almost bumped into a woman on the stairs who was muttering your name.”
“Yes, that was Lisa.”
“The Lisa who threw you out?”
“Exactly the one.”
“Didn't go so well?”
“Yes, perfectly,” Paul hissed sarcastically. ”I'm going to bed.”
“To bed? It's nine o'clock and tomorrow is the weekend.”
“All the better, then I can sleep late. Good night!”
Weekend. A beautiful word. If only he could enjoy it.
Sleep late? I wish! He had racked his brains half the night and when he finally fell asleep, the birds outside his window were already chirping loudly. Why did Lisa have to come to him now? Couldn't they have had this conversation a year ago? Maybe Paul shouldn't have sent her away. Maybe he would have gotten some more answers if she had stayed. Ifs, ands, or buts. It wouldn't have helped him any.
When he woke up the next morning, his mind was free of these tormenting events, which had been plaguing him lately, for a very brief moment. He opened his eyes, squinted at the bright sun, turned to the door and... pulled the blanket back over his head.
“You've got to be kidding me! What do you want?“ he mumbled from the heap of clothes.
“I'd like to talk to you.”
“Well, I don't want to talk to you,” Paul thought, but was surprised by the formal way of speaking.
“This is my bedroom, and I'm sure you have no business being here. So piss off!”
“Someone's grumpy this morning, Mr. Fleming.“ Chris closed the door behind him and sat down on the floor next to Paul's bed.
“You're still here.” Could it get any worse? Definitely not! After all, his gay stalker was visiting him in his bedroom.
“I need to talk to you, Paul. I know you don't like me, but it's important.”
Why did everyone want to talk to him? Had someone placed an ad in the newspaper: “Please contact Paul Flemming”? And anyway, who had let this boy in the door?
“All right,” Paul sighed, pushed back the blanket a little and leaned on the headboard of his bed. ”What's up?”
“It's about me.”
“Oh, come on!”
“I wanted to ask you if I could stay with you for a while.”
“Very funny, really. Now tell me what you want.”
Chris didn't answer, he just looked at Paul. His look was serious. A little too serious for this otherwise so lively boy. Paul felt queasy when he looked into his staring eyes, in which he could see no sign of a joke.
“You're not serious about this, are you?”
“Yes.”
“And why, if I may ask?”
“I ran away.”
Great! A runaway teenager!
“I didn't know where to go,” Chris said, staring at the floor.
“And because we get along so well, you thought you'd move in with me.”
Again, Chris didn't say anything. Paul was confused. At their last meeting, he had had the impression that he had offended Chris, but obviously the anger about it had quickly faded. Or he really didn't have anywhere to live and Paul was his last chance.
And what should he do now? He couldn't let someone live with him who could attack him at any moment. Who knew what the little one was still capable of. Where should he sleep anyway? In Paul's bed? No way! And the food? That would also remain uneaten. The boy was not a bit independent. He certainly didn't have any money either. How did he imagine that?
“How do you imagine it? Where do you want to sleep? What do you want to eat? You don't even have clean clothes.”
“I have a little money. Not much, but it should be enough for the time being.”
“Yeah, right!” Paul rolled his eyes. ”And where did you get the money? Did you steal it?”
Chris looked at him in surprise. “I don't steal. And besides, I thought you knew how I made my money and that's why you don't like me.”
“How was I supposed to know how you got money?”
“I thought you saw me. That evening, before we met for the first time in the parking lot.”
“And where should...” Slowly Paul understood what Chris was getting at. But that couldn't be. Chris was one of them? Not that as well! That was why he had this strange charisma, this cheeky but at the same time insecure manner. He was one of them. Paul couldn't believe it. But at the same time, this knowledge triggered something else in his mind. He wasn't as disgusted as he would have thought. It was very strange, but suddenly Paul remembered his first impression of Chris. His movements and behavior, which had seemed so desperate to Paul. Maybe that was all there was to see. Maybe he had just fallen for this facade of the self-confident boy and hadn't paid attention to the person himself. Did Chris just want to ask him for help the whole time?
“You didn't know?” Chris' voice was barely audible, he spoke so softly.
Paul just shook his head absently.
“Oh.”
Neither of them said anything for a while. They just sat there quietly and thought, until Chris suddenly stood up and went to the door.
“Where are you going?” Paul asked, not really knowing why.
“Away. I know when I'm not wanted, and that's obviously the case here.”
“Then why did you come in the first place?”
“Because I thought that your opinion of me couldn't get any worse, even if I asked you to do something crazy like this. But as I can see, I was completely wrong. You didn't even like me before you knew what I was. I don't even want to know what you think of me now.”
“How old are you?”
“What does that have to do with it?”
“A lot. So?”
“Eighteen.”
“And how long have you been doing it?”
“About two years.”
Paul shook his head. A kid who made his money as a hustler. Unbelievable! Who came up with that?!
“What do your parents say?”
“They can't say much. They died in an accident when I was fifteen.”
“I'm sorry...”
“What's the point, Paul? You're not interested anyway! To you I'm just a pervert and dirty, aren't I? What difference does it make how old I was? A hustler is a hustler. Don't tell me you've suddenly accepted it. I don't believe you!”
Chris was still standing in the doorway, but he was no longer as calm as he had been a few minutes ago. Every word he said sounded to Paul like a cry of pain and a call for help that had been ignored for years. Probably Chris didn't even know what these two years had done to him, who he had become. And yet he seemed to have realized that it was destroying him and had fled. Paul looked at him. He was so different from the others on Neon Street. He had not lost his humanity and sense of shame. You could clearly see that he was ashamed, even if he tried to hide it with a loud voice and wild gestures. Maybe that's why Paul hadn't been able to read him.
'I don't believe you!' Chris's words buzzed through Paul's head. He was right, but somehow not.
“It's true. I can't deal with that way of life and I don't think it's normal either, but... oh, I don't know. You're just different somehow.”
“Oh, and what makes me different? Just because I was still a minor doesn't mean I didn't do the same things as the adults. How many kids do you think work there! That's what the whole business is built on!”
“But you're not there anymore. You understood what it means to sell your body. Or why else would you have run away from there? You realized that it was the wrong thing to do and that's what makes you different from the others. Believe me when I say that you wouldn't be sitting in my bedroom if I were to equate you with them.”
“Great! First you can't stand me and now? What's going on? You can't keep changing your mind.” Chris's voice sounded calmer. He dropped to the floor in front of the door and put his hands to his head. ”I can't figure you out, Paul.”
“Me neither,” he replied truthfully. ‘I suggest we agree to a truce.”
“And then?”
“Then we set the rules.”
“I can stay?’ Slightly skeptical, as if he didn't trust the peace, Chris looked over at Paul.
“But only on a trial basis. If you do anything funny, especially to me, you can leave again, okay? Oh God, I think I regret it already,” he murmured and threw the blanket back over his head. He probably just hadn't gotten enough sleep and had lost most of his mind overnight.
“Hey!“ he grumbled when Chris threw himself on the bed next to him and gave him a stormy hug. ‘That's also something weird.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,’ Chris just said and, to top it all, gave Paul a kiss on the cheek.
“And that even more so!”
“Sorry,” he said grinning.
“This could be something!“ Paul sighed and pushed back the bedspread.
“Who was the guy who opened the door for me?” Chris asked, seemingly in passing.
“Oh, that was Tom. He lives here with his girlfriend, Jane.”
“Oh. I thought...”
One look from Paul and Chris was silent. “Don't even think that, okay?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“All right, then we'll find you a place to sleep and something to wear.”
“Something of yours?”
“Chris!”
“All right! I'm sorry.”
In the afternoon, Chris left the apartment again to pick up a few things. He said that he had asked someone to pack a backpack with the most important things and smuggle it out of the bar where he had worked. He himself couldn't possibly show up there again. That would be too dangerous because everyone was surely looking for him. Paul felt very strange when he heard all this. He had never had anything to do with this scene and didn't know his way around at all. What Chris said sounded so serious. It was inconceivable to Paul that this should be reality. You only know these stories from television or from the newspaper. And now he was directly affected by it. In a way, he was even in danger himself, because he offered shelter to someone who had simply run away. It was well known that this was not very popular. He hadn't thought about that at all. Actually, he hadn't thought about anything when he allowed Chris to stay. Except that he had to help this boy, nothing else had occurred to him. Very naive. But now it was too late. He couldn't throw Chris out the door. What would become of him then? Paul didn't want to blame himself if something happened to Chris.
Two hours later, Chris returned, without his backpack. He had the same amount of money on him as he had that afternoon and looked a little scared.
“What's wrong?” Paul asked. ‘Where are your things?”
“He didn't come.”
“The guy who was supposed to bring you the backpack?”
Chris nodded. ’I wonder what they did to him? If something happens to him, it's my fault.”
“You can't know that. Maybe he just couldn't get away. They didn't catch him right away.”
Paul was nervous. He had never been in such a situation before. He didn't know what to say. Comforting and reassuring were not exactly his strengths.
“Why don't you take a shower first. You must be cold from waiting so long.”
“Thanks,” Chris said quietly and disappeared into the bathroom.
Meanwhile, Paul looked for pajamas, bed sheets and a sheet from his closet. What had he gotten himself into? How could he get himself into such a mess of problems? Taking in a runaway without thinking it through was really crazy. But who else would have helped him? It was the right thing to do, Paul told himself. He still didn't feel much better, though.
A little later, Chris came out of the bathroom. He still looked quite tense. His hair was still wet and only a thin towel hid his delicate body. As he walked past Paul, Paul noticed for the first time the small tattoo that Chris had on the back of his neck. It was a sun.
“Do you have to walk around like that?“ Paul asked. Insecurity was spreading.
“Sorry.”
“Here.” Paul held out a pair of shorts and pajamas. “Put those on. Should be warm enough.”
Chris took the clothes and went back into the bathroom. Paul was surprised at his behavior. He wasn't being cheeky, but he wasn't his usual carefree and happy self either. He was so unsure of himself, almost shy, and above all, he seemed sad. Was it really the same Chris who had left the apartment that afternoon?
“You could have asked us,” grumbled Tom the next morning. ”I was almost scared to death when the guy was still there this morning. Who is he, anyway, and why is he sleeping on our sofa?”
Of course Chris hadn't slept in Paul's bed or in his room. So the only possibility was the couch in the living room.
“He's... I'm sorry, but I can't tell you that. He has to stay here for a while, he has no one else.”
“Yeah, all right, but ask us next time, okay?”
“Of course.” As if there would be a next time.
“But why is he sleeping here and not on the sofa in your room?”
“That...“ Paul's blood rushed to his head immediately, and he couldn't think of a suitable excuse either.
“Paul snores so loudly. I moved into the living room last night.” Chris grinned cheekily at him from the side. He was back to his old self. “Don't be embarrassed, Paul.”
“Haha, very funny! Come on, we'll find you something to wear.”
“But I thought...”
“Do you want to walk around in your pajamas all day?”
“No, but...”
“Well, there you go.”
“I thought you didn't want me to wear any of your clothes.”
“That's right, but try to buy something in town on Sunday.”
“I'm not complaining. I'd love to wear your clothes.”
Paul just sighed briefly and opened the door of his wardrobe. “Here, this could fit you and now into the bath.”
“Ok,” Chris said and did as he was told.
“And stop sniffing my stuff!”
“And if I don't?”
“Then I'll take them off you and you'll have to walk around naked.”
“If that's what you want...” Chris laughed.
The guy's going to kill me!, Paul thought and stomped into the kitchen to prepare breakfast. A short time later, he heard the splashing of the shower. How long do you think Chris would stay? He had no family, no apartment and no money, or at least not very much. How did he want to continue living when he no longer lived with Paul? Was there even a possibility for him to lead a normal life? As far as Paul knew, he didn't even have a proper school-leaving certificate. How did he imagine doing that?
The coffee machine wheezed in the background while Paul continued to dwell on his thoughts.
“Hey, brooding will give you wrinkles.”
Chris had sat down at the table with Paul without him noticing and smiled cheerfully at him. He probably hasn't even thought about it yet, Paul thought.
“No comment on your clothes?”
“Yes, they look good on you.” They looked more than good on him. Paul found himself eyeing Chris and finding him... attractive. He quickly turned to the coffee machine, which had just let out a final sigh, and filled two cups with the steaming liquid.
“We still have to get you something of your own, though, don't we?”
“Do I look that bad in your clothes, or do you still think it's gross when I wear something of yours?”
“I never said it was gross, and just for the record, it looks really good on you, okay? I just don't have enough clothes for two people in my closet.”
“All right. But we have to shop around for bargains, otherwise I won't have any money left.”
“Sure.”
“So what do we do today?” Chris asked, taking a sip of hot coffee.
“I don't know, you suggest something.”
“We'll make ourselves comfortable here. I don't want to go out in case... you know.”
“Yeah, sure. So cook something tasty and watch TV, right?”
“Exactly. Of course, only if you don't mind.”
“If I don't mind what?”
“That I'm in your bedroom. At least that's where the TV is, isn't it?”
“Assuming you don't get on my case.”
“What do you think of me? Besides, you're not my type.”
“Then I can be reassured,“ Paul said coolly, and yet Chris' last sentence still buzzed loudly and clearly through his thoughts. He had triggered something in Paul. It felt strange. So unfamiliar. His heartbeat pounded in his ears. It was a feeling similar to excitement, nervousness or fear.
“What is it now?” Chris asked, confused.
“Nothing, I'm going to shower now. Can you put the things back into the fridge?”
“Sure, but...”
Paul went into the bathroom without paying attention to the question marks in Chris' eyes and closed the door. As soon as he was alone, he felt more comfortable. Simply because he was unobserved. Here he didn't have to hide anything and didn't have to pay attention to whether his face revealed too much. He took a deep breath and then got into the shower. He didn't even know what was on his face and why. His feelings had become so alien to him that he didn't want to risk laying them bare in front of Chris. He might misinterpret them.
All Paul knew was that suddenly everything had changed. Whatever happened to the old Paul and his normal life? He couldn't explain how everything could have changed so quickly and so unnoticed. Now it had come to the point that he had to hide in his own bathroom in his apartment. And all because of a single sentence from Chris. It seemed so absurd and it scared him that nothing seemed safe anymore. And his reaction made even less sense. Whether Chris liked him or not was not his concern, and it wasn't. But why did his body react like that? It was completely exaggerated.
The warm water flowed over Paul's body, soothingly. With every second that passed, he felt more like himself again. The strange throbbing had gone, but he still had a funny feeling in his stomach. He wondered if it was all just because Chris was always around him. Just a few days ago, the mere idea of having to live with someone like that would have put him off, but now he had to deal with it somehow. Maybe he had unintentionally imagined that they had a much closer bond because he really wanted to help Chris. That had never happened before and could have triggered these strange feelings.
When Paul felt he had wasted enough water, he turned off the tap and got out of the shower. He was completely satisfied with his explanation, but decided to avoid Chris as much as possible. After all, he didn't want to risk his mind playing tricks on him again. He didn't yet know how he was going to do that while watching TV together, but he would have plenty of time to think while cooking.