07-11-2025, 07:53 PM
Somehow, I had bumblebees in my head. Big, loud bumblebees. They gave me a headache, and the sunlight streaming into my room didn't exactly help.
That party was truly amazing, but the champagne and red wine had left their mark. I slowly sat up in bed, trying to avoid any hasty movements. What had happened last night? A lot, actually, too much, and only gradually did the memories return. You only turn eighteen once in your life, but the fact that you always tend to exaggerate...
I smelled of perfume. A strange perfume, quite sweet and overpowering. It clung to me everywhere, and somehow it disgusted me.
I threw back the covers, stood up very slowly, and pulled the fabric cord next to the four-poster bed that rang the kitchen bell. It usually took less than ten minutes for Mortimer to appear with breakfast.
The sun in my eyes really hurt, but I forced myself to look out the open window anyway. Out into the beautiful nature on that summer morning.
Eighteen, I thought. Grown up. A man. Or not yet?
I stepped in front of the large mirror and looked at myself. Had I grown a year older last night? No, I decided. Twenty-four hours ago, I had looked exactly the same. Not quite as crumpled, but otherwise...
My medium-length, blond hair stood out in a mess. I ran my hands through it and had to grin. Jane once told me I had bristles like a wild boar. She hadn't meant it seriously, but she was right. The blue eyes I inherited from my mother weren't the pure white they usually were. They were more of a reddish tint. I bared my white teeth, which I was really proud of, and stuck out my tongue. Stupid alcohol. My gaze wandered over my body in the mirror and I decided it was time to get a bit of color back on my skin. The few hairs on my body were gathered on my sternum, and not much else was around my belly button, from where they disappeared into a narrow strip in my shorts. I reached into my pants and made sure that underneath everything was the same as yesterday. Everything was fine.
I took a deep breath. What would change from today? More rights, more responsibilities? I'd already had plenty of those. And even more from now on? I suspected that my carefree years were over. The end of my good life, and I hadn't even managed to sleep with a girl yet. I'd had more than enough chances, but something held me back. Well, my relatives were happy about it, even though I could have lied to them about it. But this ultra-conservative society preferred it best if people didn't engage in premarital sex. For moral reasons and all. And then the endless headlines when the paparazzi caught you kissing or when you'd had one too many. I could hardly change my appearance; it was immediately documented on page 1 of "The Sun." I would have also liked to wear an earring or have my hair highlighted, like many of my classmates. Go to the swimming pool after school, just do stupid things. Riding out with my horse, all alone. The only time I was truly alone was in the evening, within my own four walls.
Sometimes it was weird. I was lying in bed, enjoying a good jerk-off, and there were millions of people out there imagining exactly that.
"I wonder what he looks like naked?" Well, tough luck. Very few of them will ever find out. Unless I deliberately let myself be caught by a paparazzi. And then I'd be in the Sun for days. I just couldn't think of a headline for that. Even weirder was the idea that I could make a lot of money doing it. First the money, then the photos. And then disappear, once and for all. South Seas. Hawaii. Only cocktails on the beach...
"Good morning, Wallice," Mortimer greeted me, whom I had invited in after knocking.
He rolled the silver tray trolley to my table and bowed politely. Mortimer had been a servant of the house since time immemorial and was always friendly. He had turned seventy this winter and was still one of the old guard. I had asked him years ago not to address me by my title; I simply felt too young for it. I liked Mortimer because he was neither pushy nor arrogant. And yet there were quite a few around me who possessed such negative qualities. Most of the bodyguards were incredibly proud of their right to protect me. Yet I often thought I could do without them. Who would want to harm me? Sure, there were anarchists, crazy types like that, who didn't give a thought to why they were trying to kill someone. But if they really wanted to, they'd get to you anyway. Even a few monstrous piles of flesh around you didn't do much good.
"Thank you," I said briefly, because that word alone scared the bumblebees away again.
As quietly as he came, Mortimer disappeared, and I sat down at the table. How long could I be alone today? Alone with myself? Ten minutes, a quarter of an hour? I dreaded the festivities. Celebrating my birthday was entirely my own plan. My best friends, no one else.
Shadows in my mind became colorful figures. With every sip of coffee, the evening became more vivid.
Anne. My best friend. Pretty, intelligent, from a good family. But I didn't like the way she talked to me that night. She was getting her hopes up, and that's something I can't stand. I even thought I heard the word "dowry" used.
Beatrice. Short, chubby, red hair. Irish descent. Not my type, but at least she wasn't pushy or vulgar.
Jane was even more so. She was also the one who had transferred her perfume to me. She was constantly hanging around my neck, trying to kiss me, and constantly pretending to be my future wife. I didn't dare say that I could never have her. But she would soon realize it anyway.
Rachel. She was my star tonight. Tall, slim, with a narrow, even face framed by long, chestnut-colored hair. The sister of my best friend Peter. I'd known her for a long time, yet it seemed to me as if we had only just met. I constantly sought her company, but somehow she avoided me. Maybe she was far too shy to be with me in public the way we usually did. Or maybe she thought things with Jane were serious.
But something else happened that night that I couldn't get out of my head. Something I hadn't thought possible. And yet it happened.
Steven, a school friend, was also at the party. A quiet, level-headed young man. About my age but a little shorter, slim, with dark hair, brown eyes, and... Well, somehow, he was always around me, along with Jane.
Anyway, I went to the bathroom at midnight, and when I came out, he was standing in front of the door with his arms crossed. He had this weird expression on his face.
“Are you not feeling well?” I asked him.
"No, I don't."
"Do you want to be taken home?"
"No. I don't feel sick, if that's what you mean."
"Then what is it?"
Steven suddenly looked at me in a way that made me feel completely different.
"It's you," he said casually.
"What do you mean? Did I misbehave?"
Despite the diffuse light, I saw that his eyes were moist.
"Nonsense, you can't do that."
"Yes, but what is it then?"
He came up to me, put his hands around my waist and before I knew it, he kissed me on the cheek.
He stepped back abruptly, but his eyes suddenly shone.
"I kissed Prince Wallice."
I must have stood there like a pillar of salt. Somehow, I was used to getting kisses like that from all sorts of people in my extended family. I liked most of the people who did it, but this was something completely different.
The realization that Steven might be gay wouldn't affect my friendship with him. He suddenly looked genuinely happy, and I was kind of happy for him. If you could cheer someone up with such a small thing, then that was fine with me, too. I hugged him in return.
"Hey, Steve, no matter what your feelings are, you are and will always be my friend."
He smiled gorgeously and beamed at me with sparkling eyes.
»Ehrlich?«
"If the prince says something, then it is so."
We stood there for a long time until Peter stepped in front of us.
"Hey, are there any problems?"
I broke up with Steve.
"Not really. Steven has a little problem, and we just sorted it out."
“Come in,” I called when there was a knock at the door.
My father stood in the doorway with a strange grin on his face.
"Well, young man, did you sleep well?"
I nodded, and he certainly guessed how I was really feeling. His eyes scanned the room. Of course, he must have hoped I wasn't spending the night alone in my bed; I could clearly see that. He also expressed his disappointment that his expectations hadn't been fulfilled.
He just waved briefly.
"When are you coming down? The Scotbys are on their way."
I swallowed. Yes, the Scotbys. The entire nobility of the country. From my grandparents down to the sirs and lords.
"Give me some time, the night was long."
"Yes, but not for too long. The press is also on the prowl. And you know, you can't always escape them."
"Yes," I groaned, "I know."
There was nothing I hated more than the public, and the worst of all were reporters. It was practically impossible to avoid them, especially on a day like this.
I stepped in front of the mirror again. No, nothing had changed.
The long shower afterward was primarily dedicated to that horrible perfume. Even as I dried myself off, it still seemed to cling to me. I would definitely avoid Jane if I caught even the slightest hint of that almost pungent scent again.
I looked out the window of our Folthmore estate in Gloucestershire, southwest England. Being a prince isn't exactly easy. The world is watching you, whether you like it or not. A lot of cars had pulled up by now, most of them probably belonging to those hyenas, as I aptly called the reporters. Cameras were being set up; it was a real commotion. I gazed longingly into the forest that stretched far behind the estate. My greatest wish at that moment was to disappear in there. Perhaps it would pour with rain and this bunch would get soaked to the bone. But it was a beautiful day, and going into hiding was out of the question anyway. A prince second in line to the throne couldn't escape the mob. People want to see him, to be part of his life. Maybe I'm part of their dreams, too. The dream of endless lazing around, spending money, and all the fun you supposedly have. And every woman in the world would be at your feet. If only they knew... And all I wanted was peace and quiet. Studying like thousands of other boys, without having to endure those secret glances. And the whispering, too. The girls were often beyond annoying. On more than one occasion, I'd locked myself in my room and cried. Begging to be like everyone else out there. But it didn't help. Future Prince of Witham—and one day, King. Did I really want that? Was that my destiny?
Sure, I had a lot of perks. A lot of them, in fact. My work abroad. I had priority, no matter what club I was in. They tried to anticipate my every need; I wasn't denied anything.
What gave me the most joy were the regular visits to children's and animal shelters. There was no sensationalism, no envy, no excessive politeness. I was able to be the person I truly am.
But there was also the other side. Although I didn't yet have any real responsibilities, and the throne and its associated responsibilities were far away, every day I became more aware of what would come my way.
They stood in the castle ballroom, my dear relatives from all corners of the country. From the Lord to my grandmother, the Queen of Witham. And the cuddling began. I took it bravely; after all, I didn't have much choice. I was pleased to spot Peter in the crowd. My best friend was never far from me, and I valued him as the person I loved most. His presence meant security, comfort in difficult times, joy, and fun. He was also the one who comforted me for days after my mother died. I don't know how I would have managed without him. Peter was related to me very distantly, through a thousand different connections or so. We'd known each other since we were children, and I think I would have given up the throne for our friendship. Now I saw him, discreetly in the background. Sometimes he seemed like a bodyguard to me, because he hardly let me out of his sight. And I needed this closeness, on this day more than usual. I would have loved to grab his arm and run out. Anywhere, just away from all this. But a prince isn't allowed to do that. He's not allowed to do so many things. And if he was, then only under observation. Often it was only in the tiny cubicle of a toilet somewhere on some special occasion that I could be alone for minutes at a time. Then I would close the door, sit down on the toilet lid and listen to myself, try to forget everything around me for a few minutes. Think about my future and my life in general. But whatever I made up in my head – shortly afterwards I was back in the spotlight.
»Steven?«
I suddenly looked into the boy's face. I had expected everyone to be here, but not him. But of course, he was my great-aunt Agnetha's son, after all, why shouldn't he be here?
There they were again, those brown eyes, that smile. And a look I couldn't interpret. I'm rarely prone to goosebumps, but there they came. It enveloped my entire body for a few seconds, then was replaced by a very pleasant sensation. Suddenly, I felt his kiss again and realized that it hadn't been unpleasant. Jane's perfume had been much more of an unpleasant sensation.
The banquet that evening was just as dramatic. Luckily, Peter sat to my right, Steven to my left. I had requested this seating arrangement and had encountered considerable resistance from some family members; after all, the seating arrangement had been planned weeks in advance. But that didn't really matter to me that evening; no one was more important to me than those two. Well, a few dirty looks came from Julie, one of my numerous nieces. But she's really not that great. And from Sarah. Well, there's no accounting for taste. She's pretty, sort of, but just as dim-witted. Nothing attracted me to them, and the aristocratic people around me viewed these things with disapproval, even if they didn't officially admit it. There was a fear that one day I might bring a commoner along. That couldn't be allowed to happen. Basically, it was regulations like these that often annoyed me. And putting on a brave face was particularly difficult for me.
My presents were the highlight of the evening. Dad gave me a new VW Golf, the very one I had adored so much when I was shopping in Dover weeks earlier. I won't list the other presents; that would take too long. But I have to mention Peter's bracelet. Made of copper. It was supposed to keep me healthy for a long time, and I was more pleased about it than all the other things. Well, Grandma insisted on giving me a computer. I was pretty familiar with those things, but I hadn't had one of my own yet. Why should I have one? I was rarely at home.
What a celebration they had. After the various speeches from my father and some uncles, the evening dragged on. Luckily, the whole thing devolved into a kind of standing party, so I was able to sneak away with Peter and Steve for a while. I felt like having a cigarette and a strong glass of red wine. I could have drunk it on its own, but it tasted better surrounded by people who meant something to me.
We sneaked into the kitchen, where I was never normally present. The cooks almost fell into their pots when we showed up there late at night. I felt like they'd been paralyzed with an electric shocker. But after a few words of explanation, the mood lifted, and we had a truly wonderful hour together. We smoked like crazy with the cooks, drank sherry and wine, nibbled on lobster tails, and spooned caviar. I hadn't felt this comfortable in a long time.
Slightly tipsy, we returned to the ballroom. No one had really missed us; there were too many people there.
My father stepped in front of me.
"You know we're starting our European trip in four weeks?"
Sure, how could I have forgotten? Luckily, nothing highly official this time. A visit to the Airbus production facilities. Hamburg, Toulouse, Illescas, Cadiz. A week to see something other than just politicians, and somehow I was actually looking forward to it. And the best thing was – none of my nieces or other hangers-on were there. My grandmother, father, the finance and education ministers, and then the usual entourage. I wondered about some of them, though, what they were doing on such a tour, but it wasn't up to me to decide—not yet. In Hamburg, a reception with the German Chancellor was scheduled. Oh well, whatever. I'll survive, I thought to myself. Peter didn't have time, which I was very sorry about, because with him by my side, everything would have been even better. After all, we were very interested in aviation, and I wanted to become an air force officer one day.
It was well past midnight when the first guests left, and I was dead tired. I still hadn't fully digested the previous night, and I was really glad to be getting into bed. Steven had left early; he was also completely exhausted. Peter followed shortly after, and from then on, of course, things got really boring.
It was finally three in the morning before the last person left the house. Feeling completely exhausted, I pulled myself up the railing to my rooms on the upper floor. I could no longer see or hear anything.
But I couldn't sleep for a while. I had 20 text messages on my phone, and of course I had to read them first. Almost all of my friends from university had contacted me. Steven was one of them.
"Hi Wallice. I hope you're doing well after such a stressful night. I wanted to apologize for the kiss, it really slipped up. But... I don't think you're holding a grudge. Or do you see me differently when you're sober? I didn't want to ask you that tonight, it was so nice. Have a good night. Cheers, Steve."
Aha, sure. He was afraid I would still hold it against him. I didn't. I lay down on my bed and read the message a few more times. I saw Steve again, felt his gentle, soft lips on my cheek. Saw those sparkling eyes, that smile.
I turned off the light and turned on my side. Even though I was so tired, I couldn't get Steve out of my head. I had so many other things to keep me busy. My presents, my new car, the trip through Europe. No, Steve was stuck in my head like a Band-Aid, blocking the flow of other thoughts.
Again and again, his face appeared before me. That cute little snub nose, those eyes. And... did I just smell him? Not perfume. I ran my trembling fingers over the spot where his kiss had landed. Was it just now? Was it even there? What was happening right now?
Stirred by my emotions, I stood up and went to the window. A few lanterns in front of the house provided enough light to see the bodyguards making their rounds. One of the men raised his hand and waved to me cautiously. These people missed nothing, absolutely nothing.
And at that moment, a curtain rose. It slid silently upward, as one sees in a play. Behind it, another world revealed itself to me.
What happened the other day in Dartmoor? The Prime Minister had invited me to a reception. I don't remember the reason, but it doesn't matter. Anyway, I was walking towards the entrance next to my father when a young bodyguard stood in front of me. He stared at me and nodded very furtively; no one but me noticed. Then he stepped aside and let me pass. Well, at that moment his face appeared again in my mind's eye. He had been a very handsome young man, but I only realized it then. I had met him a few times that evening, and it was always that look. From then on, I knew that I was attracted to him in the same way; I had simply ignored it.
"You can't be gay," I told myself quietly. "You're not allowed to be. Blue bloods are never gay."
The guard kept looking up at me at the window. He could only see my shadow, because it was dark in my room.
Did they realize what might be wrong with me? Didn't I once read that gay men can sense when their own kind is nearby? Did Steve only kiss me because he was sure he would?
I felt hot. Very hot. Why weren't Beatrice, Jane, or Rachel vying for me in my head? That would have been logical.
I sat back on my bed and stared at my phone. I had to answer Steve, no matter what.
A flash of lightning lit up my room. Was this a sign? Was something I'd never expected beginning? And what if it really was?
It would probably remain my secret for life. I had to find a noble woman, marry her, and have children. That was what etiquette demanded. A gay prince? In this country? Never.
Thunder confirmed to me that I hadn't been dreaming. From that night on, my life would look different. No, not one life. Two. The one the state wanted to see and the one I was truly living. My life.
I felt tears in my eyes. Not that they were tears of disappointment in myself or my feelings. No, it was nothing but the certainty that I would never be able to be the person I truly am.
It was the second morning in a row that I wasn't feeling particularly well. But this time it wasn't just the alcohol that was to blame.
"Hey, is something wrong?" my dad immediately wanted to know when I walked into the dining room. He was always a good observer, which sometimes got on my nerves.
I couldn't tell him what was going on, never. He was one of those arch-conservatives who abhorred any kind of alternative lifestyle. And gay people were at the top of that list anyway. Admittedly, I'd never given it much thought, because I had no contact with them.
With them? Thinking like that sent shivers down my spine. I belonged to them, even if I might not have wanted to admit it at the time.
"No, it's nothing."
I sensed that he didn't believe me.
"Here, read this," he said, handing me a list. The itinerary of our European trip.
"If you want to make small changes, do so early. You know the minutes have to be ready three days in advance. I'll leave you now; I have to go to Parliament. See you then."
He stroked my hair, something I'd never minded all these years. That morning, for the first time, I flinched at the touch, and Dad noticed.
But he just grinned from ear to ear.
"Aha, my boy is grown up."
With this strange saying he left me sitting there and disappeared.
There were a few interesting things on the list. I was most looking forward to Hamburg. I think I'd been there before, but I could barely remember it. It was cold, and I was grumpy. Somehow, I'd lost my stuffed teddy bear.
"Welcome by the Mayor of Hamburg on the Town Hall Square. Followed by a visit to the Airbus production facility in Hamburg-Finkenwerder. Afterward, a meeting with the Chancellor of the Federal Republic of Germany at the Town Hall. In the evening, a banquet will take place in the Great Hall."
Well, that was fine with me; it certainly didn't sound like stress. After all, that was threatening me from a completely different direction: constant stress with my emotions.
I retreated to my room. Luckily, it was vacation time and I didn't have to worry about things like studying.
I held my cell phone in front of me and was tempted to call Steve. But I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to do it. Peter? Not him either, I'd lose him if he found out. I couldn't expect him to understand. Peter was a bit of a womanizer, and I'd often noticed that he liked seeing me in the company of young ladies. Maybe he even had a double wedding in mind, who knew? But the fact that his best friend was gay would probably be a disaster for him. Somehow I could see my chances of survival slipping away. Surely I could keep it a secret until old age. But did I really want that, at the cost of the crown? Admittedly, the idea of being king did appeal to me someday.
But during this time, I also thought about all the others. Those who weren't fortunate enough to grow up at court and had to live in poverty out there. Those who barely had enough money for clothes and food and had to fight the battle for survival every day. Alcohol, drugs, and prostitution were never far away. I was aware of these circumstances, but I regularly repressed them.
"Most people are to blame themselves," I often heard when this topic came up. But I always had the feeling that no one here really wanted anything to do with it.
Every day, there was something about us in the newspaper. Some kind of visit, a celebration, a wedding, or a birthday. Then I pictured the beggars and the stranded in my mind's eye, fishing the newspapers out of the trash cans and looking at the photos. All that food, the outrageously expensive dresses and suits, the beaming faces. How must a person feel on the edge of the abyss?
Maybe I didn't fit in here at all. I was born into high society through no fault of my own. I increasingly hated my fickleness, yet I didn't know how to deal with it.
"There's someone out there who will desire and understand you," I heard myself thinking.
Out there? I could never be there.
My cell phone rang.
"Hello Steve."
"Well, my prince, how are you this morning?"
I was happy to hear his voice.
"You shouldn't always call me Prince," I complained into the phone.
"But you are."
"Yeah, okay, what's up?"
I swallowed. There was nothing I longed for more than him, and nothing I feared more intensely.
"Tomorrow is a fox hunt. You're definitely there?"
Fox hunting. It was a nightmare, and I hated it. I loved animals, no matter what form they took, and foxes especially. These cunning, secretive creatures; they had a right to life like the rest of us. But the nobility saw it differently. Not that they didn't like those little dogs, but they had been hunted for hundreds of years. And somehow, no one really cared about the brutality of this "sport."
But I had to go; we were expected to participate once a year. Everyone was really excited about this day, and I was the only one who kept my deep dislike to myself. Well, Steve had complained the last time, too. He'd said something about murder, but we had no way to escape the carnage.
"Yeah, sure, I'm in."
"Great. We're riding together, right?"
"Secure."
"Is something wrong?"
"No, Steve, it's nothing. See you tomorrow."
Of course, Steven was sensitive enough to realize that something was wrong with me. I suspected that Steve was only riding along because I was there.
I threw myself onto my bed. There was nothing I hated more than fox hunting, but I couldn't exclude myself from it. Even a prince can get sick sometimes. I began to think of a simple yet effective cure.
There was no illness involved. A look in the mirror that morning was enough for me; I looked the picture of health; no one would have believed I was sick.
So I put on my riding attire. I thought it suited me very well. Just not for this occasion.
And the sun was shining. No bad weather, no storm. Nothing that could have spoiled the hunt. I like the sun and summer, but on this day I would have preferred a massive storm.
What always made me happiest were the many dogs, and Fips was my favorite. The smallest of all the dogs. Sometimes I'd put him on my horse when the route became too long for him. He belonged to Lord John, but whenever the little one saw me, he would regularly freak out.
The proud horse stood next to me.
"Hello, my prince," Steven said, so quietly that only I could hear. What did he look like on his black horse? More like a prince than me.
"Hello Steve. You're supposed to..."
"...don't call me prince," he laughed. "But what can I do? You are and will always be."
Steve was a beauty among all the others here; he was simply handsome. That pale face, his dark hair curling out from under his riding helmet, giving the boy a certain wildness. Those eyes, that dazzling smile, and the narrow waist in his riding uniform. Wouldn't I much rather have been galloping with him at a gallop through woods and meadows, always close together? Just for fun?
But the whole group gathered as usual in the courtyard of the stud farm, which was attached to the country estate.
Sparkling wine, red wine, and Campari. The riders fortified themselves with these, and then the race began. Cross-country, followed by the press. And I even thought I saw a camera crew in the yard. They were capable of following us in a helicopter.
Steve and I kept a low profile. What had once been a given for me took on a whole new dimension after his coming out.
In the middle of the forest, we had to stop at a tree trunk lying across the path, and there they were, the hyenas. A flurry of camera flashes, microphones, and questions.
Steve and I looked at each other. All I could say to the reporters was "no comment," and then we both dashed into the bushes. I knew fox hunting was going to be abolished, and that was what the questions were aimed at; but I was just as barred from commenting on it as Steven was.
We rode as if the devil himself were after us and soon after we had left the annoying questioners behind.
We dismounted at a small stream and watered our horses.
Without any words, Steve opened his saddlebags and began preparing a picnic.
"Let them come looking for us, I don't feel like chasing those poor animals. Our people saw we were there, so they couldn't care less."
I knew this would cause trouble. The court rarely forgave such antics, and I didn't feel comfortable. Dad would spank me—even at eighteen.
"Hey Wallice, what's up? Would you rather be with those murderers?"
"No, of course not."
"Then come on, I ordered some treats. But I don't feel like taking them back."
Bread, sausage, ham, smoked fish, cheese, tomatoes, fruit and a bottle of red wine soon adorned the blanket that Steve had spread out.
I sat cross-legged next to him. It was actually wonderful at that moment. But was it just the knowledge of a relatively carefree life? Food and drink? The beautiful summer day? Our horses, leisurely grazing the grass next to us?
No, that wasn't it alone; I felt it exactly. A fascination. Steve was to blame for my mood.
He ate like he hadn't had anything to eat in days. I had a bit of a hard time with that; every time I looked at him, my appetite diminished a little more. It wasn't because he was gay. It was because of me. Beads of sweat ran down my temples.
I watched his hands and fingers as he sliced the ham, quartered the tomatoes, and bit into the bread. His movements were sometimes delicate, and suddenly I felt drawn to him.
"Aren't you hungry? You haven't eaten in hours," he asked after a while, chewing.
"Yes, but..."
He looked at me with his beautiful eyes and I felt completely different again.
"But what?" he asked, nibbling at the fish.
"Nothing. It's nothing."
He dropped his hands into his lap and stared at me.
"What do you mean nothing?"
Suddenly, the smile disappeared from his lips. He stared at me for what seemed like an eternity.
"It's the kiss, isn't it? You reject me and my feelings, right?"
"No, Steve, not at all."
"Then may I find out what it is?"
"Let's open the wine," I said.
How Steve managed to get real glasses all the way here without breaking was a mystery to me.
We clinked glasses, his expression unwavering. He sensed something bubbling inside me, but he had no idea what it was.
After the alcohol had caused a pleasant burning sensation in my stomach, I couldn't hold back any longer. We were alone out here, no one could see us. And Steve was worth it.
I placed my hand on his arm, which earned me an incredulous look. I looked into those brown eyes, studied his eyelashes, his nose, his sensual mouth.
When Steve started blinking so funny, I let myself fall. Into a world I didn't yet know, but wanted to get to know. Slowly, our heads moved closer together.
"Steve, I don't know either..."
He held his index finger to my mouth.
"You don't have to talk now."
His kiss on my lips was tender, like a warm breeze that day. I almost didn't feel his hands stroking my back. But they were there.
It only took a few seconds, but they were enough to reveal my true feelings.
I ran my tongue over my lips.
"You taste totally fishy," I grinned.
"Well, that's your own fault," Steve laughed back. "If you'd eaten it, you wouldn't have noticed."
Gradually I started to get hungry and a little later there was hardly anything left of the picnic.
"So you like boys too?" Steve asked me after a long pause.
"I think that's probably how it is. But you already knew."
He looked at me thoughtfully.
"Didn't know—hoped. You've been on my mind lately, and I had no idea why. Until now."
His eyes suddenly widened.
"Shit."
"Hey, you don't say that."
"Yes. How do you plan to do that? If the press finds out, you can emigrate."
"Whether she finds out or not, I'm going to do it anyway."
He opened his eyes wide.
»Was?«
"Do you think I want to put down roots here? With a woman I can't love, with brats who annoy me day and night? No, Steve, I've already decided. I'll finish college in three years, and then it's time to call it a day. We can keep it a secret until then, right?"
He stroked my hair.
"Okay, I get it," he said, his disappointment with my plan evident.
I should have expected that, but it didn't matter anyway.
"And what about Peter? You'll have to tell him," he finally said.
"Not before. We're friends, yes, but if I tell him, it's over."
"Are you sure?"
"No, of course not. But in terms of percentages, as far as his acceptance goes, I see three zeros in front of him. He'll avoid me. And the later that happens, the better. I'll just live with a lie for so long, but I can't think of anything else."
We looked into each other's eyes for an eternity.
"What did you actually want to express with that kiss?" I asked.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, you intended that kiss; it was hardly coincidence or spontaneity."
He grinned.
"No, that was purely intentional."
"And did you do that because... because maybe you love me... a little?"
Steve shrugged.
"Come on, we have to go."
Dad's lecture that evening had been as expected. How dare I leave the entourage and so on.
"Wallice, I don't want you to go it alone. You have responsibilities, and you have to face them. Besides, you're eighteen now..."
I knew what was coming.
"You know that discipline is expected of you. We all hope that you don't break the honorable line with any escapades."
Suddenly he became very quiet.
"If you have to hang out with girls, please don't... just any girl off the street. There are plenty here who are your equal."
That was it, and I just nodded obediently, almost boiling over. It wasn't my dad speaking, it was the mob. They were demanding it. My father was by no means an angel of nobility. I knew there were parts of his past that appeared more than just gray. But apparently, he only wanted to warn me about the consequences of such missteps. But it was no use to him. No daughter-in-law, no grandchildren. When would I have to tell him?
After I finished my studies, I was truly on my own two feet and able to take care of myself.
My underlying fear that everything would come out through Steve was wearing me down. How much could I trust him? Was he so happy with our "relationship" that he'd blurt it out at an awkward moment? Unfortunately, he often hung out with the court's biggest gossips, and he wasn't a calculating type either. But I had to rely on his silence. Pointing it out to him again now would be seen as a breach of trust, and I couldn't do that to him.
The fact that he didn't answer my question about whether he loved me a little also bothered me. I couldn't say there was any love involved, at least not on my part. I liked him very much, no doubt about it. But love?
One day after the fox hunt, Peter came to visit, with Baroness Sonja von Altstetten in tow. Another old noblewoman, of German descent but living here. Peter was truly a womanizer; every month he dragged a different woman into the spotlight. But I didn't care.
Until this very evening.
I never really felt any auras or anything like that, but something inside me shrank when I saw this strange Sonja. Aside from the fact that she let her arrogance show in good time, I didn't like her whole demeanor. And she didn't like me, from the very first minute.
It was stupid that I'd once read that women could sense a man's homoerotic desires quite clearly. Not all of them, but not a few of them either. And I felt like she had seen through me from the very beginning.
"You've been more talkative before," Peter pointed out to me at dinner. I simply didn't dare to speak as freely as usual. This woman set off all the red lights in my head, and I sensed that she posed a certain danger. Her nature was perfect for destroying friendships. Jealousy at its finest. I didn't dare look her in the eye and avoided every unnecessary word.
Later, when I went to my room to check my phone, Peter suddenly appeared behind me.
"Tell me, what's wrong with you? I've never seen you like this before."
I looked at him, perhaps for the first time through the eyes of a gay man. Peter was a bit taller than me, slim, with dark blond hair. Only now did I really notice his blue eyes, his mouth. Was that the urge to kiss him?
I was ashamed of my thoughts, from which he then tore me.
He grabbed me quite roughly by the arms.
"Sonja is a beautiful, lovely woman. But you don't have to worry about me dumping you because of her. We're friends, don't forget that."
I venomized him.
"Oh yeah? Her looks... if they could kill. What did you tell her about me?"
He swallowed and stared at me.
"What's with that tone? And what am I supposed to have said? The usual stuff. What we do... But tell me, you haven't usually worried about this sort of thing, have you?"
"No, that wasn't necessary there either. But with her, it was. She's jealous of me, even a blind man with a crutch can tell."
"You see ghosts."
"No, Peter, I don't. She's not for you. I'll give you four weeks, then the sparks will fly."
He grabbed me even tighter and shook me.
"Say, do you spin?"
"No, definitely not. Now please leave me alone, I don't want to face her again."
He ran to the door and closed it.
He slowly came to me.
"Wallice, what on earth has gotten into you? There's something wrong with you."
I sat down on the bed and buried my face in my hands; Peter didn't have to see my tears. I'd never cried in front of him, nor he in front of me. But now it was time; I was breaking through. If he was defending his Baroness and ignoring my warnings, then he might as well know the truth about me. Peter would keep quiet, I knew that. We wouldn't be able to be friends anymore, but I could count on his discretion—and I didn't have to endure Sonja's closeness anymore.
He took my hands and pulled them away from my face. I was really embarrassed looking at him with my wet face, but I didn't have the strength to resist.
He took me in his arms and hugged me.
"Idiot. I always told you I'd never let you down. I'd rather send women to hell. You're far too important in my life."
His words only made things worse.
"Would you still do that... if you knew... that your best friend was gay?"
Fog appeared all around me. A cold, gray fog, and it obscured my thoughts and feelings. It was as if I no longer had any legs. I was just floating in a monotony of space and time.
Peter's embrace didn't break. He still held me tight, stroking my back with his hands, while my arms hung limply at my sides. I wanted to, but I couldn't, touch him. Perhaps also out of fear that he might misunderstand.
The door burst open. I flinched at first, then all I could see were angry, glaring eyes. Normally, I would have verbally escorted this woman out of the property, but I was simply speechless at her impudence.
Peter's embrace loosened and he turned around.
»Sonja?«
"Aha. Very interesting. What's going on here? Is our gay prince trying to seduce you?"
On the one hand, I couldn't believe it, but on the other, my suspicions were confirmed. It was even worse than my wildest dreams had predicted. Now it was up to Peter to get the situation under control.
"What nonsense are you talking about? How did you even come up with that?" he then asked.
"What? That your so-called friend is gay? I already knew, even before I met him. You just have to look closely at the photos. Or watch him on TV. He's after you, right? Great. The future king is gay."
She leaned provocatively against the doorframe and crossed her arms.
"Peter, don't let anyone know. They'll drag you into this, and then you'll have to start working as a garbage collector."
I stared at him; Peter, my best friend...
Seconds later I knew I had lost him.
He slowly turned around and looked at me. He did this for a long time, his breathing visibly nervous. He seemed to be fighting a bitter battle with himself. Here was his best friend of ages, there was a surely pretty woman. Yes, and he could do a lot more with her than with a gay man. I felt Peter moving away from me. Slowly but surely.
Again he looked over at Sonja, who was still leaning against the doorframe. She was expecting a reaction, no matter what kind. Peter knew she'd talk if he told her to go to hell because of me. He couldn't care less about me, but that bitch would claim he was gay. That wouldn't work, of course, so I turned away from him and went to the window.
"Peter, it's better if you go," I said quietly, and the fog was still there. Or were tears feigning it?
I felt his eyes on my back. Sonja said nothing; I wouldn't have listened anyway. Losing your best friend was probably not something she'd ever know. But at that moment, I wished on her everything you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy. I ruled out Peter; he couldn't act any differently.
"What is it? Didn't you hear him? Come on, this environment is driving me crazy."
Every word she spoke was like a dagger in my chest. If Peter had been Steven, I would have killed her, under that door.
"How dare you? Don't forget where you are," I snarled viciously.
For a moment she seemed perplexed, then she put on this disgusting grin.
"How could I forget? Sorry, I'm standing opposite Prince Wallice. Unfortunately, he seems a bit out of character. And does he have the right to talk to normal people like that?"
When Peter didn't move, she ran to him, grabbed his sleeve, and pulled him behind her. Until that second, I had hoped he would choose me, but he didn't. His fear was too great, and I understood him. My anger was focused solely on her. She probably still had those medieval genes in her blood that favored witch burnings. She certainly would have loved to see me burned at the stake.
I stood at the window for a long time, watching the two of them get into the car. Peter looked up at me once, then they roared out the exit.
I had no more tears. Deep down, I knew this wasn't goodbye forever, couldn't be. He would soon throw that bitch out, no matter what the argument. Maybe he was smart enough to find out something about her past. The smallest thing would be enough to silence her.
I had to wait; we were far too attached to each other. So I almost considered this process a plan.
For the next three weeks, I was busy with visits, conferences, inaugurations, and openings of numerous institutions. Peter visited me a few times without his new acquaintance, but we never spoke about that evening. I only felt the wall that had built up between us. Apparently, he was more attached to her than to me, and although I regretted it, I had to accept it.
I rarely saw Steve; he said he had to study hard because his grades weren't the best.
The evenings had been the worst so far. Dad was apparently in some kind of new relationship, and I was happy for him. After all, it had been five years since Mom died, so why shouldn't he be allowed to fall in love again? The only reason for the fire was because his new girlfriend wasn't from the court. This really stirred up the mob again, and I stopped reading the latest news about his romance in the gossip magazines.
For these reasons, he did not want to take her with him on the trip.
The European trip was slowly approaching. Finally, a change, finally something different to see. On the one hand, I was thrilled when Peter told me on the phone that he could come along after all. On the other hand, there was a damper because he wanted to take his Sonja with him. Well, I would stay as far away from her as possible. By now, I'd also acquired a small emotional cushion that allowed me to take the whole thing less seriously.
The day before departure was, of course, hectic as always. I didn't have to gather my clothes; the valet took care of that. Partly because I couldn't wear what I wanted anyway, it didn't matter. At best, my underwear had a chance. And I took advantage of it. Fine retro dresses and white T-shirts were in.
That evening, Dad told me he was proud of me and that he wanted me to be his representative once he ascended the throne. It was kind of strange, because I loved my grandmother and hoped she would rule this country for a long time to come.
The next morning, we drove to the airport in six limousines. It was pouring with rain, but according to the weather forecast, the sun was shining in Hamburg. I was looking forward to the trip, even though I knew Peter and Sonja would be in one of the cars. Dad, Grandma, and I drove in separate cars; we didn't want to take any risks. Even in our country, you weren't always safe everywhere. So we flew to Hamburg on more than one plane.
Landing in Hamburg. The plane with Grandma and the MPs was already there, then we arrived.
The sun was indeed shining, and the reception was truly overwhelming. I walked alongside Dad and Grandma, greeting the guard battalion that had formed a long line next to the red carpet. I surreptitiously glanced at one or two of the guards. There were some handsome boys among them, albeit a bit older. It was a good thing that no one could read my thoughts at that moment.
The mayor welcomed us, along with a number of other dignitaries, and after the usual ceremony, we drove in a procession to the town hall. A surprising number of people stood along the side of the road and waved to us. Again, my eyes searched for something that would gladden my heart. But there was nothing. No boy who could have granted my wish. Girls, women, older men. Sure, who else would be interested in us? Thanks to Grandma's new computer, I learned online that I had many female fans in Germany. Sure, it would be a good match... "...the very handsome Prince of Witham is apparently still single..." it said. And that's why they were all there that day. Because of me...
Admittedly, it was a nice feeling. Still, I often thought about Steve sitting at home studying. Was he thinking about me too? I sent him a text message from the car.
The cars stopped right in front of the town hall, and again I was amazed at how many people were gathered there. They shouted and clapped, but I didn't miss the fact that there were also banners against us in the distance. "Stop the fox hunt," I could read. Yes, people here were against this animal cruelty, too, and I was secretly pleased by this demonstration, albeit small.
We walked towards the entrance of the town hall and suddenly I saw some boys enthusiastically waving flags.
I don't remember why, but one of them had a magical pull on me. His face, his hair, his figure, the look in his eyes. Steve lost all of his importance in that moment. As if compelled, I headed toward him, my eyes fixed on his. It was like an inner command. As soon as I was within arm's length, he grabbed my hand.
At that moment, a flash blinded my eyes, followed by a deafening bang. His grip hurt, almost like a vice, and he pulled me into the crowd. Suddenly, all around me were screaming people. I turned around and saw the bodysuits quickly dragging my father and grandmother away. Peter ran to a lifeless body in the street, and for a few seconds, I thought of Sonja.
Screams filled the air, into which a thick, black cloud of smoke rose. Unimaginable panic surrounded me, but the vise still gripped my arm and began to pull me along. No one paid any attention; I had become part of these panicked people. This stranger pulled me further and further along in the stream of the fleeing crowd.
Sirens, helicopters, loudspeaker announcements. Sweat was pouring down my body, and after the shock, I was slowly starting to panic myself.
But above all, who was the young guy who was constantly pulling me along with him?
Axel--
Hamburg,
(before
a
Month)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I woke up on this crappy morning feeling completely worn out; yesterday's party had been pretty intense. The whole thing with Felix was particularly bothering me. Did this incident have to happen in the bathroom?
The fact that I gave him a blow job was fine. But that relationship stuff I then blurted out with my broad head. Crap.
I had zero desire for a relationship with Felix and was talking such nonsense. Like, I loved him and all that. I guess I had a lot to set right.
I pushed these thoughts aside for the time being, because my primary concern now was to do something about my headache. So I went into our kitchen and found my roommates already there.
Living in a shared apartment had its advantages and disadvantages. One advantage was that I got away from my parents. One disadvantage was that I lived with arguably the two sloppiest people on the planet. Together with me, we formed the infernal trio. The kitchen looked accordingly. Pots, bowls, and plates were piled up on and in the sink. Some things came to life just by looking at them.
I had to throw up and ran to the bathroom. This sight, coupled with my hangover, was just too much for me.
After throwing up and brushing my teeth, I went back to the kitchen, where two malicious faces were already grinning at me.
"Well, did you have a rough night?"
The person who said that was Shokki. His real name is Rainer. But since the name didn't suit him at all, and he wasn't even 40 yet, he used that nickname. Shokki was our tinkerer. He tore apart everything he could get his hands on. Unfortunately, he then had trouble reassembling the devices properly.
I only had to think of my DVD player, which he wanted to repair. Now it was lying nonfunctional in some corner.
Then there was Jo (from Joachim).
Jo is a cerebral person, a brooder. Before he does something, he thinks about it for hours. He considers all eventualities, and once he's finished thinking, he starts over.
The two could talk for hours about any topic of global politics, preferably at night, with a bottle of red wine and some weed to smoke.
We'd known each other since childhood. Even though we were very different, we complemented each other perfectly. Each had their own strengths and weaknesses, which we tolerated.
I hadn't yet discovered my strengths, but I had discovered my weaknesses. And there were quite a few.
Men.
Meaning: my dick-ven thinking. But enough of that.
"What kind of night?" I was still not quite there and got an aspirin from the cupboard.
"Well, last night? You seem to have had a rough night."
"How come?"
"So, because of the vomiting?"
"When I see you this early in the morning? Is it a miracle?"
"Early morning?" The two laughed. "It's 3 p.m."
"I told you, early morning. And what did you do yesterday?"
"We didn't do anything, we just did things," Jo clarified, sipping his tea.
"Sure. When was the last time you had contact with a female? In the last century?"
I should also mention that they both like women. Well, not everyone can be perfect.
"Not everyone has to whore around like you."
"So what did you do? Play do-gooders again?"
"I've never seen such an apolitical person as you, Axel."
"Bal blah, what are you trying to accomplish?"
"Here," said Shokki, and handed me an article from Attac. Something about the British royal family, but I wasn't particularly interested. I found the picture of Prince Wallice much more interesting.
"Hmm, he's cute. I definitely wouldn't say no to him."
The two looked at each other in disbelief and shook their heads.
"I think if you didn't have your dick, you wouldn't have a brain at all."
"Why? He's really cute!"
"You're not supposed to look at that aristocratic ass, you're supposed to read the article. Do you actually know how much tax money the royal family wastes on such nonsense as receptions, etc.?"
»Well.«
"You don't care either, do you?"
"Not really."
"What they're doing is pure money-wasting, for nothing."
"Hmm, the tourism industry benefits from this."
"Tourism industry! When I hear that."
It wasn't too difficult to get Jo really angry. He likes to get worked up about this and that. About everything, really. I usually left him alone and pissed off. But what did he have against the tourism industry? Hadn't he just flown on vacation with LTU this summer?
But I probably shouldn't have mentioned that, otherwise he would have beheaded me.
The two of them started arguing, and I felt somehow out of place. So I left them alone and went to my room.
I needed to talk to Felix to clarify this matter, so I called him.
“Felix Brückner,” he answered the phone.
»Hi, Axel here.«
"Oh, back from the dead?"
"Don't ask, I still feel like shit."
"I can imagine, the way you got there yesterday."
"Yeah, it was shit. Can we meet somewhere?"
"At your place or mine?"
"I was thinking more about the main station?"
"Yeah, okay, when?"
"About two hours?"
"Okay, should work, in front of McDoof, Wandelhalle?"
"Great, see you later."
»Jupp.«
The concourse of Hamburg Central Station is the main station, housing several shops and restaurants. McDonald's is located on the first floor, which is more of a gallery. It's a perfect meeting place, as travelers tend to hang out on the ground floor or walk through it breathlessly.
Another advantage is that the main station is the hub of Hamburg's subway and S-Bahn network, making it relatively easy to reach.
I arrived at the station half an hour early. I slowly trudged up the steps of the gallery and went to the passage next to McDoof. There I leaned on the railing to watch the trains coming and going. I kind of like train stations; they always gave me a feeling of wanderlust. Another thing I liked was people-watching. I would then spin little stories about the people waiting or milling around there.
Who could the elderly man on the corner be waiting for? His grandchildren, whom he'd invited to McDonald's? His wife, who was out shopping? Or one of the numerous prostitutes hanging around?
The young girl who was also leaning against the railing five meters away from me. I wondered if she had a boyfriend yet. She was probably just waiting for her friends to come back so she could gossip about other boys.
Most of the time, I was completely wrong. The older gentleman was greeted by another older gentleman with a kiss on the mouth. I had to grin.
The girl was picked up by a woman, probably her mother.
My gaze fell on a guy reading a newspaper. A huge headline on the front page of a famous tabloid:
"Queen Patricia visits Germany." Below is a picture of her, her son, and her grandson, who would presumably also be coming. Prince Wallace. Wow. This guy is a real hottie.
My thoughts wandered and I thought of Felix again. He's sweet and nice, which is probably why I couldn't imagine a relationship with him. Felix is just too sweet. There were simply no points of friction that could have caused us to clash. He would rather back down than start an argument with me, and I didn't need that. I needed someone with rough edges, someone my equal. But I had to find someone like that first, and that was easier said than done. It wasn't like I had any real problems getting to know someone. But usually it was just for one night. I really am incapable of relationships, like Jo and Shokki always claim.
The list of my relationships is really short. Just one. Wow! I was with Sven for three months, and things were going really well. Until the day I got into bed with someone else; my dick had won again. Sven somehow got the hang of it. We had a huge fight, and we eventually broke up, or rather, he broke up with me.
The list of my sexual partners is, um, longer. Much longer. I can't even get them all together anymore. I guess I'm actually quite a slut in that regard.
Basically, I hated myself for it. The evening was always nice. Getting to know each other, the new body, the sex itself. The morning after was just shit. This guilty conscience was literally eating me up. A guilty conscience because I couldn't give the other person what they might have wanted: a relationship.
I had sex with a boy for the first time when I was 15. It was a classmate who I'm still friends with today. I'd never given girls a single thought. I'd always known that I was gay. Coming out didn't bother me either. I just did it without giving it too much thought. It was harder for my parents. That was one reason why I moved out of home when I was 18. That was a year ago. My parents have come to terms with it now. What else could they do? It was positive for all of us that I no longer lived at home and that we saw each other every day. That took our relationship in a different, more positive, more distant direction.
Felix came towards me with a big grin.
He hugged me.
"Hey, nice to see you."
Somewhat embarrassed, I grinned back and said:
"It's nice that you have time."
"Sure, always for you. Where do we want to go?"
»Hmm, ins Schweinske?«
»Okay.«
Schweinske is located right next to McDonald's and is a restaurant chain serving home-style food.
We sat down at a table and ordered from the waitress. Felix had a salad with roasted turkey breast, and I had spaghetti Bolognese.
»Axel?«
»Hmm?«
"Well, tell me, what's going on?"
"About last night, what I said."
"You mean your declaration of love? It was really sweet."
Oh shit, how was I supposed to get out of this? I tried a different approach.
"That was shitty of me. I don't love you and probably never can."
So, the hard way. Yes, I'm a callous jerk sometimes.
"You spoilsport!"
Now I was surprised by this answer.
"What? A spoilsport?"
"I really wanted to watch you fidgeting around for hours—and you? You're ruining everything! Damn."
"Oops, that was the last thing I expected."
"Sure, you don't really think we're even remotely compatible, do you? Well, I certainly don't. And then your rambling yesterday, wow, so awful, no, Axel, we just aren't compatible."
"I know, but I still love you very much."
"I love you too. But please never again have a scene like yesterday, okay? If you want to have sex, just say so, and that's it. You don't need to interrupt yourself like that."
"Hmm, okay. Friends?"
"Forever."
And once again, my understanding of human nature had completely failed me. Perhaps I should work on that. While I had expected the worst: whining and whining, I was now completely taken by surprise.
Inwardly I made three crosses, and the rumble of the stone that had been lifted from my heart could probably be heard for miles.
It's funny how you can be mistaken about people.
We said goodbye shortly afterward and promised to stay in touch. This contact then turned into seeing each other almost daily.
So it happened that I hung out at Felix's most evenings, and we talked about everything except sex between us. It became a taboo subject. A positive one. We were friends and no longer sexual partners, and that helped us progress enormously.
What took a huge back seat was shared apartment life. I used to be able to talk to them about anything—really anything. About our sexuality, even to the point where Shokki liked to jerk off in the bathroom. Why? I don't know. He just liked looking at himself in the mirror while doing it. Period. Well, we knew the smallest of secrets about each other. And now?
We were silent. No, or rather, they were silent. Somehow, I felt like the fifth wheel.
Well, we were growing up—whatever that meant. But like this? That it would ruin our friendship? Then I don't want to grow up!
It wasn't that the two of them were hostile towards me, it was more a vague feeling of no longer being understood.
We increasingly talked past each other. The worst part was that we all understood it, but no one did anything about it. The problems were increasingly silenced. Whereas before, we could have spent hours discussing who had what problems with whom, today we just kept silent.
We grew distant from each other. Yes, we lived together, but no longer with each other.
Other topics became more important to the two of them. For example: We were watching the news together, which included a short report on a fox hunt in England. On the TV pictures, I also saw Prince Wallice hunting with others. There had been a long-standing debate in England about whether this tradition should be abolished. Personally, I couldn't stand this animal slaughter any more than Jo and Shokki. But the two of them were once again working themselves into such a rage that I mentally tuned out and looked at the prince. He didn't look particularly happy either. Hmm, maybe he hated hunting just like most people. And I voiced this suspicion out loud. Now I had become the enemy, and the two of them attacked me. So much for talking past each other.
The stupid thing was that I probably suffered more from this situation than the two of them combined. I still loved them. Like brothers. Which they once were to me – since I never had any siblings, they became a damn good substitute.
What I also liked was our apartment. A classic old building, with high, stucco-decorated walls. Four rooms with a long hallway, a bathroom that was too small but a large kitchen. Hardwood floors in every room, which we painstakingly sanded, resealed, and polished when we moved in.
And our neighbors… a topic in itself.
Directly across the hall from us is the Grabner family, probably the most normal people in the house. Both in their mid-30s, with two boys: Tom, 17, and Sascha, 16. Corinna, our neighbor, was pregnant at 17, had her other baby at 18. Sven, her husband, didn't run away right away, but got married—well, that's still possible.
The two of them were now making up for their lost teenage years. They were out on Fridays and Saturdays after 10 p.m. To discos. I probably would have done the same. The kids are grown up, so what the heck.
The two of them were already pretty good. In some way—presumably mentally—they were still 25. They both exemplified that.
The two "children" couldn't be more different. Corinna still claims today that they must have been mistaken for one another in the hospital. I had already come to that conclusion—if only it weren't for their physical appearance. They looked like brothers and acted like them, too.
Sascha, the younger of the two, shagged anything that wasn't nailed down, preferably in his room on Fridays and Saturdays after 10 p.m. Mind you, it was the opposite sex, whose screams then echoed throughout the house.
Tom? The exact opposite. While Sascha was very extroverted, Tom was very introverted. Actually, he was the cuter of the two, but he'd never brought home a girlfriend. Let alone vomited all over the stairwell; unlike his brother.
Personally, I was leaning toward the idea that Tom was gay. Why? My understanding of human nature. Ha, ha.
The Harlings lived above us, a retired couple who'd apparently been married for ages. Mrs. Harling had a budgie with whom she had lively conversations. Her husband, a notorious complainer, hadn't spoken to his wife in decades. Is that why they're still together? Hmm, no one knows.
Across the street from Harlings lived Mr. Sachsleer, or the Phantom, as we called him. A man who came home from work, closed his door, and that was it. No visitors, nothing, just always at home.
When you rang his doorbell, he didn't open the door. A loner, Shokki once suspected he was a typical "Messi." Well, as long as no rats are running out of his apartment? Let him do it. To each his own.
Susanne lived below us. This woman had really given us a headache at first. Single, extremely attractive, in her early 30s, very well-groomed, a top-notch woman without a job. Jo guessed she'd inherited the apartment from her husband. She'd given the doddering old man in bed a little help so he could finally get off his feet.
Until one day, at 2:00 a.m., I saw Susanne in her work clothes. A whore straight out of a trashy novel. But that's exactly what she looked like. High heels, fishnet tights, a miniskirt, a red leather jacket, all very figure-hugging. We met in the stairwell, and at first I didn't know what to say, but then curiosity got the better of me:
"Hi, Susanne, need to pick someone up?"
"Hi, Axel, no job!"
"You're going to work as a prostitute?"
"Yep, why? Didn't you know?"
"No! And where?"
»Herbertstrasse.«
"Herbertstrasse? Oh shit."
"Why the hell? There's nothing better."
Susanne looked at her watch, then at me and finally said:
"Hmm, a customer at this time of night is unlikely, so it's time to call it a day! Wouldn't you like another glass of red wine, Axel?"
"Cut down."
So it happened that Susanne invited me to her apartment and we talked.
Her apartment was WOW! There's no other way to put it. Modern and cozy. White leather furniture on white tiles, pictures that were probably real, not art prints, adorned the wall. I was particularly taken with the pictures hanging there; their cozy colors contrasted with the rest. Indescribable, but somehow everything fit together. Almost too perfectly.
What made this apartment cozy were these little things: cushions on the floor, perfectly coordinated with the wall colors. Candles, and more.
Simply beautiful.
I was fascinated. Fascinated by the colors and by this apartment. Most of all, I was fascinated by this woman, who, now in more comfortable clothes, seemed like a friend to me.
"So, tell me, what do you have against Herbertstrasse?"
Herbertstrasse is probably the most famous street in Hamburg, next to the Reeperbahn. I went there once out of curiosity. It's not even a proper street, with cars and all. Shielded off from the Reeperbahn by a screen, Herbertstrasse can only be entered through a small door. Herbertstrasse is off-limits to women. It's a dead-end street lined with shop windows where prostitutes lounge. You can enter the shop windows through a recessed door and then disappear with the ladies into a back room, invisible from the outside.
"I find it quite inhumane, like a meat inspection, which is what it is."
"Stop, my dear, not so fast."
I looked at her questioningly and she continued:
"So: Herbertstrasse is the best thing there is for prostitutes and clients alike. Now don't look so skeptical, it's true. First of all, it's all legal. All the women have a license, are examined once a month, and pay their taxes.
We're sitting in the warmth and don't have to wait outside in the freezing cold for clients. But most importantly, it's relatively safe. We don't have pimps, but rather a private security service.
Secondly, it's easier for the clients because we have a flat rate, and they don't have to pay for another dirty hourly hotel.
"Hmm, I haven't looked at it from that perspective yet."
"There are long lists of whores on Herbertstrasse who also want to work there. And get rid of your stereotypical thinking. What about poor women being forced into it? There are certainly plenty of them, but most of us do it for the money. At least I do, and because I want to fuck. Yes, it's that simple."
"But isn't it super gross to jump into bed with such a fat ass?"
"Of course it is. But what job is always fun? Besides, you don't have to take just anyone. That's certainly the biggest difference compared to women who have to work on the streets and then hand over their money to their pimps."
"But... um, why do you actually work as a prostitute? I mean, you're an intelligent woman?"
"Oh God, you mean why am I not sitting in an office somewhere as a secretary?"
"Yes, something like that."
"No, never mind. I don't feel like it. You'll laugh, but I actually trained as a freight forwarding clerk, but then quickly realized that wasn't my thing. Besides, I just like sex. Well, it's true. I had a few relationships, but no man could give me what I wanted: at least twice a day. Call me a nymphomaniac, which I guess I am, but I can't help it. And then a friend of mine who was working as a prostitute on Herbertstrasse asked me if I'd like to take her place because she wanted to quit. Yes, that was five years ago, and I've been doing it ever since."
"So, what do you want to do later?"
"You mean when I'm too old to get a suitor?"
I nodded timidly.
Susanne laughed.
"There's no need to be embarrassed, your biological clock is ticking too. I'm going to work as a prostitute for another three years and then off to Crete. I've already bought the house."
»Crete?«
"Hmm, yes, my dream island. I'll open a cute little restaurant there to take the tourists' money."
Susanne laughed. It was a pleasant, open laugh, just as the whole woman was very pleasant.
"And when it opens, you'll come visit me."
I had to grin.
"Yeah, I'll do it, with my dream prince."
"With pleasure, there will always be a bed ready for you to sleep in."
That, however, was never to happen. Two weeks later, Susanne's body was found in her back room on Herbertstrasse, stabbed to death by a crazed client who had taken too much speed that evening.
The doorbell rang. Awake, but still sleepy, I turned to the alarm clock: 1:00 PM. I waited another minute until it rang again.
"Yes, yes, I'm coming!"
Grumbling, I got up from my warm, cozy bed. Wearing only my H&M shorts, I went to open the door. Corinna was standing there, and a thousand words bombarded me at once. Without responding, I turned around and went into the kitchen.
"Corinna, come in, close the door and sit down."
She followed me, sat down on a chair at our kitchen table and looked at me.
“Would you like a coffee too?” I asked her.
"Gladly."
I took two pods out of the cupboard and put them in my newest acquisition, a Senseo coffee machine. I had treated myself to it three days ago because I found it incredibly practical. Jo and Shokki once again ranted about it, saying it would create even more trash and waste resources. But that didn't stop them from using it.
I put the two cups of coffee on the table.
Corinna took one and sipped from the cup.
"Thanks. Hmm, that's good."
"And Corinna? What's so important that you wake me up in the middle of the night?"
She grinned at me.
"Ah, Axel. I would have liked to study too, just to sleep in when I don't feel like going to university, wonderful."
I had to smile. I had already registered, but only for the next semester. After graduating, I just wanted to take a break. Do nothing for a year. Think about what I really wanted, just not start cramming endlessly again. My parents financed my apartment, and I made up the rest of the money by working at a gas station.
"Is that why you're here?"
"Oh no, it's because of Tom."
"Because of Tom? Did he do something?"
"Tom? Nonsense, you know him. It's more about what he didn't do."
»Corinna?«
»And?«
"I, Axel, am a man. You, Corinna, are a woman. A woman may not speak to a man in riddles."
Corinna, please forgive me.
"Funny. My husband always says that, too."
"And? Is he right?"
"When is a man ever right?"
Now I had to laugh.
"So what about Tom?"
Instead of answering, she reached into her backpack and pulled out a magazine, which she placed on the table. "Hinnerk," better known in Hamburg as the city's gay newspaper.
"Hmm. Don't you think he'll miss it?"
"Oh, there are dozens of them in his nightstand."
"So you're snooping on Tom?"
I couldn't suppress a smug grin.
Corinna blushed slightly.
"No! Of course not. But I have to know what's going on with my boy. He hardly talks to me anymore. Oh shit. Have I really failed so badly as a mother? Oh Axel, we're really tolerant now, and Tom could have come to us with it. As if we'd made a fuss about him being gay. Definitely not."
"I know, Corinna. But have you ever considered that Tom has to understand it himself first, and more importantly, accept it?"
Corinna looked at me helplessly.
"Tom is 17. He should know by then, right? I mean, you started at 15? Right?"
"Right. But Tom isn't Axel, and Axel isn't Tom. It's not exactly easy for a gay man to accept that. Some take months, for others, like me, it takes days. And still others don't realize it until they're 30, when they're married and have two children. Although "realize" might be the wrong word, "accept" is probably the more accurate one."
"But he could have talked to us about it?"
"So? What would you have answered his question: How do you know you're gay?"
"Hmm. Maybe I know what you mean. It's just so... hard. You understand? You look after him for 17 years and suddenly, from one day to the next, there's nothing you can do."
»Axel?«
"And, Corinna?"
"Couldn't you talk to him? I mean, like…"
"Gay to gay?"
"Yes, something like that. Or rather, from friend to friend?"
"Corinna! You don't want to set us up, do you?..."
She blinked her eyes.
"Oh... Axel. What are you thinking? Although, I could certainly imagine you as a son-in-law."
"Thanks. I'll talk to Tom, okay?"
She got up from her chair and hugged me so tightly that I could hardly breathe.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I met Tom two days later, on a Friday, in the stairwell.
I had just come from Felix's, my bike on my shoulder, and I unlocked the front door.
In one hand my front door key, in the other grabbing the bike by the frame,
I came through the door. The front wheel turned sideways, so I was wedged between the door and the wall. Tom came towards me and smiled.
"Well, do you need help?"
"Yes, this stallion here," I pointed to my bike, "is being stubborn again."
"Men, that's all."
We both had to grin. Tom took the bike from me so I could empty our mailbox. Most of it was for Jo. Various organizations were writing to him—and there were many. I overtook Tom on the stairs so I could open our apartment door.
Tom put my bike in the hallway and I threw the mail on the kitchen table.
»Tom?«
»And?«
"Do you have any plans today?"
"Hmm. Not really. I wanted to rent some DVDs. Nothing else."
"Don't you feel like staying here? Listen to music or something? I still have a bottle of vodka here, and nothing planned either."
I usually work at the gas station on Fridays, but today the boss wanted to train a new employee. And I actually liked it, too; the money should be enough to keep me from starving, so I agreed.
Tom looked down.
"Hey, I just mopped, the floor is clean, don't worry. Nothing's going to jump out at you."
He had to laugh. That was the first time I'd ever seen him really laugh. His eyes practically sparkled. I felt him grow a little. Not in terms of size, but in his charisma.
"You mean... um, you're inviting me?"
"If you want to put it that way? Sure, and would you like to?"
His eyes now reminded me of a fawn, completely intimidated. As if it had just crossed a road and was now standing in front of a car's blinding headlights. Not knowing where to run, frozen with fear, Tom stood before me.
It only took a few seconds for him to recover.
"I don't know. Surely you have better things to do?"
"As what?"
"Well, wanting to deal with me?"
"Nope! I didn't! So what?"
Still uncertain, Tom stared from one wall to the other.
"Yeah, okay, why not?"
I offered him a seat on my bed—or rather, mattress. His gaze wandered around the room and settled on a book on my table.
"Hey, I have that too."
"And what do you think?"
The book in question was "The Center of the World" by Andreas Steinhöfel.
"Hmm, okay. Not bad, but it didn't exactly blow me away. But why do you read stuff like that?"
I was once again on my oh-so-long line. In the past, it could probably have connected Europe to the USA.
"Huh? Why shouldn't I read this?"
"Well, because it's a gay novel?"
I finally understood. Tom had no idea I was gay. Why did I always assume the whole world knew I was gay? Something similar had already happened with Susanne.
"Tom! I'm gay."
"Ugh! I wouldn't have thought so. I mean, you don't look like a gay guy, you don't act like one—oh, I don't know."
"Fucking stereotypes. I probably behave the same way as 90% of other gay people. How many gay people do you know?"
"Actually, just one."
Tom blushed. Sweet!
"Aha, and who else?"
“My friend?” Tom explained shyly.
Now I was shocked. Tom had a boyfriend? Why had I never seen him before?
"Your friend?"
"Yup. Someone from my class. A really sweet little cuddly toy."
The way Tom said that and his eyes sparkled, I felt a little jealous.
"Then why don't you ever bring him?"
"You mean like my brother, when we have the house to ourselves?"
»Yes.«
»Angelo usually has to work at the gas station until midnight, and after that he's often too exhausted.«
"Angelo? Angelo? Not the Angelo from my gas station? That hotcake? Oh, man."
"Which gas station do you work at? Esso?"
I just nodded briefly. Angelo, by far the hottest guy in our group. It was obvious that someone like that already had a boyfriend.
"Oh, so you're the Axel who sometimes replaces him?"
"That's him. How long have you been together?"
"Half a year."
"That long? And why don't I hear about this? Damn."
"You're just stealing him from me anyway," Tom giggled.
"But you never took him home, right?"
"Hmm, yes, that's right."
"Why not?"
"I don't think my mother would like that."
"What makes you think that?"
"Well, I can see how her eyes light up when my brother brings home a new girl, and what if I show up with a guy? I don't know?"
I had to laugh. My God, this world is so complicated.
"Hey! Why are you laughing? I don't find this funny at all."
»Worth it.«
I went into the kitchen to get the Hinnerk.
"Here, this is yours."
"Now I don't understand anything anymore."
"So Corinna knows you're gay."
"How? Where did that come from?"
I waved the Hinnerk around in my hand.
"She found it with me, right?"
"Yup. She did."
"So how did you come to that conclusion?"
I told him everything about Corinna's performance and his face lit up more and more.
"You mean she's perfectly fine with it?"
"Sure! She just had problems with the fact that you haven't found one yet at your age."
"Umph. Wow, that's cool."
"So, I think you have something to tell your mother!"
"Yeah, I think so too. Thanks!"
"No problem, you're welcome. And if you're ever single, you know where I live."
Tom grinned and winked at me goodbye.
Over the next few days, I rarely showed up at the shared apartment. I spent most of my time with Felix. I was only there when I had laundry to do or when Felix had picked up someone and wanted to be alone. That was no different on this day.
I unlocked the door to our shared apartment and discovered Shokki at the dining table in the kitchen.
»Hey Shokki, is Jo there?«
Shokki was eating a piece of bread and nodded.
"Before!"
Shokki seemed to want to say something else, but all I heard from him was a cough and a croak as I made my way to Jo's room. Without knocking, I opened the door. Jo was lying stark naked on his bed—and a red-haired woman was sitting on him.
Shit! Pippi Longstocking is riding my Jo right now! Her face was turned toward me, luckily with her eyes closed. Her misshapen tits slapped against her chest, and she screamed, "Yeah, good, my stallion!"
My jaw dropped and I quietly closed the door.
I took the almost full bottle of licorice schnapps out of the fridge and took a big swig from the bottle, then sat down next to Shokki.
"What the hell was that?"
"This, my dear Axel, is Jo's new friend Doris."
"Who, please?"
"Doris. Should I spell it for you?"
»Doris?«
I took another generous sip from the bottle.
"How old is this Doris?"
"Around 40."
Sniffle. Gurgling. Damn liquor.
"Oh my God, that old already?"
"Yeah, and? She's nice and she suits Jo. Aren't you happy for Jo?"
"How long has this been going on?"
»3 Months.«
"What, so long? And why am I only finding out about this now?"
"When were you last here? You were with Felix most of the time."
"Hello! Am I an alien? Are you crazy or something? I'm your friend! I should know something like that!"
"Why? You don't care anyway."
I take a sip from the bottle.
"You're not serious, are you? Hey, you're my friends, what makes you come up with shit like that?"
At that moment, the door to Jo's bedroom opened, and Pippi stepped out, wearing bright green leggings and a hand-knitted rainbow-colored sweater.
Her red hair contrasted with this styling.
“Hello,” Pippi greeted us.
"Hello Pippi!" I replied. Already a little drunk, I no longer paid attention to these "new greeting rituals" and babbled on cheerfully:
"Okay, got off your horse?"
She looked at me in surprise.
"Excuse me? Who are you talking about, boy? And who is Pippi? Maybe you should cut down on your drinking?"
I took another sip from the bottle, looked at her, and started giggling.
Pippi looked down at me and addressed Shokki:
"Who the hell is that? Another ignorant person?"
I answered her:
"No, Pippi, a roommate and friend of the house."
I didn't like her from the start. The look she gave me was that typical "Oh boy, what do you want?" look. I hated her for it, and I became nasty.
"And you?" I said to her, "so you want to compete with Robin Hood? You already have the makeup for it."
Instead of answering, she just looked at me.
"Sleep off your hangover, and then we'll see."
But I thought I could handle more, so I just smiled at her.
Another sip from the bottle. I now saw two Peppis in front of me, but no matter.
I heard Jo, and I jumped for him. Why? I don't know? I wanted to get rid of Pippi! Quickly! Very quickly. I was hoping for Jo.
But then he took Pippi in his arms.
"Axel, this is Doris! My new girlfriend!"
I reached for the bottle and took another sip, looking up into Jo's eyes.
"My God, Jo, Doris should fuck her Gerhardt, but not you!"
Jo didn't find that particularly funny and slapped me. The blow landed, leaving my lip bloody. My teeth felt spongy, and I looked up into Jo's face. He stood there, motionless, ready to give me another slap. My friend Jo slaps me! Me?
It wasn't the pain that hurt, but rather Jo, my friend, and the realization that we were no longer friends. That hurt more.
“Wanker!” I yelled at Jo.
"Oh yeah, and you? A jealous little chick? You can go to hell."
The fist that hit him was hard, and it came from me. He'd better see a dentist tomorrow.
"So much for Tucke, asshole!"
I turned around and went to my room, locked the door, and went to bed. I couldn't sleep; I had to think. What now?
No more friends! I had to get out of here, and all because of Pippi! I hated that woman! I hated her! That bitch!
The next morning was horrible. My head buzzed like a swarm of bees, and they must have left their sticky, rancid honey in my mouth. I felt my chapped lip. It hurt.
Everything hurt, especially the lump in my stomach. This shitty feeling of having lost everything. I was thirsty.
This disgusting person named Pippi, er, Doris, came towards me at the fridge and started ranting straight away.
"You broke Jo's tooth!"
Blah, blah, blah. I took a Coke from the fridge and drank it.
Doris looked at me in disgust.
"You drink this stuff?"
I turned to her and burst out laughing. This woman looked so stupid in her clothes. Starting with the ball of wool she was wearing, she ended with sweatpants and strange flip-flops. But it was especially the color combination that made it look so grotesque. Everything was super washed out with indefinable colors.
At that moment, Shokki joined us and hugged Doris from behind, giving her a kiss on the neck. My stomach lurched.
I looked at Shokki and asked him:
"Are you guys having a threesome now or what?"
Instead of Shokki, Doris answered:
"In a commune, everyone loves each other."
Würg.
I left them both standing there without saying a word and went to my room to pack my things.
Once I had finished packing, I called Felix and asked him to pick me up in his car.
We hauled the things—it wasn't that much anyway—to his car (I took my coffee maker with me, of course) and drove off. I didn't say goodbye to Jo or Shokki. I just wanted to get out of there. On the way, I told Felix what had happened.
"Wow!" was his only response. And, of course, that I could live with him for a while.
Three days had passed since then. Neither I nor anyone in the shared flat had contacted the other.
Felix and I went shopping on Mönckebergstrasse. It wasn't really my price range, but you could still have a look. We passed the town hall and saw a crowd. Curious as we were, we went to the town hall square. Crowds of people were lined up behind barriers, and we looked at each other questioningly until Felix finally said:
"The Queen is coming today."
"Oh yes, there was something."
Felix looked at me and grinned broadly:
"And Wallice."
"Then let's see if it looks as good in real life," I grinned back.
A few little girls next to us were waving little flags. How sweet, even though they were probably only here for Wallice.
People crowded closer and closer together to see the English.
I couldn't see exactly how they arrived; there were too many people in front of us. But we could hear them. A murmur went through the crowd.
The mayor was waiting on the steps of the town hall. I wonder if the Queen knows he's gay? Hmm.
Some bodyguards were the first to pass us and stood next to the stairs.
We finally made some progress, until we reached the barrier. The girls screamed deafeningly. Wallice came straight over to us to shake our hands. Yes, the TV pictures weren't lying; the prince really was damn good-looking. Too good. I was surprised to see him looking straight at me and smiling shyly. Damn, he's cute. The girls screamed more and more loudly, but the prince didn't seem to mind. His eyes were still fixed on me with that shy smile, and suddenly I felt his hand in mine. He held it for a long time... Too long, in my opinion.
I looked him straight in the eyes, and then I felt this explosion. Unfortunately, it wasn't caused by chemical reactions inside my body, but outside.
The explosion shattered the windows of the town hall. The shards flew into the crowd with such force that it was almost impossible to avoid them. I saw a bodyguard collapse when a shard hit him in the neck. A woman, who appeared to be a royal, also fell to the street with a scream, covered in blood; she seemed to have been hit with full force. Suddenly there was blood everywhere. People screamed in panic and scattered. I felt as if I were wrapped in cotton wool. I saw people screaming, but their voices didn't reach my ears. I had only one thought: Get to safety!
And so I ran away. Felix, next to me, yelled at me and pointed behind me. I just nodded at him, not understanding his words. He pointed behind me more and more vigorously until I turned around. With my left hand, I pulled the prince along. Oh shit!
I felt the warmth of that hand and looked more closely. Blood was running down it, dripping in thin threads from Wallice's hand. He must have been injured by the explosion.
That was probably the moment my brain completely shut down. Without thinking about the consequences, I squeezed Wallice's hand even tighter and pulled him along. Away from here and to safety – to Felix.
Impressions
(Wallice)
I felt like I was going to faint. A thousand thoughts raced through my head as this boy dragged me further and further behind him. What had happened to my father, to Peter? What had even happened?
I lost all sense of space and time, didn't know where I was. Gradually, the crowd dwindled, the noise of panic quieted. I turned around and saw the cloud of smoke from the fire in the town hall. I wanted to go back to Peter, to my father, but the boy wouldn't let go. With unabated speed, he dragged me away from the scene.
I don't remember how long or how far we ran. At some point, the boy stopped, panting. Only then did I realize we weren't alone. A second boy was standing next to us, panting so hard he had to support himself with his hands on his knees. He looked up at me, and despite all the hustle and bustle, I saw a pair of beautiful eyes.
I slowly came to. From the street we had arrived on, there was no longer a view of the town hall, and it was completely quiet. Almost as if nothing had happened.
Then I turned around and looked for the first time at the boy who had dragged me away—and perhaps saved my life.
Tall, slim, pretty face. And beautiful eyes too. And those lips...
I finally pulled my hand out of his.
"I want to go back," I said, and at that moment I remembered I was in Germany. I understood German quite well, but talking... that wasn't my thing. The boy I had just let go of looked at me.
"Then go back."
I stared at him because he said it so beautifully. His English was accent-free.
"Come on, we don't want to hold you. Go back and let them kill you. They're waiting for you. You were the target of the attack, I assume. The future king. They'll try to blow you up a second time."
I stood there rooted to the spot, not having had time to think about why all this had happened. Fear rose, real fear. What if this strange boy was right? There were terrorists all over the world, and as I already suspected, no one was safe from them.
I looked into the boy's eyes, and I don't know what suddenly happened. Suddenly, I didn't want to go back. It was like a compulsion to stay with them both. I looked at them alternately. Each one was as beautiful as the other.
"Why did you do that? Why did you bring me here?" I asked after a while.
The boy looked at me and shrugged his shoulders.
"I don't know it."
We stood there undecided until we heard police and fire sirens.
"Either you go back now or you come with me. But you don't have much time left to decide."
At that moment, I didn't know anything. Everything was spinning around in my head, and the most important things were my grandma, my father, and Peter.
"Man, Wallice, what now?"
The boy became nervous. But why? He hadn't done anything except probably save my life.
The other unlocked the front door in front of which we were standing, and my savior followed him.
They stood in the doorway and looked at me. I thought for a second, then followed them into the gloomy hallway.
When I reached the fifth floor, I felt sweat pouring down my entire body. It felt like I was sitting in a bathtub. I immediately unbuttoned my suit jacket and threw it over the back of the chair, then loosened my tie and unbuttoned my vest.
"Yeah, yeah," grinned my savior, "go ahead and take your clothes off..."
"Axel..." the other boy admonished him.
Without asking, I collapsed into the chair. I was simply exhausted.
I didn't know what kind of liquor my savior gave me, but I felt a little better afterward.
"By the way, my name is Axel, this is my friend Felix."
I stared at the two of them. Introducing myself was certainly unnecessary, but I did it anyway. I stood up and shook their hands.
"Wallice, Prince of..."
"...we know," Axel interrupted with a broad grin.
He held my hand and looked at it.
"You got a splinter. Wait, I'll get a magnifying glass and tweezers," he said, and disappeared into the bathroom.
Only now did I take a closer look at the room. It was beautifully and simply furnished. A little messy here and there, but that didn't bother me. On the contrary, I would love to have something flying around my place.
Axel took my hand and held it towards the window.
"Come closer, I have to find the shard," he said.
He took my hand, and I watched his beautiful fingers as he gently worked on the wound. It wasn't large, it didn't hurt much, and the splinter was probably only a few millimeters across.
Axel finally pulled out the glass splinter with tweezers.
"There we have him."
He put another plaster on the wound.
Somehow the two of them stayed at a certain distance from me and kept looking at me.
"You know who we have in this room," I heard Felix whisper to Axel.
Axel stared at me.
"Yes, but I can't grasp it."
"What do we do now? If they find us, we'll go to jail for kidnapping. It might not be so bad, but Prince Wallice of all people..." Felix continued.
"If they know he's here, an army will march in. They'll shoot us like rabbits."
"Slowly. How would they know? And Wallice... is actually here voluntarily."
He looked over at me questioningly.
The radio was on and after listening for a while, Axel said:
"A Sonja von Altstetten must have been hit. She was very close to the bomb... No one else was hurt. But they're looking for you like crazy..."
I swallowed, afraid to ask. Sonja? I glanced briefly at the ceiling.
Nothing had happened to anyone; that was all I wanted to hear. That Sonja... well, I wasn't sad. I didn't care what Peter was going through now. Although I don't usually think like that, her death hadn't exactly affected me. Without really wanting to, I was thankful that it had happened to her and not my father, Peter, or me.
Now I was sitting there in the armchair, in front of two complete strangers, feeling quite lost. I couldn't stay here; they would find me, eventually, and then it would be these two boys' turn. And I didn't want that. Steven popped into my thoughts. I wonder what he was thinking? The whole of England was probably already going crazy because of me.
And suddenly, my body began to tingle. It was pleasant, almost frighteningly pleasant. For the first time in my life, I was independent. No one there to regulate me, no etiquette, no work schedule... Nothing. Freedom.
"Hey, you're grinning all of a sudden," said Axel.
"Yes, there's a reason for that. I don't want to go back for now."
The two boys looked at each other, then at me.
"Aha. Where did this insight come from?"
I got up and ran to the window. Down there, I could see blue lights flashing; the city seemed to be in a state of emergency.
"I think I have a little freedom here—and I want to keep it for a while."
"Felix and I will pay for this freedom with jail if you're found here."
"No, I wasn't brought here by force. Don't worry about it."
I probably didn't really calm her down, but somehow I suddenly didn't care. A few days here, why not? And their company was anything but unpleasant for me.
"So you really want to stay here?" asked Axel.
"For now, yes, if you don't mind."
"Fine, then I'll go shopping now, we don't have anything left in the house."
I would have liked to give Felix money for it, but I didn't have a single pound note with me.
Shortly afterward, Axel and I were alone in the apartment. My emotions fluctuated. Everything was so new, so completely unfamiliar.
The television was on, and practically every station interrupted their programs with news of my disappearance. I saw Grandma, Dad, and even Peter briefly. Seeing them unharmed calmed me. They must have put a blanket over Sonja. I just didn't know how to deal with it. That evening with her and Peter was too vivid in my mind. I had wished all sorts of things on her... and now?
Should I contact them? Just them? Tell them I was okay? Yes, I had to do that; I owed it to them.
"Hello Dad. I'm fine, nothing's wrong. I haven't been kidnapped either, I'm still in town, but I can't come back to you right now. I'll be in touch again. Best wishes to Grandma and Peter."
I didn't write anything else in the text message.
Then my cell phone rang.
"Yes, Dad, it's me."
"What's going on? Where are you?"
"Safe. I'm fine, believe me."
A long break.
"Wallice... are you really okay?"
"Yes, Dad, very good. Please don't look for me, it's my free choice."
"Man. Boy, that's not possible."
"Yes, Dad, for a while. Think of something, I'll get back to you."
Then I hung up.
Suddenly Axel stood very close to me and looked at me.
"You'll still be leaving soon, you have no other choice."
I nodded.
"And what do you mean by that?"
He looked down embarrassed.
"We will never see each other again, not in our entire lives."
"Yes, possible."
"May I grant one wish? A single one? And only once?"
I shrugged. What kind of wish could that be?
"If I can grant it, you'll even have three wishes... You saved my life."
He reached out a hand to me and suddenly touched my face. He gently stroked my cheeks with his beautiful fingers. A shiver ran through my body. And then the look into those eyes. Axel was damn handsome, I realized that in those seconds.
Very slowly, he brought his head closer, closed his eyes, and... then he kissed me on the mouth. Maybe for a second, maybe less. His lips were so soft, so warm, and yet I still got goosebumps. They covered my body from the tips of my hair to my toenails. My goodness, what a feeling...
"Sorry," he said, quickly taking two steps back.
"I... didn't mean to... but... it was my wish."
I didn't know what to say. I must have stood there as if cast in concrete.
Axel turned to the window.
"I'm sorry, really, but you... you're kind of an idol to me. Whenever I see you in magazines or on TV, I always think I'd love to kiss you. It was a dream that could never have come true."
He turned back to me.
"And actually, I can't believe it. Thank you for that."
So Axel was just as gay as I was. I walked up to him and grabbed his arms. At that moment, I didn't care about anything. Despite the sirens down there, all the panic flickering on the screen... I suddenly sank down. Down into a deep, calm silence.
Axel looked at me in disbelief.
"Is something wrong? I apologized."
It was lovely how he said that. His voice...
"What you just did was beautiful."
Axel's gaze was indescribable, his eyes became as big as those of an owl.
»Was?«
"I know my German is bad..."
He stood there and looked at me like an alien.
"What did you just say?"
»That my German is bad...«
"No, before..."
He embarrassed me, especially since I hadn't thought those words through very carefully.
But I didn't want to say it again. I pulled him toward me and took him in my arms, hugging him tightly.
I heard the door open and someone come into the room, but I just couldn't let go of Axel.
"Oh shit," was all I heard, and it was Felix's voice.
Axel
-
Fears
Felix stood in the room, staring at us with wide eyes. I didn't know what to say to him, so all I could do was grin stupidly.
Something like, "It's not what it looks like, Felix," would have sounded pretty stupid. Wallice was standing next to me and seemed just as unsure as I was. It was cute how he stood there, looking at me and then back at Felix. Unsure of how the situation would develop. The prince was simply adorable. "Prince," yes, prince! I had to drum it into my brain that he was a prince. So far, he seemed more like... well, what? Like a big boy who lives in my neighborhood? Someone I'd like to fuck? Or more? Someone I could start a relationship with? Finally? And the prince, of all people? Shit!
I was the first to rediscover my vocabulary:
"Felix, we have a little problem!"
"Small? Small, is that what you call something? What's a big problem for you? Felix: I fucked an alien?"
"Hmm. Yeah, that would be a bigger problem. How do you fuck an alien?"
Felix started to laugh.
"You're such a shit, Axel!"
"I know."
Wallice enjoyed his time with us. The longer he was here, the more he thawed out. He quickly put aside his conservative ways. He turned out to be a super pleasant conversationalist and a very funny friend. It didn't take Felix long to warm up to him. The two liked each other. Even though I secretly suspected Felix was a little jealous. But he didn't let it show.
Another thing bothered me much more. Wallice's cell phone! It's not really a big problem to track cell phones. I was all the more surprised that no SEK task force had visited our apartment yet. Wallice's father probably had his hands on it. Why? I could only speculate. Maybe he was simply giving his son a break. Or, and this probably got to the heart of the matter, he was glad Wallice was out of the line of fire.
The media only reported that Wallice had landed safely in England and cited old archive footage. There were only suspicions as to who might have been behind the attack. They ranged from al-Qaeda to the IRA.
Well, in any case, it was clear that we were under surveillance. The Federal Criminal Police Office (BKA) was milling around in front of, or probably already inside, the building. They were truly inconspicuous—too inconspicuous. The Passat parked in front of our apartment building, alternating with an Audi every six hours, was very conspicuously inconspicuous.
On the second day after Wallice "moved in" with us, I went to get some rolls. I bought multigrain and sunflower seed rolls, as well as four half-rolls with turkey and cheese.
I packed the unbuttered rolls in my backpack, took the sandwiches in my right hand, and carried them in front of me like a tray. I trundled straight toward the Audi.
I knocked on the side window and it whirred down.
“Excuse me?” came from the person who had made himself comfortable in the passenger seat.
"I thought our bodyguards could use something to eat?"
The person addressed looked at me and then started to grin:
"Gladly! Sit in the back!"
»Okay!«
I sat on the back seat of the Audi and gave them the sandwiches.
“Now that’s what I call service!” grinned the driver.
"And since when have you been shadowing us?"
"Hmm. Since the beginning," replied the man in the passenger seat.
"The phone?"
"Not only that. Our English colleagues, of course, have packed the prince with tracking devices. Just like we do with our politicians. Completely normal," and took a bite of the roll.
"Hmm, that's good. More of this tomorrow, please, James!"
The two laughed.
"And which agency are you from? BND? Federal Office for the Protection of the Constitution? Federal Criminal Police Office?"
"Pick your pick. It doesn't matter. Does the queen even know her grandson is gay?"
The two burst out laughing.
"Ha, ha, jokers!"
"Okay. Jokes aside. You have a problem."
The two of them now looked at me seriously.
"Oh what?"
Just one problem? I could think of thousands!
"My name is Olaf," the driver's seat stool said to me.
"And I'm Ole," his counterpart grinned at me.
"People call me Lisa. Or Axel."
"Okay, enough of the fun. Here, Axel, here's a tracking device, and we want you to wear it day and night."
Olaf gave me a small device, the size of an SD card. I took it and examined it.
"Axel, put it in your wallet or somewhere else, just carry it with you at all times. Do you see the little button on it?"
I looked at the thing and actually there was such a thing.
»Yes.«
"Good! Press it if you're in immediate danger. Only then, and we'll be there immediately! Do you hear?"
"What happens if I press it?"
"This is our signal to storm the room, wherever you are. So use it only in an emergency!"
"Understood! You hear everything?"
"With you? Yeah, right!"
»Okay!«
I got out of the car and felt a slight urge to vomit. They knew everything! Everything!
They knew about the first night with Wallice, how we had sex, what we talked about. That first night was so beautiful. So cuddly and so letting go, like I'd never experienced before in my life. And that others had witnessed that first night, that was unacceptable!
I felt hurt, betrayed, excluded from this system.
As I made my way back to Felix, I racked my brain. Wallice! Are we committed? Can you answer that question after just two days? And if so, what then? I already knew that one day he would have to return to England. Would that be the end of our relationship, or would he continue on and hide? A lifetime of playing cat and mouse with the public? I couldn't handle that. Not for a minute. Should I perhaps end the relationship before it had really begun?
As I opened the apartment door, the two of them came towards me.
"Where have you been for so long?" Felix asked with a worried expression.
"I had a quick romp in the park."
"What? Just one? You're getting old, too."
That put the issue off the table.
Wallice, who was standing next to Felix, just looked at us in bewilderment. His German wasn't good enough to understand properly, which was fine with me.
We had a hearty breakfast and talked about what we would do today.
"Well, I'd like to go for a little walk. Along the Alster. So, what's it like?"
Felix looked at me with his typical "how many pills did you swallow?" look and then just said:
"But everything else is okay?"
"What? Why? The sun's shining outside, we'll give Wallice sunglasses and a cap, and then with my clothes on, no one will notice."
I could literally hear Felix's brain rattling until he finally said:
"Hmm. Okay. Why not? He's not supposed to be in Hamburg anyway."
"May I perhaps say something?"
Oops. The main character hasn't even been asked yet. So far, the conversation has only been between me and Felix.
"So? Do you feel like it?"
Wallice literally beamed and answered my question in the affirmative.
It turned out to be a beautiful afternoon. The sun shone down on us, and I perked up a little. For a short time, I was able to forget my fears and simply enjoy myself.
The people of Hamburg actually didn't pay much attention to us, even when I walked hand in hand with Wallice. He was a little irritated at first, but I explained to him that the people of Hamburg were used to it and that it was perfectly normal.
We strolled around the Inner Alster Lake, bought ice cream, and joked around. Wallice clearly enjoyed taking a stroll incognito for once. Without bodyguards and all that nonsense. Well, of course we had our bodyguards. But they stayed in the background, and why should I tell him?
In the evening, Felix got us sushi and we played a little cards. The atmosphere was very relaxed and easygoing until the doorbell rang.
Felix went to open the door. From the living room, we couldn't see who was at the door. But we could hear it. A scream and a loud bang. Wallice looked at me with a startled expression, and mine was probably no less surprised. Hadn't Wallice's bodyguards already come for him to be shipped to England?
Felix flew into the living room—and that wasn't an exaggeration. A little further, and he would have landed on the table. Wallice and I jumped up, only to take a step back. We looked down the barrel of a gun pointed at us.
A complete stranger stood in the doorway, aiming at us. I held my breath. My brain switched to generator mode, or rather, emergency power, because I couldn't make sense of this absurd snapshot. I heard a command in a language I didn't recognize. I guessed Gaelic. Irish Gaelic.
This man looked at us with a hateful expression and took two steps toward us. He simply yelled:
"Sit down!"
In English. I don't think I've ever sat down so quickly in my entire life as I did in that moment. Shit. My heart was pounding, I couldn't think straight, and all I could see was that asshole with his gun pointed at us.
Felix lay curled up on the ground, looking like misery itself. Blood was running from a laceration on his head. He didn't look up, his two hands protectively above his head, lying there in a fetal position.
Two more people stumbled into the living room.
Jo and Shokki! I was surprised to see them both here. They looked at me and seemed very scared.
Another guy entered the room with a gun and stood in front of the two. Jo and Shokki sat cross-legged next to Felix, their hands on the back of their heads.
Then those assholes saw Wallice. One shouted something in Gaelic, and a woman appeared.
Pippi!
This stupid cow strutted triumphantly into the room and stood in front of us.
Like the other two assholes, she had a gun in her hand.
However, she no longer looked as eco-girl as I had when I first met her. She was wearing jeans and a black turtleneck. She was also wearing sneakers, and her hair was different, too. She seemed tougher to me.
"Well, look who we have here? The royal wart himself with my friend. We've made a really good catch. So all this child-fucking has paid off after all," the stupid cow chuckled, looking at Jo and Shokki.
"O'Raelly! I thought you were dead?" Wallice said.
"Oh, Prince, I'll save that for later. But it's nice of you to join me. It just raises the stakes, and you know I like to play."
"Wallice? You know her?"
I was amazed.
"Yes, unfortunately, every child in England knows that bastard."
"Oh, Prince, are we getting abusive now? Tsk, tsk."
Wallice fuhr fort:
"Cathy O'Raelly was once a Sinn Fein MP. Until she couldn't take it anymore and carried out attacks against us in the name of the IRA."
Wallice looked at her with fury, a look I'd never seen before. His neck veins bulged, and his face grew redder and redder.
"This terrorist killed 32 people, five of whom were under 15 years old. This was her work. We had actually hoped to have killed her in one operation, but I see that wasn't the case."
Wallice practically spat the words at her.
»Terrorist? Terrorist?«
Pippi also turned red and shouted at Wallice:
"We, the IRA, are freedom fighters! We are fighting against a monarchy that occupies parts of our country. If Hitler had occupied England back then and you were fighting against the Nazis, would you also be a terrorist?"
Wallice shook his head and then said:
"That's bullshit. This isn't about a monarchy or a Nazi regime; it's about Protestants versus Catholics, that's the problem. And my grandmother is the head of the Anglican Church. Because the Protestants were massacred by the Catholics back in the Middle Ages, she became their head and thus their protector. You know that perfectly well, O'Raelly."
"Yes, and thus our enemy. If you hadn't taken over Northern Ireland, it wouldn't have come to this."
"Northern Ireland has always belonged to the Protestants, you know that. Sure, we made mistakes by tying Northern Ireland to England. But did we ever have any other option?"
"Yes. You did! We wanted peace. We granted Protestants the right to live in Northern Ireland. But what happened? More and more came, more and more land was taken from us. What would you have done in our place? Tell me! What?"
Wallice looked at the ground.
"I don't know. Probably negotiated a compromise? As I said, we made mistakes. But in the 21st century, surely it should be possible to overcome them?"
"No. Never! Ireland is a free country and will fight until it wins."
"Ireland is free! Only you aren't. You're still in the last millennium, the people no longer support you, the only thing you want is terror."
"These fools, brain-eaten on ale, only we, the IRA, know what our people need. Our tradition and Irish thinking."
"Hitler wanted that too."
"Enough now! You five go into the kitchen, sit down there, and I won't hear another sound, otherwise..." Pippi looked at the two gorillas waving their guns around.
We then walked in single file into the kitchen, with the two IRA gorillas behind us.
They signaled for us to sit down on the floor. We sat close together. One of the assholes grabbed the drawer containing the cutlery and took it out, bringing it into the living room. Yeah, it was clear, knives and hostages didn't mix well.
We weren't restrained; they probably didn't think it was necessary. Essentially, they saw us as teenagers who couldn't really be dangerous. They were right. We were even allowed to talk to each other. My first question was directed at Jo:
"What happened?"
"Shit, Axel! Just total, impenetrable bullshit! I fell in love with Doris—or rather, Cathy. It was like brainwashing what she did to us. She talked about a great community, the three of us, but she took you, Axel, out of it right from the start. I knew you wouldn't like her. But I loved her. Oh shit! She watched TV with us, and then those pictures of the fox hunt and Wallice came on, and everything boiled over inside me. All my anger. Against this injustice in this world, why do children still have to starve? And others. Us! Live in wealth and throw away things that are so desperately needed elsewhere? And then Doris/Cathy came along and focused everything on the English royal family. I was already working for fire extinguisher manufacturers back then, remember?"
»Yes.«
Jo worked in the shop where fire extinguishers were tested and serviced.
"Well, it was easy for me to swap the fire extinguishers at City Hall for ours."
Suddenly I was wide awake. My brain switched from emergency power generator to normal operation.
"What do you mean? You carried out the bombing?"
"Yes and no. Doris/Cathy gave me the new fire extinguishers to trade in. But I didn't know they contained syntax."
"Yeah, hello? How stupid are you guys? Didn't you even ask when that Pippi girl brought you new fire extinguishers? I don't believe you! Sorry, but you're not that stupid!"
Jo and Shokki looked down at the floor, embarrassed.
"We knew. We wanted to carry out this attack," said Shokki.
I was stunned. I didn't recognize them. Were they my friends? They planted the bombs? The ones who are now murderers?
"You killed a person! Do you realize that?"
Yes, I was whining:
"We didn't want this. Shit! If I'd known the load was so strong, I would never have joined in."
I was at my wit's end. I felt as if I were lying in my grave and someone I once knew very well was telling me I was immortal. Disbelief set in. I'd known them both my whole life, and now this?
I couldn't say another word. Felix then addressed the two of them:
"And why are you here now?"
"The BKA was after us, and we had no way out, especially when you feel a gun to your back. And all I could think of was Felix's apartment. Sorry!"
"Great! You're great friends! Not only putting yourselves in danger, but dragging others into it too, fantastic!"
The two didn't say another word and looked dejectedly at the tiled wall.
My brain's electrical impulses began to correspond. We were in the kitchen. If they were to access the room, it would be from the living room, where there was a balcony. The kitchen faced the backyard. They probably wouldn't be able to get in here. So, the apartment door and the living room. I had the "SD card" in my left jeans pocket, and I started to pull it out unnoticed. The asshole guarding us had his eyes on Wallice. Probably assuming that if anything were to happen, it would be his fault.
"Hey!" the asshole suddenly shouted, pointing the gun at my forehead. He continued to shout in Gaelic, which I couldn't understand.
I raised both my hands and placed them on the back of my head. This gesture was meant
Show that I was defenseless. And had nothing with me. Except for the small card that was now under my ass.
With his left hand, he pulled my hair, causing me to fall forward. The card was now resting on the sole of my left shoe. And with one movement, I shoved it over to Wallice.
"Press the button, honey!" I said quietly.
Wallice pressed him. I didn't notice, though. The asshole knocked me unconscious with the butt of his gun. All I felt was a nasty pain, and that was it for me.
I woke up when the flash grenades exploded. A loud bang, a bright flash! Pistol shots rang out.
I still felt numb. The SWAT stormed the apartment after Wallice pressed the button.
After that, there were only facets: police officers in gray-blue uniforms around me, then flashing blue lights and the bright lights of the ambulance. A doctor leaned toward me and said something I didn't understand.
Dusk.
Wallice!
All just a dream?
If so, then a damn intense dream!
Wallice
–
Decisions
(before
two
days)
It took a while for me to find my way around. The new surroundings, these two boys. I simply didn't trust them; everything was so new and, ultimately, terribly complicated.
What was happening at home right now? People missed me. Steve, Peter... people who were important to me. Dad? The rest was a nonstarter; I could do without it.
But still, with every minute I felt safer with them, just trying to be what these two boys were: a normal person.
Somehow, it felt like we'd known each other forever. We laughed a lot, and I just felt comfortable.
I spent the first night on the couch; I was just dead anyway and would have slept on the doormat in front of the toilet.
The next day was dedicated to relaxing. We played cards, laughed, and joked around. The TV was always on, and sometimes it gave me a little pang in my heart when they showed me my hometown. I hadn't yet thought about what would happen next.
On the second evening, Felix went to his parents' house. It was his father's birthday and Felix wanted to spend the night with them because of the distance.
Axel and I decided to put a pizza in the oven.
We sat in front of the TV, ate pizza, and watched the news. The attack was, of course, the priority. Axel stared at the television, and I could really capture the boy's mood. He held his hands to his face and swallowed. I was glad that my father, my grandmother, and Peter were there.
"What a mess we've made," Axel said after a while.
"We? You messed up, not me."
But I couldn't help but grin.
At some point I told Axel that I was tired and wanted to go to sleep.
"You can sleep in Felix's bed," he called after me. He probably thought I had the right to sleep in a decent bed for once.
"But you'll come too, won't you?" I asked, without thinking about it too much.
"Yes, I'll be right there," he called after me.
I was afraid I'd break down at the thought of sharing a bed with Axel. But then something clicked. Deep down in my soul, I wanted it. I wanted to sleep with Axel, even if it was a pipe dream that couldn't come true.
A little later, I heard Axel come into the bedroom. As a precaution, I pretended to be asleep. I'd never had real sex before, especially not with a boy. Did I want that tonight? I wasn't afraid of it, but I was suddenly incredibly nervous. Excited, or rather, excited.
I heard the rustling of his clothes. Would he lie down next to me? Of course, where else? Here in the room, there was no other option.
Panic suddenly rose within me. No, I wasn't allowed to do that. I wasn't allowed to sleep with a boy. Not with Axel or anyone else. I wasn't allowed to be gay, and if the slightest thing happened between us, like an argument or something, he might blurt it out. And then my fate would be sealed.
I got up when he was about to go to bed.
"I have to go back for a minute," I lied and went into the bathroom.
There I saw my reflection.
"You can't go to bed with him. Not now, not tomorrow, not ever," I told myself. Sure, he knew what he was getting into, but maybe he was just looking for my company. Nothing more. I reached into my underwear and had a single thought: I had to jerk off now, then nothing else would happen. I could always use a headache or nausea as an excuse.
I pulled my panties down onto my thighs and began the well-practiced procedure.
»Wallice?!«
My erection immediately shrank.
»And?«
"Where are you?"
Where was I supposed to stay? Well, he hadn't wanted it any other way. If something happened, it wouldn't be entirely my fault...
"I'm coming," I cried, pulling my panties back up.
I'm not the type of person who gets nervous easily, but what might come next made me tremble.
I cautiously lay down next to Axel, careful not to touch him anywhere. I registered in just milliseconds that Axel wasn't wearing anything.
"Good night," I said quietly.
No answer. Fine. That made me suspect he didn't want anything from me. It was indescribably beautiful next to him. Just lying there and knowing that someone was there. Someone I was beginning to like very much. My erection was almost painful, but it would subside. Although I suddenly wasn't sure anymore; after all, I hadn't masturbated in at least three days because I just hadn't gotten around to it.
Suddenly he turned to me, put his arm around my chest. How that felt. I thought I was going to fly. Should I touch his arm? Caress him? What was that intoxicating scent that surrounded me? I took a deep breath and suddenly I felt calm. Completely calm. I began to enjoy it. Axel began to numb me. Everything that lay behind us sank into insignificance. I closed the hatches in that direction. For the first time in my life, I was removed from reality. I just wanted to lie here, with him, and nothing else.
"It's nice being next to you," he whispered after what seemed like an eternity, very close to my ear, and because it tickled, it sent goosebumps all over my body.
Not just what he said, but also how he said it. My God, me next to a boy, and he was stark naked. I imagined what it would be like if this got out. That I was lying next to him that night.
Suddenly, he moved closer until his body pressed against mine. I felt his warmth, and I was once again able to smell that sweet scent emanating from him.
"Axel... please don't..." I had to resist and tried to move away from his warm, fluffy body. But the bed wasn't that big, so he moved forward.
"Hey, my prince," Axel breathed, "I want you. Now."
How much more eroticism could a voice have? Not much more, I was sure of that.
"Wait," said Axel, standing up.
He came back with a bottle of champagne.
"I think there's something to celebrate."
And then it was over for us. I stopped resisting and left his hands where they caressed me. His mouth where it sought and met mine. I fell. With him. A magical world that I entered over the next few hours. Axel was so tender... I began to fall in love with the boy. And my duties seemed to dissolve into pure nothingness. Deep in my soul, I bid farewell to the King of Witham. Axel was now my kingdom. And only in him did I want to serve and rule.
Not waking up alone, what a feeling. Axel's head was resting on my shoulder, and the boy was breathing deeply and calmly. I gently stroked his cheek, and Axel stretched out, moving very close to me. No, I wouldn't want to miss this feeling again, ever. Maybe it wasn't fair to Steve, but I didn't think I could lie next to him like that. No matter what decision I had to make, he would have to accept it.
Axel smelled of sleep, somehow. And there it was again, that numbness. Staying in bed until the end of the world, I thought.
The fact that Felix suddenly appeared in the room didn't shock me anymore.
He slowly came to our bed and placed his hands on his hips. He shook his head very slowly, only uttering a "zzzz."
I held my index finger to my mouth and signaled him to be quiet so Axel wouldn't wake up.
Felix came around to me and knelt down in front of the bed.
"I can't believe what I'm seeing. Did you..." he whispered quietly.
I nodded.
Felix stood up.
“Get up, you sleepy bunch!” he suddenly shouted.
Axel flinched and I could have slapped Felix.
"What's going on? Is the world ending?" Axel asked sleepily.
"Yes, she already is, tonight."
"How come?"
"You slept with the Prince of Witham."
"So, aren't princes human?"
Axel smiled at me and kissed my nipples.
"You're beyond saving, aren't you?"
"That's right," I replied.
A little later, Axel came out of the bathroom.
"I'm going to go get breakfast. And Felix, keep your hands off my sweetie, understood?" he grinned.
Felix bowed to him.
"I will try my best not to touch Your Highness," he grinned.
Axel shook his head and left the apartment.
"You Felix?"
»And?«
We stood in the kitchen and Felix brewed the coffee.
“What kind of person is Axel?” I wanted to know.
Felix stared at me.
"You want to know what I think of him?"
»Yes.«
He grinned.
"Axel is an asshole sometimes. More than once I've wanted to shoot him to the moon—without a return ticket."
"That's only one side of the story," I said.
"Yes, that's one side of him. And if it had any weight, it would weigh a few grams."
I had to think about these words for a while.
"Opposite the other side... which weighs a lot of kilos, right?"
"Yes. He's my best friend. And I like him, with all his rough edges. He's actually the most lovable person I can imagine."
I had to grin.
“I see, you have something to add to that?” asked Felix.
"Are you two together?"
"Who? Axel and me?"
Felix laughed out loud.
"No, we're not a good match."
"Have you never, I mean..."
"Yes, we did, you know. But that was just curiosity. Horny guys sometimes do things that aren't in life's script."
"I... I don't think there's anyone who can be so... tender..."
I had to get that off my chest and it was true after all.
Felix laughed.
"That, my dear, I can't really judge. That is to say... well... sort of...
"Where on earth is he taking so long? The bakery is just around the corner," Felix then interjected.
"Maybe he met someone else?" I tried to come up with an explanation. I was starting to feel uneasy.
"Possible," Felix replied, also with concern in his voice.
After all, we had something to lose. How long could we actually keep playing this game? Fear rose within me. Fear of losing something that suddenly meant so much to me. These two—that couldn't happen, ever. Screw the royal family, screw the throne. I began to think and act like them; that was my world. Not the one where you were constantly in the spotlight. Where even jerking off in the evening became a problem because you felt like you were being watched.
At that moment I made a decision that on the one hand I was afraid of, but on the other hand would give me a new, my new, life.
"I need something to drink now," I said, rushing into the bedroom and fetching the opened bottle of champagne.
"Are you crazy? It's not even eleven o'clock."
"I don't care," I replied. After all, the decision of my life had been made, and that would have been a reason even at six in the morning.
“What are you doing?” Felix asked with wide eyes.
"We should celebrate."
"What?"
"I'm never going back to England."
Felix's eyes grew even bigger.
"What don't you want?"
"Back."
He slumped down on the kitchen chair with a loud sigh.
"You're not serious, are you?"
I grinned.
"It couldn't be more serious."
"How do you want to do that?"
The door opened and Axel came into the kitchen.
The topic was off the table for now. We had breakfast and then went for a walk. It was indescribably beautiful, if only because neither of us took notice. The highlight of the afternoon was when Axel suddenly took my hand. I let him, just like that. And I was truly on cloud nine.
But then, when we got home... Everything happened so fast, it was unbelievable. I was so shocked that I didn't even notice half of what was happening.
Cathy O'Raelly and two disgusting guys—that's all I registered; it was the fear of death that was hanging over my head. Guns, threats...
I debated the country and its people, religion, property, right and wrong. But I knew it wouldn't achieve anything. The three of them had something planned, and they would see it through, by any means necessary and at any cost.
It also took me a while to understand what Axel was doing with a chip that he gave me with the words:
"Press the button, honey." He loved me, that was now clear. And I gathered everything I had to save us. I pressed the button – and minutes later, all hell broke loose.
Suddenly I couldn't see anything anymore, I was blind. Truly blind, and the thought of it shocked me so much that I barely registered anything. Screams, gunshots, smoke, incredible chaos. Strong hands grabbed me and dragged me somewhere. I think I screamed too, out of sheer fear.
At some point, I calmed down. I must have been sitting in a vehicle, listening to the engine and radio conversations. After an eternity, contours began to form on my retina again.
"Well, young man, is everything OK?"
I nodded cautiously. No one who wanted to get their hands on someone would ask that kind of question. Apparently, I had escaped a catastrophe.
I slowly took in the scenery outside, the two men sitting in front. The passenger kept looking back at me.
"Are you missing something? Are you in pain?"
I shook my head, happy to finally be able to see again.
“What about Axel?” I asked, afraid of an answer.
The man looked at me almost intrusively.
"In the hospital."
I started to tremble, knowing what he meant.
"What happened to the others?"
"We arrested two. Rainer Schulte and Joachim Heilmann.
An O'Raelly and two unknown guys got it...«
The two were still alive, which was lucky. The SEK had done a great job.
“Take me to him,” I demanded.
"To whom?"
"To Axel."
"That's not possible. Half the country is in turmoil, and your father doesn't want you to be found."
"But you found me."
"No not really."
I didn't understand anything.
"What does that mean?"
"We don't know who else is behind the attacks. We have to be safe, and until then, you stay invisible. Simple as that."
"I have to go to Axel."
“It doesn’t work,” the man in the passenger seat grumbled again.
I felt tears welling up. How broken was my life all of a sudden?
"I'll give you as much money as you want. Or whatever other things you want, but please take me to my friend!"
Suddenly the car pulled over to the side of the road and stopped.
The driver turned to me.
"What do you mean by that?"
"Damn it, I just said it. Take me to him."
The two of them looked at each other. They were probably just realizing what I'd just suggested. It was absurd, but I had no other options. If they agreed to it, I was lucky.
"If you're going to bribe us, you must really care about seeing him."
"Would you please take me to the hospital now?"
The driver shrugged his shoulders and stepped on the gas.
My new friend didn't look well. A thick bandage around his head, and Axel was drifting off into a daze.
He was lying alone in the room, fortunately not in intensive care. Although the sight of him was anything but reassuring, I could assume his life was not in danger.
I gently tapped him on the shoulder.
"Hello Axel."
He slowly opened his eyes.
"Hello Wallice," he whispered weakly.
"Are you okay?"
He nodded slightly.
"I've felt better before."
I sat on the edge of the bed and took his hand.
"Hey, kid, you'll be okay."
"What about Jo and Shokki?"
"They'll probably spend some time in jail first."
"And O'Raelly? The other two?"
I just shook my head.
"Shit... fucking shit," he shouted.
"Leave it, it was their own fault. O'Raelly and her followers didn't deserve any better."
"Wallice, you... you're staying with me, right?"
I took a deep breath. The decision had already been made, but now it was time to implement it.
I ran to the window. It was a beautiful day outside. The trees were so wonderfully green, flowers in the park below. Yes, I wanted to take care of things like that. Not etiquette, not bitchy aristocratic women. Not children, not obligatory programs. While these thoughts had often made me feel like I was throwing away something valuable, now all I needed was a glance at my boyfriend. His eyes, that pleading. No, I couldn't trade that for anything.
I went to Axel's bed, leaned down to him and we kissed passionately.
Suddenly the door opened and an unknown man entered the room. It happened far too quickly for Axel and I to react. He seemed to realize immediately that he'd taken the wrong door, but suddenly he stared at me. Then he wiped his eyes. I instinctively felt that he recognized me.
"Sorry, I think I'm in the wrong room," he almost stammered, turned around, and disappeared.
"Hey Wallice, you're so pale. Is something wrong?"
I shook my head.
"No, Axel, I just thought for a moment he recognized me."
I slept in Axel's room that night. Well, it wasn't really sleep, as I was sitting at the small table with my head resting on my arm.
I woke up feeling quite exhausted, and Axel was already awake and smiling at me.
"Hey big guy, you seem to be feeling pretty good again, right?"
Axel grinned.
"Yes, it does. But you look pretty crumpled. Why didn't you come into bed with me like I suggested?"
"If someone had come in there that night... No, we can save that for later."
Shortly afterwards, the nurse entered the room and, without saying a word, began making Axel's bed. He came to me.
"Come on, let's walk down the hall, a few meters at least."
“Can he?” I asked the nurse.
She smiled.
"Yes, but no forced march, the rounds are coming soon."
There wasn't much going on in the hallways that morning, so we quickly found a spot where we could share a kiss. A very intense—and almost passionate—one.
We noticed the person far too late and were torn from our brief dream world by a flash of lightning.
The man from yesterday. He slowly lowered his camera and smiled at us.
"Would you like to comment on these photos?"
He held out his business card to us. This newspaper was read throughout Germany...
Axel and I looked at each other, then at him. I knew the law of freedom of the press; it was impossible to stop this man from publishing. Unless you offered him money. But in that moment, I saw my chance, I saw our chance coming. My heart was pounding wildly; I recognized the man's fierce determination from the sparkle in his eyes. But it was better not to say anything. He would twist every word to suit the readers' wishes anyway.
My voice trembled as I said to the man:
"Write whatever you want."
I took Axel by the arm and we went back to his room.
There he looked at me like a monster.
"Are you crazy? Do you know what that means?"
"Yes, my dear, I know that. Before you stands the Prince of Witham, who is no longer one."
"Wallice, that's nonsense. You're giving up the throne, just like that?"
"Not just for the sake of it. I'm doing it because of you."
He stared at me.
"Because of me?"
I took his head in my hands and kissed him lightly on the lips.
"Yes, because of you."
During the rounds, I took a walk in the hospital park. I reflected on my life, what it once was, what it would become. I couldn't change it now; it was too late. But ultimately, I had wanted it this way. A new life lay before me, and I would manage it, somehow.
I spent the rest of the day in my room with Axel. We thought a lot about it, but we also slowly began to restructure our lives. Axel took the matter very seriously, and at some point during the night, we realized how we could handle it. Even though everything was still up in the air, we still had a goal.
That night I ended up sleeping in his bed.
Early in the morning, I headed to the hospital kiosk. I slowly walked toward the newspaper rack, my heart threatening to burst. But with every meter I got closer to the rack, the image became clearer. A photo that took up half the front page. Awesome, I had to admit. Didn't you even see a bit of Axel's tongue? Awesome.
"Gay! Prince Wallice visits his injured German friend in the hospital"
Bold, black letters. Even those who didn't read this newspaper couldn't escape the headline.
Well, that was apt. England would become a cauldron in a few hours.
At that moment my cell phone rang.
"Wallice, what's going on? The phone here hasn't stopped ringing."
"Dad, I can't say I'm sorry. I love Axel and I'm going to stay with him."
Silence on the other end.
"Dad, there's no other way. I can't live under duress, that's not my thing. I've probably disappointed you, but that's the way it is."
"I understand."
Dad's voice was quiet and sad. I could empathize with him, because what was about to happen to him was certainly anything but a walk in the park.
"Speak up, do you hear?" he said.
"Sure, I promise."
Only then did I notice the beads of sweat on my forehead.
I slumped into the chair in the aisle and closed my eyes. Everything was spinning, nothing was settling in order, especially not my future.
I pictured Steven in front of me. I wondered what he would feel now? He'd never openly admitted that he truly loved me. I would contact him, someday. Right now, I just didn't have the nerve.
The door to Axel's room opened, and my friend staggered into the doorway. The way he looked in those pajamas...
"What's going on?" he asked.
I didn't say anything, just held up the newspaper so he could read the front page.
He snapped his fingers.
»Wow.«
He approached me and took the newspaper from me. Curiously, he read the article, which I hadn't even seen before.
“Did you read that?” he then asked.
I shook my head.
Axel dropped the newspaper on the floor and pulled me up from my chair.
"My prince. My everything," he whispered and hugged me.
Axel still smelled of sleep, and once again he sedated me.
"I'll never let you go," I said.
"I don't either. Whatever happens, we'll get through it."
I kissed him, in the middle of the hallway.
"England has lost a prince."
"It doesn't matter, I have one now. And I'm never giving it up."
That party was truly amazing, but the champagne and red wine had left their mark. I slowly sat up in bed, trying to avoid any hasty movements. What had happened last night? A lot, actually, too much, and only gradually did the memories return. You only turn eighteen once in your life, but the fact that you always tend to exaggerate...
I smelled of perfume. A strange perfume, quite sweet and overpowering. It clung to me everywhere, and somehow it disgusted me.
I threw back the covers, stood up very slowly, and pulled the fabric cord next to the four-poster bed that rang the kitchen bell. It usually took less than ten minutes for Mortimer to appear with breakfast.
The sun in my eyes really hurt, but I forced myself to look out the open window anyway. Out into the beautiful nature on that summer morning.
Eighteen, I thought. Grown up. A man. Or not yet?
I stepped in front of the large mirror and looked at myself. Had I grown a year older last night? No, I decided. Twenty-four hours ago, I had looked exactly the same. Not quite as crumpled, but otherwise...
My medium-length, blond hair stood out in a mess. I ran my hands through it and had to grin. Jane once told me I had bristles like a wild boar. She hadn't meant it seriously, but she was right. The blue eyes I inherited from my mother weren't the pure white they usually were. They were more of a reddish tint. I bared my white teeth, which I was really proud of, and stuck out my tongue. Stupid alcohol. My gaze wandered over my body in the mirror and I decided it was time to get a bit of color back on my skin. The few hairs on my body were gathered on my sternum, and not much else was around my belly button, from where they disappeared into a narrow strip in my shorts. I reached into my pants and made sure that underneath everything was the same as yesterday. Everything was fine.
I took a deep breath. What would change from today? More rights, more responsibilities? I'd already had plenty of those. And even more from now on? I suspected that my carefree years were over. The end of my good life, and I hadn't even managed to sleep with a girl yet. I'd had more than enough chances, but something held me back. Well, my relatives were happy about it, even though I could have lied to them about it. But this ultra-conservative society preferred it best if people didn't engage in premarital sex. For moral reasons and all. And then the endless headlines when the paparazzi caught you kissing or when you'd had one too many. I could hardly change my appearance; it was immediately documented on page 1 of "The Sun." I would have also liked to wear an earring or have my hair highlighted, like many of my classmates. Go to the swimming pool after school, just do stupid things. Riding out with my horse, all alone. The only time I was truly alone was in the evening, within my own four walls.
Sometimes it was weird. I was lying in bed, enjoying a good jerk-off, and there were millions of people out there imagining exactly that.
"I wonder what he looks like naked?" Well, tough luck. Very few of them will ever find out. Unless I deliberately let myself be caught by a paparazzi. And then I'd be in the Sun for days. I just couldn't think of a headline for that. Even weirder was the idea that I could make a lot of money doing it. First the money, then the photos. And then disappear, once and for all. South Seas. Hawaii. Only cocktails on the beach...
"Good morning, Wallice," Mortimer greeted me, whom I had invited in after knocking.
He rolled the silver tray trolley to my table and bowed politely. Mortimer had been a servant of the house since time immemorial and was always friendly. He had turned seventy this winter and was still one of the old guard. I had asked him years ago not to address me by my title; I simply felt too young for it. I liked Mortimer because he was neither pushy nor arrogant. And yet there were quite a few around me who possessed such negative qualities. Most of the bodyguards were incredibly proud of their right to protect me. Yet I often thought I could do without them. Who would want to harm me? Sure, there were anarchists, crazy types like that, who didn't give a thought to why they were trying to kill someone. But if they really wanted to, they'd get to you anyway. Even a few monstrous piles of flesh around you didn't do much good.
"Thank you," I said briefly, because that word alone scared the bumblebees away again.
As quietly as he came, Mortimer disappeared, and I sat down at the table. How long could I be alone today? Alone with myself? Ten minutes, a quarter of an hour? I dreaded the festivities. Celebrating my birthday was entirely my own plan. My best friends, no one else.
Shadows in my mind became colorful figures. With every sip of coffee, the evening became more vivid.
Anne. My best friend. Pretty, intelligent, from a good family. But I didn't like the way she talked to me that night. She was getting her hopes up, and that's something I can't stand. I even thought I heard the word "dowry" used.
Beatrice. Short, chubby, red hair. Irish descent. Not my type, but at least she wasn't pushy or vulgar.
Jane was even more so. She was also the one who had transferred her perfume to me. She was constantly hanging around my neck, trying to kiss me, and constantly pretending to be my future wife. I didn't dare say that I could never have her. But she would soon realize it anyway.
Rachel. She was my star tonight. Tall, slim, with a narrow, even face framed by long, chestnut-colored hair. The sister of my best friend Peter. I'd known her for a long time, yet it seemed to me as if we had only just met. I constantly sought her company, but somehow she avoided me. Maybe she was far too shy to be with me in public the way we usually did. Or maybe she thought things with Jane were serious.
But something else happened that night that I couldn't get out of my head. Something I hadn't thought possible. And yet it happened.
Steven, a school friend, was also at the party. A quiet, level-headed young man. About my age but a little shorter, slim, with dark hair, brown eyes, and... Well, somehow, he was always around me, along with Jane.
Anyway, I went to the bathroom at midnight, and when I came out, he was standing in front of the door with his arms crossed. He had this weird expression on his face.
“Are you not feeling well?” I asked him.
"No, I don't."
"Do you want to be taken home?"
"No. I don't feel sick, if that's what you mean."
"Then what is it?"
Steven suddenly looked at me in a way that made me feel completely different.
"It's you," he said casually.
"What do you mean? Did I misbehave?"
Despite the diffuse light, I saw that his eyes were moist.
"Nonsense, you can't do that."
"Yes, but what is it then?"
He came up to me, put his hands around my waist and before I knew it, he kissed me on the cheek.
He stepped back abruptly, but his eyes suddenly shone.
"I kissed Prince Wallice."
I must have stood there like a pillar of salt. Somehow, I was used to getting kisses like that from all sorts of people in my extended family. I liked most of the people who did it, but this was something completely different.
The realization that Steven might be gay wouldn't affect my friendship with him. He suddenly looked genuinely happy, and I was kind of happy for him. If you could cheer someone up with such a small thing, then that was fine with me, too. I hugged him in return.
"Hey, Steve, no matter what your feelings are, you are and will always be my friend."
He smiled gorgeously and beamed at me with sparkling eyes.
»Ehrlich?«
"If the prince says something, then it is so."
We stood there for a long time until Peter stepped in front of us.
"Hey, are there any problems?"
I broke up with Steve.
"Not really. Steven has a little problem, and we just sorted it out."
“Come in,” I called when there was a knock at the door.
My father stood in the doorway with a strange grin on his face.
"Well, young man, did you sleep well?"
I nodded, and he certainly guessed how I was really feeling. His eyes scanned the room. Of course, he must have hoped I wasn't spending the night alone in my bed; I could clearly see that. He also expressed his disappointment that his expectations hadn't been fulfilled.
He just waved briefly.
"When are you coming down? The Scotbys are on their way."
I swallowed. Yes, the Scotbys. The entire nobility of the country. From my grandparents down to the sirs and lords.
"Give me some time, the night was long."
"Yes, but not for too long. The press is also on the prowl. And you know, you can't always escape them."
"Yes," I groaned, "I know."
There was nothing I hated more than the public, and the worst of all were reporters. It was practically impossible to avoid them, especially on a day like this.
I stepped in front of the mirror again. No, nothing had changed.
The long shower afterward was primarily dedicated to that horrible perfume. Even as I dried myself off, it still seemed to cling to me. I would definitely avoid Jane if I caught even the slightest hint of that almost pungent scent again.
I looked out the window of our Folthmore estate in Gloucestershire, southwest England. Being a prince isn't exactly easy. The world is watching you, whether you like it or not. A lot of cars had pulled up by now, most of them probably belonging to those hyenas, as I aptly called the reporters. Cameras were being set up; it was a real commotion. I gazed longingly into the forest that stretched far behind the estate. My greatest wish at that moment was to disappear in there. Perhaps it would pour with rain and this bunch would get soaked to the bone. But it was a beautiful day, and going into hiding was out of the question anyway. A prince second in line to the throne couldn't escape the mob. People want to see him, to be part of his life. Maybe I'm part of their dreams, too. The dream of endless lazing around, spending money, and all the fun you supposedly have. And every woman in the world would be at your feet. If only they knew... And all I wanted was peace and quiet. Studying like thousands of other boys, without having to endure those secret glances. And the whispering, too. The girls were often beyond annoying. On more than one occasion, I'd locked myself in my room and cried. Begging to be like everyone else out there. But it didn't help. Future Prince of Witham—and one day, King. Did I really want that? Was that my destiny?
Sure, I had a lot of perks. A lot of them, in fact. My work abroad. I had priority, no matter what club I was in. They tried to anticipate my every need; I wasn't denied anything.
What gave me the most joy were the regular visits to children's and animal shelters. There was no sensationalism, no envy, no excessive politeness. I was able to be the person I truly am.
But there was also the other side. Although I didn't yet have any real responsibilities, and the throne and its associated responsibilities were far away, every day I became more aware of what would come my way.
They stood in the castle ballroom, my dear relatives from all corners of the country. From the Lord to my grandmother, the Queen of Witham. And the cuddling began. I took it bravely; after all, I didn't have much choice. I was pleased to spot Peter in the crowd. My best friend was never far from me, and I valued him as the person I loved most. His presence meant security, comfort in difficult times, joy, and fun. He was also the one who comforted me for days after my mother died. I don't know how I would have managed without him. Peter was related to me very distantly, through a thousand different connections or so. We'd known each other since we were children, and I think I would have given up the throne for our friendship. Now I saw him, discreetly in the background. Sometimes he seemed like a bodyguard to me, because he hardly let me out of his sight. And I needed this closeness, on this day more than usual. I would have loved to grab his arm and run out. Anywhere, just away from all this. But a prince isn't allowed to do that. He's not allowed to do so many things. And if he was, then only under observation. Often it was only in the tiny cubicle of a toilet somewhere on some special occasion that I could be alone for minutes at a time. Then I would close the door, sit down on the toilet lid and listen to myself, try to forget everything around me for a few minutes. Think about my future and my life in general. But whatever I made up in my head – shortly afterwards I was back in the spotlight.
»Steven?«
I suddenly looked into the boy's face. I had expected everyone to be here, but not him. But of course, he was my great-aunt Agnetha's son, after all, why shouldn't he be here?
There they were again, those brown eyes, that smile. And a look I couldn't interpret. I'm rarely prone to goosebumps, but there they came. It enveloped my entire body for a few seconds, then was replaced by a very pleasant sensation. Suddenly, I felt his kiss again and realized that it hadn't been unpleasant. Jane's perfume had been much more of an unpleasant sensation.
The banquet that evening was just as dramatic. Luckily, Peter sat to my right, Steven to my left. I had requested this seating arrangement and had encountered considerable resistance from some family members; after all, the seating arrangement had been planned weeks in advance. But that didn't really matter to me that evening; no one was more important to me than those two. Well, a few dirty looks came from Julie, one of my numerous nieces. But she's really not that great. And from Sarah. Well, there's no accounting for taste. She's pretty, sort of, but just as dim-witted. Nothing attracted me to them, and the aristocratic people around me viewed these things with disapproval, even if they didn't officially admit it. There was a fear that one day I might bring a commoner along. That couldn't be allowed to happen. Basically, it was regulations like these that often annoyed me. And putting on a brave face was particularly difficult for me.
My presents were the highlight of the evening. Dad gave me a new VW Golf, the very one I had adored so much when I was shopping in Dover weeks earlier. I won't list the other presents; that would take too long. But I have to mention Peter's bracelet. Made of copper. It was supposed to keep me healthy for a long time, and I was more pleased about it than all the other things. Well, Grandma insisted on giving me a computer. I was pretty familiar with those things, but I hadn't had one of my own yet. Why should I have one? I was rarely at home.
What a celebration they had. After the various speeches from my father and some uncles, the evening dragged on. Luckily, the whole thing devolved into a kind of standing party, so I was able to sneak away with Peter and Steve for a while. I felt like having a cigarette and a strong glass of red wine. I could have drunk it on its own, but it tasted better surrounded by people who meant something to me.
We sneaked into the kitchen, where I was never normally present. The cooks almost fell into their pots when we showed up there late at night. I felt like they'd been paralyzed with an electric shocker. But after a few words of explanation, the mood lifted, and we had a truly wonderful hour together. We smoked like crazy with the cooks, drank sherry and wine, nibbled on lobster tails, and spooned caviar. I hadn't felt this comfortable in a long time.
Slightly tipsy, we returned to the ballroom. No one had really missed us; there were too many people there.
My father stepped in front of me.
"You know we're starting our European trip in four weeks?"
Sure, how could I have forgotten? Luckily, nothing highly official this time. A visit to the Airbus production facilities. Hamburg, Toulouse, Illescas, Cadiz. A week to see something other than just politicians, and somehow I was actually looking forward to it. And the best thing was – none of my nieces or other hangers-on were there. My grandmother, father, the finance and education ministers, and then the usual entourage. I wondered about some of them, though, what they were doing on such a tour, but it wasn't up to me to decide—not yet. In Hamburg, a reception with the German Chancellor was scheduled. Oh well, whatever. I'll survive, I thought to myself. Peter didn't have time, which I was very sorry about, because with him by my side, everything would have been even better. After all, we were very interested in aviation, and I wanted to become an air force officer one day.
It was well past midnight when the first guests left, and I was dead tired. I still hadn't fully digested the previous night, and I was really glad to be getting into bed. Steven had left early; he was also completely exhausted. Peter followed shortly after, and from then on, of course, things got really boring.
It was finally three in the morning before the last person left the house. Feeling completely exhausted, I pulled myself up the railing to my rooms on the upper floor. I could no longer see or hear anything.
But I couldn't sleep for a while. I had 20 text messages on my phone, and of course I had to read them first. Almost all of my friends from university had contacted me. Steven was one of them.
"Hi Wallice. I hope you're doing well after such a stressful night. I wanted to apologize for the kiss, it really slipped up. But... I don't think you're holding a grudge. Or do you see me differently when you're sober? I didn't want to ask you that tonight, it was so nice. Have a good night. Cheers, Steve."
Aha, sure. He was afraid I would still hold it against him. I didn't. I lay down on my bed and read the message a few more times. I saw Steve again, felt his gentle, soft lips on my cheek. Saw those sparkling eyes, that smile.
I turned off the light and turned on my side. Even though I was so tired, I couldn't get Steve out of my head. I had so many other things to keep me busy. My presents, my new car, the trip through Europe. No, Steve was stuck in my head like a Band-Aid, blocking the flow of other thoughts.
Again and again, his face appeared before me. That cute little snub nose, those eyes. And... did I just smell him? Not perfume. I ran my trembling fingers over the spot where his kiss had landed. Was it just now? Was it even there? What was happening right now?
Stirred by my emotions, I stood up and went to the window. A few lanterns in front of the house provided enough light to see the bodyguards making their rounds. One of the men raised his hand and waved to me cautiously. These people missed nothing, absolutely nothing.
And at that moment, a curtain rose. It slid silently upward, as one sees in a play. Behind it, another world revealed itself to me.
What happened the other day in Dartmoor? The Prime Minister had invited me to a reception. I don't remember the reason, but it doesn't matter. Anyway, I was walking towards the entrance next to my father when a young bodyguard stood in front of me. He stared at me and nodded very furtively; no one but me noticed. Then he stepped aside and let me pass. Well, at that moment his face appeared again in my mind's eye. He had been a very handsome young man, but I only realized it then. I had met him a few times that evening, and it was always that look. From then on, I knew that I was attracted to him in the same way; I had simply ignored it.
"You can't be gay," I told myself quietly. "You're not allowed to be. Blue bloods are never gay."
The guard kept looking up at me at the window. He could only see my shadow, because it was dark in my room.
Did they realize what might be wrong with me? Didn't I once read that gay men can sense when their own kind is nearby? Did Steve only kiss me because he was sure he would?
I felt hot. Very hot. Why weren't Beatrice, Jane, or Rachel vying for me in my head? That would have been logical.
I sat back on my bed and stared at my phone. I had to answer Steve, no matter what.
A flash of lightning lit up my room. Was this a sign? Was something I'd never expected beginning? And what if it really was?
It would probably remain my secret for life. I had to find a noble woman, marry her, and have children. That was what etiquette demanded. A gay prince? In this country? Never.
Thunder confirmed to me that I hadn't been dreaming. From that night on, my life would look different. No, not one life. Two. The one the state wanted to see and the one I was truly living. My life.
I felt tears in my eyes. Not that they were tears of disappointment in myself or my feelings. No, it was nothing but the certainty that I would never be able to be the person I truly am.
It was the second morning in a row that I wasn't feeling particularly well. But this time it wasn't just the alcohol that was to blame.
"Hey, is something wrong?" my dad immediately wanted to know when I walked into the dining room. He was always a good observer, which sometimes got on my nerves.
I couldn't tell him what was going on, never. He was one of those arch-conservatives who abhorred any kind of alternative lifestyle. And gay people were at the top of that list anyway. Admittedly, I'd never given it much thought, because I had no contact with them.
With them? Thinking like that sent shivers down my spine. I belonged to them, even if I might not have wanted to admit it at the time.
"No, it's nothing."
I sensed that he didn't believe me.
"Here, read this," he said, handing me a list. The itinerary of our European trip.
"If you want to make small changes, do so early. You know the minutes have to be ready three days in advance. I'll leave you now; I have to go to Parliament. See you then."
He stroked my hair, something I'd never minded all these years. That morning, for the first time, I flinched at the touch, and Dad noticed.
But he just grinned from ear to ear.
"Aha, my boy is grown up."
With this strange saying he left me sitting there and disappeared.
There were a few interesting things on the list. I was most looking forward to Hamburg. I think I'd been there before, but I could barely remember it. It was cold, and I was grumpy. Somehow, I'd lost my stuffed teddy bear.
"Welcome by the Mayor of Hamburg on the Town Hall Square. Followed by a visit to the Airbus production facility in Hamburg-Finkenwerder. Afterward, a meeting with the Chancellor of the Federal Republic of Germany at the Town Hall. In the evening, a banquet will take place in the Great Hall."
Well, that was fine with me; it certainly didn't sound like stress. After all, that was threatening me from a completely different direction: constant stress with my emotions.
I retreated to my room. Luckily, it was vacation time and I didn't have to worry about things like studying.
I held my cell phone in front of me and was tempted to call Steve. But I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to do it. Peter? Not him either, I'd lose him if he found out. I couldn't expect him to understand. Peter was a bit of a womanizer, and I'd often noticed that he liked seeing me in the company of young ladies. Maybe he even had a double wedding in mind, who knew? But the fact that his best friend was gay would probably be a disaster for him. Somehow I could see my chances of survival slipping away. Surely I could keep it a secret until old age. But did I really want that, at the cost of the crown? Admittedly, the idea of being king did appeal to me someday.
But during this time, I also thought about all the others. Those who weren't fortunate enough to grow up at court and had to live in poverty out there. Those who barely had enough money for clothes and food and had to fight the battle for survival every day. Alcohol, drugs, and prostitution were never far away. I was aware of these circumstances, but I regularly repressed them.
"Most people are to blame themselves," I often heard when this topic came up. But I always had the feeling that no one here really wanted anything to do with it.
Every day, there was something about us in the newspaper. Some kind of visit, a celebration, a wedding, or a birthday. Then I pictured the beggars and the stranded in my mind's eye, fishing the newspapers out of the trash cans and looking at the photos. All that food, the outrageously expensive dresses and suits, the beaming faces. How must a person feel on the edge of the abyss?
Maybe I didn't fit in here at all. I was born into high society through no fault of my own. I increasingly hated my fickleness, yet I didn't know how to deal with it.
"There's someone out there who will desire and understand you," I heard myself thinking.
Out there? I could never be there.
My cell phone rang.
"Hello Steve."
"Well, my prince, how are you this morning?"
I was happy to hear his voice.
"You shouldn't always call me Prince," I complained into the phone.
"But you are."
"Yeah, okay, what's up?"
I swallowed. There was nothing I longed for more than him, and nothing I feared more intensely.
"Tomorrow is a fox hunt. You're definitely there?"
Fox hunting. It was a nightmare, and I hated it. I loved animals, no matter what form they took, and foxes especially. These cunning, secretive creatures; they had a right to life like the rest of us. But the nobility saw it differently. Not that they didn't like those little dogs, but they had been hunted for hundreds of years. And somehow, no one really cared about the brutality of this "sport."
But I had to go; we were expected to participate once a year. Everyone was really excited about this day, and I was the only one who kept my deep dislike to myself. Well, Steve had complained the last time, too. He'd said something about murder, but we had no way to escape the carnage.
"Yeah, sure, I'm in."
"Great. We're riding together, right?"
"Secure."
"Is something wrong?"
"No, Steve, it's nothing. See you tomorrow."
Of course, Steven was sensitive enough to realize that something was wrong with me. I suspected that Steve was only riding along because I was there.
I threw myself onto my bed. There was nothing I hated more than fox hunting, but I couldn't exclude myself from it. Even a prince can get sick sometimes. I began to think of a simple yet effective cure.
There was no illness involved. A look in the mirror that morning was enough for me; I looked the picture of health; no one would have believed I was sick.
So I put on my riding attire. I thought it suited me very well. Just not for this occasion.
And the sun was shining. No bad weather, no storm. Nothing that could have spoiled the hunt. I like the sun and summer, but on this day I would have preferred a massive storm.
What always made me happiest were the many dogs, and Fips was my favorite. The smallest of all the dogs. Sometimes I'd put him on my horse when the route became too long for him. He belonged to Lord John, but whenever the little one saw me, he would regularly freak out.
The proud horse stood next to me.
"Hello, my prince," Steven said, so quietly that only I could hear. What did he look like on his black horse? More like a prince than me.
"Hello Steve. You're supposed to..."
"...don't call me prince," he laughed. "But what can I do? You are and will always be."
Steve was a beauty among all the others here; he was simply handsome. That pale face, his dark hair curling out from under his riding helmet, giving the boy a certain wildness. Those eyes, that dazzling smile, and the narrow waist in his riding uniform. Wouldn't I much rather have been galloping with him at a gallop through woods and meadows, always close together? Just for fun?
But the whole group gathered as usual in the courtyard of the stud farm, which was attached to the country estate.
Sparkling wine, red wine, and Campari. The riders fortified themselves with these, and then the race began. Cross-country, followed by the press. And I even thought I saw a camera crew in the yard. They were capable of following us in a helicopter.
Steve and I kept a low profile. What had once been a given for me took on a whole new dimension after his coming out.
In the middle of the forest, we had to stop at a tree trunk lying across the path, and there they were, the hyenas. A flurry of camera flashes, microphones, and questions.
Steve and I looked at each other. All I could say to the reporters was "no comment," and then we both dashed into the bushes. I knew fox hunting was going to be abolished, and that was what the questions were aimed at; but I was just as barred from commenting on it as Steven was.
We rode as if the devil himself were after us and soon after we had left the annoying questioners behind.
We dismounted at a small stream and watered our horses.
Without any words, Steve opened his saddlebags and began preparing a picnic.
"Let them come looking for us, I don't feel like chasing those poor animals. Our people saw we were there, so they couldn't care less."
I knew this would cause trouble. The court rarely forgave such antics, and I didn't feel comfortable. Dad would spank me—even at eighteen.
"Hey Wallice, what's up? Would you rather be with those murderers?"
"No, of course not."
"Then come on, I ordered some treats. But I don't feel like taking them back."
Bread, sausage, ham, smoked fish, cheese, tomatoes, fruit and a bottle of red wine soon adorned the blanket that Steve had spread out.
I sat cross-legged next to him. It was actually wonderful at that moment. But was it just the knowledge of a relatively carefree life? Food and drink? The beautiful summer day? Our horses, leisurely grazing the grass next to us?
No, that wasn't it alone; I felt it exactly. A fascination. Steve was to blame for my mood.
He ate like he hadn't had anything to eat in days. I had a bit of a hard time with that; every time I looked at him, my appetite diminished a little more. It wasn't because he was gay. It was because of me. Beads of sweat ran down my temples.
I watched his hands and fingers as he sliced the ham, quartered the tomatoes, and bit into the bread. His movements were sometimes delicate, and suddenly I felt drawn to him.
"Aren't you hungry? You haven't eaten in hours," he asked after a while, chewing.
"Yes, but..."
He looked at me with his beautiful eyes and I felt completely different again.
"But what?" he asked, nibbling at the fish.
"Nothing. It's nothing."
He dropped his hands into his lap and stared at me.
"What do you mean nothing?"
Suddenly, the smile disappeared from his lips. He stared at me for what seemed like an eternity.
"It's the kiss, isn't it? You reject me and my feelings, right?"
"No, Steve, not at all."
"Then may I find out what it is?"
"Let's open the wine," I said.
How Steve managed to get real glasses all the way here without breaking was a mystery to me.
We clinked glasses, his expression unwavering. He sensed something bubbling inside me, but he had no idea what it was.
After the alcohol had caused a pleasant burning sensation in my stomach, I couldn't hold back any longer. We were alone out here, no one could see us. And Steve was worth it.
I placed my hand on his arm, which earned me an incredulous look. I looked into those brown eyes, studied his eyelashes, his nose, his sensual mouth.
When Steve started blinking so funny, I let myself fall. Into a world I didn't yet know, but wanted to get to know. Slowly, our heads moved closer together.
"Steve, I don't know either..."
He held his index finger to my mouth.
"You don't have to talk now."
His kiss on my lips was tender, like a warm breeze that day. I almost didn't feel his hands stroking my back. But they were there.
It only took a few seconds, but they were enough to reveal my true feelings.
I ran my tongue over my lips.
"You taste totally fishy," I grinned.
"Well, that's your own fault," Steve laughed back. "If you'd eaten it, you wouldn't have noticed."
Gradually I started to get hungry and a little later there was hardly anything left of the picnic.
"So you like boys too?" Steve asked me after a long pause.
"I think that's probably how it is. But you already knew."
He looked at me thoughtfully.
"Didn't know—hoped. You've been on my mind lately, and I had no idea why. Until now."
His eyes suddenly widened.
"Shit."
"Hey, you don't say that."
"Yes. How do you plan to do that? If the press finds out, you can emigrate."
"Whether she finds out or not, I'm going to do it anyway."
He opened his eyes wide.
»Was?«
"Do you think I want to put down roots here? With a woman I can't love, with brats who annoy me day and night? No, Steve, I've already decided. I'll finish college in three years, and then it's time to call it a day. We can keep it a secret until then, right?"
He stroked my hair.
"Okay, I get it," he said, his disappointment with my plan evident.
I should have expected that, but it didn't matter anyway.
"And what about Peter? You'll have to tell him," he finally said.
"Not before. We're friends, yes, but if I tell him, it's over."
"Are you sure?"
"No, of course not. But in terms of percentages, as far as his acceptance goes, I see three zeros in front of him. He'll avoid me. And the later that happens, the better. I'll just live with a lie for so long, but I can't think of anything else."
We looked into each other's eyes for an eternity.
"What did you actually want to express with that kiss?" I asked.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, you intended that kiss; it was hardly coincidence or spontaneity."
He grinned.
"No, that was purely intentional."
"And did you do that because... because maybe you love me... a little?"
Steve shrugged.
"Come on, we have to go."
Dad's lecture that evening had been as expected. How dare I leave the entourage and so on.
"Wallice, I don't want you to go it alone. You have responsibilities, and you have to face them. Besides, you're eighteen now..."
I knew what was coming.
"You know that discipline is expected of you. We all hope that you don't break the honorable line with any escapades."
Suddenly he became very quiet.
"If you have to hang out with girls, please don't... just any girl off the street. There are plenty here who are your equal."
That was it, and I just nodded obediently, almost boiling over. It wasn't my dad speaking, it was the mob. They were demanding it. My father was by no means an angel of nobility. I knew there were parts of his past that appeared more than just gray. But apparently, he only wanted to warn me about the consequences of such missteps. But it was no use to him. No daughter-in-law, no grandchildren. When would I have to tell him?
After I finished my studies, I was truly on my own two feet and able to take care of myself.
My underlying fear that everything would come out through Steve was wearing me down. How much could I trust him? Was he so happy with our "relationship" that he'd blurt it out at an awkward moment? Unfortunately, he often hung out with the court's biggest gossips, and he wasn't a calculating type either. But I had to rely on his silence. Pointing it out to him again now would be seen as a breach of trust, and I couldn't do that to him.
The fact that he didn't answer my question about whether he loved me a little also bothered me. I couldn't say there was any love involved, at least not on my part. I liked him very much, no doubt about it. But love?
One day after the fox hunt, Peter came to visit, with Baroness Sonja von Altstetten in tow. Another old noblewoman, of German descent but living here. Peter was truly a womanizer; every month he dragged a different woman into the spotlight. But I didn't care.
Until this very evening.
I never really felt any auras or anything like that, but something inside me shrank when I saw this strange Sonja. Aside from the fact that she let her arrogance show in good time, I didn't like her whole demeanor. And she didn't like me, from the very first minute.
It was stupid that I'd once read that women could sense a man's homoerotic desires quite clearly. Not all of them, but not a few of them either. And I felt like she had seen through me from the very beginning.
"You've been more talkative before," Peter pointed out to me at dinner. I simply didn't dare to speak as freely as usual. This woman set off all the red lights in my head, and I sensed that she posed a certain danger. Her nature was perfect for destroying friendships. Jealousy at its finest. I didn't dare look her in the eye and avoided every unnecessary word.
Later, when I went to my room to check my phone, Peter suddenly appeared behind me.
"Tell me, what's wrong with you? I've never seen you like this before."
I looked at him, perhaps for the first time through the eyes of a gay man. Peter was a bit taller than me, slim, with dark blond hair. Only now did I really notice his blue eyes, his mouth. Was that the urge to kiss him?
I was ashamed of my thoughts, from which he then tore me.
He grabbed me quite roughly by the arms.
"Sonja is a beautiful, lovely woman. But you don't have to worry about me dumping you because of her. We're friends, don't forget that."
I venomized him.
"Oh yeah? Her looks... if they could kill. What did you tell her about me?"
He swallowed and stared at me.
"What's with that tone? And what am I supposed to have said? The usual stuff. What we do... But tell me, you haven't usually worried about this sort of thing, have you?"
"No, that wasn't necessary there either. But with her, it was. She's jealous of me, even a blind man with a crutch can tell."
"You see ghosts."
"No, Peter, I don't. She's not for you. I'll give you four weeks, then the sparks will fly."
He grabbed me even tighter and shook me.
"Say, do you spin?"
"No, definitely not. Now please leave me alone, I don't want to face her again."
He ran to the door and closed it.
He slowly came to me.
"Wallice, what on earth has gotten into you? There's something wrong with you."
I sat down on the bed and buried my face in my hands; Peter didn't have to see my tears. I'd never cried in front of him, nor he in front of me. But now it was time; I was breaking through. If he was defending his Baroness and ignoring my warnings, then he might as well know the truth about me. Peter would keep quiet, I knew that. We wouldn't be able to be friends anymore, but I could count on his discretion—and I didn't have to endure Sonja's closeness anymore.
He took my hands and pulled them away from my face. I was really embarrassed looking at him with my wet face, but I didn't have the strength to resist.
He took me in his arms and hugged me.
"Idiot. I always told you I'd never let you down. I'd rather send women to hell. You're far too important in my life."
His words only made things worse.
"Would you still do that... if you knew... that your best friend was gay?"
Fog appeared all around me. A cold, gray fog, and it obscured my thoughts and feelings. It was as if I no longer had any legs. I was just floating in a monotony of space and time.
Peter's embrace didn't break. He still held me tight, stroking my back with his hands, while my arms hung limply at my sides. I wanted to, but I couldn't, touch him. Perhaps also out of fear that he might misunderstand.
The door burst open. I flinched at first, then all I could see were angry, glaring eyes. Normally, I would have verbally escorted this woman out of the property, but I was simply speechless at her impudence.
Peter's embrace loosened and he turned around.
»Sonja?«
"Aha. Very interesting. What's going on here? Is our gay prince trying to seduce you?"
On the one hand, I couldn't believe it, but on the other, my suspicions were confirmed. It was even worse than my wildest dreams had predicted. Now it was up to Peter to get the situation under control.
"What nonsense are you talking about? How did you even come up with that?" he then asked.
"What? That your so-called friend is gay? I already knew, even before I met him. You just have to look closely at the photos. Or watch him on TV. He's after you, right? Great. The future king is gay."
She leaned provocatively against the doorframe and crossed her arms.
"Peter, don't let anyone know. They'll drag you into this, and then you'll have to start working as a garbage collector."
I stared at him; Peter, my best friend...
Seconds later I knew I had lost him.
He slowly turned around and looked at me. He did this for a long time, his breathing visibly nervous. He seemed to be fighting a bitter battle with himself. Here was his best friend of ages, there was a surely pretty woman. Yes, and he could do a lot more with her than with a gay man. I felt Peter moving away from me. Slowly but surely.
Again he looked over at Sonja, who was still leaning against the doorframe. She was expecting a reaction, no matter what kind. Peter knew she'd talk if he told her to go to hell because of me. He couldn't care less about me, but that bitch would claim he was gay. That wouldn't work, of course, so I turned away from him and went to the window.
"Peter, it's better if you go," I said quietly, and the fog was still there. Or were tears feigning it?
I felt his eyes on my back. Sonja said nothing; I wouldn't have listened anyway. Losing your best friend was probably not something she'd ever know. But at that moment, I wished on her everything you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy. I ruled out Peter; he couldn't act any differently.
"What is it? Didn't you hear him? Come on, this environment is driving me crazy."
Every word she spoke was like a dagger in my chest. If Peter had been Steven, I would have killed her, under that door.
"How dare you? Don't forget where you are," I snarled viciously.
For a moment she seemed perplexed, then she put on this disgusting grin.
"How could I forget? Sorry, I'm standing opposite Prince Wallice. Unfortunately, he seems a bit out of character. And does he have the right to talk to normal people like that?"
When Peter didn't move, she ran to him, grabbed his sleeve, and pulled him behind her. Until that second, I had hoped he would choose me, but he didn't. His fear was too great, and I understood him. My anger was focused solely on her. She probably still had those medieval genes in her blood that favored witch burnings. She certainly would have loved to see me burned at the stake.
I stood at the window for a long time, watching the two of them get into the car. Peter looked up at me once, then they roared out the exit.
I had no more tears. Deep down, I knew this wasn't goodbye forever, couldn't be. He would soon throw that bitch out, no matter what the argument. Maybe he was smart enough to find out something about her past. The smallest thing would be enough to silence her.
I had to wait; we were far too attached to each other. So I almost considered this process a plan.
For the next three weeks, I was busy with visits, conferences, inaugurations, and openings of numerous institutions. Peter visited me a few times without his new acquaintance, but we never spoke about that evening. I only felt the wall that had built up between us. Apparently, he was more attached to her than to me, and although I regretted it, I had to accept it.
I rarely saw Steve; he said he had to study hard because his grades weren't the best.
The evenings had been the worst so far. Dad was apparently in some kind of new relationship, and I was happy for him. After all, it had been five years since Mom died, so why shouldn't he be allowed to fall in love again? The only reason for the fire was because his new girlfriend wasn't from the court. This really stirred up the mob again, and I stopped reading the latest news about his romance in the gossip magazines.
For these reasons, he did not want to take her with him on the trip.
The European trip was slowly approaching. Finally, a change, finally something different to see. On the one hand, I was thrilled when Peter told me on the phone that he could come along after all. On the other hand, there was a damper because he wanted to take his Sonja with him. Well, I would stay as far away from her as possible. By now, I'd also acquired a small emotional cushion that allowed me to take the whole thing less seriously.
The day before departure was, of course, hectic as always. I didn't have to gather my clothes; the valet took care of that. Partly because I couldn't wear what I wanted anyway, it didn't matter. At best, my underwear had a chance. And I took advantage of it. Fine retro dresses and white T-shirts were in.
That evening, Dad told me he was proud of me and that he wanted me to be his representative once he ascended the throne. It was kind of strange, because I loved my grandmother and hoped she would rule this country for a long time to come.
The next morning, we drove to the airport in six limousines. It was pouring with rain, but according to the weather forecast, the sun was shining in Hamburg. I was looking forward to the trip, even though I knew Peter and Sonja would be in one of the cars. Dad, Grandma, and I drove in separate cars; we didn't want to take any risks. Even in our country, you weren't always safe everywhere. So we flew to Hamburg on more than one plane.
Landing in Hamburg. The plane with Grandma and the MPs was already there, then we arrived.
The sun was indeed shining, and the reception was truly overwhelming. I walked alongside Dad and Grandma, greeting the guard battalion that had formed a long line next to the red carpet. I surreptitiously glanced at one or two of the guards. There were some handsome boys among them, albeit a bit older. It was a good thing that no one could read my thoughts at that moment.
The mayor welcomed us, along with a number of other dignitaries, and after the usual ceremony, we drove in a procession to the town hall. A surprising number of people stood along the side of the road and waved to us. Again, my eyes searched for something that would gladden my heart. But there was nothing. No boy who could have granted my wish. Girls, women, older men. Sure, who else would be interested in us? Thanks to Grandma's new computer, I learned online that I had many female fans in Germany. Sure, it would be a good match... "...the very handsome Prince of Witham is apparently still single..." it said. And that's why they were all there that day. Because of me...
Admittedly, it was a nice feeling. Still, I often thought about Steve sitting at home studying. Was he thinking about me too? I sent him a text message from the car.
The cars stopped right in front of the town hall, and again I was amazed at how many people were gathered there. They shouted and clapped, but I didn't miss the fact that there were also banners against us in the distance. "Stop the fox hunt," I could read. Yes, people here were against this animal cruelty, too, and I was secretly pleased by this demonstration, albeit small.
We walked towards the entrance of the town hall and suddenly I saw some boys enthusiastically waving flags.
I don't remember why, but one of them had a magical pull on me. His face, his hair, his figure, the look in his eyes. Steve lost all of his importance in that moment. As if compelled, I headed toward him, my eyes fixed on his. It was like an inner command. As soon as I was within arm's length, he grabbed my hand.
At that moment, a flash blinded my eyes, followed by a deafening bang. His grip hurt, almost like a vice, and he pulled me into the crowd. Suddenly, all around me were screaming people. I turned around and saw the bodysuits quickly dragging my father and grandmother away. Peter ran to a lifeless body in the street, and for a few seconds, I thought of Sonja.
Screams filled the air, into which a thick, black cloud of smoke rose. Unimaginable panic surrounded me, but the vise still gripped my arm and began to pull me along. No one paid any attention; I had become part of these panicked people. This stranger pulled me further and further along in the stream of the fleeing crowd.
Sirens, helicopters, loudspeaker announcements. Sweat was pouring down my body, and after the shock, I was slowly starting to panic myself.
But above all, who was the young guy who was constantly pulling me along with him?
Axel--
Hamburg,
(before
a
Month)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I woke up on this crappy morning feeling completely worn out; yesterday's party had been pretty intense. The whole thing with Felix was particularly bothering me. Did this incident have to happen in the bathroom?
The fact that I gave him a blow job was fine. But that relationship stuff I then blurted out with my broad head. Crap.
I had zero desire for a relationship with Felix and was talking such nonsense. Like, I loved him and all that. I guess I had a lot to set right.
I pushed these thoughts aside for the time being, because my primary concern now was to do something about my headache. So I went into our kitchen and found my roommates already there.
Living in a shared apartment had its advantages and disadvantages. One advantage was that I got away from my parents. One disadvantage was that I lived with arguably the two sloppiest people on the planet. Together with me, we formed the infernal trio. The kitchen looked accordingly. Pots, bowls, and plates were piled up on and in the sink. Some things came to life just by looking at them.
I had to throw up and ran to the bathroom. This sight, coupled with my hangover, was just too much for me.
After throwing up and brushing my teeth, I went back to the kitchen, where two malicious faces were already grinning at me.
"Well, did you have a rough night?"
The person who said that was Shokki. His real name is Rainer. But since the name didn't suit him at all, and he wasn't even 40 yet, he used that nickname. Shokki was our tinkerer. He tore apart everything he could get his hands on. Unfortunately, he then had trouble reassembling the devices properly.
I only had to think of my DVD player, which he wanted to repair. Now it was lying nonfunctional in some corner.
Then there was Jo (from Joachim).
Jo is a cerebral person, a brooder. Before he does something, he thinks about it for hours. He considers all eventualities, and once he's finished thinking, he starts over.
The two could talk for hours about any topic of global politics, preferably at night, with a bottle of red wine and some weed to smoke.
We'd known each other since childhood. Even though we were very different, we complemented each other perfectly. Each had their own strengths and weaknesses, which we tolerated.
I hadn't yet discovered my strengths, but I had discovered my weaknesses. And there were quite a few.
Men.
Meaning: my dick-ven thinking. But enough of that.
"What kind of night?" I was still not quite there and got an aspirin from the cupboard.
"Well, last night? You seem to have had a rough night."
"How come?"
"So, because of the vomiting?"
"When I see you this early in the morning? Is it a miracle?"
"Early morning?" The two laughed. "It's 3 p.m."
"I told you, early morning. And what did you do yesterday?"
"We didn't do anything, we just did things," Jo clarified, sipping his tea.
"Sure. When was the last time you had contact with a female? In the last century?"
I should also mention that they both like women. Well, not everyone can be perfect.
"Not everyone has to whore around like you."
"So what did you do? Play do-gooders again?"
"I've never seen such an apolitical person as you, Axel."
"Bal blah, what are you trying to accomplish?"
"Here," said Shokki, and handed me an article from Attac. Something about the British royal family, but I wasn't particularly interested. I found the picture of Prince Wallice much more interesting.
"Hmm, he's cute. I definitely wouldn't say no to him."
The two looked at each other in disbelief and shook their heads.
"I think if you didn't have your dick, you wouldn't have a brain at all."
"Why? He's really cute!"
"You're not supposed to look at that aristocratic ass, you're supposed to read the article. Do you actually know how much tax money the royal family wastes on such nonsense as receptions, etc.?"
»Well.«
"You don't care either, do you?"
"Not really."
"What they're doing is pure money-wasting, for nothing."
"Hmm, the tourism industry benefits from this."
"Tourism industry! When I hear that."
It wasn't too difficult to get Jo really angry. He likes to get worked up about this and that. About everything, really. I usually left him alone and pissed off. But what did he have against the tourism industry? Hadn't he just flown on vacation with LTU this summer?
But I probably shouldn't have mentioned that, otherwise he would have beheaded me.
The two of them started arguing, and I felt somehow out of place. So I left them alone and went to my room.
I needed to talk to Felix to clarify this matter, so I called him.
“Felix Brückner,” he answered the phone.
»Hi, Axel here.«
"Oh, back from the dead?"
"Don't ask, I still feel like shit."
"I can imagine, the way you got there yesterday."
"Yeah, it was shit. Can we meet somewhere?"
"At your place or mine?"
"I was thinking more about the main station?"
"Yeah, okay, when?"
"About two hours?"
"Okay, should work, in front of McDoof, Wandelhalle?"
"Great, see you later."
»Jupp.«
The concourse of Hamburg Central Station is the main station, housing several shops and restaurants. McDonald's is located on the first floor, which is more of a gallery. It's a perfect meeting place, as travelers tend to hang out on the ground floor or walk through it breathlessly.
Another advantage is that the main station is the hub of Hamburg's subway and S-Bahn network, making it relatively easy to reach.
I arrived at the station half an hour early. I slowly trudged up the steps of the gallery and went to the passage next to McDoof. There I leaned on the railing to watch the trains coming and going. I kind of like train stations; they always gave me a feeling of wanderlust. Another thing I liked was people-watching. I would then spin little stories about the people waiting or milling around there.
Who could the elderly man on the corner be waiting for? His grandchildren, whom he'd invited to McDonald's? His wife, who was out shopping? Or one of the numerous prostitutes hanging around?
The young girl who was also leaning against the railing five meters away from me. I wondered if she had a boyfriend yet. She was probably just waiting for her friends to come back so she could gossip about other boys.
Most of the time, I was completely wrong. The older gentleman was greeted by another older gentleman with a kiss on the mouth. I had to grin.
The girl was picked up by a woman, probably her mother.
My gaze fell on a guy reading a newspaper. A huge headline on the front page of a famous tabloid:
"Queen Patricia visits Germany." Below is a picture of her, her son, and her grandson, who would presumably also be coming. Prince Wallace. Wow. This guy is a real hottie.
My thoughts wandered and I thought of Felix again. He's sweet and nice, which is probably why I couldn't imagine a relationship with him. Felix is just too sweet. There were simply no points of friction that could have caused us to clash. He would rather back down than start an argument with me, and I didn't need that. I needed someone with rough edges, someone my equal. But I had to find someone like that first, and that was easier said than done. It wasn't like I had any real problems getting to know someone. But usually it was just for one night. I really am incapable of relationships, like Jo and Shokki always claim.
The list of my relationships is really short. Just one. Wow! I was with Sven for three months, and things were going really well. Until the day I got into bed with someone else; my dick had won again. Sven somehow got the hang of it. We had a huge fight, and we eventually broke up, or rather, he broke up with me.
The list of my sexual partners is, um, longer. Much longer. I can't even get them all together anymore. I guess I'm actually quite a slut in that regard.
Basically, I hated myself for it. The evening was always nice. Getting to know each other, the new body, the sex itself. The morning after was just shit. This guilty conscience was literally eating me up. A guilty conscience because I couldn't give the other person what they might have wanted: a relationship.
I had sex with a boy for the first time when I was 15. It was a classmate who I'm still friends with today. I'd never given girls a single thought. I'd always known that I was gay. Coming out didn't bother me either. I just did it without giving it too much thought. It was harder for my parents. That was one reason why I moved out of home when I was 18. That was a year ago. My parents have come to terms with it now. What else could they do? It was positive for all of us that I no longer lived at home and that we saw each other every day. That took our relationship in a different, more positive, more distant direction.
Felix came towards me with a big grin.
He hugged me.
"Hey, nice to see you."
Somewhat embarrassed, I grinned back and said:
"It's nice that you have time."
"Sure, always for you. Where do we want to go?"
»Hmm, ins Schweinske?«
»Okay.«
Schweinske is located right next to McDonald's and is a restaurant chain serving home-style food.
We sat down at a table and ordered from the waitress. Felix had a salad with roasted turkey breast, and I had spaghetti Bolognese.
»Axel?«
»Hmm?«
"Well, tell me, what's going on?"
"About last night, what I said."
"You mean your declaration of love? It was really sweet."
Oh shit, how was I supposed to get out of this? I tried a different approach.
"That was shitty of me. I don't love you and probably never can."
So, the hard way. Yes, I'm a callous jerk sometimes.
"You spoilsport!"
Now I was surprised by this answer.
"What? A spoilsport?"
"I really wanted to watch you fidgeting around for hours—and you? You're ruining everything! Damn."
"Oops, that was the last thing I expected."
"Sure, you don't really think we're even remotely compatible, do you? Well, I certainly don't. And then your rambling yesterday, wow, so awful, no, Axel, we just aren't compatible."
"I know, but I still love you very much."
"I love you too. But please never again have a scene like yesterday, okay? If you want to have sex, just say so, and that's it. You don't need to interrupt yourself like that."
"Hmm, okay. Friends?"
"Forever."
And once again, my understanding of human nature had completely failed me. Perhaps I should work on that. While I had expected the worst: whining and whining, I was now completely taken by surprise.
Inwardly I made three crosses, and the rumble of the stone that had been lifted from my heart could probably be heard for miles.
It's funny how you can be mistaken about people.
We said goodbye shortly afterward and promised to stay in touch. This contact then turned into seeing each other almost daily.
So it happened that I hung out at Felix's most evenings, and we talked about everything except sex between us. It became a taboo subject. A positive one. We were friends and no longer sexual partners, and that helped us progress enormously.
What took a huge back seat was shared apartment life. I used to be able to talk to them about anything—really anything. About our sexuality, even to the point where Shokki liked to jerk off in the bathroom. Why? I don't know. He just liked looking at himself in the mirror while doing it. Period. Well, we knew the smallest of secrets about each other. And now?
We were silent. No, or rather, they were silent. Somehow, I felt like the fifth wheel.
Well, we were growing up—whatever that meant. But like this? That it would ruin our friendship? Then I don't want to grow up!
It wasn't that the two of them were hostile towards me, it was more a vague feeling of no longer being understood.
We increasingly talked past each other. The worst part was that we all understood it, but no one did anything about it. The problems were increasingly silenced. Whereas before, we could have spent hours discussing who had what problems with whom, today we just kept silent.
We grew distant from each other. Yes, we lived together, but no longer with each other.
Other topics became more important to the two of them. For example: We were watching the news together, which included a short report on a fox hunt in England. On the TV pictures, I also saw Prince Wallice hunting with others. There had been a long-standing debate in England about whether this tradition should be abolished. Personally, I couldn't stand this animal slaughter any more than Jo and Shokki. But the two of them were once again working themselves into such a rage that I mentally tuned out and looked at the prince. He didn't look particularly happy either. Hmm, maybe he hated hunting just like most people. And I voiced this suspicion out loud. Now I had become the enemy, and the two of them attacked me. So much for talking past each other.
The stupid thing was that I probably suffered more from this situation than the two of them combined. I still loved them. Like brothers. Which they once were to me – since I never had any siblings, they became a damn good substitute.
What I also liked was our apartment. A classic old building, with high, stucco-decorated walls. Four rooms with a long hallway, a bathroom that was too small but a large kitchen. Hardwood floors in every room, which we painstakingly sanded, resealed, and polished when we moved in.
And our neighbors… a topic in itself.
Directly across the hall from us is the Grabner family, probably the most normal people in the house. Both in their mid-30s, with two boys: Tom, 17, and Sascha, 16. Corinna, our neighbor, was pregnant at 17, had her other baby at 18. Sven, her husband, didn't run away right away, but got married—well, that's still possible.
The two of them were now making up for their lost teenage years. They were out on Fridays and Saturdays after 10 p.m. To discos. I probably would have done the same. The kids are grown up, so what the heck.
The two of them were already pretty good. In some way—presumably mentally—they were still 25. They both exemplified that.
The two "children" couldn't be more different. Corinna still claims today that they must have been mistaken for one another in the hospital. I had already come to that conclusion—if only it weren't for their physical appearance. They looked like brothers and acted like them, too.
Sascha, the younger of the two, shagged anything that wasn't nailed down, preferably in his room on Fridays and Saturdays after 10 p.m. Mind you, it was the opposite sex, whose screams then echoed throughout the house.
Tom? The exact opposite. While Sascha was very extroverted, Tom was very introverted. Actually, he was the cuter of the two, but he'd never brought home a girlfriend. Let alone vomited all over the stairwell; unlike his brother.
Personally, I was leaning toward the idea that Tom was gay. Why? My understanding of human nature. Ha, ha.
The Harlings lived above us, a retired couple who'd apparently been married for ages. Mrs. Harling had a budgie with whom she had lively conversations. Her husband, a notorious complainer, hadn't spoken to his wife in decades. Is that why they're still together? Hmm, no one knows.
Across the street from Harlings lived Mr. Sachsleer, or the Phantom, as we called him. A man who came home from work, closed his door, and that was it. No visitors, nothing, just always at home.
When you rang his doorbell, he didn't open the door. A loner, Shokki once suspected he was a typical "Messi." Well, as long as no rats are running out of his apartment? Let him do it. To each his own.
Susanne lived below us. This woman had really given us a headache at first. Single, extremely attractive, in her early 30s, very well-groomed, a top-notch woman without a job. Jo guessed she'd inherited the apartment from her husband. She'd given the doddering old man in bed a little help so he could finally get off his feet.
Until one day, at 2:00 a.m., I saw Susanne in her work clothes. A whore straight out of a trashy novel. But that's exactly what she looked like. High heels, fishnet tights, a miniskirt, a red leather jacket, all very figure-hugging. We met in the stairwell, and at first I didn't know what to say, but then curiosity got the better of me:
"Hi, Susanne, need to pick someone up?"
"Hi, Axel, no job!"
"You're going to work as a prostitute?"
"Yep, why? Didn't you know?"
"No! And where?"
»Herbertstrasse.«
"Herbertstrasse? Oh shit."
"Why the hell? There's nothing better."
Susanne looked at her watch, then at me and finally said:
"Hmm, a customer at this time of night is unlikely, so it's time to call it a day! Wouldn't you like another glass of red wine, Axel?"
"Cut down."
So it happened that Susanne invited me to her apartment and we talked.
Her apartment was WOW! There's no other way to put it. Modern and cozy. White leather furniture on white tiles, pictures that were probably real, not art prints, adorned the wall. I was particularly taken with the pictures hanging there; their cozy colors contrasted with the rest. Indescribable, but somehow everything fit together. Almost too perfectly.
What made this apartment cozy were these little things: cushions on the floor, perfectly coordinated with the wall colors. Candles, and more.
Simply beautiful.
I was fascinated. Fascinated by the colors and by this apartment. Most of all, I was fascinated by this woman, who, now in more comfortable clothes, seemed like a friend to me.
"So, tell me, what do you have against Herbertstrasse?"
Herbertstrasse is probably the most famous street in Hamburg, next to the Reeperbahn. I went there once out of curiosity. It's not even a proper street, with cars and all. Shielded off from the Reeperbahn by a screen, Herbertstrasse can only be entered through a small door. Herbertstrasse is off-limits to women. It's a dead-end street lined with shop windows where prostitutes lounge. You can enter the shop windows through a recessed door and then disappear with the ladies into a back room, invisible from the outside.
"I find it quite inhumane, like a meat inspection, which is what it is."
"Stop, my dear, not so fast."
I looked at her questioningly and she continued:
"So: Herbertstrasse is the best thing there is for prostitutes and clients alike. Now don't look so skeptical, it's true. First of all, it's all legal. All the women have a license, are examined once a month, and pay their taxes.
We're sitting in the warmth and don't have to wait outside in the freezing cold for clients. But most importantly, it's relatively safe. We don't have pimps, but rather a private security service.
Secondly, it's easier for the clients because we have a flat rate, and they don't have to pay for another dirty hourly hotel.
"Hmm, I haven't looked at it from that perspective yet."
"There are long lists of whores on Herbertstrasse who also want to work there. And get rid of your stereotypical thinking. What about poor women being forced into it? There are certainly plenty of them, but most of us do it for the money. At least I do, and because I want to fuck. Yes, it's that simple."
"But isn't it super gross to jump into bed with such a fat ass?"
"Of course it is. But what job is always fun? Besides, you don't have to take just anyone. That's certainly the biggest difference compared to women who have to work on the streets and then hand over their money to their pimps."
"But... um, why do you actually work as a prostitute? I mean, you're an intelligent woman?"
"Oh God, you mean why am I not sitting in an office somewhere as a secretary?"
"Yes, something like that."
"No, never mind. I don't feel like it. You'll laugh, but I actually trained as a freight forwarding clerk, but then quickly realized that wasn't my thing. Besides, I just like sex. Well, it's true. I had a few relationships, but no man could give me what I wanted: at least twice a day. Call me a nymphomaniac, which I guess I am, but I can't help it. And then a friend of mine who was working as a prostitute on Herbertstrasse asked me if I'd like to take her place because she wanted to quit. Yes, that was five years ago, and I've been doing it ever since."
"So, what do you want to do later?"
"You mean when I'm too old to get a suitor?"
I nodded timidly.
Susanne laughed.
"There's no need to be embarrassed, your biological clock is ticking too. I'm going to work as a prostitute for another three years and then off to Crete. I've already bought the house."
»Crete?«
"Hmm, yes, my dream island. I'll open a cute little restaurant there to take the tourists' money."
Susanne laughed. It was a pleasant, open laugh, just as the whole woman was very pleasant.
"And when it opens, you'll come visit me."
I had to grin.
"Yeah, I'll do it, with my dream prince."
"With pleasure, there will always be a bed ready for you to sleep in."
That, however, was never to happen. Two weeks later, Susanne's body was found in her back room on Herbertstrasse, stabbed to death by a crazed client who had taken too much speed that evening.
The doorbell rang. Awake, but still sleepy, I turned to the alarm clock: 1:00 PM. I waited another minute until it rang again.
"Yes, yes, I'm coming!"
Grumbling, I got up from my warm, cozy bed. Wearing only my H&M shorts, I went to open the door. Corinna was standing there, and a thousand words bombarded me at once. Without responding, I turned around and went into the kitchen.
"Corinna, come in, close the door and sit down."
She followed me, sat down on a chair at our kitchen table and looked at me.
“Would you like a coffee too?” I asked her.
"Gladly."
I took two pods out of the cupboard and put them in my newest acquisition, a Senseo coffee machine. I had treated myself to it three days ago because I found it incredibly practical. Jo and Shokki once again ranted about it, saying it would create even more trash and waste resources. But that didn't stop them from using it.
I put the two cups of coffee on the table.
Corinna took one and sipped from the cup.
"Thanks. Hmm, that's good."
"And Corinna? What's so important that you wake me up in the middle of the night?"
She grinned at me.
"Ah, Axel. I would have liked to study too, just to sleep in when I don't feel like going to university, wonderful."
I had to smile. I had already registered, but only for the next semester. After graduating, I just wanted to take a break. Do nothing for a year. Think about what I really wanted, just not start cramming endlessly again. My parents financed my apartment, and I made up the rest of the money by working at a gas station.
"Is that why you're here?"
"Oh no, it's because of Tom."
"Because of Tom? Did he do something?"
"Tom? Nonsense, you know him. It's more about what he didn't do."
»Corinna?«
»And?«
"I, Axel, am a man. You, Corinna, are a woman. A woman may not speak to a man in riddles."
Corinna, please forgive me.
"Funny. My husband always says that, too."
"And? Is he right?"
"When is a man ever right?"
Now I had to laugh.
"So what about Tom?"
Instead of answering, she reached into her backpack and pulled out a magazine, which she placed on the table. "Hinnerk," better known in Hamburg as the city's gay newspaper.
"Hmm. Don't you think he'll miss it?"
"Oh, there are dozens of them in his nightstand."
"So you're snooping on Tom?"
I couldn't suppress a smug grin.
Corinna blushed slightly.
"No! Of course not. But I have to know what's going on with my boy. He hardly talks to me anymore. Oh shit. Have I really failed so badly as a mother? Oh Axel, we're really tolerant now, and Tom could have come to us with it. As if we'd made a fuss about him being gay. Definitely not."
"I know, Corinna. But have you ever considered that Tom has to understand it himself first, and more importantly, accept it?"
Corinna looked at me helplessly.
"Tom is 17. He should know by then, right? I mean, you started at 15? Right?"
"Right. But Tom isn't Axel, and Axel isn't Tom. It's not exactly easy for a gay man to accept that. Some take months, for others, like me, it takes days. And still others don't realize it until they're 30, when they're married and have two children. Although "realize" might be the wrong word, "accept" is probably the more accurate one."
"But he could have talked to us about it?"
"So? What would you have answered his question: How do you know you're gay?"
"Hmm. Maybe I know what you mean. It's just so... hard. You understand? You look after him for 17 years and suddenly, from one day to the next, there's nothing you can do."
»Axel?«
"And, Corinna?"
"Couldn't you talk to him? I mean, like…"
"Gay to gay?"
"Yes, something like that. Or rather, from friend to friend?"
"Corinna! You don't want to set us up, do you?..."
She blinked her eyes.
"Oh... Axel. What are you thinking? Although, I could certainly imagine you as a son-in-law."
"Thanks. I'll talk to Tom, okay?"
She got up from her chair and hugged me so tightly that I could hardly breathe.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I met Tom two days later, on a Friday, in the stairwell.
I had just come from Felix's, my bike on my shoulder, and I unlocked the front door.
In one hand my front door key, in the other grabbing the bike by the frame,
I came through the door. The front wheel turned sideways, so I was wedged between the door and the wall. Tom came towards me and smiled.
"Well, do you need help?"
"Yes, this stallion here," I pointed to my bike, "is being stubborn again."
"Men, that's all."
We both had to grin. Tom took the bike from me so I could empty our mailbox. Most of it was for Jo. Various organizations were writing to him—and there were many. I overtook Tom on the stairs so I could open our apartment door.
Tom put my bike in the hallway and I threw the mail on the kitchen table.
»Tom?«
»And?«
"Do you have any plans today?"
"Hmm. Not really. I wanted to rent some DVDs. Nothing else."
"Don't you feel like staying here? Listen to music or something? I still have a bottle of vodka here, and nothing planned either."
I usually work at the gas station on Fridays, but today the boss wanted to train a new employee. And I actually liked it, too; the money should be enough to keep me from starving, so I agreed.
Tom looked down.
"Hey, I just mopped, the floor is clean, don't worry. Nothing's going to jump out at you."
He had to laugh. That was the first time I'd ever seen him really laugh. His eyes practically sparkled. I felt him grow a little. Not in terms of size, but in his charisma.
"You mean... um, you're inviting me?"
"If you want to put it that way? Sure, and would you like to?"
His eyes now reminded me of a fawn, completely intimidated. As if it had just crossed a road and was now standing in front of a car's blinding headlights. Not knowing where to run, frozen with fear, Tom stood before me.
It only took a few seconds for him to recover.
"I don't know. Surely you have better things to do?"
"As what?"
"Well, wanting to deal with me?"
"Nope! I didn't! So what?"
Still uncertain, Tom stared from one wall to the other.
"Yeah, okay, why not?"
I offered him a seat on my bed—or rather, mattress. His gaze wandered around the room and settled on a book on my table.
"Hey, I have that too."
"And what do you think?"
The book in question was "The Center of the World" by Andreas Steinhöfel.
"Hmm, okay. Not bad, but it didn't exactly blow me away. But why do you read stuff like that?"
I was once again on my oh-so-long line. In the past, it could probably have connected Europe to the USA.
"Huh? Why shouldn't I read this?"
"Well, because it's a gay novel?"
I finally understood. Tom had no idea I was gay. Why did I always assume the whole world knew I was gay? Something similar had already happened with Susanne.
"Tom! I'm gay."
"Ugh! I wouldn't have thought so. I mean, you don't look like a gay guy, you don't act like one—oh, I don't know."
"Fucking stereotypes. I probably behave the same way as 90% of other gay people. How many gay people do you know?"
"Actually, just one."
Tom blushed. Sweet!
"Aha, and who else?"
“My friend?” Tom explained shyly.
Now I was shocked. Tom had a boyfriend? Why had I never seen him before?
"Your friend?"
"Yup. Someone from my class. A really sweet little cuddly toy."
The way Tom said that and his eyes sparkled, I felt a little jealous.
"Then why don't you ever bring him?"
"You mean like my brother, when we have the house to ourselves?"
»Yes.«
»Angelo usually has to work at the gas station until midnight, and after that he's often too exhausted.«
"Angelo? Angelo? Not the Angelo from my gas station? That hotcake? Oh, man."
"Which gas station do you work at? Esso?"
I just nodded briefly. Angelo, by far the hottest guy in our group. It was obvious that someone like that already had a boyfriend.
"Oh, so you're the Axel who sometimes replaces him?"
"That's him. How long have you been together?"
"Half a year."
"That long? And why don't I hear about this? Damn."
"You're just stealing him from me anyway," Tom giggled.
"But you never took him home, right?"
"Hmm, yes, that's right."
"Why not?"
"I don't think my mother would like that."
"What makes you think that?"
"Well, I can see how her eyes light up when my brother brings home a new girl, and what if I show up with a guy? I don't know?"
I had to laugh. My God, this world is so complicated.
"Hey! Why are you laughing? I don't find this funny at all."
»Worth it.«
I went into the kitchen to get the Hinnerk.
"Here, this is yours."
"Now I don't understand anything anymore."
"So Corinna knows you're gay."
"How? Where did that come from?"
I waved the Hinnerk around in my hand.
"She found it with me, right?"
"Yup. She did."
"So how did you come to that conclusion?"
I told him everything about Corinna's performance and his face lit up more and more.
"You mean she's perfectly fine with it?"
"Sure! She just had problems with the fact that you haven't found one yet at your age."
"Umph. Wow, that's cool."
"So, I think you have something to tell your mother!"
"Yeah, I think so too. Thanks!"
"No problem, you're welcome. And if you're ever single, you know where I live."
Tom grinned and winked at me goodbye.
Over the next few days, I rarely showed up at the shared apartment. I spent most of my time with Felix. I was only there when I had laundry to do or when Felix had picked up someone and wanted to be alone. That was no different on this day.
I unlocked the door to our shared apartment and discovered Shokki at the dining table in the kitchen.
»Hey Shokki, is Jo there?«
Shokki was eating a piece of bread and nodded.
"Before!"
Shokki seemed to want to say something else, but all I heard from him was a cough and a croak as I made my way to Jo's room. Without knocking, I opened the door. Jo was lying stark naked on his bed—and a red-haired woman was sitting on him.
Shit! Pippi Longstocking is riding my Jo right now! Her face was turned toward me, luckily with her eyes closed. Her misshapen tits slapped against her chest, and she screamed, "Yeah, good, my stallion!"
My jaw dropped and I quietly closed the door.
I took the almost full bottle of licorice schnapps out of the fridge and took a big swig from the bottle, then sat down next to Shokki.
"What the hell was that?"
"This, my dear Axel, is Jo's new friend Doris."
"Who, please?"
"Doris. Should I spell it for you?"
»Doris?«
I took another generous sip from the bottle.
"How old is this Doris?"
"Around 40."
Sniffle. Gurgling. Damn liquor.
"Oh my God, that old already?"
"Yeah, and? She's nice and she suits Jo. Aren't you happy for Jo?"
"How long has this been going on?"
»3 Months.«
"What, so long? And why am I only finding out about this now?"
"When were you last here? You were with Felix most of the time."
"Hello! Am I an alien? Are you crazy or something? I'm your friend! I should know something like that!"
"Why? You don't care anyway."
I take a sip from the bottle.
"You're not serious, are you? Hey, you're my friends, what makes you come up with shit like that?"
At that moment, the door to Jo's bedroom opened, and Pippi stepped out, wearing bright green leggings and a hand-knitted rainbow-colored sweater.
Her red hair contrasted with this styling.
“Hello,” Pippi greeted us.
"Hello Pippi!" I replied. Already a little drunk, I no longer paid attention to these "new greeting rituals" and babbled on cheerfully:
"Okay, got off your horse?"
She looked at me in surprise.
"Excuse me? Who are you talking about, boy? And who is Pippi? Maybe you should cut down on your drinking?"
I took another sip from the bottle, looked at her, and started giggling.
Pippi looked down at me and addressed Shokki:
"Who the hell is that? Another ignorant person?"
I answered her:
"No, Pippi, a roommate and friend of the house."
I didn't like her from the start. The look she gave me was that typical "Oh boy, what do you want?" look. I hated her for it, and I became nasty.
"And you?" I said to her, "so you want to compete with Robin Hood? You already have the makeup for it."
Instead of answering, she just looked at me.
"Sleep off your hangover, and then we'll see."
But I thought I could handle more, so I just smiled at her.
Another sip from the bottle. I now saw two Peppis in front of me, but no matter.
I heard Jo, and I jumped for him. Why? I don't know? I wanted to get rid of Pippi! Quickly! Very quickly. I was hoping for Jo.
But then he took Pippi in his arms.
"Axel, this is Doris! My new girlfriend!"
I reached for the bottle and took another sip, looking up into Jo's eyes.
"My God, Jo, Doris should fuck her Gerhardt, but not you!"
Jo didn't find that particularly funny and slapped me. The blow landed, leaving my lip bloody. My teeth felt spongy, and I looked up into Jo's face. He stood there, motionless, ready to give me another slap. My friend Jo slaps me! Me?
It wasn't the pain that hurt, but rather Jo, my friend, and the realization that we were no longer friends. That hurt more.
“Wanker!” I yelled at Jo.
"Oh yeah, and you? A jealous little chick? You can go to hell."
The fist that hit him was hard, and it came from me. He'd better see a dentist tomorrow.
"So much for Tucke, asshole!"
I turned around and went to my room, locked the door, and went to bed. I couldn't sleep; I had to think. What now?
No more friends! I had to get out of here, and all because of Pippi! I hated that woman! I hated her! That bitch!
The next morning was horrible. My head buzzed like a swarm of bees, and they must have left their sticky, rancid honey in my mouth. I felt my chapped lip. It hurt.
Everything hurt, especially the lump in my stomach. This shitty feeling of having lost everything. I was thirsty.
This disgusting person named Pippi, er, Doris, came towards me at the fridge and started ranting straight away.
"You broke Jo's tooth!"
Blah, blah, blah. I took a Coke from the fridge and drank it.
Doris looked at me in disgust.
"You drink this stuff?"
I turned to her and burst out laughing. This woman looked so stupid in her clothes. Starting with the ball of wool she was wearing, she ended with sweatpants and strange flip-flops. But it was especially the color combination that made it look so grotesque. Everything was super washed out with indefinable colors.
At that moment, Shokki joined us and hugged Doris from behind, giving her a kiss on the neck. My stomach lurched.
I looked at Shokki and asked him:
"Are you guys having a threesome now or what?"
Instead of Shokki, Doris answered:
"In a commune, everyone loves each other."
Würg.
I left them both standing there without saying a word and went to my room to pack my things.
Once I had finished packing, I called Felix and asked him to pick me up in his car.
We hauled the things—it wasn't that much anyway—to his car (I took my coffee maker with me, of course) and drove off. I didn't say goodbye to Jo or Shokki. I just wanted to get out of there. On the way, I told Felix what had happened.
"Wow!" was his only response. And, of course, that I could live with him for a while.
Three days had passed since then. Neither I nor anyone in the shared flat had contacted the other.
Felix and I went shopping on Mönckebergstrasse. It wasn't really my price range, but you could still have a look. We passed the town hall and saw a crowd. Curious as we were, we went to the town hall square. Crowds of people were lined up behind barriers, and we looked at each other questioningly until Felix finally said:
"The Queen is coming today."
"Oh yes, there was something."
Felix looked at me and grinned broadly:
"And Wallice."
"Then let's see if it looks as good in real life," I grinned back.
A few little girls next to us were waving little flags. How sweet, even though they were probably only here for Wallice.
People crowded closer and closer together to see the English.
I couldn't see exactly how they arrived; there were too many people in front of us. But we could hear them. A murmur went through the crowd.
The mayor was waiting on the steps of the town hall. I wonder if the Queen knows he's gay? Hmm.
Some bodyguards were the first to pass us and stood next to the stairs.
We finally made some progress, until we reached the barrier. The girls screamed deafeningly. Wallice came straight over to us to shake our hands. Yes, the TV pictures weren't lying; the prince really was damn good-looking. Too good. I was surprised to see him looking straight at me and smiling shyly. Damn, he's cute. The girls screamed more and more loudly, but the prince didn't seem to mind. His eyes were still fixed on me with that shy smile, and suddenly I felt his hand in mine. He held it for a long time... Too long, in my opinion.
I looked him straight in the eyes, and then I felt this explosion. Unfortunately, it wasn't caused by chemical reactions inside my body, but outside.
The explosion shattered the windows of the town hall. The shards flew into the crowd with such force that it was almost impossible to avoid them. I saw a bodyguard collapse when a shard hit him in the neck. A woman, who appeared to be a royal, also fell to the street with a scream, covered in blood; she seemed to have been hit with full force. Suddenly there was blood everywhere. People screamed in panic and scattered. I felt as if I were wrapped in cotton wool. I saw people screaming, but their voices didn't reach my ears. I had only one thought: Get to safety!
And so I ran away. Felix, next to me, yelled at me and pointed behind me. I just nodded at him, not understanding his words. He pointed behind me more and more vigorously until I turned around. With my left hand, I pulled the prince along. Oh shit!
I felt the warmth of that hand and looked more closely. Blood was running down it, dripping in thin threads from Wallice's hand. He must have been injured by the explosion.
That was probably the moment my brain completely shut down. Without thinking about the consequences, I squeezed Wallice's hand even tighter and pulled him along. Away from here and to safety – to Felix.
Impressions
(Wallice)
I felt like I was going to faint. A thousand thoughts raced through my head as this boy dragged me further and further behind him. What had happened to my father, to Peter? What had even happened?
I lost all sense of space and time, didn't know where I was. Gradually, the crowd dwindled, the noise of panic quieted. I turned around and saw the cloud of smoke from the fire in the town hall. I wanted to go back to Peter, to my father, but the boy wouldn't let go. With unabated speed, he dragged me away from the scene.
I don't remember how long or how far we ran. At some point, the boy stopped, panting. Only then did I realize we weren't alone. A second boy was standing next to us, panting so hard he had to support himself with his hands on his knees. He looked up at me, and despite all the hustle and bustle, I saw a pair of beautiful eyes.
I slowly came to. From the street we had arrived on, there was no longer a view of the town hall, and it was completely quiet. Almost as if nothing had happened.
Then I turned around and looked for the first time at the boy who had dragged me away—and perhaps saved my life.
Tall, slim, pretty face. And beautiful eyes too. And those lips...
I finally pulled my hand out of his.
"I want to go back," I said, and at that moment I remembered I was in Germany. I understood German quite well, but talking... that wasn't my thing. The boy I had just let go of looked at me.
"Then go back."
I stared at him because he said it so beautifully. His English was accent-free.
"Come on, we don't want to hold you. Go back and let them kill you. They're waiting for you. You were the target of the attack, I assume. The future king. They'll try to blow you up a second time."
I stood there rooted to the spot, not having had time to think about why all this had happened. Fear rose, real fear. What if this strange boy was right? There were terrorists all over the world, and as I already suspected, no one was safe from them.
I looked into the boy's eyes, and I don't know what suddenly happened. Suddenly, I didn't want to go back. It was like a compulsion to stay with them both. I looked at them alternately. Each one was as beautiful as the other.
"Why did you do that? Why did you bring me here?" I asked after a while.
The boy looked at me and shrugged his shoulders.
"I don't know it."
We stood there undecided until we heard police and fire sirens.
"Either you go back now or you come with me. But you don't have much time left to decide."
At that moment, I didn't know anything. Everything was spinning around in my head, and the most important things were my grandma, my father, and Peter.
"Man, Wallice, what now?"
The boy became nervous. But why? He hadn't done anything except probably save my life.
The other unlocked the front door in front of which we were standing, and my savior followed him.
They stood in the doorway and looked at me. I thought for a second, then followed them into the gloomy hallway.
When I reached the fifth floor, I felt sweat pouring down my entire body. It felt like I was sitting in a bathtub. I immediately unbuttoned my suit jacket and threw it over the back of the chair, then loosened my tie and unbuttoned my vest.
"Yeah, yeah," grinned my savior, "go ahead and take your clothes off..."
"Axel..." the other boy admonished him.
Without asking, I collapsed into the chair. I was simply exhausted.
I didn't know what kind of liquor my savior gave me, but I felt a little better afterward.
"By the way, my name is Axel, this is my friend Felix."
I stared at the two of them. Introducing myself was certainly unnecessary, but I did it anyway. I stood up and shook their hands.
"Wallice, Prince of..."
"...we know," Axel interrupted with a broad grin.
He held my hand and looked at it.
"You got a splinter. Wait, I'll get a magnifying glass and tweezers," he said, and disappeared into the bathroom.
Only now did I take a closer look at the room. It was beautifully and simply furnished. A little messy here and there, but that didn't bother me. On the contrary, I would love to have something flying around my place.
Axel took my hand and held it towards the window.
"Come closer, I have to find the shard," he said.
He took my hand, and I watched his beautiful fingers as he gently worked on the wound. It wasn't large, it didn't hurt much, and the splinter was probably only a few millimeters across.
Axel finally pulled out the glass splinter with tweezers.
"There we have him."
He put another plaster on the wound.
Somehow the two of them stayed at a certain distance from me and kept looking at me.
"You know who we have in this room," I heard Felix whisper to Axel.
Axel stared at me.
"Yes, but I can't grasp it."
"What do we do now? If they find us, we'll go to jail for kidnapping. It might not be so bad, but Prince Wallice of all people..." Felix continued.
"If they know he's here, an army will march in. They'll shoot us like rabbits."
"Slowly. How would they know? And Wallice... is actually here voluntarily."
He looked over at me questioningly.
The radio was on and after listening for a while, Axel said:
"A Sonja von Altstetten must have been hit. She was very close to the bomb... No one else was hurt. But they're looking for you like crazy..."
I swallowed, afraid to ask. Sonja? I glanced briefly at the ceiling.
Nothing had happened to anyone; that was all I wanted to hear. That Sonja... well, I wasn't sad. I didn't care what Peter was going through now. Although I don't usually think like that, her death hadn't exactly affected me. Without really wanting to, I was thankful that it had happened to her and not my father, Peter, or me.
Now I was sitting there in the armchair, in front of two complete strangers, feeling quite lost. I couldn't stay here; they would find me, eventually, and then it would be these two boys' turn. And I didn't want that. Steven popped into my thoughts. I wonder what he was thinking? The whole of England was probably already going crazy because of me.
And suddenly, my body began to tingle. It was pleasant, almost frighteningly pleasant. For the first time in my life, I was independent. No one there to regulate me, no etiquette, no work schedule... Nothing. Freedom.
"Hey, you're grinning all of a sudden," said Axel.
"Yes, there's a reason for that. I don't want to go back for now."
The two boys looked at each other, then at me.
"Aha. Where did this insight come from?"
I got up and ran to the window. Down there, I could see blue lights flashing; the city seemed to be in a state of emergency.
"I think I have a little freedom here—and I want to keep it for a while."
"Felix and I will pay for this freedom with jail if you're found here."
"No, I wasn't brought here by force. Don't worry about it."
I probably didn't really calm her down, but somehow I suddenly didn't care. A few days here, why not? And their company was anything but unpleasant for me.
"So you really want to stay here?" asked Axel.
"For now, yes, if you don't mind."
"Fine, then I'll go shopping now, we don't have anything left in the house."
I would have liked to give Felix money for it, but I didn't have a single pound note with me.
Shortly afterward, Axel and I were alone in the apartment. My emotions fluctuated. Everything was so new, so completely unfamiliar.
The television was on, and practically every station interrupted their programs with news of my disappearance. I saw Grandma, Dad, and even Peter briefly. Seeing them unharmed calmed me. They must have put a blanket over Sonja. I just didn't know how to deal with it. That evening with her and Peter was too vivid in my mind. I had wished all sorts of things on her... and now?
Should I contact them? Just them? Tell them I was okay? Yes, I had to do that; I owed it to them.
"Hello Dad. I'm fine, nothing's wrong. I haven't been kidnapped either, I'm still in town, but I can't come back to you right now. I'll be in touch again. Best wishes to Grandma and Peter."
I didn't write anything else in the text message.
Then my cell phone rang.
"Yes, Dad, it's me."
"What's going on? Where are you?"
"Safe. I'm fine, believe me."
A long break.
"Wallice... are you really okay?"
"Yes, Dad, very good. Please don't look for me, it's my free choice."
"Man. Boy, that's not possible."
"Yes, Dad, for a while. Think of something, I'll get back to you."
Then I hung up.
Suddenly Axel stood very close to me and looked at me.
"You'll still be leaving soon, you have no other choice."
I nodded.
"And what do you mean by that?"
He looked down embarrassed.
"We will never see each other again, not in our entire lives."
"Yes, possible."
"May I grant one wish? A single one? And only once?"
I shrugged. What kind of wish could that be?
"If I can grant it, you'll even have three wishes... You saved my life."
He reached out a hand to me and suddenly touched my face. He gently stroked my cheeks with his beautiful fingers. A shiver ran through my body. And then the look into those eyes. Axel was damn handsome, I realized that in those seconds.
Very slowly, he brought his head closer, closed his eyes, and... then he kissed me on the mouth. Maybe for a second, maybe less. His lips were so soft, so warm, and yet I still got goosebumps. They covered my body from the tips of my hair to my toenails. My goodness, what a feeling...
"Sorry," he said, quickly taking two steps back.
"I... didn't mean to... but... it was my wish."
I didn't know what to say. I must have stood there as if cast in concrete.
Axel turned to the window.
"I'm sorry, really, but you... you're kind of an idol to me. Whenever I see you in magazines or on TV, I always think I'd love to kiss you. It was a dream that could never have come true."
He turned back to me.
"And actually, I can't believe it. Thank you for that."
So Axel was just as gay as I was. I walked up to him and grabbed his arms. At that moment, I didn't care about anything. Despite the sirens down there, all the panic flickering on the screen... I suddenly sank down. Down into a deep, calm silence.
Axel looked at me in disbelief.
"Is something wrong? I apologized."
It was lovely how he said that. His voice...
"What you just did was beautiful."
Axel's gaze was indescribable, his eyes became as big as those of an owl.
»Was?«
"I know my German is bad..."
He stood there and looked at me like an alien.
"What did you just say?"
»That my German is bad...«
"No, before..."
He embarrassed me, especially since I hadn't thought those words through very carefully.
But I didn't want to say it again. I pulled him toward me and took him in my arms, hugging him tightly.
I heard the door open and someone come into the room, but I just couldn't let go of Axel.
"Oh shit," was all I heard, and it was Felix's voice.
Axel
-
Fears
Felix stood in the room, staring at us with wide eyes. I didn't know what to say to him, so all I could do was grin stupidly.
Something like, "It's not what it looks like, Felix," would have sounded pretty stupid. Wallice was standing next to me and seemed just as unsure as I was. It was cute how he stood there, looking at me and then back at Felix. Unsure of how the situation would develop. The prince was simply adorable. "Prince," yes, prince! I had to drum it into my brain that he was a prince. So far, he seemed more like... well, what? Like a big boy who lives in my neighborhood? Someone I'd like to fuck? Or more? Someone I could start a relationship with? Finally? And the prince, of all people? Shit!
I was the first to rediscover my vocabulary:
"Felix, we have a little problem!"
"Small? Small, is that what you call something? What's a big problem for you? Felix: I fucked an alien?"
"Hmm. Yeah, that would be a bigger problem. How do you fuck an alien?"
Felix started to laugh.
"You're such a shit, Axel!"
"I know."
Wallice enjoyed his time with us. The longer he was here, the more he thawed out. He quickly put aside his conservative ways. He turned out to be a super pleasant conversationalist and a very funny friend. It didn't take Felix long to warm up to him. The two liked each other. Even though I secretly suspected Felix was a little jealous. But he didn't let it show.
Another thing bothered me much more. Wallice's cell phone! It's not really a big problem to track cell phones. I was all the more surprised that no SEK task force had visited our apartment yet. Wallice's father probably had his hands on it. Why? I could only speculate. Maybe he was simply giving his son a break. Or, and this probably got to the heart of the matter, he was glad Wallice was out of the line of fire.
The media only reported that Wallice had landed safely in England and cited old archive footage. There were only suspicions as to who might have been behind the attack. They ranged from al-Qaeda to the IRA.
Well, in any case, it was clear that we were under surveillance. The Federal Criminal Police Office (BKA) was milling around in front of, or probably already inside, the building. They were truly inconspicuous—too inconspicuous. The Passat parked in front of our apartment building, alternating with an Audi every six hours, was very conspicuously inconspicuous.
On the second day after Wallice "moved in" with us, I went to get some rolls. I bought multigrain and sunflower seed rolls, as well as four half-rolls with turkey and cheese.
I packed the unbuttered rolls in my backpack, took the sandwiches in my right hand, and carried them in front of me like a tray. I trundled straight toward the Audi.
I knocked on the side window and it whirred down.
“Excuse me?” came from the person who had made himself comfortable in the passenger seat.
"I thought our bodyguards could use something to eat?"
The person addressed looked at me and then started to grin:
"Gladly! Sit in the back!"
»Okay!«
I sat on the back seat of the Audi and gave them the sandwiches.
“Now that’s what I call service!” grinned the driver.
"And since when have you been shadowing us?"
"Hmm. Since the beginning," replied the man in the passenger seat.
"The phone?"
"Not only that. Our English colleagues, of course, have packed the prince with tracking devices. Just like we do with our politicians. Completely normal," and took a bite of the roll.
"Hmm, that's good. More of this tomorrow, please, James!"
The two laughed.
"And which agency are you from? BND? Federal Office for the Protection of the Constitution? Federal Criminal Police Office?"
"Pick your pick. It doesn't matter. Does the queen even know her grandson is gay?"
The two burst out laughing.
"Ha, ha, jokers!"
"Okay. Jokes aside. You have a problem."
The two of them now looked at me seriously.
"Oh what?"
Just one problem? I could think of thousands!
"My name is Olaf," the driver's seat stool said to me.
"And I'm Ole," his counterpart grinned at me.
"People call me Lisa. Or Axel."
"Okay, enough of the fun. Here, Axel, here's a tracking device, and we want you to wear it day and night."
Olaf gave me a small device, the size of an SD card. I took it and examined it.
"Axel, put it in your wallet or somewhere else, just carry it with you at all times. Do you see the little button on it?"
I looked at the thing and actually there was such a thing.
»Yes.«
"Good! Press it if you're in immediate danger. Only then, and we'll be there immediately! Do you hear?"
"What happens if I press it?"
"This is our signal to storm the room, wherever you are. So use it only in an emergency!"
"Understood! You hear everything?"
"With you? Yeah, right!"
»Okay!«
I got out of the car and felt a slight urge to vomit. They knew everything! Everything!
They knew about the first night with Wallice, how we had sex, what we talked about. That first night was so beautiful. So cuddly and so letting go, like I'd never experienced before in my life. And that others had witnessed that first night, that was unacceptable!
I felt hurt, betrayed, excluded from this system.
As I made my way back to Felix, I racked my brain. Wallice! Are we committed? Can you answer that question after just two days? And if so, what then? I already knew that one day he would have to return to England. Would that be the end of our relationship, or would he continue on and hide? A lifetime of playing cat and mouse with the public? I couldn't handle that. Not for a minute. Should I perhaps end the relationship before it had really begun?
As I opened the apartment door, the two of them came towards me.
"Where have you been for so long?" Felix asked with a worried expression.
"I had a quick romp in the park."
"What? Just one? You're getting old, too."
That put the issue off the table.
Wallice, who was standing next to Felix, just looked at us in bewilderment. His German wasn't good enough to understand properly, which was fine with me.
We had a hearty breakfast and talked about what we would do today.
"Well, I'd like to go for a little walk. Along the Alster. So, what's it like?"
Felix looked at me with his typical "how many pills did you swallow?" look and then just said:
"But everything else is okay?"
"What? Why? The sun's shining outside, we'll give Wallice sunglasses and a cap, and then with my clothes on, no one will notice."
I could literally hear Felix's brain rattling until he finally said:
"Hmm. Okay. Why not? He's not supposed to be in Hamburg anyway."
"May I perhaps say something?"
Oops. The main character hasn't even been asked yet. So far, the conversation has only been between me and Felix.
"So? Do you feel like it?"
Wallice literally beamed and answered my question in the affirmative.
It turned out to be a beautiful afternoon. The sun shone down on us, and I perked up a little. For a short time, I was able to forget my fears and simply enjoy myself.
The people of Hamburg actually didn't pay much attention to us, even when I walked hand in hand with Wallice. He was a little irritated at first, but I explained to him that the people of Hamburg were used to it and that it was perfectly normal.
We strolled around the Inner Alster Lake, bought ice cream, and joked around. Wallice clearly enjoyed taking a stroll incognito for once. Without bodyguards and all that nonsense. Well, of course we had our bodyguards. But they stayed in the background, and why should I tell him?
In the evening, Felix got us sushi and we played a little cards. The atmosphere was very relaxed and easygoing until the doorbell rang.
Felix went to open the door. From the living room, we couldn't see who was at the door. But we could hear it. A scream and a loud bang. Wallice looked at me with a startled expression, and mine was probably no less surprised. Hadn't Wallice's bodyguards already come for him to be shipped to England?
Felix flew into the living room—and that wasn't an exaggeration. A little further, and he would have landed on the table. Wallice and I jumped up, only to take a step back. We looked down the barrel of a gun pointed at us.
A complete stranger stood in the doorway, aiming at us. I held my breath. My brain switched to generator mode, or rather, emergency power, because I couldn't make sense of this absurd snapshot. I heard a command in a language I didn't recognize. I guessed Gaelic. Irish Gaelic.
This man looked at us with a hateful expression and took two steps toward us. He simply yelled:
"Sit down!"
In English. I don't think I've ever sat down so quickly in my entire life as I did in that moment. Shit. My heart was pounding, I couldn't think straight, and all I could see was that asshole with his gun pointed at us.
Felix lay curled up on the ground, looking like misery itself. Blood was running from a laceration on his head. He didn't look up, his two hands protectively above his head, lying there in a fetal position.
Two more people stumbled into the living room.
Jo and Shokki! I was surprised to see them both here. They looked at me and seemed very scared.
Another guy entered the room with a gun and stood in front of the two. Jo and Shokki sat cross-legged next to Felix, their hands on the back of their heads.
Then those assholes saw Wallice. One shouted something in Gaelic, and a woman appeared.
Pippi!
This stupid cow strutted triumphantly into the room and stood in front of us.
Like the other two assholes, she had a gun in her hand.
However, she no longer looked as eco-girl as I had when I first met her. She was wearing jeans and a black turtleneck. She was also wearing sneakers, and her hair was different, too. She seemed tougher to me.
"Well, look who we have here? The royal wart himself with my friend. We've made a really good catch. So all this child-fucking has paid off after all," the stupid cow chuckled, looking at Jo and Shokki.
"O'Raelly! I thought you were dead?" Wallice said.
"Oh, Prince, I'll save that for later. But it's nice of you to join me. It just raises the stakes, and you know I like to play."
"Wallice? You know her?"
I was amazed.
"Yes, unfortunately, every child in England knows that bastard."
"Oh, Prince, are we getting abusive now? Tsk, tsk."
Wallice fuhr fort:
"Cathy O'Raelly was once a Sinn Fein MP. Until she couldn't take it anymore and carried out attacks against us in the name of the IRA."
Wallice looked at her with fury, a look I'd never seen before. His neck veins bulged, and his face grew redder and redder.
"This terrorist killed 32 people, five of whom were under 15 years old. This was her work. We had actually hoped to have killed her in one operation, but I see that wasn't the case."
Wallice practically spat the words at her.
»Terrorist? Terrorist?«
Pippi also turned red and shouted at Wallice:
"We, the IRA, are freedom fighters! We are fighting against a monarchy that occupies parts of our country. If Hitler had occupied England back then and you were fighting against the Nazis, would you also be a terrorist?"
Wallice shook his head and then said:
"That's bullshit. This isn't about a monarchy or a Nazi regime; it's about Protestants versus Catholics, that's the problem. And my grandmother is the head of the Anglican Church. Because the Protestants were massacred by the Catholics back in the Middle Ages, she became their head and thus their protector. You know that perfectly well, O'Raelly."
"Yes, and thus our enemy. If you hadn't taken over Northern Ireland, it wouldn't have come to this."
"Northern Ireland has always belonged to the Protestants, you know that. Sure, we made mistakes by tying Northern Ireland to England. But did we ever have any other option?"
"Yes. You did! We wanted peace. We granted Protestants the right to live in Northern Ireland. But what happened? More and more came, more and more land was taken from us. What would you have done in our place? Tell me! What?"
Wallice looked at the ground.
"I don't know. Probably negotiated a compromise? As I said, we made mistakes. But in the 21st century, surely it should be possible to overcome them?"
"No. Never! Ireland is a free country and will fight until it wins."
"Ireland is free! Only you aren't. You're still in the last millennium, the people no longer support you, the only thing you want is terror."
"These fools, brain-eaten on ale, only we, the IRA, know what our people need. Our tradition and Irish thinking."
"Hitler wanted that too."
"Enough now! You five go into the kitchen, sit down there, and I won't hear another sound, otherwise..." Pippi looked at the two gorillas waving their guns around.
We then walked in single file into the kitchen, with the two IRA gorillas behind us.
They signaled for us to sit down on the floor. We sat close together. One of the assholes grabbed the drawer containing the cutlery and took it out, bringing it into the living room. Yeah, it was clear, knives and hostages didn't mix well.
We weren't restrained; they probably didn't think it was necessary. Essentially, they saw us as teenagers who couldn't really be dangerous. They were right. We were even allowed to talk to each other. My first question was directed at Jo:
"What happened?"
"Shit, Axel! Just total, impenetrable bullshit! I fell in love with Doris—or rather, Cathy. It was like brainwashing what she did to us. She talked about a great community, the three of us, but she took you, Axel, out of it right from the start. I knew you wouldn't like her. But I loved her. Oh shit! She watched TV with us, and then those pictures of the fox hunt and Wallice came on, and everything boiled over inside me. All my anger. Against this injustice in this world, why do children still have to starve? And others. Us! Live in wealth and throw away things that are so desperately needed elsewhere? And then Doris/Cathy came along and focused everything on the English royal family. I was already working for fire extinguisher manufacturers back then, remember?"
»Yes.«
Jo worked in the shop where fire extinguishers were tested and serviced.
"Well, it was easy for me to swap the fire extinguishers at City Hall for ours."
Suddenly I was wide awake. My brain switched from emergency power generator to normal operation.
"What do you mean? You carried out the bombing?"
"Yes and no. Doris/Cathy gave me the new fire extinguishers to trade in. But I didn't know they contained syntax."
"Yeah, hello? How stupid are you guys? Didn't you even ask when that Pippi girl brought you new fire extinguishers? I don't believe you! Sorry, but you're not that stupid!"
Jo and Shokki looked down at the floor, embarrassed.
"We knew. We wanted to carry out this attack," said Shokki.
I was stunned. I didn't recognize them. Were they my friends? They planted the bombs? The ones who are now murderers?
"You killed a person! Do you realize that?"
Yes, I was whining:
"We didn't want this. Shit! If I'd known the load was so strong, I would never have joined in."
I was at my wit's end. I felt as if I were lying in my grave and someone I once knew very well was telling me I was immortal. Disbelief set in. I'd known them both my whole life, and now this?
I couldn't say another word. Felix then addressed the two of them:
"And why are you here now?"
"The BKA was after us, and we had no way out, especially when you feel a gun to your back. And all I could think of was Felix's apartment. Sorry!"
"Great! You're great friends! Not only putting yourselves in danger, but dragging others into it too, fantastic!"
The two didn't say another word and looked dejectedly at the tiled wall.
My brain's electrical impulses began to correspond. We were in the kitchen. If they were to access the room, it would be from the living room, where there was a balcony. The kitchen faced the backyard. They probably wouldn't be able to get in here. So, the apartment door and the living room. I had the "SD card" in my left jeans pocket, and I started to pull it out unnoticed. The asshole guarding us had his eyes on Wallice. Probably assuming that if anything were to happen, it would be his fault.
"Hey!" the asshole suddenly shouted, pointing the gun at my forehead. He continued to shout in Gaelic, which I couldn't understand.
I raised both my hands and placed them on the back of my head. This gesture was meant
Show that I was defenseless. And had nothing with me. Except for the small card that was now under my ass.
With his left hand, he pulled my hair, causing me to fall forward. The card was now resting on the sole of my left shoe. And with one movement, I shoved it over to Wallice.
"Press the button, honey!" I said quietly.
Wallice pressed him. I didn't notice, though. The asshole knocked me unconscious with the butt of his gun. All I felt was a nasty pain, and that was it for me.
I woke up when the flash grenades exploded. A loud bang, a bright flash! Pistol shots rang out.
I still felt numb. The SWAT stormed the apartment after Wallice pressed the button.
After that, there were only facets: police officers in gray-blue uniforms around me, then flashing blue lights and the bright lights of the ambulance. A doctor leaned toward me and said something I didn't understand.
Dusk.
Wallice!
All just a dream?
If so, then a damn intense dream!
Wallice
–
Decisions
(before
two
days)
It took a while for me to find my way around. The new surroundings, these two boys. I simply didn't trust them; everything was so new and, ultimately, terribly complicated.
What was happening at home right now? People missed me. Steve, Peter... people who were important to me. Dad? The rest was a nonstarter; I could do without it.
But still, with every minute I felt safer with them, just trying to be what these two boys were: a normal person.
Somehow, it felt like we'd known each other forever. We laughed a lot, and I just felt comfortable.
I spent the first night on the couch; I was just dead anyway and would have slept on the doormat in front of the toilet.
The next day was dedicated to relaxing. We played cards, laughed, and joked around. The TV was always on, and sometimes it gave me a little pang in my heart when they showed me my hometown. I hadn't yet thought about what would happen next.
On the second evening, Felix went to his parents' house. It was his father's birthday and Felix wanted to spend the night with them because of the distance.
Axel and I decided to put a pizza in the oven.
We sat in front of the TV, ate pizza, and watched the news. The attack was, of course, the priority. Axel stared at the television, and I could really capture the boy's mood. He held his hands to his face and swallowed. I was glad that my father, my grandmother, and Peter were there.
"What a mess we've made," Axel said after a while.
"We? You messed up, not me."
But I couldn't help but grin.
At some point I told Axel that I was tired and wanted to go to sleep.
"You can sleep in Felix's bed," he called after me. He probably thought I had the right to sleep in a decent bed for once.
"But you'll come too, won't you?" I asked, without thinking about it too much.
"Yes, I'll be right there," he called after me.
I was afraid I'd break down at the thought of sharing a bed with Axel. But then something clicked. Deep down in my soul, I wanted it. I wanted to sleep with Axel, even if it was a pipe dream that couldn't come true.
A little later, I heard Axel come into the bedroom. As a precaution, I pretended to be asleep. I'd never had real sex before, especially not with a boy. Did I want that tonight? I wasn't afraid of it, but I was suddenly incredibly nervous. Excited, or rather, excited.
I heard the rustling of his clothes. Would he lie down next to me? Of course, where else? Here in the room, there was no other option.
Panic suddenly rose within me. No, I wasn't allowed to do that. I wasn't allowed to sleep with a boy. Not with Axel or anyone else. I wasn't allowed to be gay, and if the slightest thing happened between us, like an argument or something, he might blurt it out. And then my fate would be sealed.
I got up when he was about to go to bed.
"I have to go back for a minute," I lied and went into the bathroom.
There I saw my reflection.
"You can't go to bed with him. Not now, not tomorrow, not ever," I told myself. Sure, he knew what he was getting into, but maybe he was just looking for my company. Nothing more. I reached into my underwear and had a single thought: I had to jerk off now, then nothing else would happen. I could always use a headache or nausea as an excuse.
I pulled my panties down onto my thighs and began the well-practiced procedure.
»Wallice?!«
My erection immediately shrank.
»And?«
"Where are you?"
Where was I supposed to stay? Well, he hadn't wanted it any other way. If something happened, it wouldn't be entirely my fault...
"I'm coming," I cried, pulling my panties back up.
I'm not the type of person who gets nervous easily, but what might come next made me tremble.
I cautiously lay down next to Axel, careful not to touch him anywhere. I registered in just milliseconds that Axel wasn't wearing anything.
"Good night," I said quietly.
No answer. Fine. That made me suspect he didn't want anything from me. It was indescribably beautiful next to him. Just lying there and knowing that someone was there. Someone I was beginning to like very much. My erection was almost painful, but it would subside. Although I suddenly wasn't sure anymore; after all, I hadn't masturbated in at least three days because I just hadn't gotten around to it.
Suddenly he turned to me, put his arm around my chest. How that felt. I thought I was going to fly. Should I touch his arm? Caress him? What was that intoxicating scent that surrounded me? I took a deep breath and suddenly I felt calm. Completely calm. I began to enjoy it. Axel began to numb me. Everything that lay behind us sank into insignificance. I closed the hatches in that direction. For the first time in my life, I was removed from reality. I just wanted to lie here, with him, and nothing else.
"It's nice being next to you," he whispered after what seemed like an eternity, very close to my ear, and because it tickled, it sent goosebumps all over my body.
Not just what he said, but also how he said it. My God, me next to a boy, and he was stark naked. I imagined what it would be like if this got out. That I was lying next to him that night.
Suddenly, he moved closer until his body pressed against mine. I felt his warmth, and I was once again able to smell that sweet scent emanating from him.
"Axel... please don't..." I had to resist and tried to move away from his warm, fluffy body. But the bed wasn't that big, so he moved forward.
"Hey, my prince," Axel breathed, "I want you. Now."
How much more eroticism could a voice have? Not much more, I was sure of that.
"Wait," said Axel, standing up.
He came back with a bottle of champagne.
"I think there's something to celebrate."
And then it was over for us. I stopped resisting and left his hands where they caressed me. His mouth where it sought and met mine. I fell. With him. A magical world that I entered over the next few hours. Axel was so tender... I began to fall in love with the boy. And my duties seemed to dissolve into pure nothingness. Deep in my soul, I bid farewell to the King of Witham. Axel was now my kingdom. And only in him did I want to serve and rule.
Not waking up alone, what a feeling. Axel's head was resting on my shoulder, and the boy was breathing deeply and calmly. I gently stroked his cheek, and Axel stretched out, moving very close to me. No, I wouldn't want to miss this feeling again, ever. Maybe it wasn't fair to Steve, but I didn't think I could lie next to him like that. No matter what decision I had to make, he would have to accept it.
Axel smelled of sleep, somehow. And there it was again, that numbness. Staying in bed until the end of the world, I thought.
The fact that Felix suddenly appeared in the room didn't shock me anymore.
He slowly came to our bed and placed his hands on his hips. He shook his head very slowly, only uttering a "zzzz."
I held my index finger to my mouth and signaled him to be quiet so Axel wouldn't wake up.
Felix came around to me and knelt down in front of the bed.
"I can't believe what I'm seeing. Did you..." he whispered quietly.
I nodded.
Felix stood up.
“Get up, you sleepy bunch!” he suddenly shouted.
Axel flinched and I could have slapped Felix.
"What's going on? Is the world ending?" Axel asked sleepily.
"Yes, she already is, tonight."
"How come?"
"You slept with the Prince of Witham."
"So, aren't princes human?"
Axel smiled at me and kissed my nipples.
"You're beyond saving, aren't you?"
"That's right," I replied.
A little later, Axel came out of the bathroom.
"I'm going to go get breakfast. And Felix, keep your hands off my sweetie, understood?" he grinned.
Felix bowed to him.
"I will try my best not to touch Your Highness," he grinned.
Axel shook his head and left the apartment.
"You Felix?"
»And?«
We stood in the kitchen and Felix brewed the coffee.
“What kind of person is Axel?” I wanted to know.
Felix stared at me.
"You want to know what I think of him?"
»Yes.«
He grinned.
"Axel is an asshole sometimes. More than once I've wanted to shoot him to the moon—without a return ticket."
"That's only one side of the story," I said.
"Yes, that's one side of him. And if it had any weight, it would weigh a few grams."
I had to think about these words for a while.
"Opposite the other side... which weighs a lot of kilos, right?"
"Yes. He's my best friend. And I like him, with all his rough edges. He's actually the most lovable person I can imagine."
I had to grin.
“I see, you have something to add to that?” asked Felix.
"Are you two together?"
"Who? Axel and me?"
Felix laughed out loud.
"No, we're not a good match."
"Have you never, I mean..."
"Yes, we did, you know. But that was just curiosity. Horny guys sometimes do things that aren't in life's script."
"I... I don't think there's anyone who can be so... tender..."
I had to get that off my chest and it was true after all.
Felix laughed.
"That, my dear, I can't really judge. That is to say... well... sort of...
"Where on earth is he taking so long? The bakery is just around the corner," Felix then interjected.
"Maybe he met someone else?" I tried to come up with an explanation. I was starting to feel uneasy.
"Possible," Felix replied, also with concern in his voice.
After all, we had something to lose. How long could we actually keep playing this game? Fear rose within me. Fear of losing something that suddenly meant so much to me. These two—that couldn't happen, ever. Screw the royal family, screw the throne. I began to think and act like them; that was my world. Not the one where you were constantly in the spotlight. Where even jerking off in the evening became a problem because you felt like you were being watched.
At that moment I made a decision that on the one hand I was afraid of, but on the other hand would give me a new, my new, life.
"I need something to drink now," I said, rushing into the bedroom and fetching the opened bottle of champagne.
"Are you crazy? It's not even eleven o'clock."
"I don't care," I replied. After all, the decision of my life had been made, and that would have been a reason even at six in the morning.
“What are you doing?” Felix asked with wide eyes.
"We should celebrate."
"What?"
"I'm never going back to England."
Felix's eyes grew even bigger.
"What don't you want?"
"Back."
He slumped down on the kitchen chair with a loud sigh.
"You're not serious, are you?"
I grinned.
"It couldn't be more serious."
"How do you want to do that?"
The door opened and Axel came into the kitchen.
The topic was off the table for now. We had breakfast and then went for a walk. It was indescribably beautiful, if only because neither of us took notice. The highlight of the afternoon was when Axel suddenly took my hand. I let him, just like that. And I was truly on cloud nine.
But then, when we got home... Everything happened so fast, it was unbelievable. I was so shocked that I didn't even notice half of what was happening.
Cathy O'Raelly and two disgusting guys—that's all I registered; it was the fear of death that was hanging over my head. Guns, threats...
I debated the country and its people, religion, property, right and wrong. But I knew it wouldn't achieve anything. The three of them had something planned, and they would see it through, by any means necessary and at any cost.
It also took me a while to understand what Axel was doing with a chip that he gave me with the words:
"Press the button, honey." He loved me, that was now clear. And I gathered everything I had to save us. I pressed the button – and minutes later, all hell broke loose.
Suddenly I couldn't see anything anymore, I was blind. Truly blind, and the thought of it shocked me so much that I barely registered anything. Screams, gunshots, smoke, incredible chaos. Strong hands grabbed me and dragged me somewhere. I think I screamed too, out of sheer fear.
At some point, I calmed down. I must have been sitting in a vehicle, listening to the engine and radio conversations. After an eternity, contours began to form on my retina again.
"Well, young man, is everything OK?"
I nodded cautiously. No one who wanted to get their hands on someone would ask that kind of question. Apparently, I had escaped a catastrophe.
I slowly took in the scenery outside, the two men sitting in front. The passenger kept looking back at me.
"Are you missing something? Are you in pain?"
I shook my head, happy to finally be able to see again.
“What about Axel?” I asked, afraid of an answer.
The man looked at me almost intrusively.
"In the hospital."
I started to tremble, knowing what he meant.
"What happened to the others?"
"We arrested two. Rainer Schulte and Joachim Heilmann.
An O'Raelly and two unknown guys got it...«
The two were still alive, which was lucky. The SEK had done a great job.
“Take me to him,” I demanded.
"To whom?"
"To Axel."
"That's not possible. Half the country is in turmoil, and your father doesn't want you to be found."
"But you found me."
"No not really."
I didn't understand anything.
"What does that mean?"
"We don't know who else is behind the attacks. We have to be safe, and until then, you stay invisible. Simple as that."
"I have to go to Axel."
“It doesn’t work,” the man in the passenger seat grumbled again.
I felt tears welling up. How broken was my life all of a sudden?
"I'll give you as much money as you want. Or whatever other things you want, but please take me to my friend!"
Suddenly the car pulled over to the side of the road and stopped.
The driver turned to me.
"What do you mean by that?"
"Damn it, I just said it. Take me to him."
The two of them looked at each other. They were probably just realizing what I'd just suggested. It was absurd, but I had no other options. If they agreed to it, I was lucky.
"If you're going to bribe us, you must really care about seeing him."
"Would you please take me to the hospital now?"
The driver shrugged his shoulders and stepped on the gas.
My new friend didn't look well. A thick bandage around his head, and Axel was drifting off into a daze.
He was lying alone in the room, fortunately not in intensive care. Although the sight of him was anything but reassuring, I could assume his life was not in danger.
I gently tapped him on the shoulder.
"Hello Axel."
He slowly opened his eyes.
"Hello Wallice," he whispered weakly.
"Are you okay?"
He nodded slightly.
"I've felt better before."
I sat on the edge of the bed and took his hand.
"Hey, kid, you'll be okay."
"What about Jo and Shokki?"
"They'll probably spend some time in jail first."
"And O'Raelly? The other two?"
I just shook my head.
"Shit... fucking shit," he shouted.
"Leave it, it was their own fault. O'Raelly and her followers didn't deserve any better."
"Wallice, you... you're staying with me, right?"
I took a deep breath. The decision had already been made, but now it was time to implement it.
I ran to the window. It was a beautiful day outside. The trees were so wonderfully green, flowers in the park below. Yes, I wanted to take care of things like that. Not etiquette, not bitchy aristocratic women. Not children, not obligatory programs. While these thoughts had often made me feel like I was throwing away something valuable, now all I needed was a glance at my boyfriend. His eyes, that pleading. No, I couldn't trade that for anything.
I went to Axel's bed, leaned down to him and we kissed passionately.
Suddenly the door opened and an unknown man entered the room. It happened far too quickly for Axel and I to react. He seemed to realize immediately that he'd taken the wrong door, but suddenly he stared at me. Then he wiped his eyes. I instinctively felt that he recognized me.
"Sorry, I think I'm in the wrong room," he almost stammered, turned around, and disappeared.
"Hey Wallice, you're so pale. Is something wrong?"
I shook my head.
"No, Axel, I just thought for a moment he recognized me."
I slept in Axel's room that night. Well, it wasn't really sleep, as I was sitting at the small table with my head resting on my arm.
I woke up feeling quite exhausted, and Axel was already awake and smiling at me.
"Hey big guy, you seem to be feeling pretty good again, right?"
Axel grinned.
"Yes, it does. But you look pretty crumpled. Why didn't you come into bed with me like I suggested?"
"If someone had come in there that night... No, we can save that for later."
Shortly afterwards, the nurse entered the room and, without saying a word, began making Axel's bed. He came to me.
"Come on, let's walk down the hall, a few meters at least."
“Can he?” I asked the nurse.
She smiled.
"Yes, but no forced march, the rounds are coming soon."
There wasn't much going on in the hallways that morning, so we quickly found a spot where we could share a kiss. A very intense—and almost passionate—one.
We noticed the person far too late and were torn from our brief dream world by a flash of lightning.
The man from yesterday. He slowly lowered his camera and smiled at us.
"Would you like to comment on these photos?"
He held out his business card to us. This newspaper was read throughout Germany...
Axel and I looked at each other, then at him. I knew the law of freedom of the press; it was impossible to stop this man from publishing. Unless you offered him money. But in that moment, I saw my chance, I saw our chance coming. My heart was pounding wildly; I recognized the man's fierce determination from the sparkle in his eyes. But it was better not to say anything. He would twist every word to suit the readers' wishes anyway.
My voice trembled as I said to the man:
"Write whatever you want."
I took Axel by the arm and we went back to his room.
There he looked at me like a monster.
"Are you crazy? Do you know what that means?"
"Yes, my dear, I know that. Before you stands the Prince of Witham, who is no longer one."
"Wallice, that's nonsense. You're giving up the throne, just like that?"
"Not just for the sake of it. I'm doing it because of you."
He stared at me.
"Because of me?"
I took his head in my hands and kissed him lightly on the lips.
"Yes, because of you."
During the rounds, I took a walk in the hospital park. I reflected on my life, what it once was, what it would become. I couldn't change it now; it was too late. But ultimately, I had wanted it this way. A new life lay before me, and I would manage it, somehow.
I spent the rest of the day in my room with Axel. We thought a lot about it, but we also slowly began to restructure our lives. Axel took the matter very seriously, and at some point during the night, we realized how we could handle it. Even though everything was still up in the air, we still had a goal.
That night I ended up sleeping in his bed.
Early in the morning, I headed to the hospital kiosk. I slowly walked toward the newspaper rack, my heart threatening to burst. But with every meter I got closer to the rack, the image became clearer. A photo that took up half the front page. Awesome, I had to admit. Didn't you even see a bit of Axel's tongue? Awesome.
"Gay! Prince Wallice visits his injured German friend in the hospital"
Bold, black letters. Even those who didn't read this newspaper couldn't escape the headline.
Well, that was apt. England would become a cauldron in a few hours.
At that moment my cell phone rang.
"Wallice, what's going on? The phone here hasn't stopped ringing."
"Dad, I can't say I'm sorry. I love Axel and I'm going to stay with him."
Silence on the other end.
"Dad, there's no other way. I can't live under duress, that's not my thing. I've probably disappointed you, but that's the way it is."
"I understand."
Dad's voice was quiet and sad. I could empathize with him, because what was about to happen to him was certainly anything but a walk in the park.
"Speak up, do you hear?" he said.
"Sure, I promise."
Only then did I notice the beads of sweat on my forehead.
I slumped into the chair in the aisle and closed my eyes. Everything was spinning, nothing was settling in order, especially not my future.
I pictured Steven in front of me. I wondered what he would feel now? He'd never openly admitted that he truly loved me. I would contact him, someday. Right now, I just didn't have the nerve.
The door to Axel's room opened, and my friend staggered into the doorway. The way he looked in those pajamas...
"What's going on?" he asked.
I didn't say anything, just held up the newspaper so he could read the front page.
He snapped his fingers.
»Wow.«
He approached me and took the newspaper from me. Curiously, he read the article, which I hadn't even seen before.
“Did you read that?” he then asked.
I shook my head.
Axel dropped the newspaper on the floor and pulled me up from my chair.
"My prince. My everything," he whispered and hugged me.
Axel still smelled of sleep, and once again he sedated me.
"I'll never let you go," I said.
"I don't either. Whatever happens, we'll get through it."
I kissed him, in the middle of the hallway.
"England has lost a prince."
"It doesn't matter, I have one now. And I'm never giving it up."