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Okay, take a deep breath and let's go. I've been working on this plan for weeks, it's perfect. Nothing can go wrong. I'm just going to march up to him, ignore the mob of women around him, and... say what needs to be said. Yes, I will. As soon as my feet are ready. Move along, you assholes! The shaking of my legs is anything but convenient. No matter. I stagger unsteadily through the common room of the disgusting student residence, secretly glad I don't have to live here. I'd rather have a cheap mini-apartment than a room in this concrete box. Anyway... ah, there he is, lounging on the couch like a damn pasha. A girl is creeping up to him from the right, one from the left. I wouldn't be surprised if a few pearl barley were crawling at his feet too. Let's face it... Nico is very popular with the ladies. There are several reasons for this. First of all, he's Italian, but not a tanned Giovanni Zarrella Italian, but a handsome, pale-skinned, almost anachronistic Italian with medium-length, dark brown curls that, depending on the light, take on a reddish shimmer. That brings us to reason number two... Nico is gorgeous. Reason number three is certainly his name... Niccolo Da Silva... I mean, that sounds really made up... like a young aristocrat in 17th or 18th-century Venice. My real name is so unoriginal and ordinary that I had to pick up a nickname as a teenager. If I'd known Poppy Brite back then, I probably would have called myself Zillah or Ghost. Oh well.
 
Back to my plan. Damn, seeing Nico made me completely forget what I wanted to say. An apology might have been a good place to start, because I just tripped over a woman's leg that was conveniently loitering in the middle of the path, and I was forced to brace myself with both hands on Nico's thighs because otherwise I would have fallen. Oh shit, I touched his thighs without asking!
“Oops, young man,” he smiles casually, while the anorexic lady rubs her skinny leg.
“Sorry,” I scream, completely thrown off.
“Nothing’s wrong,” assures the handsome Italian, leaning forward slightly, “Vivien… foot still on, right?”
“Stupid idiot,” she hisses angrily.
By the way, I'm standing in front of him again, fairly confidently. My hands are sweating... thank goodness they haven't left any wet marks on his jeans.
“You’re Feli,” he says, blinking.
Somehow my nickname suddenly seems incredibly stupid. I used to be (around twelve or thirteen) I was incredibly proud of it because I do like cats, and scientifically they're called Felidae. Amazingly, people just accept it when you introduce yourself as Feli and think it's a real name. You could just as well say your name is Snickers, Daim, or Pumuckl... I'm sure everyone would believe it too. I recently saw one of those crappy reality documentaries where a kid with such-and-such a name was called Benvenuto! What the fuck... to assume that at daycare he likes to play with the little one Happy Birthday and the slightly older one Walk In.
“Would you like something?” the Italian interrupts my thoughts.
"Uh... no. Well... yes, I, ahem..." I stammer stupidly, "I need to discuss something with you for a moment. Alone."
“Right now?”
"Sure, but..." I cast two or three glances at the barley, which is still snuggled up to him, "if you're busy right now..."
"It's okay. I wanted to get something to eat anyway. We can discuss whatever you want on the way to the pizzeria," he explains, finally freeing himself from the pushy women. "Wait a minute, I'll just get my jacket."
 
I'm surprised that Nico knows who I am. The fact that I know who he is is, of course, thanks to Silas, who attends various courses, seminars, whatever, with the Italian. Nico studies musicology, sings, plays a thousand instruments, and occasionally plays in Silas' band when they're experimenting. Oh, and Silas is a punk I picked up in a club three years ago. That is to say... actually, he picked me up... it doesn't matter at all, we ended up in bed anyway, but we quickly realized that while the sex was good, it wasn't enough for a romantic relationship. We've been friends ever since. I'm shamelessly exploiting that at the moment and invite myself to every rehearsal when Nico's there. Silas finds it amusing that I stare at a straight guy and get red-faced when Nico merely walks into the room.
 
My ears do indeed feel a little warm when Nico comes back. Did I mention that the Italian is gorgeous? That pretty, knee-length coat, that cozy black scarf... I feel dizzy. Unfortunately, he's wearing a stupid knitted hat, but even that can't dampen his beauty. Shit, what was my plan again? My brain is kind of frozen solid, it's arctic temperatures outside and there's a bit of snow lying around. Besides, it's the beginning of March! That's because of climate change, global warming... my parents always say. In the past, thirty years ago, it was never warm until November and cold until May. There were fewer hailstorms and generally fewer hurricane-force storms that uprooted trees and blew roofs off houses. My father, who also likes to complain about environmental and air pollution, logically drives everywhere. For the sake of the environment, I usually take my bike, but without a helmet, which is obviously a bad idea... should you accidentally fall and hit your head hard.
"It must be something pretty important if you're coming to the dorm in this crappy weather," Nico thinks as we trudge through the streets. "You don't live here, do you?"
„Nee.“
I'm not even studying. I was actually planning to... chemistry... but then an inner voice told me I absolutely had to learn the art of haircutting. By the way, it's a cliché that all hairdressers are gay. In my vocational school class, there's only one guy besides me, and he has a girlfriend.
 
Unfortunately, the pizzeria is only two blocks away. Too close for a conversation.
"Ciao, Tino," Nico greets as he enters the small restaurant and hugs the pizza guy. Afterward, they exchange a few pleasantries in Italian, and Nico orders something. Grappa shortens the wait. Great, I'm not confused enough yet.
When we get back outside with Nico's food, I feel a little dizzy.
"My apartment is ten minutes from here," I hear myself saying, and immediately want to bite my tongue off. Am I crazy?
"Aha," Nico smiles lasciviously. I think that's his normal expression. "It takes five minutes to get to the dorm. Now explain to me why I should walk through the cold any longer than necessary."
Fuck!
"I... ahem... well... well..."
"Persuaded," he beams, making me feel completely dizzy. "Come on, otherwise I'll freeze my ass off. And the food will get cold."
Oh my homeland… the handsome Italian wants to come with me!
 
Arriving at my tiny apartment, Nico unashamedly takes off his coat, scarf, and knitted hat, carelessly drops everything on the floor, and sits down on the dark blue velvet couch. I play the perfect host and bring him cutlery and something to wipe his mouth with... it's a Halloween napkin. Nico giggles sweetly.
“Get a fork, I don’t like eating alone,” he says.
Okay, so we poke around together at the tortellini alla panna, and over the tiramisu, he finally wants to know what I wanted to talk about with him. Of course, I've long since forgotten. I mean, I actually wanted to ask him if he'd sleep with me sometime, but that question seems kind of inappropriate right now. What I'm saying is, of course, I don't have the guts. I'm just not much of a womanizer, and Nico doesn't look like he'd be interested in being picked up by me, of all people.
“Feli,” he begins, licking the spoon in an almost obscene manner, “is that the nickname for Felix?”
“No, from Sebastian.”
"Please?"
“Feli is just a nickname,” I explain, blushing.
“Sounds sweet, but what does it mean?”
Cute? Did he say cute? Oh dear! Fuck, I can't tell him that stupid cat story now...
“Feli… like Fellini?” he speculates.
"Felidae."
"Ah, I see. Cool movie, pretty intense. Especially the scene where Francis fucks the cat girl."
Funny, I really remember other scenes from the film. Besides, Nico's only been here for three seconds and he's already talking about fucking?!
"To be honest, I found it almost a little erotic. Oh God, don't think I'm into animal sex. I mean... hey, it's a cartoon... forget what I said," he shakes his head.
“I think reality isn’t quite as erotic with cats.”
„Nee?“
"Because... a tomcat's penis has barbs... so you can imagine that it's probably more painful than fun... I mean, as a cat."
Wait a minute, why on earth am I talking to him about hangover penises?
"Wow," Nico marvels, "how disgusting. But female cats are still in heat all the time, so it can't be that bad."
"First of all, they're not in heat all the time, and secondly, nature probably designed it that way... for reproduction purposes. At least cats don't eat their males after sex."
"No reason to get loud," Nico says. "I like cats, okay?"
“Sorry,” I apologize, red-faced.
“Are you always so… passionate?” he grins.
“Uh…” I say helplessly.
“That little punk with his crazy band is a friend of yours, right?”
"However."
“Isn’t he gay?”
Cool, he doesn't even know his name, but knows that Silas is gay?
“So what?”
“So you like guys too?”
That sounded less like a question and more like a statement. Somehow, Nico just beamed himself down a bit from my sympathy scale.
"Why? Because gays are only friends with gays, or what?"
"Feli, you're very easily riled up. I was just asking and... I don't have anything against gays, so come back to normal."
"I'm sorry."
"No problem," he waves it off. "That question was really inappropriate. After all, we barely know each other, which... can of course be changed. Can you give me your phone number? Then we can meet up sometime when I have a bit more time... if you like."
Of course I like it!

---

"What's the point of that?" Silas wants to know, to whom I naturally tell him about my visit the next evening. "The guy's straight."
"You know him that well? Nico didn't even know your name."
"Yes, because he's interested in women. You saw his harem again yesterday."
“That means absolutely nothing.”
“Reality refugee,” Silas smiles sympathetically.
Shortly afterwards, my phone rings. It's... Nico! And he's making a date with me for Friday. YES!!!
“If you fall on your face, I won’t pick you up, little one.”
"You're just jealous because he doesn't want to go out with you," I grumble. "And don't call me little guy." Silas is only two years older than me!
"I warned you," he sighs, eating a donut. "What about it? Are you dyeing my hair?"
“Hey, I didn’t do anything else today but cut and dye my hair.”
“Cool, then you’re still fully in it.”
"That takes a thousand hours," I groan, annoyed. "And you can probably throw your hair away afterward. Ever heard that constant bleaching is seriously damaging to the hair structure?"
“If they break, they just come off,” he shrugs, waving his hand casually.
Well, if I had his messy haircut, it wouldn't bother me either. The sides are millimeter-short, and the rest hangs around in kind of half-length, stringy strands. My boss would throw up her hands in despair.
 
By the way, keyword casualness... Even as a child, Silas could look, sit, stand, or hang around incredibly casually. Silas and I have known each other since long before our night together. We went to the same daycare center for a year, where he was more of a wild rascal, which is why I was afraid of him. I hated him. And admired him, because I wanted to be like him. Later on, I often wondered what had become of him... when I had to look at old daycare photos at my mom's... Silas looked really cute as a child. And daring. He perfected all of that while growing up. So it's no wonder that I immediately went to bed with him when we ran into each other by chance about fifteen years later and discovered that we were both gay. Sometimes life is really funny, isn't it?
 
After about two and a half hours, his hair is Smurf-blue, and Silas leaves, satisfied. I, on the other hand, can't stop thinking about Nico, who wants to meet me the day after tomorrow.
 
I have vocational school on Thursdays, which is easy, and on Fridays I have to work until 2 a.m. There are definitely advantages to working for a company that only offers training. You learn better and faster, the hours are more pleasant than in "normal" shops, and there are no things like practice evenings because we learn on the job. The only downside is the money. Unfortunately, as a hairdresser's apprentice, you earn very little... I earn even less. Okay, there is one more downside... we get a lot of grannies who want the standard program: washing, styling, a cut every four weeks, and a perm every couple of months. I could probably do the latter blindfolded. The grannies are truly incredible. One time, one of them got so sick while washing my hair that she puked on my shoes through the tissue she was holding over her mouth. That wasn't even the worst part. It got disgusting when she tried to wipe the yellow slime off the floor with her vomit-covered tissue. Then again, in the morning they unpack the cheese sandwiches they brought with them as soon as they're married and a cup of coffee is in front of them. Or they fall asleep so soundly that your heart starts racing because you think they've accidentally died unnoticed. And when they're not eating, not sleeping and not dead, they talk... babble until your head nearly explodes. You learn to tune out though and nod and say "hm-hm" every now and then. But they're all mostly sweet and nice. Especially Rosalie. She's about a thousand years old, comes every Friday and gets hand-applied curls. But only I can call her Rosalie because she only lets me touch her hair. The five euro tip is obviously a plus, because most people only give one or two.
 
At the moment, however, I'm not having as much to do with customers because the third-year apprentices are preparing for their journeyman's exam this summer. I should have started learning theory a long time ago, but... oh well. I have a meeting with Nico in the castle park soon, which is definitely more important.
 
Luckily, winter seems to be slowly disappearing. It's still cold, but at least it's sunny. Nico, who's already waiting for me, hasn't worn his knitted hat, which is a good thing because his hair is shimmering so pretty reddish in the sun. We walk through the park for a while, and I have to fight the urge to hold his hand.
“What are you studying?” he asks.
"Nothing. I'm going to be a hairdresser."
“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought…”
"You don't have to be sorry. Nobody forced me; I chose this myself."
"Why?"
“Because it’s a great job?” I suggest, noticing that my voice is getting a little shrill.
"Well, but not necessarily... demanding, right? Anyone could probably cut a little hair."
"You obviously have no idea," I exclaim. "Or could you just explain to me the chemical processes involved in a perm? Or coloring? Tell me what pointing and slicing are, and what tools you use for them. Strumming around on a piano or guitar isn't that difficult either. Anyone can do THAT."
"Feli," he sighs, "what's wrong with us? Why do I keep getting you so upset?"
Hmm, he's full of prejudices!
"I do not know."
“Okay, let’s talk about something else.”
"Very gladly."
Otherwise he'll come up with the idea that all hairdressers are gay and all hairdressers are stupid makeup chicks.
"Is your father the godfather of a family or just a small fry in the mafia? And how about... will you follow in his footsteps later?"
Sorry, but that had to happen now!
“Then I’d have to make you an offer you can’t refuse, right?” he laughs.
“My parents, as befits us, run an ice cream parlor.”
"Which?"
"Ice Cream Parlor Da Silva. My parents weren't very original when it came to naming it."
"This is yours? They have the best ice cream there."
“Logical,” he waves.
I have funny memories of the restaurant. Last summer, I was there with my sister. A family was sitting at the next table, and the child politely asked for a Donald Duck squeaky mouse! Instead, he got a Pinocchio, which the child didn't notice.
“What are your parents doing?” he asks.
"Nothing special."
"Okay, now that we know practically everything about each other... will you tell me?"
„Was’n?“
"Whether you like guys and what's going on between you and the punk."
“Silas and I are friends.”
"And I thought you were having a relationship with him."
“That was ages ago.”
“But you did.”
"It wasn't anything serious, just sex. Now, like I said, we're friends."
“Is that why you’ve been hanging around band rehearsals so much lately?”
“Why else?”
"I don't know," he replies, stopping. "There are people who say you're hot for me."
Okay, I'm going to blow myself up. Right now.
“What kind of people?”
“People.”
“And if that were the case?”
Huh? Did I suddenly go stupid?
"Wouldn't mind," he replies with a shrug. "After all, it's always flattering when people think you're great. No matter who says it." Suddenly he looks at his watch. "I have to go. Thanks for the walk."
“Yes.”
“So… see you then.”
Cool, that's it. He'll never contact me again. Shit, I screwed up. Why did I have to tell him that I liked him?

---

Nico just called to make a date with me. For tonight. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to be completely open. Or let's say half-open. After all, I didn't actually admit that I find him particularly attractive. Actually, I was remaining more hypothetical. Besides, if he doesn't mind, there might still be a slight chance...
 
After I've cleaned my apartment, I change my clothes about twenty times and find myself remarkably ugly... in contrast to the Italian. My hair is okay; I wear it black and styled in an emo style because that suits me best. A few strands of bangs are always colored because only black is boring. If I knew what Nico was up to, I could prepare my clothes accordingly. Does he want to go out? To a club, to the movies, to get something to eat? Or are we just staying here? Shit, maybe I should have gone shopping. The fridge doesn't have much room. On my pantry shelf are a few microwaveable meals next to a can of ravioli. There would have been plenty of sweets if Silas hadn't drastically reduced my supply. Whatever. If all goes well, Nico doesn't come here to eat his fill, but to sleep with me. Ha, ha, Feli, stop dreaming!
 
Nico shows up promptly at 7:30. The sight of him takes my breath away, as always. And he makes it clear pretty quickly that he wants to be comfortable today, because he immediately lounges on the couch and unpacks two bottles of red wine. Being the romantic that I am, I light a few candles. Holy crap, I hate red wine. Especially dry wine. That stuff practically knocks your socks off.
"You're really lucky to live alone," he claims. "There's always something going on in the dorm, parties and stuff, always very loud."
“Don’t you like parties?”
“Sometimes, but not every other night.”
The flickering candlelight makes Nico's face appear even more beautiful. Beautiful and mysterious. His lips look incredibly soft. My goodness, how can you not lose your mind?
“Why don’t you live at home with your parents?”
“Well, it was just time to leave the nest.”
“So why not have your own apartment?”
"I didn't have the nerve to search around for long. Feli, I was thinking," he says, sipping his wine aristocratically.
"Yes."
“About you and this thing.”
"Matter?"
„Sex.“
I'm so shocked that I get the damn booze down the wrong tube and have to cough until I'm sick.
“I can’t imagine that… that you have sex with men.”
"It's not like I jump on every guy I see."
"Sure, I mean in general. At parties, you often see guys making out..."
"It's pretty hip right now. I don't think they're all gay."
"Probably. But there must be something to it, otherwise so many people wouldn't do it."
"I guess it's about the same with straight guys. They make out too. Sometimes because they're in love, and sometimes just for fun."
“Yes, but sex with men, that’s… that surely feels different.”
"I don't know. I like it."
“Always?”
"Actually, yes. I did have a fling with a girl once, but that wasn't it."
“And with boys… with Silas… that was… how?”
"Silas wasn't the first, but he was definitely the best so far," I blurt out unashamedly. It's because of that damn booze! "Why are you asking me such questions?"
“You know, I like women.”
With this, he completely destroyed my already shaky illusion of Nico and Feli being in love.
“But that’s all I know.”
„Hm…“
“I would really be interested to know what it’s like to kiss a boy, for example.”
My illusion is digging itself out of its grave, gasping for air in hope. Especially because Nico is moving closer to me. Much closer.
“Would you like to try it?”
He tilts his head to the side and looks at me. "I think so."
Okay, that was an invitation, yes. I press my mouth against his lips, which are actually incredibly soft. My heart is pounding like crazy and my entire body is practically on fire as his tongue taps against mine and then, unfortunately, withdraws very quickly.
"And?"
The handsome Italian licks his lips slightly. "Different."
“Differently good or differently bad?”
“Just different,” he whispers and kisses me again.
This kiss lasts longer and is more intense. I don't care that I'm just some kind of test subject at the moment. What was that about giving a gift horse?
“You’re very sweet,” Nico smiles, somewhat surprised.
And awesome. Okay, no risk, no fun!
“Does this satisfy your curiosity or…”
"Or?"
“There are other things boys do together.”
Nico raises an eyebrow meaningfully.
“Do you want to know anything else?”
“Yes,” he whispers in my ear, almost making me come, “everything.”
 
Wow, Nico actually means what he said. Just a little fooling around is clearly not enough for him. So I'm going to have sex with the handsome Italian guy in every way I can.
 
A few days later, I still feel completely out of it, even though I'd promised myself not to get too worked up about it, because you never know what might come of it. It could be that it was a one-time thing for Nico. He wanted to try something out and realized he liked it better with women. On the other hand, I'm pretty sure he liked it. But maybe that's wishful thinking. Or maybe it was the wine. We didn't talk about it much afterward. We eventually fell asleep, and the next morning he took off pretty quickly. He did say he'd call me, but I guess everyone says that after a one-night stand. There's nothing I can do but wait. Under no circumstances should I keep stalking him at rehearsals or in the dorms. It's embarrassing enough that all the women at university are kissing the ground he walks on. I don't want him to think I'm like those barley. The stupid thing is, the night with the Italian guy made me so euphoric that I'm constantly grinning and walking on air. I really need to get this under control. My boss already asked me today if I'd won the lottery. If she knew I had the most amazing sex with the most beautiful person in the universe, I think she'd understand my state. Nico was so... enchanting... gorgeous... his skin is soft as velvet, and his touch... I'm simply at a loss for words.
 
In the evening, just as I was about to sit in front of the TV to distract myself, the doorbell rang.
“Hey,” Nico beams and hops up the last few steps.
“Hello,” I greet him, surprised.
"I wanted to see you. Is that okay?"
“Uh… sure.”
Apparently he wants to kiss me too, because as soon as the door closes, Nico is already hanging on my lips. I feel a little taken aback as he pushes me toward the bedroom.
"What?" he asks. "So shy today?"
“Rather irritated.”
"I don't understand. You seduced me and now you're irritated because I want it again?"
“I somehow didn’t expect it to be that easy,” I admit.
“Get me into bed?” he grins sexily.
"Exactly. Especially since you're something of a heartthrob."
“I just have a weakness for beautiful things.”
“I am not a thing.”
“But nice,” he winks and pushes me onto the mattress.
“Hey, how did you even come to the conclusion that I seduced you?”
He slowly leans over me, takes off my shirt, and unbuttons my jeans. "Isn't that right?"
“You wanted to know…”
"And you enjoyed showing me, huh? Anyway..." He kisses my neck, my chest, and licks my nipples a little, "I'm a perfectionist, and since this kind of sexuality is new to me..."
Well, he can blow pretty well. Oh my goodness, I feel like I'm seeing colorful stars!
 
“I never thought it could be so sensual to touch another man,” Nico whispers afterward, “to kiss and… to love.”
Oh shit, he talks like a sappy novel. I don't know if I want to get used to that. The guys I dated were pretty direct.
And Silas, for example, likes things dirty.
“You really turned my head.”
“And you to me,” I reply and kiss him.

---

I have to tell Silas. He's already noticed something's going on, and besides, I just can't keep it to myself any longer. Nico and I have been dating for a few weeks now, but we haven't seen each other much because I'm working and he has to write papers and practice his thousand instruments.
Silas is lounging on the couch as usual, eating my hair. I've barely bought sweets before they're gone again.
“Spit it out, little one,” he demands, sucking on a Kinder chocolate bar.
“Hmm?” I pretend I don’t know what he means.
"I can see from the tip of your cute nose that you want to tell me something. It's probably about that boring Italian."
“Nico is not boring.”
“A walk in the castle park wouldn’t really blow me away.”
“You don’t have a sense of romance either.”
"I once held your hair back while you were throwing up, boy, that's pure romance."
“That was at best… nice.”
"Sorry I didn't have a red rose handy to tuck into your black braids," he replies. "So, what about Nico? Did he go for another walk with you, Romeo?"
“No, he went to bed with me.”
"Aha," he says, staring boredly at his fingernails, but he's not fooling me. He's probably just as surprised by this as I still am.
“You’re an asshole,” I think.
"I never doubted you could get him if the opportunity arose. You're sweet and a good blow job, even a straight guy would be tempted. Are you together now, or was it a one-time thing?"
“It was several times,” I grin like I’m stoned.
“I’d be interested to hear what his girlfriend has to say about this.”
My grin dies reflexively.
“What kind of girlfriend?”
“Well, one of the harem ladies is probably his girlfriend.”
Ah, okay, my heart is beating again. I thought Silas actually knew something.
"No way. Nico is with me."
“Well, then everything is… in the paint, or something.”
“Very true.”
“Can I please make stupid sex jokes at the rehearsal tomorrow when the Italian comes?”
“No way, you complete idiot.”
Silas is laughing his head off.
"Cool. I'm off then," he explains, puts on his shoes and jacket, grabs a few chocolate bars, and... is off.
I can only hope he keeps his damn mouth shut! Silas can't be trusted for a second.
 
I actually don't even know if Nico and I are together. It feels like it, but no one's said it out loud yet. On the other hand, you don't have to say something like that, do you? After all, we're not twelve-year-olds secretly sending each other little "do you want to go out with me?" notes at school. The fact that he's normally into women is also a problem. Because I have no idea if he's still in the trial phase with me. Is he straight and just wants something new? Or is he bi and just hasn't had the courage to do it before? I find it hard enough with guys who know exactly what's going on. Now I have a half-decent boyfriend and no clue what's going on inside him. And what if he decides the day after tomorrow that he's had enough homosexual experiences and dumps me to be happy with some other guy he likes? Maybe even with that skinny chick with a leg. I have to die immediately.
 
The next evening, Nico shows up at my door with shopping bags. Some vegetables peek out of one. He kisses me in greeting, immediately stomps into the kitchen, and spreads his shopping on the table.
“I’ll cook us something,” he says cheerfully.
„Okay?“
“It’s nothing special,” he grins, “I’m Italian… we cook all the time.”
I strongly suspect that he defines the term completely differently than I do. For me, cooking means putting some kind of ready-made meal in the microwave. And when I'm hungry for something "proper," I invite myself over to dinner at my mom's. Shit, Nico brought that disgusting red wine. The mere thought of the caustic concoction makes all my taste buds convulse. But I can't bring myself to tell him that I refuse his favorite drink; after all, he wants to cook for me, and no man has ever done that. I watch in delight as he chops things up and stirs pots. The fact that I have any kitchen utensils at all is thanks to my mom, who brought all sorts of things over when I moved in here. Personally, the microwave would have been enough for me.
 
“Of course, that wasn’t a truly classic Bolognese,” Nico explains later as we sit cuddled together on the couch, “that would have taken far too long.”
“Still tasted better than anything I’ve eaten before.”
"Thanks. I didn't want to tell you right away, but your Silas threatened to beat me after rehearsal today."
Horrified, I move away from him.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"In case I'm just playing with you and hurting you."
Okay, Silas is definitely going to get a good beating from me. And it's going to hurt him a lot!
"Silas fell badly on his head as a child. He's been crazy ever since. Don't take it seriously."
"He seems to like you," Nico shrugs. "Very much."
"That doesn't mean he needs to run around like Rambo. He's probably crazy."
“You didn’t have to tell him we liked each other.”
"Why? Is this a secret?"
"No," he shakes his head with a smile, "of course not. But apparently he's not handling this information well. Besides, I would never play with other people's feelings. And certainly not with yours."
“Then you have nothing to fear,” I beam, beaming with love.

---

Silas has taken off, the cowardly rat. He went home to his parents for Easter. Ha! He didn't want me to give him a slap on the wrist. Nico, by the way, is also away for a few days, which is much worse, of course, because I miss him like crazy. Logically, I won't get any Easter holidays at all, because I only go to school once a week anyway, and if I don't, I have to work. I won't get a vacation until the summer. And maybe a very long one if I pass my exam and have to find a new shop. That said, my boss has some really good contacts and has already picked out a cool salon for me. But do I really want to work as a hairdresser for a hundred years after my apprenticeship? I could easily start studying chemistry. But my life costs money, and I have to earn it somehow. I think Silas is only studying because he doesn't want to do some eight-to-five job and would rather make it big with his band. Nico... I don't know, we hardly talk about things like that when we're together. Oh man, the main thing is that I see my beautiful Italian again soon.
 
First, I see Silas again, and I immediately want to make a fool of him, but... well, he's standing at the door, grinning cutely and holding a chocolate bunny in front of me. How can I possibly stay mad?
“Is this your way of apologizing?”
"Why?" he asks, sitting down on the couch. "Did I do something wrong?"
“Uh… you want to beat up my friend?” I prompt him.
“Oh, that,” he says, shrugging his shoulders.
“Yes, it would be nice if you didn’t meddle in my affairs.”
“What kind of loser is that who’s about to tell on me?”
“That’s not the point.”
"I just wanted to make it clear to him that he's under observation."
“And he does that because…?”
“I don’t trust the Italian,” he explains.
"I trust him, that's enough. Since when did I choose you as my protector?"
“You would do that for me too.”
"You can certainly take care of yourself... with your experience in fistfighting."
"That's right. Because unlike you, I don't fall in love with any old sisters."
"Where did you get that word? From the gay dictionary?"
"Why doesn't he go out with you? Why do you always meet here... where no one can see you, huh? Doesn't he dare go out in public with you?"
"Maybe he just wants to spend the little time we have alone with me. When you're in love, you don't need publicity, asshole."
"Of course, anything could be true," he nods. "I'm sorry, but guys who are so ostentatious about showing themselves with women and sleeping with guys behind closed doors are suspicious to me."
Me too. But we're talking about Nico, damn it.
“I think we should change the subject.”
“Sure, I’m fine with that.”
“How was it with your parents?”
Silas grimaces. "Hit, sunk. Thank you."
 
When he's left two hours later, I still feel a little sorry for the question. I know Silas doesn't get along particularly well with his parents. It's mainly because of his appearance. A ragged punk just doesn't fit in with a family of doctors and aspiring architects. Dad is an oral surgeon, Mom a dentist. His brother, Silvester, is studying architecture. It's a shame my parents are just ordinary people, otherwise I'd definitely have such a great name. Well, you can't have everything. Ha, ha... Silas and Silvester, my goodness, Mr. and Mrs. Doctor probably just inhaled too much laughing gas. My parents are really nice, they like me the way I am... even if I were a punk, they would love me. The fact that I'm gay is no big deal at home; I could easily bring my boyfriend over to dinner or something. In any case, Silas is allowed to come with me to my parents' house, but they've known him since he was a kid, and I haven't exactly gone around telling them that we had sex at some point. But the welcoming kiss he once gave me in front of Mom and Dad might have given them that idea.
 
A few days after Silas, Nico also shows up again. And we end up back in bed. I don't really have anything against that, but the conversation with Silas somehow stuck with me. I also wonder why Nico always needs his disgusting booze to get laid? Then again, he's Italian, they're always drinking red wine.
“I missed you,” Nico crooned romantically.
“Why don’t we ever go out?” roars out of my mouth.
„Hm?“
"We're at my apartment all the time. Don't you want to be seen with me? Because no one should know that you... that we..."
Nico's eyes widen in surprise. "You think... Feli, I just like having you all to myself."
Ah… how sweet!
"But if you want to go out... no problem. How about a movie?"
Great, it's dark there and no one can see us. Why didn't he just invite me on a ride on the ghost train? Or secretly summon me to the old oak tree outside the city gates on a dark night?
“We could watch Dark Shadows on Saturday,” I suggest.
“I’ve already seen it with… friends.”
“Oh, I see. Not me,” I explain, somewhat disappointed.
"Fine by me. It's so great, you might as well watch it twice."
“So we’re meeting on Saturday?”
“Sure,” he smiles.
So, my dear Silas, that's proof that your stupid theory is wrong!
 
Unfortunately, Nico calls me Friday afternoon and tells me that he's so in love that he's forgotten some family celebration he absolutely has to attend on Saturday. So our movie trip is canceled. He's postponing it until next week.

---

I watched Dark Shadows with Silas. He was pining over Johnny Depp the whole time, it was horrible. Although... Johnny is really adorable as a vampire. And cute. And funny. I like Depp/Burton films anyway. And then a week later, when Nico and I were on a date, he suddenly fell ill. A cold. That could mean something, but it doesn't have to. Nico is constantly afraid of colds. Especially the ones that come with sore throats and throat congestion. Logical, after all, he needs his voice for his studies. I don't really understand what all he studies... singing seems to be in there somewhere, anyway. He's also incredibly knowledgeable about antique instruments... shawm, lute, various flutes, harpsichord, dulcimer, psaltery-something, bagpipes, hurdy-gurdy... although he can only play a few of them. My goodness... and I'm making grandmas' hair go crazy! Silas also knows all these instruments, by the way, but he never lectures me about them. Well, Nico is just an absolute music freak. Sometimes a little too freaky for my taste. But only sometimes.
 
Today is the day. Today, Nico and I are finally going to the movies. He hasn't canceled yet, which is a good sign, because we're meeting in an hour. Naturally, he's chosen a musical film: Farinelli. It's playing out of order as part of some special program, which means there probably won't be many people there. Anyway, I'm off now.
 
Nico is waiting outside the cinema; he's already bought the tickets. How thoughtful, I'm obviously invited. He also takes care of the popcorn and drinks. Wow, what a gentleman! The film is okay, beautiful pictures and all, but... hmm, maybe it's the annoying dubbing voice of that Farinelli type. I can't imagine castrati speaking so croakily. But then, it's also hard to imagine how castrati sang in real life. The singing in the film is an electronic hybrid of the voices of a countertenor and a coloratura soprano... Nico knows.
“Yeah, sure,” I say, pretending I know all about it.
"I have a CD by Alessandro Moreschi, the last and only castrato whose recordings exist. But his singing sounds more eerie than it gives you an idea of what castrati actually sounded like. Honestly... he whines like something hurts," he grins as we have drinks in a bar afterward. "Well, by the time the recordings were made, he'd probably already lost quite a bit of his vocal range."
“Hmm…” I say.
“Sorry if I bore you or get on your nerves.”
"You don't. I find that very interesting. Have you ever read Falsetto by Anne Rice?"
"I considered it. But even the synopsis was a bit too... ahem..."
"Gay?"
"Too much pompous history surrounding it. I don't want to know who castrati had sex with or who they wanted revenge on. I'm interested in singing and music."
Well, for me, it's the exact opposite. For example, I didn't know before that castrati could even have sex. Ha, ha, that's why they were so incredibly popular with women... Having fun without having to fear unpleasant consequences!
“Don’t you ever read anything for entertainment?”
“If I have time, definitely.”
„Was’n?“
"Recently... My inner Elvis. I hardly believe you..."
“The little sister with the reptilian eyeglasses who collects her urine, constantly plays psychotherapy and asks about orgasms,” I interrupt, laughing.
"Exactly. I found that incredibly funny. About as funny as the scene earlier where Farinelli practically sang old Handel to death," he giggles.
“Hey, that was supposed to be dramatic, you philistine.”
"Yes... but it wasn't, was it? Lascia ch'io pianga couldn't save it."
I'm very happy that Nico is a normal person after all. And that he doesn't mind being seen with me. The bar is busy. On the other hand, we're not sitting that close together, holding hands, or doing anything romantic. One might think we're just good friends having a drink. I don't dare give him a kiss now. Maybe that would overwhelm or scare him. I don't know. You don't have to admit your homosexuality all the time, everywhere...
"That was a lovely evening," Nico smiles, moves a little closer, places his hand on mine, and strokes the back of my hand with his thumb. Then he gently kisses my cheek.
My entire body tingles and feels remarkably rubbery. Especially my legs, as I leave the restaurant.
“I’d love to spend the night with you, but I have to get up early tomorrow.”
I couldn't care less that my schedule tomorrow includes perms and granny haircuts starting at 8 a.m. I'd stay up all night. Oh well. Nico says goodbye with a super tender kiss, and I'm not going home... I'm floating!
 
The next day is Friday, and Rosalie's hair has already been washed. I hastily down my coffee and push aside the little intern who's been constantly in my way for a week. I think she's a little bit in love with me; she never looks at the others. Whatever, I get to work, creating perfect waves and securing them with combs.
“Sebastian, my boy, you seem to be in a particularly good mood today.”
“I always am.”
“Of course, but today… there’s something wrong with you.”
“Everything’s fine,” I shrug and grab a comb for myself because the little intern is too slow to hand it over.
"I think there's a girl behind this. Should I be jealous?" my customer jokes.
“No girl, no reason to be jealous,” I grin.
“Well, then it’s a boy,” she replies dryly.
In shock, I throw the box of combs and curlers off the cart. The poor little intern has to pick everything up.
"Caught," Rosalie smiles. "You don't have to be embarrassed. It's nice when you're newly in love."
I can see my face turning red in the mirror. Suddenly she turns around, grabs me, and pulls me down to her.
“You’re not still in the closet, are you?”
"Please?"
“Isn’t that how you say it?”
"Yes, I mean... no, well... uh... it's not a secret."
"I thought that about you from the beginning," she claims, letting go of me so I can continue my work. "You're far too pretty to be heterosexual."
“Thank you,” I say helplessly.
By the way, the little intern just made off. Rosalie shakes her head in irritation.
"Anyway, my granddaughter's friend is a lesbian. A very nice girl. She's having a big fight with her parents about it. It's a disgrace, if you ask me. I hope Obama stays president; I can't stand Romney. What do you think, Sebastian?"
My goodness, she's got leaps of imagination.
"Yeah, sure," I nod, draping the hairnet on her head and adjusting the cap. "Would you like a cup of coffee?"
"You're pretty out of it," Rosalie barks over the roar of the hood. "I'd like a glass of champagne... like every Friday morning. It's good for the circulation," she laughs.
Incredibly, this antiquated wavy hairstyle with ringlets at the nape of her neck is in complete contrast to the modern views she undoubtedly holds. But Rosalie herself once described her hand-styled waves as "classic and timelessly chic" and believes that what matters is what's on your mind, not what hairstyle you're wearing.
 
Luckily, today was only half a day. When I get home, I'll catch up on a few hours of sleep and then finally dig into my textbook to familiarize myself with redox reactions, sulfur bridges, peptide coils, esters, and the like to the point where I'll have enough time for my upcoming exam.
 
Saturday afternoon, I realize that my handsome Italian boyfriend left a book about picture motets at my place recently. Since I can't reach him by phone at the moment and was just about to pop over to my parents' house anyway, I decide to drop the book off. The dorm is pretty much on the way, and besides, it'll give me a good excuse to see him for a few minutes and kiss him.
So, in a relatively good mood, I knock on his door and wait... what feels like five minutes. Shit, isn't he home or what?
Ah, finally the door opens and Nico appears, shirtless. How convenient.
“Hey,” I grin and look at him suggestively.
“Feli… what do you want here?”
My good mood level drops a bit.
“What kind of greeting is that?”
“Sorry, it’s just… ahem…”
“Honey…” a female voice suddenly sounds.
What the hell is going on here? I push the door further open, stomp into the room, and suddenly feel like throwing up. The bitch whose foot I once stepped on is sprawled half-naked on Nico's bed. I recognize her by her anorexic hocks.
“Sorry,” I murmur, stunned, “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“Well, then get lost,” the bitch screams.
"Vivien," Nico hisses. "Feli... wait!"
No thanks. I've seen enough.
 
The fact that I have to take a quick breather outside in the ugly entrance area turns out to be a mistake, because Nico suddenly stands next to me.
“Let me explain,” he begs… after all, he’s dressed now.
"What," I ask, "is there to explain? My probationary period is apparently over. And I failed it."
“It’s not that simple, Feli.”
True. If it were that easy, I wouldn't have this terrible heartache right now and wouldn't be on the verge of tears.
“Look,” he babbles, “I really like you and…”
“Aha, so I just imagined the bitch in your bed?”
„Vivien.“
"I don't care what it's called. By the way, has it been going on for a while?"
Nico runs his hand through his hair with effort.
“Well, actually… we’ve been together for two years…”
“Fuck you,” I hiss, spit on the ground in front of him, and quickly make my escape.
Shit, hey, Silas was right from the start and as far as I'm concerned he can punch that damn Italian in the face now!

---

And all of a sudden, everything gets on my nerves. The work, the fucking studying, Silas, from whom I've been hiding for days because I don't want him to know he was right, the almost summery weather that practically screams for me to stroll around in love... and Nico, who bombards me with calls. Does he really expect me to talk to him? After he's admitted that I was just a fling for him? Something exotic that tore him away from his boring heterosexual routine for a few weeks? Probably every time he had to do some work for his studies, he was actually in bed with his skinny-thighed chick. He had her disgusting tongue in his mouth and then came over to kiss me and give me a blowjob. I'd love to dip my cock in Clorox and gargle with Domestos.
Fuck, I should have known. You just don't get involved with a straight girl in the crazy hope that she might actually be into guys. But Nico was so... I thought he loved me. Oh well, just write it off and move on. Unfortunately, that doesn't work. Studying as a distraction doesn't work either. To be honest, I'm totally screwed. So much so that I accidentally open the door when the doorbell rings, even though I obviously don't want any visitors. Hopefully not Silas, to whom I have to confess that my boyfriend is banging a skinny chick with legs. Oh no, much better. It's my boyfriend himself. Luckily without his skinny chick with legs. I'm still anything but thrilled.
“Let’s talk again,” the Italian scoundrel begs.
“Get away from my door or I’ll call the police.”
“Feli… that’s silly.”
Well, maybe a little bit.
“Do you have any idea how I feel right now?” I hiss.
"No. But I can imagine it."
"You don't know shit. Asshole."
“Man, Feli… it wasn’t planned that… I would fall in love with you.”
"No? What was the plan?"
“I don’t want to explain that to you in passing,” he replies, and forces his way in by simply pushing me aside.
“This is trespassing,” I yell and slam the door.
"I thought it was kind of weird that a guy was into me... at first, that is. But then when we... when we first met... damn, Feli, I don't want to lose you, okay?"
“That’s why you’re fucking some bitch.”
“I should have told you about Vivien,” he admits.
"Uh, no," I counter. "You should have broken up with her before you started anything with me. That's what normal people do."
“Just because I’m with Vivien doesn’t mean… I love you too.”
“You don’t want both of us now, do you?” I ask, horrified.
“Something like that can definitely work,” he claims.
Excuse me? I think it's hacking!
“Have you already presented her with your great suggestion?”
"Vivien is pretty relaxed about it. She wouldn't have a problem with it."
He really means it. Oh dear!
"Sorry, but I'm completely unhinged when it comes to this. So get out of here and leave me alone."
“Think about it,” he suggests and leaves.
 
Hey, that guy's crazy. What am I saying... One? Several. He wants a threesome with me and that skinny bitch. If it weren't so sad, you'd have to laugh about it.
 
Okay, I'm so close to freaking out right now, I absolutely need to let off some steam. Go out, dance, drink. Drink a lot. There's a tea dance at the Crystal Palace today, and they're playing nothing but old crypt and punk stuff. Very good. I'll call Silas and make a date with him.
 
"I thought you were dead," my best friend greets me, placing two bottles of beer on the small, round table and sitting down next to me. "Why haven't you been answering my calls?"
“I was busy,” I reply briefly and drink half of the bottle.
“Fuck your Italian, huh?”
Immediately, I get a nasty stabbing pain in my chest, but I'm not drunk enough to tell Silas what happened.
“I had to study, I have an exam soon,” I say instead.
Silas looks really hot today. High-top Docs, tight jeans, a wide silver belt, and a dark, low-cut, sleeveless skull-print shirt. And as always, he's wearing a studded dog collar with a small padlock dangling from it, Sid Vicious-like.
Fittingly, “Anarchy in the UK” plays and he storms onto the dance floor.
While Silas is busy, I get more supplies at the counter.
“Man, you really want to know today,” he remarks as he returns to the table and sees the full tequila glasses.
I hastily down the swill. "You have no idea."
“What’s up?”
„Nix.“
“Aha,” he shakes his head.
 
After the umpteenth shot of tequila, I feel dangerously dizzy and finally ready to unpack.
“Nico is fucking the bitch with the skinny legs,” I slur.
"What did you expect? The guy's straight," Silas replies.
"A little more understanding from my best friend. I love Nico."
"I'm sorry, but I warned you," he shrugs. "How did you know?"
"Got him. Ingraflanti."
“Huh?” he grins.
“In… glafran… you know what I mean… infladings,” I nod and knock back another shot of tequila.
"Shit."
"The best part is yet to come. He's been with that chick for two years. You understand? I was the shitty fling, not her."
"Asshole," Silas snorts. "Can I punch him in the face?"
"No. The best is yet to come," I giggle drunkenly. "He wants... he has... he finds..."
“Boy, pull yourself together…”
“Nico suggested a threesome.”
“But he does know that you like guys, right?” Silas asks, irritated.
"I meant a three-way relationship... him, me, and his anorexic girlfriend."
“Which I hope you didn’t get involved in.”
"Of course not," I exclaim. "Do you think I'm completely stupid? I kicked him out."
"Hey, what an idiot. At rehearsals and stuff, he always acts like a serious artist, harmless and overly polite... and in private, he wants to let loose with a friend and a girlfriend."
“Yep,” I burp.
“Have you had enough?”
"No. But let's get out of here anyway, I'm feeling really sick," I mumble, standing up and holding onto the table for a moment because everything around me is spinning strangely.
Outside, I vomit all the drinks into the bushes. Afterward, I at least feel better.
I'm still a little dazed, but the nausea is gone.
 
“Do you need company?” Silas wants to know after he has brought me to my apartment.
"In any case."
“Okay,” he says, takes off his shoes and sits down on the bed next to me.
“I thought he loved me… only me,” I start whining again.
“Yes,” he sighs and puts his arm around me.
“Thank you for being here… even though you warned me.”
“That’s what you do as a best friend.”
Mmm… Silas smells really sniffly. And a little bit like alcohol. And a little bit like vanilla.
“If someone had told me at daycare that we would become friends, I would have laughed at them.”
„Hm.“
I raise my head so I can look at him.
“I liked you back then too.”
“You hated me,” he grins.
"But only because... you never wanted to play with me."
Suddenly I feel Silas' lips on mine.
Uh…?
It was only a very short kiss, but I'm still confused.
“What was that about?”
"I have no idea," he claims, and kisses me again. Longer. And with tongue.
Wait a minute, that's nonsense. I'll probably push him away.
"That's not such a good idea. I'm drunk and heartbroken."
“So what? These are the best conditions for it,” he purrs.
Thank God I still have a little brain in my head.
“Either you behave or you go home.”
Silas seems to think for a moment.
“Okay,” he says and stands up.
“Uh… you’re leaving?”
“Yeah,” he huffs, rolling his eyes, “to the kitchen… to get some candy.”

---

Nothing else has happened between Silas and me. Apart from a terrible eating binge he seduced me into, but I can live with that. It would have been really stupid to sleep with my best friend out of frustration. Otherwise, things are obviously anything but rosy at the moment. Unfortunately, feelings can't just be turned off. I miss the handsome Italian, I'm still angry and disappointed... and madly in love. That's why I'm currently working on a new plan, because the first one worked so well. The plan is to pretend to agree to Nico's completely stupid suggestion to show him that his suggestion is completely stupid and that I'm the only person he should be with. Hey, that stupid bitch will never love him as much as I love him. And Nico needs to realize that. And fast. That's why I head straight to the dorm in the early evening.
 
Nico is sitting in the common room with his bitch. The usual harem is absent.
“Feli,” he smiles in surprise.
“I’ve been thinking,” I say, getting straight to the point.
“Congratulations,” the bitch sneers.
“We should try it.”
"You mean …?"
I nod and sit down next to the Italian.
"Cool. I'm glad you thought about it."
“I am too.”
"Fuck off anyway. Today is my day," the bitch claims.
She'll definitely shoot herself in the foot with her rudeness.
"First, we should agree on this together, and secondly... I think we should show each other a certain degree of courtesy if we're going to make this work."
“Smartass.”
"Feli's right," MY friend nods. "If you don't feel like it, you can always opt out."
Mir kommt fast die Kotze hoch. Der redet über diese ganze Sache, als hätten wir beschlossen, einen Verein oder so was zu gründen. Jetzt bloß nicht die Beherrschung verlieren, sonst ist alles im Arsch!
„Hi, ich bin Feli“, lächele ich falsch und reiche Frl. Haxe meine Hand, „sorry, wir hatten wohl einen etwas schlechten Start. Frieden?“
Frl. Haxe lächelt genauso falsch zurück und schüttelt meine Hand. „Vivien, und ja, von mir aus, Frieden.“
„Na, seht ihr ... es geht doch“, behauptet Nico zufrieden, während er uns beide im Arm hat.
Was er nicht sieht, sind die Blicke, die Frl. Haxe und ich uns zuschmeißen und die ganz deutlich sagen: Du bist totes Fleisch! Ich bete, dass Silas nicht aus Versehen hier vorbeilatscht und diese Freakshow mitkriegt. Zuzutrauen wäre es ihm, der hängt öfters hier rum, weil er hier tausend Leute kennt. Die Haxen-Tussi griffelt übrigens inzwischen besitzergreifend am schönen Italiener rum. Blöde Graupe! Ich kann besser verführen. Unaufdringlich streichele ich sein Knie und lasse meine Fingerspitzen langsam seinen Schenkel hinauf wandern. Nico seufzt leise als ich sein Ohrläppchen küsse. Sein Arm verlässt die Schultern der Zicke und schlängelt sich um meine Taille.
„Können wir ... irgendwo allein sein?“, flüstere ich.
„Okay“, wispert er.
„Nico!“, kreischt Frl. Haxe schrill. „Wir wollten doch …“
„Morgen, Süße“, unterbricht er sie, nimmt meine Hand und zieht mich von der Couch.
Buahahahaha! Feli: 1000 Punkte. Zicke: 0!
 
Logischerweise kann ich nicht mit Nico in das Bett gehen, in dem er mit seiner Trulla gelegen hat, weswegen wir zum Knutschen und Kuscheln mein Bett nehmen. So schön es auch ist, ihn im Arm zu haben … ein merkwürdiges Gefühl bleibt.
„Ich weiß, dass ich viel von euch beiden verlange“, flüstert er und streichelt meine Wange, „aber mich zwischen euch entscheiden zu müssen, wäre Wahnsinn.“
Keine Ahnung, was ich dazu sagen soll, also halte ich die Klappe und küsse ihn. Bloß nicht drüber nachdenken, dass er morgen wahrscheinlich wieder seine Freundin küssen wird.
"I'm really sorry I wasn't honest with you. And that you... found out about Vivien and me that way. You believe me, I never meant to hurt you, right?"
"Then why didn't you tell me sooner?"
“I was just so happy with you,” he replies.
“Did she know?”
"Not right away. But after we slept together, I told her."
How nice for the bitch that she didn't have to grope in the dark for weeks.
"Let's not talk about Vivien. I'm with you now, okay?" he purrs, running his fingers down my bare torso and kissing my neck. As his hand moves further down... well, I forget about the leg chick for the moment.

---

My plan isn't really working. On the contrary, Nico thinks things are going great. I think there's something seriously wrong with his head. And with me too, because I'm going along with all this. I don't tell him that I go crazy with jealousy when he's with his girlfriend. I also don't tell him that the thought of him kissing and cuddling her causes me almost physical pain. I try to enjoy the time we spend together. Amazingly, I'm managing it quite well. I wonder if I might be schizophrenic.
 
Silas hasn't been around for a while, which is good because I don't have to talk to him about unpleasant things. He wouldn't understand anyway. To distract myself, I've been studying like crazy and I'm not feeling the slightest bit nervous about the written exam next week. Oh well, and practice isn't a problem anyway. Nico gave me a little stuffed ladybug... for good luck. Even though I don't really need something like that because he thinks I'll pass the exam anyway. Still, it's really sweet. And when he does sweet things like that, all I can do is throw my arms around him in love instead of kicking him for not wanting to choose me.
 
Today is knuckle bitch day and I'm in a bad mood when the doorbell rings.
Something shaggy and colorful-haired is trudging up the stairs in heavy shoes. Great, I could really use Silas right now.
“What do you want here?” I ask, accidentally and very rudely.
“What kind of shitty greeting is that?” he asks back.
“Sorry, I’m studying,” I lie.
“Still heartbroken, huh?” he guesses, sits down on the couch and lights a cigarette.
I put an ashtray in front of him and sit down too.
"Forget it. He's already got it."
"Please?"
"Your Italian stallion is making out with a woman."
"Oh yes?"
"Yes. So forget him."
Shit, I can't lie to Silas about important things. How I'm supposed to tell him this important thing, though, is beyond me. It's best if I just tell it like it is.
“Nico is with both of us.”
Silas opens his eyes in disbelief.
“We decided to try it with three people,” I clarify.
"Oh shit," he shakes his head, "as soon as you take care of your own business for a few days, you start doing stupid things. What makes you think you're participating in this shit? Do you have no self-respect, or what?"
"This has nothing to do with self-respect. We've talked it out, he loves me, and... everything's fine."
"Feli, that's bullshit. Are you hoping he'll break up with his chick after all? He won't. The guy's straight."
“Oh, so that’s why he sleeps with me.”
"And he obviously doesn't give a shit how you feel when he sleeps with his chick."
"Like I said, it's fine. And that's the end of the matter."
Silas, of course, has no intention of leaving me alone.
"Threesome stories don't work. One always gets left behind."
"Would you please stop now? Thanks," I huff, pissed off.
“Okay, but don’t cry in my ear when you find out that…”
“And don’t cry in my ear because your parents like New Year’s Eve more than you,” I interrupt him.
"Wow... did you suddenly turn into an asshole, or did it creep up on me without me noticing? Anyway..." he stands up and puts on his jacket, "see you sometime." Bang, he slams the door behind him.
Great, now I've scared away my best friend.

---

I could puke all over myself. But it all started off perfectly. With a written exam that was so easy that I got nervous and frantically searched for trick questions. But there weren't any, or at least I couldn't find any. The practical part was hell. My male model didn't show up, so I'm going to kill the guy as soon as I run into him. First, though, I had to run... through the entire school to find a new, suitable model. Luckily, it was a vocational school day, when mostly nannies and housekeepers were there. The only boy I found with sufficiently grown-out short hair had to be coaxed and begged for minutes, which of course took up all my time. The fucking examiners only had five minutes of sympathy. But that wasn't hell, because I managed to get the haircut perfect despite everything. Unfortunately, I totally messed up my female model. The color didn't turn out as documented, and the hair and makeup looked pretty awful. The next day, when the lady presented herself to her, my boss also thought the coloring was a complete mess, but she said that if everything else went well, it would definitely be enough. I should think positively... the cut was fine. Yeah, right, she didn't notice how badly I blow-dried and styled my hair! Rosalie was of the opinion that I should have done hand-swept waves anyway... which I actually wanted to, but my boss thought it was too risky because the examiners would look at something like that particularly critically. What the heck! Now it's over, and all I can do is hope.
 
Of course, I'd love to be cheered up by my lovely Italian, but he's busy with Miss Haxe. This arrangement is really starting to get on my nerves.
Luckily, Silas is taking over the cheering up this weekend. First, we dance and drink at the Crystal Palace, then we hang out at my place and eat sweets.
“I think the Italian stallion should urgently set other priorities,” explains Silas, chewing.
“Stop it,” I sigh and lean comfortably against him.
"It's true. He can fuck his chick tomorrow or the day after."
"Silas," I growl.
"How do you stand it? I'd go crazy. And don't tell me everything's great again, I know you."
"Okay, I mind. Satisfied?"
"Then that shit isn't for you," he sums it up perfectly. "And I can't believe his chick doesn't mind."
To make him finally shut up, I simply stuff a piece of marshmallow into his mouth.
"It's no use. I'll still say my opinion."
Annoyed, I move away from him.
"Fuck you, Silas. I didn't ask for your opinion."
"Hey, is it my fault that your boyfriend is having fun with his girlfriend instead of being with you?"
“You don’t need to add salt.”
“Obviously you can’t understand it any other way.”
"You don't understand something. Namely, that I love Nico and..." I can't say anything further because he kisses me. "And what was that all about?"
He just shrugs and kisses me again. Longer. And with tongue. Shit, I have déjà vu! And a boyfriend, which I immediately remind Silas of when he stops kissing me.
"A friend who's currently in bed with his girlfriend. Equal rights for all," he says.
Hell, why not? Silas is cute, I like him, and the sex we had three years ago was incredible. I don't think he's lost any of that. On the other hand, the idea is just as crazy as it was a few weeks ago. Crazier, even, because I'm with Nico today. Oh man, Silas took off his shirt and is giving me a bedroom look... he's pretty sure of himself. Mmm... the temptation to touch his soft skin is truly enormous.
“How much encouragement do you actually need?” he asks, slowly unbuttoning his jeans.
Okay, that's enough.
 
Oh... wow, that sex was incredibly hot. Still breathing heavily, I snuggle up to the warm body next to me and try to calm down.
“Shit, Feli,” Silas laughs quietly, “I had completely forgotten what a cuddly toy you are after sex.”
“You started it,” I purr, “so don’t complain.”
“That was just a statement,” he smiles, wrapping his arms tighter around me.
“That something like this would happen to us again…”
"I actually thought you were hot the whole time."
“But you never even mentioned that.”
“Because we decided…”
“Yes,” I interrupt, “but maybe I wouldn’t have minded casual sex.”
Silas moves away from me and stares at me in disbelief.
“Hey, and you’re only telling me this now?”
I kiss him, then snuggle back into his arms and fall asleep.
 
When I wake up the next morning, Silas is gone, but my guilty conscience is still there. Damn it, I slept with my best friend out of frustration, I'm a walking cliché! And a thousand questions are piling up in front of me like mountains. What does Silas think about this? Should I tell Nico that I basically cheated on him? How will he react? What was Silas thinking, taking such shameless advantage of my condition? Why couldn't I pull myself together? Why the hell do I still have a boyfriend who won't part from his scrawny bitch for the life of me? I urgently need to talk to Silas. If he sees Nico at university or at rehearsals and happily blurts out that he slept with me... oh shit! Great, his phone is off.
 
Okay, first I'll get up and have a coffee. Then I'll go to my parents' house to do the laundry. In between, I keep trying Silas' phone... to no avail.
He's unavailable all day Saturday. Nico, too, by the way. He's spending the weekend with his bitchy parents because it's Mama Haxe's birthday or something. So what? Can't he even talk to me for a few seconds? Great friends, really!
 
Sunday afternoon is getting to me. I go to Silas, and if he doesn't open the door right now, he's in for a treat, the bastard! When he does open the door, something very strange happens. I really don't know what it is... maybe it's the hickeys on his neck that are clearly my fault, or that he doesn't think it necessary to hide them under a scarf like any normal person would... but my heart suddenly starts pounding and I suddenly feel all tingly. The memory of Friday night flashes through my mind... Silas kissing me, Silas licking my nipples, Silas giving me a blowjob, Silas... STOP! I gather the last shred of common sense, tell him to shut up about Nico, that the sex with him was some kind of accident, that it doesn't mean anything, and... I get out of there.

---

My boss has given me a real hard time. Because I shuffle around the salon in such a grumpy mood. If she knew what's going on in my private life at the moment, she'd probably say that my private life has no place at work. Hey, I'm really pulling myself together, I'm nice and friendly to the grannies even though I want to shoot them all to the moon, but I just can't make funny small talk with them right now. You have to be understanding. Nico doesn't know that I cheated on him, but he thinks that Miss Haxe and I should get to know each other better because it gets on his nerves that we're always talking badly about each other in front of him. What does he expect? That the three of us hold hands and walk through a colorful meadow full of flowers? I hate that bitch, she hates me too, that's completely normal. The bitch isn't as relaxed about the three-way relationship as Nico claimed. I've noticed that she's always busy with something important when Nico should be with me. Either she needs help with a chore, or she's getting sick, or something else. Scheming little shit! And now I'm supposed to waste the little time I have with my boyfriend on her, too? To avoid even more stress, I'm playing along. Because I'm still hoping that Nico will eventually realize that the bitch is a pig and finally dump her so she can be with me.
 
By the way, my strange horniness for Silas has vanished since Nico started cuddling with me again, and even out of the ordinary. Yesterday, he canceled on his Haxe chick for a change, because they see each other much more often anyway, and because he misses me. Nevertheless, Miss Haxe called twice, and Nico turned off his cell phone afterward.
Next Saturday, he wants to go out with her and me. To the Crystal Palace, because the bitch likes spooky music. So what? That doesn't make her my best friend... even though the Italian would like that.
 
On Saturday, the bitch is unwell. Migraine or something. Ha, ha, she just doesn't feel like spending a cozy evening with her boyfriend's friend. She probably assumed Nico would spend the whole evening pampering her... wrong. He's going out with me! At the Crystal Palace, we first run into Silas, who fortunately has some gothic boy in tow, so he refrains from making out with me. Nico holds my hand, hugs, and kisses me every now and then when I get back from dancing, and I should be happy. However... when I see Silas flirting and cuddling with his gothic boy... it somehow bothers me. I just don't know why. After all, I've seen Silas making out with guys before, so that can't be it. Maybe I'm just jealous because he'll probably have his guy all to himself, while my guy... well. At least the bitch isn't bothering me with calls today. Anyway, Nico spends the night in my bed and when he starts kissing and touching me, I once again completely block out anything unpleasant.

---

The exam results are in. Yay... I failed. I was afraid of that, but when I get it in black and white like that... I'm really screwed.
I can't even console myself with the fact that I passed the theory part with a B, but in the practical part, it was actually just the fucking female model who broke my neck. Failure is failure. My boss, the old positive thinker, doesn't think it's all that dramatic. I should just stick with it for another six months and that'll be it. She doesn't have to find a new model and do the whole thing again. Oh, and my three fellow trainees passed, of course, and are happily swigging glasses of champagne to celebrate their success. I could blow them all away!
 
Nico is sweet. When I get home and call him, he drops everything to be with me. He gives me a box of consolation chocolates and also says there's no shame in having to extend my stay for another six months. My parents, my sister, and Silas all say similar things over the next few days. It's really sweet of them to try to cheer me up like that... but the disappointment is deep.
Rosalie is somehow the only one who understands me.
"You can sugarcoat it all you want, but it doesn't change the facts," she explains. "I feel sorry for you, Sebastian."
“Thank you,” I nod dejectedly.
"But it doesn't help to complain. Look ahead and do what you think is right, and it'll work out next time," she smiles. "Do you have a new model yet?"
"No. I spent the week feeling sorry for myself," I sigh.
"You have to do that sometimes. But that's enough now."
“It’s just not that easy to find something suitable.”
“And why don’t you ask me?”
“Ahem…”
"Don't worry, I didn't mean to suggest myself," she laughs, "maybe if I were a hundred years younger... but my granddaughter's friend might be something. I'll just ask her if she'd be up for it, okay?"
“Uh… okay.”
It can't hurt.
 
Rosalie's granddaughter's friend actually wants to do it. When she walks into the salon, I'm more than thrilled. She's a perfect fit because her style is exactly what I need... namely burlesque... and because she has a very beautiful, classic 1930s pin-up face. Pia is also thrilled that I don't want to make her into something completely different and immediately starts working on the concept, suggesting clothes she could wear, and so on. Oh well, and my boss is also slowly realizing that I'm not going to shoot myself in the foot with a wavy hairstyle after all.
 
“Are you into women lately?” asks Silas, who spontaneously visits me in the evening.
“Sure, my homosexuality was just a cover,” I roll my eyes.
"I'm just saying... the way you were raving."
“Pia is a lesbian, so a relationship would be doomed from the start.”
“Who knows, your Italian is actually straight too, so from that point of view…”
Great, as soon as he gets here, he has to remind me that Nico is busy with his knuckle chick today.
"So? When is the big meeting of the two lovers?"
“If it were up to me… never.”
“Well, unfortunately, things rarely go your way in your strange relationship.”
“And what about your goth boy?” I change the subject.
„Patrick?“
"I have no idea what the name of the guy you've been seeing for weeks is."
"Patrick," he nods, ruffling his now-green hair with a sigh. "I'm trying to find a way to break up with him in the most elegant way possible."
"How come?"
“Because he’s getting on my nerves with his nonsense about love, loyalty, and relationships.”
"Ah, he wants to put you on a leash, huh?" I grin. "Tame the tiger."
“There is only one person I would let put me on a leash,” he replies quietly.
"Really? Someone I know?"
Silas looks at me. For a few seconds. And smiles somehow... sadly... or pityingly... or both. Oh no! My head suddenly feels so dizzy... it feels like my brain just slipped out of place and then snapped back into place. Oh, my goodness!
“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” I ask, shocked.
"When? How? We just wanted to be friends, remember? Hey, don't make that face, I'm totally fine with it."
Well, how nice for him.
“Sorry, but… I don’t know if I can handle this.”
Especially when I think about the fact that we had sex.
"What's going to change? You didn't even notice, so it doesn't matter."
What a load of crap! When did my life start getting so damn complicated? And... what's next? Thank you very much, I don't even want to know.
"Can we please just treat each other normally? I don't want any arguments between us," he explains.
"Then you shouldn't have told me that..."
“Goodness me,” he huffs, “it’s not like I cry into my pillow every night.”
"Rather?"
"I've come to terms with it. Besides, friendship is more important anyway."
Crazy, I actually didn't realize that Silas obviously wanted more from me. But he hid it really well. And now? I mean... I can't tell him anything about Nico and me anymore because it hurts him that I love Nico and not him. Likewise, I can't just cuddle up to him so comfortably anymore.
"Okay, I'll go then," he says, standing up. "See you later."
 
I'm kind of relieved he's gone. Still, my head is spinning. After all, it's not every day that your best friend throws a declaration of love at you. Yes... if it weren't for Nico, I might consider starting something with Silas. I don't know, I've obviously never thought about it.

---

"You already agreed to it. Why are you resisting it now?"
Nico wants to meet up with the three of us again, but I'm not in the mood for that.
"What's the point? I'm with you, not your chick."
"It would be a huge step in the right direction if you stopped calling her "Titty." Her name is Vivien."
"I don't give a shit," I fume, "I don't want to meet her. What makes you dreamer think we all get along so well? By the way, why hasn't she called you five times yet? After all, you've been here for half an hour."
"That's exactly why I want you to get to know each other. So you understand that I don't favor either of you, and that neither of you is taking anything away from the other. I love you both."
"Tell her that. I won't make any nuisance calls when you're with her... whatever."
"I talked to Vivien about how this has to stop. And as you can see, she's sticking to it. Now if you could just stop your childish behavior..."
"Childish behavior?" I yell angrily. "I'm acting childish because I don't want to share you? You have no idea how hard all this is to endure. Seriously, as if I don't have enough other problems."
“Feli, I never forced you to do anything.”
"But you didn't exactly give me a choice. Either I accept your chick or I can fuck off."
“I didn’t say that, did I?”
“But it all comes down to the same thing.”
Sighing, he reaches for my hand and gently strokes my fingers.
"Look, this isn't easy for me either. I never thought it was possible to love two people at the same time. And certainly not a man. But it's the way it is, and I don't want to lose you under any circumstances."
Still pissed off, I pull my fin away, whereupon Nico carefully wraps his arms around me.
“Please, I don’t want to argue with you,” he whispers and kisses my earlobe.
"One meeting. And if that goes wrong, you leave me alone with the issue."
“Okay,” he nods, smiling, and kisses me on the mouth.
 
Thursday is modeling afternoon at the salon, so there are no clients... that's the only thing I'm looking forward to right now. Pia has such a way about her that you immediately feel good around her. Although not everything is rosy in her life either. She's cut off contact with her parents because they can't accept that she's attracted to women.
"Of course it hurts," she says, as the red dye takes effect on her head, "but it's my life. Should I be unhappy just to please them?"
“Maybe they need a little time to understand that.”
"You don't know my parents," she smiles, pained. "To my father, I'm a slut who sleeps with any whore who comes along."
“Oh dear, that’s bad.”
"However."
Man, I'm once again happy and grateful that I have such great parents! They were shocked for a moment when I told them I was into boys, but Dad was the first to say that the world wouldn't end because of that. It took Mom a few weeks to digest the news. My sister was great; she showed our mom an internet forum where parents of gay children talk, and... yeah, she talked there. And realized that she loves her children, no matter who they love.
Speaking of love... Silas hasn't contacted me in days. On the one hand, I think that's good because it allows me to suppress his confession. On the other hand, I'm terrified that our friendship is going downhill.
Luckily, the ringing of the alarm clock pulls me out of my thoughts. Now it's time to wash out the color, perm, do makeup, style, then take a photo for my exam folder and call it a day.
 
On Friday, I hope the bitch spontaneously gets sick again. Unfortunately, hope is always a tricky thing... the bitch is completely healthy. Shit, damn it. Oh well, it's only one evening, and it won't last forever. With the fake cheerfulness I've cultivated for years in the salon, I wait outside the Crystal Palace for my boyfriend and his girlfriend. Too bad I didn't get a quick drink at home... never mind, we can easily make up for it in there. Ah, the handsome Italian is approaching... hand in hand with the chick with the knuckle. Cool, this isn't a bad start. At least I get a welcoming kiss, and I give the bitch a quick nod. Nico is beaming, as if it's perfectly normal to go to a club in such a constellation.
When we actually go inside, another suspicion occurs to me. Nico is practically enjoying having a guy by one hand and a chick by the other. Honestly, he's shambling through the gloomy place with us both like he's the absolute star. He doesn't seem to notice that the bitch is looking just as gloomy as I am. Or maybe he doesn't care, because other people are staring at us with interest. Right now, Nico would probably be better off on a catwalk. Even when we finally sit down at a table, he takes turns kissing me and the bitch. My goodness, I've never been made fun of so much in my entire life! I need alcohol. Urgently and a lot. Because my parents taught me manners somewhere along the way, I buy the bitch a drink too; she seems to need something strong too. So: tequila for everyone... and double and triple for me!
Nico's hand rests on the anorexic, bitchy thigh, the other hand scratches my neck... I drink myself into a somewhat bearable situation and occasionally escape to the dance floor. The bitchy girl pursues a similar strategy. Nico feels completely at ease and is probably the only one in the group.
 
After what felt like five hours, the Italian suddenly announced: “Vivien has had enough, I’d better take her home right away.”
What the Fuck …?
“I’ve had enough too, will you take me home right away?”
“Not today,” he shakes his head regretfully.
Great, I endured this shit and then I don't even get a decent fuck?
“But you can sleep with us if you want.”
Cool, and now I have something on my ears too!
“On the floor or what?”
“Vivien has a big bed,” smiles Nico.
Too bad, I thought I had just misheard.
“Thanks, I’m not into threesomes,” I explain and quickly disappear.
 
It's only logical that I can't go home immediately after this. I'm far too stunned. And too drunk. So I try my luck with Silas. The main thing is that he's there and doesn't have Patrick with him. Didn't he want to break up with him anyway? Whatever. I ring the bell, and the door is opened.
"Feli, it's a thousand o'clock," he grumbles, "are you drunk or something? Why are you ringing so persistently?"
Too many questions. Wordlessly, I throw myself onto the couch. Silas sits down next to me. Man, he smells good.
“I had a terrifically shitty evening at the thing… Crystal Palace.”
“And?” he shrugs.
“With Nico and his chick.”
"Yes."
"Can I stay here? I really don't want to be alone right now," I sigh, snuggling up to him a little.
"If you have to," he replies, pushing me away. "I'll get you a blanket and a pillow."
I hope he doesn't mean I should sleep on the couch... anyway, I follow him into the bedroom and throw my arms around him.
“What’s going on?”
Instead of answering him, I let my hands wander over his body, pushing him toward the bed and fumbling with the buttons on his jeans until Silas stops me.
“Stop that shit,” he hisses angrily.
I try to kiss him, but he violently stops me. Damn, the fact that he's resisting somehow makes it even more... interesting.
"I'm serious, Feli. Go to your Italian restaurant if you need it."
"He's with that bitch," I mutter. "And besides... Nico's a kitty, and I..." I throw myself at him, grabbing him like crazy, "I need a tiger. Come on, get your claws out and hurt me!"
Silas hurts me by pushing me away so hard that I almost fall off the bed and onto the floor.
"Okay, let's just forget that you're acting like an asshole, okay? Stay here for all I care, I'll take the couch."
He grabs a pillow and slams the door.
 
The next morning, I feel very uncomfortable. First, I have a terrible headache, and second, unfortunately, I can't remember anything. I remember damn well that I was totally harassing Silas. And also the pussycat bullshit I was babbling. Oh my goodness! If I were Silas, I would have kicked him out and ended our friendship.
I mean, he confesses to me that he's kind of in love with me, and I have nothing better to do than want to go to bed with him because Nico wasn't there.
Completely exhausted, I shuffle into the kitchen. Silas is sitting at the table drinking coffee.
“Hey,” I wheeze.
“Don’t do that again.”
“I’m sorry, I was…”
"Drunk," he interrupts. "Still. I can do without that shit."
“I… uh… I’ll go then,” I say cautiously.
“It’s probably better.”
“Okay, see you then.”
 
Like a beaten dog, I sneak home, lie down in bed and annoy myself.

---

I've come to the conclusion that my studies are more important than my personal life at the moment. So I told Nico that I needed a break from him. To think about whether I even wanted or could still handle this threesome thing. Nico was horrified and has been sending me a text message about every two days since then, telling me how much he missed me, how he loved me, and so on. Silas, on the other hand, immediately understood that I didn't want to see him for a while either. I'm still uncomfortable with my drunken appearance in front of him; I need time to let the grass grow over it. Of course, I miss both of them... in different ways, but I think it's the right decision. The fact that the bitch has now won, at least temporarily, is kind of annoying when I imagine how triumphantly she'll wrap her skinny legs and thin little arms around my beautiful Italian. Oh well, as long as he still misses me, it's bearable.
I met up with Pia a few times out of the ordinary... for cake in a cozy grandma's café... and told her a lot about Nico. She thinks three-way relationships are fine if everyone involved is happy with them, which, however, isn't the case for me, so I should draw the only logical conclusion: break up!
 
On a very autumnal Friday evening, my doorbell rings. I awkwardly dig myself out of my cozy, fluffy blanket and open it, hoping it might be Nico, who's missing me so much he couldn't stand it any longer. But the heavy shoes trudging up the stairs only fit with... ah... you guessed it... stringy, colorful hair and the clinking of bracelets.
„Silas.“
He swings a bottle of wine and stumbles over the last step... not a good sign.
“Hey, kitten, are you okay?” he barks at me.
Hmm, it seems to be fuller than his wine bottle.
"I broke our agreement. It's an emergency," he claims, gracefully slithering past me, throwing his jacket on the floor, and himself onto the couch like a wet sack.
By the way, wet is a perfect description... it's raining outside.
“Hey,” I scream, “are you crazy?”
“Sorry,” he mumbles, kicking his shoes off, “do you have a towel?”
Even two towels. I tuck one under his wet ass and use the other to dry his wet hair.
“That’s sure to give me a bad cold,” I remark.
“I warmed myself from the inside,” he grins and knocks back his booze.
“What happened?”
“Dinner with the family.”
Oh, I see.
"Silvester introduced his girlfriend. Karina is studying law. And I'm a gay punk who does something completely useless. If I at least had a guy with a lot of money, maybe that would make Mom and Dad gracious. Hey, Silvester, the bum, the perfect little bitch always has to go one step further, which makes him even more fucking perfect."
"You love the perfect little bitch."
"Yeah, so what? It still pisses me off. Karina is disgustingly nice and pretty and smart. Man, and how fucking in love they are... you should have seen the way they were swoony. Needless to say, my parents were practically kissing the ground Karina was walking on in delight. I was practically invisible," he sniffs.
“Should I make you some hot cocoa, sweetie?” I ask, patting his head.
"Yes, please. But only if you have cookies with it."
 
When I return to the living room with cocoa and cookies, his neon-colored striped sweater is lying next to his leather jacket. Silas has snuggled up in my blanket and is flipping through the TV channels. He gets stuck on the worst vampire movie of all time. Bella and Edward... I secretly fish for the remote.
“Let’s go, I want to see the Fuckward,” he squeals, sounding silly like a little girl.
Whatever! I'll slip under the covers with him, drink my hot chocolate, and keep my mouth shut.
"The movie is so terrible," he says... more than once. "It's crazy, that chick really only has one facial expression."
“But instead, a friend who sparkles in the sun.”
“Who wouldn’t want that?”
“Uh… me?” I suggest.
“You have an Italian stallion with a bitchy leg, your opinion doesn’t count here.”
Immediately I feel a nasty stabbing pain in the area of my heart.
“Sorry, wrong topic, huh?”
“Absolutely.”
“Have you finally shot him down?”
"Not really," I sigh. "We're still on break."
"It's all bullshit. Hey, why do those pumped-up muscle werewolves always run through the woods topless and in cut-off jeans? I don't understand it."
“So you can see her pumped-up muscles, I guess.”
Silas has now snuggled up to me very tightly and for reasons I can't explain, my stomach starts to flutter and my heart beats a little faster.
"Uh... Feli? Why are you fiddling with my pants?"
“Because your spikes are digging into my flesh,” I reply, throwing his two belts to the ground.
“Your shirt is scratching my skin…can I take that off too?”
"No."
"Okay, if I get a rash on my face, it's your fault," he mutters reproachfully, rubbing his cheek against my chest. Meanwhile, the Fuckward, frustrated that he couldn't protect his Bella-ish girl, wants to go out in the sun to sparkle. Unfortunately, this isn't dramatic; it's laughable... like the entire movie. Silas' hand, which is resting on my stomach, slowly slides under my shirt. I embarrassingly moan for a moment as his fingernails lightly scratch my skin. He obviously takes this as some kind of invitation, because his lips join his fingers. My eyes close, my fingers ruffle through his hair... his fingers undo the buttons on my jeans. Silas slides down a bit, fiddles provocatively with my pants, and starts giving me a blowjob. That's about until I pull him up to me, wrap my arms and legs around him, and kiss him hungrily.
 
"You idiot," I whisper, lightly biting Silas' shoulder, "now I've missed the end because of you."
“What a loss,” he replies, stretching with pleasure.

---

“I slept with Silas.”
Nico, who was just about to kiss me, stops in horror.
„Was?“
“You understood me.”
"That was the reason for the break, right?" he fumes. "So you could fuck around with that lousy punk in peace."
Okay, I didn't expect him to be happy about it, but to go off like that...
"And you're in a position to accuse me? You're always fucking your chick..."
“Not behind your back.”
“Yes, of course that makes it better.”
“And not one that gives you all kinds of diseases.”
"Silas used a condom, so the risk that I got something is relatively low."
“I don’t find that particularly funny.”
"If you don't have time for me because you're making your chick happy, I won't burst into tears of laughter."
"That's not how it works," he shakes his head. "You can't suddenly change the rules of the game."
"It's good to know you see our relationship as a game."
"I didn't mean it like that, you know damn well," he hisses. "I love you, and if you secretly have sex with whoever, it hurts me."
"I'm sorry. But maybe now you'll get an idea of how I feel."
"So you just wanted to hurt me?"
"No. Revenge isn't my thing."
“Feli,” he begins, reaching for my hands, “I promise I’ll have more time for you from now on, okay?”
“And what about… Vivien?”
“She will have to accept this.”
Well, what can I say? His promise calms me down so much that I allow him to cuddle with me for the rest of the evening.
The next evening too. And the night after that, too.
 
When Nico has to take care of his bitch again, I meet up with Silas.
And he apparently looks so handsome that my stomach is churning. Or maybe I ate something wrong, but I can't remember that, so it's his fault. Shit!
This totally inappropriate euphoria that always sets in after we have sex has to stop!
"Oh, Aunt Heike has struck again," I remark after he has taken off his jacket. Silas is wearing a baggy, colorful knitted sweater that I have never seen. Silas actually loves wearing funny knitted sweaters in all colors and variations, all of which are made by his Aunt Heike. In her free time, Aunt Heike works in the sweets industry... she owns a shop like that. And she loves her eccentric nephew dearly. Of course, she loves New Year's Eve just as much, but he's just not the type for knitted outerwear. The fact that Silas is constantly eating up MY sweets when he's supposed to be the one producing them... well, okay.
“Cool, huh?” he grins, takes off his black scarf and wants to kiss me.
My instinct is to stop him, but then the crazy butterflies frolicking in my stomach win. Mmm… he tastes like chocolate.
"Here, I brought you something," he smiles, waving a bag of chocolates in front of me. "Best wishes from Aunt Heike."
“How many of these have you eaten on the way here?”
"Just three. Sorry, but I'm like a hummingbird... if I can't eat something sweet every fifteen minutes, I'll starve."
I put the chocolates away in the cupboard and am still struggling with the butterflies. Or maybe they've turned into a hummingbird by now. Hey, that's not normal. Especially because I love Nico. On the other hand, he's known for playing both sides, so why can't I… no, I know how it feels to have to share. That's why I don't let Silas kiss me again, but tell him what's going on.
“Nico and I have finished our break.”
“Ah, I see, there’s the emergency solution,” he points to himself, “deregistered.”
"That's not fair. You knew we weren't really broken up. And you started last week."
"Sure, just blame me for always digging me out when things aren't going well with your Italian stallion," he replies.
“That’s not the case at all.”
“It sure seems that way to me.”
“But it’s still not true.”
"Then tell me what it's like. I'm all ears."
Fuck, he's kind of right.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble.
“I can’t buy anything with that,” he huffs, puts on his jacket and leaves.
So, that's exactly why we decided to just be friends three years ago. Because sex makes everything difficult, complicated, and ultimately ruins everything.

---

It's almost unbearable in the salon. Christmas decorations everywhere. Normally, that doesn't bother me because I love the Christmas season. Sipping hot chocolate and nibbling cinnamon stars by candlelight in the evening, snuggled up in a soft blanket... or strolling hand in hand with my boyfriend through the Christmas market, eating roasted almonds and candy floss... it's all great. I've loved the fact that the Christmas market is practically on our doorstep in the salon for the past few years. But this year, I just can't seem to get into the Christmas spirit. The crappy jingle of the antique-looking carousel that I have to pass on my way home from work, the glittering stalls, the Christmas carols that you constantly hear when customers come into the shop... it's so annoying!
 
At the moment, however, the tinkling in the church is even more annoying. Nico, on the other hand, is completely entranced. I don't have anything against Baroque or Renaissance music in a beautiful setting, but this concert already feels like five hours. And the musicians just keep going. A little while ago, when they'd finished a piece and were about to start a new one, Nico's cell phone rang. That was rather embarrassing, because twenty heads turned towards us. I was very glad that Nico didn't answer, but turned off his phone. He should have thought of it sooner. So, as I said, I'm really susceptible to harpsichord tinkling and such every now and then... but since we've been together, Nico has probably dragged me to every concert of this or a similar kind, and I've had enough of it. I would have even been happy if he'd brought his Haxen-Hulda with him today. She probably doesn't like events like this, which is why I have to suffer every time. The Haxen probably only listens to Rammstein and Unheilig and some other awful crap like that. And she's probably into Twilight! Oh God... Twilight... a shaggy punk in a colorful sweater immediately pops into my head.
 
Speaking of which... inspired by Henry the One-and-something and his legendary walk to Canossa, I threw myself into my penitential robes, threw myself in the dust before Silas, heaped a bucket of ashes on my head, begged a thousand times for forgiveness, and he... let me stew for days, but then mercifully forgave me. Sort of. We talk on the phone now and then, and it feels normal, but he doesn't want to meet with me. I fear our friendship has suffered a rift that will never be mended. Not entirely, anyway.
 
Oh good, the musicians are finally finished, for which I briefly thank God... after all, I'm in exactly the right location for it. And because the concert started at six and actually "only" lasted two hours, Nico wants to drink some mulled wine at the Christmas market. So we head outside into the cold (incidentally, it was freezing cold in the church too), walk past various food and drink stalls, and stand at a round table near the mulled wine hut. So I stand there and Nico joins the queue. It takes a while until he comes back. Unfortunately, he brought me a cup of booze. Shit, I hate mulled wine! By the way, Silas would never stand anywhere at a Christmas market and drink mulled wine. Silas and I always used to drink hot winter tea from Pfanner at home because it tastes delicious, like warm fruit jam. Well, my boyfriend is just different. I'm just noticing how different he is for the first time. Nico is undoubtedly freaky. But in a totally different way than Silas and me, for example. Honestly, I'm almost embarrassed to have to hang around a mulled wine stand. I hope no one I know walks by.
After the Christmas market, we go to my place and spend a cozy evening cuddling, and on Saturday I can be bored to death because Nico is with his knuckle-bitch.
 
The salon is incredibly busy next week... every grandma in town wants a quick perm before Christmas. It's sickening. Even more sickening, however, is the fact that Nico is spending Christmas with his parents... with his bitch, of course... and then with his presumably future in-laws. I obviously have no business being with his family, and there's no time for me at Christmas anyway. Okay, I can understand that Nico doesn't want to quickly confess to his parents that he has a gay friend besides that bitch, but he didn't want to come to my family either. Instead, he wants to spend New Year's with me... without Miss Haxe. What's the point? I'll just take what I can get, even though I'd like something else.
 
My goodness, what a year it was, wasn't it? Exhausting beyond belief. And what do I have to show for it now, so close to the end of the year? A boyfriend who isn't mine alone. A best friend who barely wants to know anything about me anymore. A botched exam. Okay, meeting Pia is definitely one of the nicer things that's happened.
Otherwise, things can only get better next year.

---

Yeah... finally vacation! And two days before Christmas Eve, it even started snowing. Needless to say, I'd love to go for a romantic walk with my boyfriend right now, but he's already with his extended Italian family.
And he made it clear to me that I shouldn't call him there. He'd get in touch. Silas calls me instead.
“Hey, kitten,” he greets me.
Either he's drunk or he wants something.
“Do you have any plans for tomorrow?”
Hmm, maybe I'll still get my snow walk... even if it won't be as romantic.
"Nope. Why?"
"Cool. Then you're hereby invited."
“Why exactly?”
“To my parents’ Christmas party,” he drops the bombshell.
“Absolutely not.”
"Yes, Feli, absolutely. First of all, you still owe me something, and secondly, Silvester is bringing his perfect girlfriend with him. So I can't possibly show up there alone."
“And you think that you should go to Mom and Dad’s with a gay hairdresser…”
“We’ll meet at the train station at one o’clock,” he interrupts.
“Silas…please…”
“Thank you,” he says and hangs up.
Great! An evening with his snobby, asshole parents is totally my cup of tea. But if I stand him up, Silas will probably never speak to me again, and I'll actually have something to make up for after sleeping with him, even though I knew he kind of loved me. Let's be honest, Silas isn't an unfeeling oaf, so my behavior must have hurt him pretty badly. Okay, the evening with Nico and Miss Haxe was definitely worse, and I got over it. On the other hand, I've been to Silas's house before, and when his parents found out I'm "just" going to be a hairdresser and my parents are just ordinary people... to Silas's parents, "ordinary people" are just half a step above the bum on the corner!
 
One day later, I'm standing at the train station shortly before 1:00 a.m. The snow, by the way, stayed overnight, which is really pissing me off today. Snow in the city isn't glittery and romantic. Snow in the city is gray, slushy, and disgusting. Silas, as always, arrives at the last minute; the train is just about to depart when we reach the platform. Completely out of breath, I collapse onto a seat.
“You should smoke less,” grins my colorful-haired counterpart.
“I’m only doing this for you,” I remind him, coughing.
“You’re a nice boy.”
“Say that stupid thing again and I’ll pull the emergency brake and get out immediately.”
"Cool, you're in a bad mood. Just what my parents need."
The train ride takes forty minutes, but we're still a long way from the station. Silas' parents, of course, don't live in the smelly city, but rather a bit further out, so Silvester picks us up by car. He hangs around in front of the station, masked like an Eskimo.
“Silvi,” Silas shouts, almost jumping into his brother’s arms.
"Fuck snow," Silvi murmurs, giving me a quick pat on the back in greeting. "Hey, Feli, how are you doing?"
“Hmm,” I say, getting into the car and longing for a hot drink.
The normally twenty-minute journey takes much longer due to the weather conditions, but is sweetened by Silas' Christmas CD by the Roten Rosen.
"Campino, the old fart," claims Silvester. "Silas, my boy, you're a punk, right? How can you listen to such commercial crap?"
"Shut up and drive. The kitten in the back seat has almost turned into an icicle."
“Not hardened, the little kitty, huh?” grins Silvester.
“If your show-off car had a decent heater, that would be quite an advantage,” I reply.
“The heating’s on full blast, you frostbitten thing.”
“Not back here.”
The snow is falling softly… sings Campino.
 
After what feels like an eternity, we finally reach our destination. The house is truly beautiful. A bit old-fashioned, with a little turret at the back. Unfortunately, the interior is furnished in a rather inappropriately modern style. There are no creaking stairs or cozy atmosphere here. Everything is new, bright, and somehow cold.
“By the time the guests arrive, I hope you’ve moved,” is the first thing Mom throws at us.
“Mother,” Silas says, “do you remember Feli?”
"No. Should I?" She looks at me disdainfully as I take off my jacket and hat and then dutifully shake her hand. "Oh, you're the hairdresser. How nice."
Her smile is deceptive. She'd love to tie me up somewhere outside, like they do with dogs in front of supermarkets. And I look considerably less ragged than her youngest son. Well, she's probably tying him up next to me in her imagination right now.
"You didn't say you were bringing someone, Silas."
“Is that a problem?”
“Not as much as your outfit,” she whispers to him and disappears to oversee the catering service and the appetizer trays.
Welcome to hell!
Dr. Berger, clutching several bottles of wine, strides out of the cellar and toward the kitchen, nodding rather friendly as he passes. A blonde woman, her curly hair strongly resembling the famous Christ Child, awaits us in the living room.
“Did I promise you too much?” whispers Silas.
I assume this is Silvester's girlfriend.
“I assume you’re Silas’ friend,” she smiles sweetly.
"Something like that," I say. "Feli."
“This is Karina,” says Silvester with heart-shaped eyes and puts his arm around the beauty.
Silas nudges me impatiently. "Let's go upstairs before we run into my mother again."
 
I don't feel quite so lost and out of place in his room anymore. Silas' room, unlike the rest of the house, is cozy, punky, and chaotic.
"I'm really glad you're here," Silas declares, digging a bottle of green liquid out of the cupboard. Then he places two glasses on the black dresser and pulls a packet of sugar cubes out of his pocket. Oh man, this is going to be an exhausting evening if he's already ready to get drunk. The absinthe is the same color as his hair. Absinthe gets me stoned faster than you can blink, so I politely decline when he holds out a glass to me.
“Spoilsport,” sighs Silas and knocks the green fairy back behind his blindfold.
As we sit together on his bed, a dirty little fantasy creeps into my head. In this fantasy, I'm having wild sex with a tipsy punk who tastes like licorice, while champagne and snacks are being served to the partygoers downstairs. Apparently, my imagination doesn't give a damn that I have a boyfriend.
Mmm... Silas has this awesome lanky figure, but he's not too thin when you touch him. His skin is super soft and he smells absolutely amazing. Damn, if I don't stop right now, I'm going to get a hard-on.
“Why are you sweating so much?” he suddenly asks.
I frantically wipe my forehead with my hand. "It's from the absinthe."
"Oh," he nods. Then a dangerous grin appears on his face. "You didn't drink any of it, Feli."
Man, I'd really love to kiss him. Just like that. Kiss for hours. His soft, full lips. Okay, Feli, that's enough!
"It's probably just fear sweating or something," he ponders. "My mother is the Antichrist. Luckily, her firstborn is here to show off. And if you weren't here, she'd probably lock me in the dark basement for the evening."
“Why are you willingly giving yourself this?”
“Because Silvi asked me to,” he shrugs.
My hand slides into his. I have no idea why, and he immediately takes his hand away.
"Stop it."
FUCK, screams my imagination, and I have to shut it up. Hey, what the hell is wrong with me?
 
Silas makes do with two glasses of absinthe, and in the early evening, the guests start arriving. He's borrowed some fancy clothes from his brother... just in case he ends up locked in the basement. I'm wearing my exam clothes, and I think that should be enough to avoid attracting any attention.
Over the course of the evening, I have the opportunity to have a somewhat more in-depth conversation with Karina. She doesn't seem to be comfortable with everything here either. Her parents are also fairly ordinary people. However, she's very good at disguising herself and makes skillful small talk with the guests... they're probably all doctors and lawyers with a lot of money. Apart from Silas, Karina, and Silvester, no one talks to me. I'm not even introduced. No one needs to know that I'm the gay friend of the hosts' son. No one should even know that the hosts' son is gay. It just doesn't look good. It's bad enough that he has colored hair. It's once again clear to me how great my parents are!
 
At some point, I decide Silas is drunk enough and steer him upstairs to his room. The bottle of absinthe is waiting there. I treat myself to a glass, too.
“Tell me, aren’t you hungry at all?”
Well, yes. I didn't touch the snacks because I barely knew what they were.
“I’ll sneak downstairs and see if there’s anything edible in the kitchen.”
“Your mother will be pleased if you sneak around the house drunk.”
“I have to eat something, otherwise I’ll collapse,” he explains and is already out the door.
A while later we eat jam sandwiches and cinnamon stars.
“Why wasn’t Aunt Heike there?”
"She apologized politely. As always. Aunt Heike doesn't like snacks either."
“I can totally understand,” I mumble and lie down comfortably on the bed because my head is foggy from the second glass of absinthe.
Silas lies comfortably next to me. And he snuggles up to me, which I really don't need right now because my fantasy immediately returns. Butterflies flutter excitedly in my stomach. The little punk stretches lazily, his shirt riding up, giving me a glimpse of his cute belly. Carefully, I reach out and touch his skin. Silas sighs softly. I let my fingertips wander over his stomach and begin to unbuckle his belt. Until Silas holds my hand and looks at me.
“Feli, what are you doing?”
“I would love to give you a blowjob,” I whisper, completely overwhelmed.
“Okay, no more absinthe for you.”
I free my hand from his grip, sit on his lap, press his wrists to the mattress, and bend down toward him.
"And I want you to fuck me. Now!"
Oh wow… it’s clear that he wants it too.
“You’re driving me crazy, Feli, really,” he shakes his head.
I slowly unbutton his shirt and lightly scratch his chest with my fingernails. I know he can't resist it.
“Feli…” he groans in agony.
Then he suddenly spins me around so that he is lying on top of me.
“This isn’t going to be a nice, cozy fuck,” he warns.
“Mmhhhh… Tiger,” I grin and kiss him.
After that, reality beats my imagination by far!

---

“Hey, kitten, wake up.”
The ends of my hair tickle my face, I stretch and smile, and immediately feel warm lips on my mouth. I feel something else. On my finger. Something hard. I open my eyes and glance towards my hand... and then Silas' ugly skull ring is grinning back at me. What the hell...? Oh... the memory returns, or at least in fragments. A small, silver bat dangles from Silas' earlobe. MY small, silver bat. I think we sort of got married last night. I'm not sure... the damn absinthe. Silas, the stupid bum, forced tons of the stuff down my throat. Strangely, I don't have a headache or nausea. Just a blackout at some point.
“Silvi will take us to the train station right away.”
"Us?"
“You and me,” he nods.
"Why? Aren't you staying here?"
"Do I look like that?" he asks, confused. "We're at your parents' house today."
"Oh yes?"
Silas looks at me skeptically. "Uh... do you remember your name?"
“Very funny,” I yawn.
"The green fairy has really hit home, huh? Go take a shower and get dressed, then you'll just have time for a coffee."
 
I can only drink half of my coffee because it's already New Year's Eve and his car is at least partially clear of snow. The goodbye from my parents is short and frosty. Silas gets an envelope from the doctor... his Christmas present. I'm not even worth a handshake to my parents. Instead, Karina gives me a big hug and wishes me Merry Christmas and so on.
The ride to the train station is a snail's pace... there doesn't seem to be any decent snow clearing service here in the middle of nowhere. But after a thousand hours, we finally get there. Silvester hugs his brother, then it's my turn. That means... he taps the skull ring.
"Take good care of my little brother. If you hurt him, I'll kick you in the balls. All right?" he smiles.
I nod silently.
 
As Silas holds my hand as we walk, the extent of last night hits me. I mean, he probably thinks we're together now. Shit, what have I done? Also, the fact that he's wrapping his arms around me on the platform because I'm freezing cold because the train is about an hour late worries me a little. Sure, it's really sweet of him, but... I still have a boyfriend. And his boyfriend's name is Nico. I really need to talk to Silas. Not necessarily on Christmas Eve, though.
After Christmas is soon enough, I decide, rubbing my cheek against his warm knitted scarf.
 
Completely frozen and two hours late, I finally got home. Silas wanted to go to his apartment and pick me up later. I considered taking off the ring, but decided against it because Silas would ask awkward questions. Then I also decided against calling Nico. Of course, the bastard hasn't called, even though he practically promised he would. He's probably cuddling with his skank with his Italian family.
 
In the afternoon we'll be at my family's place.
“I love your house,” Silas informs me, overwhelmed.
I love "our" house too. It's dark green and gloomy because of the kilometer-high fir trees in front of it. It has small, semicircular windows at the top, an overgrown garden, and wrought-iron fence spikes. A total fairytale house. However, my parents only rent the house. Mrs. Henriette Mendel, who is probably even older than Rosalie, lives here in the basement... until two years ago with her husband. Since he's no longer here, Mom takes care of her, goes shopping, and so on, because Mrs. Mendel is now disabled. Mrs. Mendel always calls Mom "my girl," and I'm sure Mom will inherit the house someday because Mrs. Mendel has no children or relatives. Of course, Mom invites her to spend Christmas Eve with us, but Mrs. Mendel isn't into Christmas and prefers some peace and quiet. She still gets a big bag of Christmas cookies and a present. My parents get money from her every Christmas.
 
“Feli,” Mom greets me, “why didn’t you say you were bringing your boyfriend?”
“Silas didn’t… he just came up with the idea… uh…” I stammer stupidly.
"Go into the living room and help Tina decorate," she commands cheerfully. "I have to reschedule."
Whatever she means by that. We go into the living room, where my sister is hanging the last straw stars on the Nordmann fir. Dad is standing next to her, fiddling with the string of lights.
"Next year there will be real candles," he claims, "I'm not doing that shit again. Hey, guys."
Silas immediately grabs a piece of string lights and disassembles the bulbs, while Tina puts the empty Christmas tree bauble boxes into the Christmas box and then casts a skeptical look at the tree.
“There used to be more tinsel,” I say in my best Grandpa Hoppenstedt voice.
“This year the tree will stay green. Natural green,” Dad replies.
“And when Feli has recited his poem, we’ve unwrapped presents and watched the Christmas shows on channel one, then things get cozy,” Tina immediately joins in, laughing.
Mom thinks things are getting cozy now. She serves hot cocoa and cookies. Mulled wine or other alcoholic beverages aren't allowed at our house because Dad used to have a serious drinking problem. Tina and I were still very young back then, and Dad was unemployed.
Luckily, he turned things around, found a new job, then we moved here, and everything was fine. Anyway, Dad hasn't touched a drop since.
 
After our traditional Christmas Eve meal, Hawaiian toast, it's time for the presents to be given out. In the past, Tina and I were always locked in the kitchen while Mom and Dad put the presents under the tree and set out the sweets. We weren't allowed into the living room until the bell rang. These days, of course, things aren't quite as secretive. Mom is a little pissed off because I brought Silas along so spontaneously, and now he's not getting a present. But she quickly made him a plate of sweets. Silas is totally happy with it and much prefers being here than with his asshole parents anyway, which I can understand.
 
Since it's snowing like crazy outside again, Silas and I decide to spend the night here. My room is almost exactly the same as when I left it. Mom's a bit of a motherfucker and didn't want me to move out anyway, but Dad just said it was time the boy learned to stand on his own two feet. Anyway... we retreat to my room, and Silas digs a DVD out of his bag.
“What would Christmas Eve be without George Bailey?” he grins.
Well, there's something to that. The film doesn't look quite as good on the ancient mini-TV, but no matter. You know it inside and out anyway. We're cuddled up in bed, eating Christmas sweets, watching "Isn't Life Wonderful?" It's snowing outside, and I have to admit, I'm really happy right now. I don't think about Nico for a second.

---

Silas and I have been together practically nonstop for the past few days. On Boxing Day, we withdrew from my mother's care and have been in my apartment ever since. I think Silas is truly in love with me. His eyes sparkle when he looks at me, he constantly wants to kiss and cuddle, we had incredibly hot sex, and I kept it a secret from him that Nico had been sending me sappy texts because he couldn't reach me any other way, since my phone was usually turned off. I have no idea what I'm actually doing.
“Do you want to go to the Crystal Palace the day after tomorrow?” asks Silas, popping a rum ball into his mouth.
Ah, my fucking cue. The day after tomorrow is New Year's Eve.
“I… ahem… well, well…” I stammer helplessly.
“We can go somewhere else,” he shrugs.
“Actually… well… I have a date with Nico.”
Silas's gaze is almost unbearable. I feel as if I've dealt him a fatal blow.
“But I thought…” He doesn’t finish the sentence, as if he suddenly realized he was making a complete fool of himself.
“Silas, I…”
“And what about this?” he wants to know, pointing to the ugly skull ring I’m still wearing.
I slowly pull the part off my finger.
"That was... just a joke, right? I mean, we didn't really... we didn't..."
"Just kidding," he snorts. "You said you loved me."
“I was so drunk I can hardly remember.”
Oh shame! That wasn't meant to sound so mean.
"You know, I took it seriously," he explains, walking through the apartment, gathering his clothes and stuffing them into his bag. "I actually believed that you loved me and wanted to be with me. That you finally realized what a complete failure that whole thing with the Italian restaurant was. Oh man, I must have been a total fool to trust you."
„Silas …“
"Shut up, okay? One more word and I'll punch you," he yells in my face.
"Go fuck your fucking Italian. And his skinny bitch too, for all I care. I wish you three a wonderful life, asshole," he yells, slamming the door.
Well, if that didn’t go great.
 
I've never felt as bad in my entire life as I do right now. How could everything have gotten so... out of hand? Did I really think I could have a little couple-fight with Silas and then go back to my boyfriend without hurting anyone? And didn't I promise Nico that I would never do anything behind his back with anyone again? Does anyone believe me that none of this was intentional and that I really didn't want to hurt anyone? Fuck, I can't get the look on Silas' face out of my head. I bet if he'd stayed a minute longer, he would have started crying. For all I know.
“I’ve been acting like a selfish piece of shit, and not just the last few days.
Ever since Nico showed up with his knuckle-knee chick, I've been exploiting Silas relentlessly. And he's forgiven me again and again. And I've hurt and disappointed him again and again." I tell this to Pia, whom I just called out of sheer desperation.
"Beating yourself up isn't a solution," she says. "Really think about what you want and who you love."
Oh shit! I was about to say that I probably love both of them. Silas and Nico. Can I still be saved? Why don't I suggest a fun four-way relationship to everyone involved?
"Straighten things out with Silas and thank God if he still wants you. And finally break up with that Italian!" Pia feels she has to help me out.
 
Unfortunately, the phone call didn't help me. I spent the whole night pacing around the apartment... missing a sweet-toothed, sweater-loving, colorful-haired, shaggy, cuddly punk. Then again, the image of Nico creeps into my head, sitting at the harpsichord, playing for me.
 
The next morning, feeling sleepless and with dark circles under my eyes, I pick up the phone when Nico calls.
"Where have you been? I've tried calling you a thousand times."
“My phone was broken or something,” I answer wearily.
“I missed you, my love,” he babbles.
“I love you too,” I say reflexively.
“And…did you survive Christmas okay?”
“Yes.”
"Feli, are you mad? Because we're not together..."
“No,” I interrupt him.
“Okay, so I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
"Clear."
“I’m really looking forward to seeing you,” he says happily.
"Me too. See you then."

---

Since when have I found it so difficult to make decisions? Or to put it another way: is there any point in making decisions anymore? I've definitely scared Silas away forever. I've at least got half of Nico. But that won't be enough in the long run. It's already not enough. Every time I think of Silas, I feel sick and my throat closes up. But I don't know if it's just my guilty conscience and I simply miss him as my best friend or... well, even if I did know, it wouldn't matter anymore because, as I said, I've very successfully scared him away. I would never forgive myself. And soon I have to celebrate New Year's with Nico, even though I'd rather get drunk. Alone. I wonder what Silas is doing... how he's doing... I call him... and he pushes me away. What did I expect?
 
Nico is obviously still really excited to see me. The welcoming hug lasts what feels like five minutes. Then he chats to me for what feels like another five hours.
He actually wants to go to the dorm party, which is taking place in some common room. I can only imagine that the bitch with the legs will definitely be there too. And I can imagine Nico enjoying strolling around with his boyfriend and girlfriend again, showing everyone what a great stud he is. Strangely, I'm neither particularly surprised nor particularly offended. I don't care at all because my heart has already made up its mind. My head was just acting like a stupid, slow-witted idiot.
"I think I'll skip the party," I hear myself saying. "And while we're at it... I'd rather not have this three-way relationship, too. It's just not for me."
“Feli,” he begins, his eyes widening in horror, “what… you want to break up?”
“Exactly that.”
“I love you,” he claims.
"Not enough, Nico. And I can't be with a guy who wants me around mainly for some shitty image reasons. The Crystal Palace gig was enough for me."
“Honey, we don’t have to go to the party, we can go alone…”
“Vivien will definitely like that.”
“She’ll understand.”
Yes, he's the only one who doesn't understand anything. For the first time, I really feel sorry for Vivien. For the first time, I understand how terrible this must all be for her.
“It’s the lousy punk, am I right?” he suddenly hisses angrily.
"I'm going now. Take care."
"Were you fucking him this whole time?" he yells after me. "You're no better, Sebastian."
Maybe. But unlike him, I don't feel comfortable with it.
 
Okay, there are only two possibilities. That's not true, of course. In reality, there are countless, but I don't want to take away all my hope. I might as well take my own life. I race like a madman through the cold and slush, ring Silas's doorbell, and... nothing. His front windows are dark. So, option two. If that's not it either... there's surely a nice bridge to hop off.
The Crystal Palace is packed, and apparently every colorful-haired boy in the world has gathered here today. I push through the crowd, wondering where else he could be... until I see him at the bar. And he's not alone. An anorexic emo is groping him. What the hell is wrong with these people that they all want to look like twelve-year-olds? Besides, Silas isn't into skinny legs, but they seem to follow me like a goddamn curse. Whatever! The emo skeleton isn't going to stop me from winning back MY sweet shaggy punk. I head straight for the two of them.
“Oh shit,” I read from Silas’ lips before he demonstratively turns around.
“I need to talk to you,” I yell in his ear.
“I have things to do,” he yells back, knocks back a shot of tequila and kisses the emo on the mouth.
I aggressively pull him away from the anorexic.
“You’re listening to me, damn it!”
“Are you having trouble with your Italian again?” he asks mockingly.
“No, I broke up with you because…”
"Oh, I'm sorry, I've already had my New Year's Eve fuck, but..." he looks around, "just offer yourself to someone here, I'm sure..."
"And what about this?" I interrupt him, holding up my hand. The ugly skull on my finger flashes briefly in the disco lights.
"Give it a miss. He doesn't mean anything to me anymore anyway."
In desperation, I throw my arms around him.
"I love you, you idiot. I want to be with you."
His arms don't move at all. I slowly let go of him, and the realization that it's actually too late sets in. Silas's gaze is cold.
“Have a good new year,” I smile and make my way out so I don’t burst into tears in front of him and his skinny emo guy.
 
After I've trudged a few steps through the gray, wet mud, someone suddenly shakes my shoulder. I almost have a heart attack from the shock.
“Do you really think you can talk about love and I’ll immediately fall into your arms?” Silas hisses.
“Boy, are you serious?”
"What else can I do? I can only tell you that I love you and..."
"Why should I believe you, huh? The day before yesterday everything was a joke to you."
"The day before yesterday I was totally out of it. Like the entire last year."
“Cool, and tomorrow you’ll have your perspective again and run to your Italian restaurant.”
Silas looks so incredibly cute with his mile-long neon-colored scarf, tight black jeans, and heavy shoes. I want to kiss him and hold him forever. I carefully reach out and tuck a silky-soft strand of his bangs behind his ear. At that exact moment, a New Year's Eve rocket goes off somewhere, whistling. Immediately afterward, there's a continuous explosion, and the sky is filled with colorful lights. Silas grimaces as if something hurts.
"Great timing. This is exactly what I need right now," he hisses into his scarf. "Just get out of here."
 
“Where are we going?” I ask after a while.
Silas ignores the happy people walking past us, waving champagne bottles and shouting “Happy New Year.”
That is to say... he's yelling at the young people: "Screw you, you bums!"
"Where …"
"To you," he replies, which makes me hopeful and bravely reach for his hand. "My heater is broken, it's freezing in the apartment. And since you ruined my trip with that emo guy... I guess I'll have to stay the night at your place if I don't want to freeze to death."
Okay, my euphoria is waning a bit, but I'm still holding Silas' hand.
 
At home, I turn up the heating and hand the chattering punk on the couch a blanket to wrap himself in.
"Don't think everything's okay now. I'm only here because I have nowhere else to go."
“Should I make you some hot cocoa?”
"No thanks."
“What to eat…sweets?”
"No. What the hell is this? All I want to do is sleep. So get lost," he yells, pulling the covers over his ears.
I don't know if it's the tension, or him yelling at me, or him being with me and me not being able to kiss him, but I start embarrassingly crying. There's nothing I can do about it.
"Are you crying?" he groans, annoyed. "Hey, what are you? A little pussy, or what?"
“Fuck you, stupid ass,” I sniff.
"Hurts, huh? That's exactly how I felt. Every time you walked back to your Italian restaurant."
Yes, give it to me, I deserve it!
"I'm sorry, what else can I say? That thing with Nico was a mistake. I know now that I love you and..."
"Stop crying, you idiot," he mutters, loudly scrambling off the couch and standing right in front of me. "This is your very last chance, Feli."
Wahhhh… I think I’m not hearing right.
“Does that mean…?”
"Actually, I had made a New Year's resolution not to fall for you again, but that resolution was completely useless. Tears always pull," he shakes his head and hugs me.
“I love you, Silas,” I sob and kiss him.
That is, until he pushes me away as I'm fiddling with the buttons on his jeans.
“Wait a minute… you’re not getting sex today.”
“Man, I don’t care.”
Silas looks at me skeptically.
“Well, it doesn’t matter, but…”
"Let's just keep things low-key, okay? Being together and all that, I think that's more important for now. We know things are going well in bed."
“Will you still sleep with me tonight?”
"Fine by me. Your couch is incredibly uncomfortable anyway."

---

It took some time. Silas was incredibly suspicious and cautious. I was, and still am, madly in love and wanted to kiss him 24 hours a day. I'm sure I overtaxed him at times, but I'm just crazy about him. And eventually, he couldn't resist it anymore.
Luckily, Nico never contacted me again, but Silas sees him every now and then in the dorm… together with the skinny knuckle.
I've since passed my exam, and Pia has secretly taken Silas's previous place with me. Needless to say, the two of them really like each other, too.
Happy ending? Absolutely. Although... an end is definitely not on the table for Silas and me. By the way, he also wants to kiss 24 hours a day now. And only me!