Destiny – Part 1
So now I have written a story, too. I can't claim that all the people and the plot are fictitious. However, I have tried to change everything beyond recognition without distorting the meaning of the story – yes, I think that's how you could put it. And now... enjoy reading! ????
Part 1
It was raining heavily. It was just after 5 p.m., but it was already dark. This was actually normal, because it was autumn – 11 November 2003. Nobody would voluntarily go outside in such weather, let alone stand on a busy street ‘just for the fun of it’ – but a group of perhaps 20 people did just that. What could there possibly be to see? A lorry was blocking one side of the road at the junction, but the people were looking more in the other direction. Two men were kneeling next to the pedestrian crossing and seemed to be quite busy. The leather jacket of one of the men shone in the rain and the cold must inevitably have crept through it. But the man didn't feel it... he was much too busy. You could see his face in the light of the slowly passing cars. Besides the raindrops, tears were running down his cheeks, but people didn't see that at that distance. Every now and then he sniffled and tried in vain to wipe his wet face on the even wetter collar of his leather jacket. The other man was kneeling about a metre away from him, apparently pumping something up. He was wearing a red jacket, and on his back you could see a large, reflective red cross on a white background, with the word ‘NOTARZT’ (emergency doctor) below it. Drivers honked their horns every now and then – probably just to vent their frustration at the closed side of the road, because it should be obvious to everyone that this wouldn't make them go any faster. There was an injured boy between the two men and people were gawking – there was no such thing as bad weather for gawkers!
Tommy's legs were already tingling and starting to go to sleep because he had been sitting in a crouch for so long. He held the injured boy in his arms, his head drawn up to his chest to protect him from the rain and keep him warm. The boy was half unconscious and only whimpered in pain from time to time. Then Tommy stroked his cheek and spoke soothingly to him. And then the boy was unconscious again. Tommy knew him by sight and just couldn't hold back his tears, because he knew what the boy normally looked like. He had often seen him riding around on his mountain bike in the area and had said hello to him from time to time. Now he was kneeling there, stroking the blood-covered head, which was scratched and very dirty on the left side. The blond hair was dishevelled and quite dark and sticky from blood and rain.
‘I don't believe this!’ he suddenly shouted, looking over at the group of onlookers, “Don't they have anything better to do than stare?” Tommy was 22 and had been a police officer for almost five years. He actually liked his job, but there were days (as there probably are in every job) when you would rather have stayed in bed. Today seemed to be one of those days again! Another police officer approached Tommy and put his hand on his shoulder. ‘Let it go, Tommy! The command will be here soon and we'll be gone,’ he said reassuringly. The two police officers from the accident recording command, or ‘command’ for short, were already starting to put their measuring tapes and writing pads back into the dry station wagon. They had measured and photographed everything, taken an alcohol test from the truck driver and secured the tachograph disc from the tachograph. This driver had apparently followed all the rules for a change. So it could only have been the weather or the fact that he was in too much of a hurry. According to the witness, he had already turned red and still did so. In doing so, he had hit the boy and run over him with his trailer.
The emergency doctor had just fixed the vacuum splint to the leg and pumped the air out. He looked at Tommy. ‘So, now he's ready to be transported. Can you help us to carefully lift him onto the stretcher without moving his head or pulling out the infusions?’ “Sure,” said Tommy, and together with the doctor and the two paramedics, he gently lifted the boy onto the stretcher. They slowly rolled to the emergency ambulance and Tommy held up one of the two infusion bottles. ’Where are you taking him? Do you already know where there is space?’ “Yes, he's going to the hospital in Schwabing...” answered one of the paramedics while pushing the stretcher into the ambulance.
‘We're almost done and can clear the road again,’ said one of the police officers from the command. The truck driver was still sitting on the box with the grit, standing next to the pavement, crying. At least he's taking it to heart, thought Tommy. The replacement driver, who had been brought here by his boss so that he could continue driving the truck, was sitting next to the driver. The driver himself was in shock and could not and should not drive again today. Tommy went over to them. ‘We're almost done and you can drive off,’ he said calmly to them. ‘And what happens now?’ asked the driver in a shaky voice. ‘As it stands, you'll probably get a ticket and probably have to give up your driver's license for a while! You can be glad that you had a 0.0 blood alcohol level and that the driving time was OK. You'll survive it...’, Tommy paused briefly and then added quietly: ’...hopefully the boy too!’
Tommy went to pick up the boy's right shoe and shoulder bag from the road. There were yellow oil-based chalk markings where he picked up the things. The mountain bike had broken almost in half in the middle and Tommy had to carry it because it was a total write-off. He put the bike in the boot of the patrol car and the bag on the back seat. He took the shoe to the ambulance and put it on the side inside. ‘Here's his right shoe. Didn't you have his monthly ticket earlier?’ Tommy asked. One of the paramedics handed him the monthly ticket. ‘Yes, here it is. Florian Bachmeier, 17 years old. He lives at Moosacher Straße 13 – just around the corner,’ he said. ‘Thank you,’ Tommy said to him and went back to the patrol car, leaned in briefly and picked up the radio handset. ‘Operations Centre for 1/4,’ he said into the handset. After the control centre had answered, Tommy gave the report. ‘Lorry versus cyclist, lorry slightly, bike totally, cyclist seriously injured – with BRK stationary to Schwabinger Hospital. We will notify the parents afterwards, and the command centre has been notified.’
Meanwhile, Tommy's colleague had packed up the warning lamp and the warning triangle and sat down in the driver's seat. The truck had continued on its way and Tommy was about to get in. ‘STOP! Look at what you look like – over there... your stomach and your trousers are totally soaked,’ his colleague shouted at him from the driver's seat. ‘Man, Achim! And I thought someone was trying to stab me from behind! You can shout at me, can't you?!’ Tommy wiped himself off with a cloth. “So, now! I'm freezing cold and sick too,” he said irritably and got into the car.
They drove to the address that was on the monthly ticket. On the second floor on the right, where a family named Bachmeier lived according to the doorbell sign, a light was on – so someone was obviously at home. They rang the bell... ‘Yes, hello?’ came the creaky reply from the intercom. ‘Hello, this is the police – can we come up for a moment?’ asked Achim. ‘Yes, of course, but what is...’ At that moment, the door opener whirred and the rest was no longer audible. Tommy and Achim went up the stairs and in the half-opened door stood a woman in her mid-40s – presumably Florian's mother.
‘Hello, my name is Kleinschmied and this is my colleague Wagner,’ Achim introduced himself and Tommy. “Can we come in for a moment?” ’Yes, for heaven's sake, what's happened? Has Florian done something wrong? Come in...’, the mother said, sounding worried.
When they arrived in the living room, she turned around. “Where is he, anyway? Afraid to come in with you, are we? He's in for it...” “No, Mrs Bachmeier...” Tommy interrupted her, ’something bad has happened!’ Ms Bachmeier fell silent instantly and her eyes went wide. ‘What's happened to him?’ ‘Yes, well...’ said Achim, wanting to say something, but then looked over at Tommy for help. He understood the look and turned to Ms Bachmeier. ‘Florian was hit by a car. A lorry. According to the witness, the lorry wanted to turn when it had already gone through the red light. He didn't see your son, who was just about to cross the road.’ Mrs Bachmeier grew visibly paler. Achim took her by the arm and led her to the couch, where she slumped down and began to sob. “He came to the Schwabinger and is currently being examined there,” Tommy added. ‘And how bad is it?’ she asked, hoping to hear that Florian would be fine by the end of the week. “Well, according to the emergency doctor, he has a broken right thigh, bruises and abrasions, and probably a concussion. He'll probably have to stay in the hospital for at least a few days.” “When can I see him? Where exactly is he?” ’I'll give you the number of the Schwabing Hospital. It's best to call them later and ask for directions.’ Tommy pulled his “smart book” out of his wet jacket. “By the way, we also need Florian's full personal details – for the report against the truck driver. And the number of the Schwabing Hospital is 30 68 34 45.” ’Thank you, and what else do you need from him?’ ‘Date and place of birth, marital status and occupation. I think he's single and a student, right?’ “Yes, and he was born on 23 September 1986 in Munich.” “Doesn't Florian have an ID card because I didn't find one in his pocket?” Tommy asked. ’Yes, he does, but it's usually in his room so he won't lose it. And what did you mean by ‘report against the lorry driver’?’ “The colleagues from the accident and incident recording department are writing a report and for that we need all his details.” “I see. Yes, fine. I'll wait for my husband now. He should be home from work any minute.” She looked at the clock excitedly. It was now 6:30 p.m. Achim looked at his watch too, motioned for Tommy to leave and turned to Ms Bachmeier. ‘We'll quickly take the bike and his bag up to you, okay?’ ‘Yes, thank you, that's kind of you,’ she said, trying to smile, but obviously failing. Tommy smiled at her and nodded encouragingly. ‘He'll be fine!’
On leaving the flat, Tommy saw a dark room on his right. It must be Florian's. In the dark, he could just make out a cupboard, a bed and a table with a monitor on it. ‘Yes, that's his room,’ said Ms Bachmeier, switching on the light. The room was nicely furnished – small but cosy. There were no posters on the walls – just fantasy pictures and a cinema poster for Xmen. In one corner hung a 2 by 1 metre Rainbow Flag. Mrs Bachmeier reached over to the desk and held out Tommy Florian's ID. ‘Look, there he is!’ Achim rolled his eyes impatiently and said that he would go and get the things out of the car meanwhile. Tommy looked at the picture on Florian's ID and must have had a very dreamy expression on his face. ‘Yes, my son is also... gay.’ She looked at the small rainbow pin on the collar of Tommy's leather jacket. Tommy became a little embarrassed, although you really didn't see that often with him. ‘Aha...?’ he stammered, somewhat irritated. “I noticed it as soon as you came in – I've got an eye for it now,” she said with a slight grin. “That you noticed that right away? None of my colleagues actually know! We're supposed to be tolerant of others, but you don't have a good time in your own ranks when you come out!” ’Then it's not easy for you, is it? What did you do to your trousers?’ She pointed at Tommy's trousers with her eyes. He looked down at his blood-smeared thighs. Only now in the light did it really stand out. “I helped the emergency doctor earlier...” he said just as Achim came crashing through the door with his bike and bag. He looked at Tommy, expecting him to finally go and get a coffee. Achim also went straight back towards the apartment door, with Tommy following him slowly. ‘We have to go then, Mrs Bachmeier – here is my business card in case you have any questions. And best wishes to Florian and get well soon!’ ‘I'll be happy to pass that on, Mr Wagner! Have a good shift!’
‘Say, did you guys drink Brüderschaft when I was at the car?’ grinned Achim as they walked down the stairs. “Well, we almost did,” joked Tommy. “That would be a mother-in-law to your taste, eh?” said Achim, laughing. ’What was that?’ Tommy couldn't believe his ears. ‘It's okay, Tommy... I won't tell anyone, don't worry!’ Achim turned around and looked at Tommy. ‘I know,’ he said, pointing to the small badge on Tommy's collar, ‘what it means! And besides, I've known you for a few days now.’ “Oh, well... Yes then... Um... Are we going to get a coffee or what?” Tommy tried to change the subject gracefully. “Yeah, sure, come on... let's go to the station!” The little diversionary manoeuvre seemed to have worked. But Achim was not so easily distracted. ’If you ever want to talk...’ Then he got in and started the engine. Tommy got in too and they drove to the station. He and Achim had been on patrol together for about two years – at least most of the time. So they knew each other quite well and it was actually clear that Achim would have to notice something sooner or later. Also because Tommy (logically) never said anything about ‘a girlfriend’. Somehow Tommy was relieved because he no longer had to pretend or dissemble with Achim. They already got along great, which was probably also because they were about the same age. Achim was only just over two years older.
The late shift was over by 8 p.m., and Tommy was looking forward to a hot shower. Already on the way home, he couldn't stop thinking about Florian. At night, he dreamt of terrible accidents and disfigured, blood-soaked corpses, and kept seeing Florian's dirty and blood-smeared face in front of him. Did that affect him so much? Nothing like that had happened to him before, although he had seen worse accidents. Outside, it was pitch dark and still raining when the alarm clock released him from his nightmares. He woke up and was sweating. 5:00 a.m. and in an hour he had to start work. He made himself a cappuccino and then drove off.
When he arrived at work, he found a note in his pigeonhole.
‘Good morning Tommy! Please call Ms Bachmeier. You have the number, don't you? It's about the accident last night. Best regards and have a good shift – Schatti.’
What was it now? She probably wanted to ask something about the report or something. Since Tommy couldn't call her at just after six, he went on patrol with Achim first and of course told him about the call. ‘She'll probably want to know if she needs to get a lawyer or something,’ he said. ‘Yeah, probably. Achim, we can just drop by to see her later, can't we?’ ’Yeah, sure, if there's nothing going on.’
It was quiet that Wednesday morning, so they just went to see Ms Bachmeier at half past eight. They rang the doorbell and, without her saying anything over the intercom, the door opener whirred. They went up.
‘Good morning, Ms Bachmeier,’ Tommy and Achim said almost simultaneously. “Good morning, Mr Wagner and Mr...” “Kleinschmied,” Achim added. “Oh yes, sorry, Mr Kleinschmied!” “That's all right,” Achim said, grinning. “Come in – would you like a coffee?” Ms Bachmeier asked with a smile. Achim and Tommy looked at each other and nodded – it was quiet and they had their radio with them so they could be reached. ‘Thanks, we'd love some,’ Tommy said. ‘Did Mr Schattner tell you that I called?’ ‘Yes, he did. Do you have any questions or is there any news about Florian? How is he?’ Tommy asked, visibly tense. Ms Bachmeier handed them both a cup and pointed to the table where the milk and sugar were. ‘Please help yourselves.’ ‘So, Florian had internal bleeding and a ruptured spleen. He had emergency surgery last night.’ Tommy suddenly felt sick, but it was definitely not the coffee. She could see that Tommy was struggling and added that at least Florian was no longer in critical condition. Tommy took a big gulp and breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Are you in love, Tommy?’ Achim asked. ‘You're more worried than his mother!’ Mrs Bachmeier looked at Achim in disbelief. She was still under the impression that none of the colleagues knew. Tommy explained to her that their colleague Kleinschmied had probably known for some time, which drew a grin across the faces of those present. ‘Can we visit him?’ ‘Not today, he's still in intensive care.’ She turned away from them, probably to hide her tears. ‘Did the doctors say anything else?’ Tommy wanted to know anyway. ‘A rib is also broken. Otherwise, only what they already told me yesterday. By the way, I should also give them my best regards and say thank you.’ ‘Thank you? What for?’ “You must have held him in your arms and not just left him lying on the wet street.” “Isn't that obvious?” “If you're a good person, yes, Mr Wagner.” Achim felt like he was at a tennis match, always looking back and forth between the two. He was about to ask if he was disturbing them and should rather go for a walk when the radio crackled. ‘Car 1/4 – we have a shoplifter in Wal Mart – being held.’ “Got it,” Achim replied briefly and looked at Ms Bachmeier. “Unfortunately, we have to go. Have a nice day and thanks again for the coffee!” Tommy put down his cup and followed Achim. “Yes, thanks and best regards again!” ’You're welcome! Goodbye, gentlemen.’
Tommy was a lost soul for the rest of the morning. He was constantly lost in thought and Achim went to the station after this callout, as they still had a lot of paperwork to do anyway. At 1 p.m., the shift was over and they had the rest of the day off. Tommy went home, although he almost wanted to go to the hospital. But when the mother said that they weren't allowed to visit him yet today... The night shift dragged on like chewing gum, but at least it had finally stopped raining. Instead, it had now become freezing cold. In the morning, Tommy was totally exhausted and just wanted to go to bed. When he woke up, it was already 2:00 p.m. – quite a normal time after the night shift. Now he had no idea which room Florian was in. Anyway, he would find out somehow. He just had to know how he was doing! He made himself something to eat and drove to the hospital in Schwabing. He figured that they wouldn't give him any information there as a stranger, so he showed his ID and said that he needed a few more details about the accident. The nurse looked at him a bit strangely, but he got the information that Florian was on the second floor in room 206. Tommy wondered again whether he should really do this, but then decided to go up. He knocked on the door of room 206.
‘Come in,’ sounded muffled and quiet through the door. Tommy went in. A three-bed room and only one was occupied – by Florian. “Hello, I was in the accident the day before yesterday and just wanted to know how you are doing.” “Are you Mr Wagner – the cop?” The voice sounded weak but somehow sweet. Tommy went closer and grinned. ‘Yes, that's right, I'm the cop and my name is Tommy.’ You could see that it must have hurt Florian a lot, but he couldn't help smiling. But the pain was probably stronger then and he grimaced and narrowed his eyes. ‘Sorry, if I had known... I won't make any more jokes, okay?’ ‘It's okay,’ Florian replied painfully. “And how are you doing? Not so well, I'm guessing?” “Well, I've felt better. Since when do cops make hospital visits?” “I'm here more privately,” Tommy justified himself. Florian was hooked up to countless tubes, was as pale as death, and the scratches on his face were only now really visible. In any case, you could feel sorry for him. Florian saw that Tommy's eyes wandered over all the infusions, accesses, drainages and the other equipment and he seemed to wonder what all this was for. ‘Oh, it's not that bad! Tequila is in here and the brown bottle over there has nicotine dissolved in alcohol!’ He grinned broadly at Tommy. Even if he felt so bad, he still had a sense of humour and his smile was simply enchanting. ‘I still wouldn't want to swap with you – I'd rather go to my Irish pub and smoke a real fag with my Guinness,’ said Tommy. ‘Take me with you, please!’ ‘I'd take you with me, but get well first! What exactly is wrong with you?’ Tommy knew the answer to that, but he just wanted to hear Florian's voice for as long as possible. ’Well... I've got a broken thigh, bruises all down my left side and a slight concussion. On top of that, I've got a ruptured spleen and a broken rib. It'll probably take a while before I'm fit again.’ Florian looked quite sad. But he had to accept it. ‘Oh, you poor thing! And do you already know how long you'll have to stay in here?’ ‘Until the end of next week – for observation and stuff, they say.’ ‘Hopefully you don't get a cold on top of everything – it was pissing rain the day before yesterday! Just imagine if you had to cough or sneeze with that rib there!’ “Great! But you were holding me, so nothing could have happened to me!” “Oh, you noticed that, did you?” “Yeah, sure! I remember it very clearly... How you wanted to calm me down and all that...” he said with a grin. “And all that...?”, Tommy followed up. ‘Well, you stroked my cheek too – yes, I noticed that too!’ “Well, you should have noticed that too – otherwise I could have left it alone. Besides, I could think of nicer occasions to hug you than when you're injured in an accident!” ’Really? Anyway, I'm really happy that you came to visit me! What my mother said about you must be true, right?’ “Yes, what did she say?” Florian looked a bit down and hoped that Tommy would figure out what he meant. Of course Tommy already knew exactly what he had meant. “That I'm gay too? Is that what you mean?” Florian just looked at him and smiled contentedly, as if he had just been given an injection of morphine. ‘Are you coming to visit me again or did you just want to know how I am today?’ “I had a really bad dream last night after the accident and kept seeing your face. I just had to see you and know that you're okay. Do you want me to come and see you again?” ’Of course! If you want? My mother said that only one of your colleagues knows. I hope you won't get into trouble if you visit me!’ “Well, I don't see any problems there. Even if colleagues find out... I should still be able to visit someone in hospital, shouldn't I?” “So you'll come back tomorrow, yes?” “Of course I will,” said Tommy, and at that moment there was a knock at the door and without waiting a moment, a nurse came in. ‘You'll have to leave for a moment, please, he has to get his thrombosis injection.’ “He can stay here because of me,” Florian snapped at the nurse. The nurse wasn't quite sure whether that was meant seriously or jokingly – you could see the cogs in her head rotating and Tommy just couldn't help but smirk. Of course, she grinned back at him, but Florian tried desperately to remain serious. The nurse put on a bored and annoyed face, pushed the blanket aside and pulled his T-shirt up a little so that the stomach was free for the injection. On one side, his body was all yellow, green and red from the bruises. From the belly button upwards, he had a bandage – probably because of the broken rib or the operation on his spleen. The nurse gave him the injection, pulled his T-shirt back into place and covered him up again. ‘Please no more so long. He needs rest,’ she said to Tommy as she was leaving. ‘It's okay,’ Florian and Tommy said in unison. They looked at each other and grinned. ‘You're really nice for a cop…’ Florian started, when there was another knock at the door. He raised his eyebrows. “Come in,” he said annoyed. The door opened and his mother came in. “Hello,” she said and stopped short when she saw Tommy. A strange smile crossed her face. ’Hello, Mr Wagner. What are you doing here?’ Before Tommy could think of what he should say, Florian spoke up. ‘He wanted to see how I am doing! Isn't that nice?’ ‘Of course, it's purely business, of course,’ she added and smiled at Tommy; the kind of smile you give to someone when you know they're lying. Tommy felt like an open book at the moment. He would have liked to have had a big panic buzzer like on a game show: floor up – Tommy in – floor down. She walked up to Tommy and tapped him lightly on the shoulder. ‘It's really sweet of you to come and visit him!’ ‘Well, it's not really work-related! I just wanted to see how he was doing!’ ‘I know, but... Are you off today?’ ‘Yes, I had the early and night shift yesterday and don't have to start until noon the day after tomorrow.’ “Yes, and he's coming to visit me again tomorrow!” Florian beamed briefly before his face was distorted by pain again. His mother turned to Tommy. “Tell me, you two... Am I missing something?” Tommy wasn't quite sure either, so he looked at Florian and waited for him to say something. Florian didn't know exactly what to say either. But there was only one thing he could do. ‘Nah – you didn't miss anything! He just wants to visit me, mum!’ He looked over at Tommy and you could tell from his expression that he would have liked to have said something different. To go to such lengths for just one visit was really not like Tommy. Even though he was a very talkative police officer and always had a clever thing to say for every occasion in his circle of friends, he was rather shy and reserved in these matters. ‘What's not, can still be,’ said Mrs Bachmeier suddenly, and received a look from Florian that should have killed her on the spot. ‘Mum!!!’ Tommy was now a little too embarrassed and since he would be coming back tomorrow anyway, he wanted to withdraw. ‘I'll go then and see you tomorrow! Bye Mrs Bachmeier!’ ‘I'm looking forward to it, Tommy!’ ‘Goodbye and have a nice weekend Mr Wagner,’ said Mrs Bachmeier. How he would have liked to give Florian another kiss, but he didn't dare to, of course
, so he walked wordlessly to the door and was gone.
‘Mom, what was that all about?’ Florian immediately snapped at his mother. ’Why? What? I thought you liked each other! Is it so far-fetched that...?’ “Well, I wouldn't be surprised if he doesn't come to visit me tomorrow. And just because you can't keep your comments to yourself!” Florian looked really angry and deeply unhappy at the same time, and his mother was amazed because she had never seen her son like this before. ’Tell me, Flori... Have you maybe got a crush on Mr Wagner? Is that possible? What?’ she teased. “I don't know. He's somehow different. Not so cheeky, not one to just hang around being lazy, he's nice too... and he's not bad looking, is he?” ’Well, I thought he was quite nice the night before last when he was with his colleague at my place. He's definitely not like Patrick. He was the last thing!’ “No, he's definitely not like that! Tell me, how old do you think he is? In his early 20s? What do you think?” “Yeah, I think that's about right. Just ask him tomorrow.” ’I don't really care about age, unless it's decades. The main thing is that he's sweet, nice, well – you know what I mean.‘ “Yes, I see. And you can also assume that he won't start something with someone else every day, like Patrick.” “Yes, I think so too.” “So you have my ”blessing’. Not that I want to take it away from you, but I also think he's very nice. Well, I have to go again. May I come by again tomorrow?’ “Do whatever you want!” Florian joked and when he saw his mother's face fall to the floor, he realised that this joke had probably not been received. “Sure, Mom, of course!” ’Well, tomorrow then, and get well soon!’
Tommy was at home and was thinking of Florian again. He just couldn't get him out of his head. He would have liked to go to him again right away, but he didn't want to be too intrusive. He didn't know that Florian had also taken an interest in him. And Florian had no idea that Tommy wanted nothing more than to simply hold him in his arms. So they both languished and longed for the next afternoon. Tommy couldn't sleep much better than Florian. Only that it wasn't the pain that kept him awake. The next morning, both of them got through the time only slowly and with difficulty, until Tommy couldn't stand it anymore and got into the car.
When visiting his mother, Tommy had seen a pack of red Gauloises in Florian's room – so Florian probably smoked too. Tommy stopped at a kiosk and bought a pack and a lighter. On the lighter was written (how could it be otherwise?) ‘I love you!’ At the hospital, he couldn't wait to go upstairs. There it was! Room 206 – behind this door lay his sweetheart. Oh well, they weren't together after all. This realisation caused Tommy to become quite sobered and he stood there, paralysed, lost in thought. Then the door opened and Florian stood there with crutches, wearing jogging bottoms and a T-shirt. ‘Hey, you're already here! Cool! Come in!’ ‘Hello little one! And you're allowed to get up again, are you? Where did you want to go again?’ ’Well, the doctor was here earlier and allowed me to smoke again, as long as I don't overdo it. And since I don't have any fags here, I was just about to go to the kiosk downstairs in the hall.’ Well, that was convenient... Tommy held out the packet of fags with the lighter. ‘You can save yourself the trip.’ ‘How did you know?’ ‘Ooooh, there's something written on the lighter! Um... is that right?’ ‘Of course it's right!’ Without thinking twice, Florian gave him a quick hug and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Thank youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu I love you too! You're really sweet, you know that, Tommy?’ “You're sweet too,” said Tommy, hugging Florian. “Ow... ow... ow... ow...” came from Florian. Tommy immediately let him go. All the wounds probably hurt quite a bit when hugging. ’It's okay, better than yesterday, but it still hurts. The bruises hurt like hell – even more than yesterday,’ Florian said before Tommy could say or ask anything. Tommy now summoned up all his courage. “Hey Florian? Don't you have a boyfriend?” “Not anymore, and you?” “Unfortunately not either!” “But I think I almost have a new one,” Florian added. ’Oh? Well, come on... let's go and have a smoke!’ Tommy was visibly disappointed. Had he understood that right? Florian already had something new in prospect? Florian realised that Tommy was thinking in the wrong direction and helped a little. “But my future boyfriend probably doesn't like me, what do you think?” ’Why are you asking me that? You have to ask him yourself,’ Tommy grumbled somewhat petulantly. “But that's what I just did... at least I hope so!” Now Tommy had understood it correctly. Florian was a funny little fellow, to lead him up the garden path like that! He turned around, looked into Florian's dark eyes and simply couldn't say anything. He couldn't even get one of his famous ripostes out. He just wanted to take this dear person in his arms and never let go. Tommy took him in his arms very gently so as not to hurt him. ‘I can't stand it without you anymore, little one!’ Tears rolled down Tommy's cheeks. Florian's thick tears now also rolled down his cheeks. ‘I can't stand it without you either, big guy!’
The worst possible moment for it... There was a knock at the door and the nurse was standing in the room. She saw the two of them lying in each other's arms, more or less crying, and now everything was clear to her. She almost didn't dare say anything. ‘Sorry, I'll be back in five minutes with the injection.’ When she walked backwards out of the room, she almost fainted. Florian and Tommy had to laugh. When the door closed again, Florian took Tommy's head in his hands and gave him a tentative kiss on the mouth. Yes, they had both wanted that so much, even though they had only known each other for a few hours. Couldn't this moment last forever? They were enjoying the moment when there was already another knock at the door. It had never been five minutes! But it wasn't the expected nurse, but Florian's mother, who came in looking quite puzzled. ‘So!’ Florian and Tommy just grinned at her. What else could they have said? ‘Well, I'm really happy for you! Can I still stay?’ she joked. ‘Nah...’, Florian said dryly, ‘...because I really need a smoke now!’ ‘Was I that good, darling?’ Tommy asked, trying to sound as serious as possible. But everyone burst out laughing. Florian hobbled to the door with his crutches and there was another knock. The nurse came in. OK, so the five minutes were up. “Well, we have to go now, even if it's inconvenient,” she said, somewhat embarrassed. Florian lay down on the bed and pulled up his T-shirt so that she could finish faster. The nurse gave him the injection rather hastily and seemed to have hit a nerve this time, or at least only just missed it. Besides, these thrombosis injections burn like hell anyway. Florian pursed his lips. The nurse just left him like that today and went out of the room again. Florian still lay there and you could see that it had really hurt today, because a tear rolled down his right cheek. Tommy went to him, put his hand on the spot where the nurse had given the injection and gave him a kiss on the right eye from which the tear had come. ‘Are you okay, sweetheart?’ ‘You're really sweet! I love you so much!’ “You make a beautiful couple!” the mother said enviously. Florian sat up, stood up and limped with his crutches towards the door. “So, if I don't get my fag now, I'm gonna get pissed!” His mother held her arm in front of him, so he had to stop and stared at her in amazement. Did she realise that this meant war? But before he had taken the necessary breath to rant, she pulled a packet of red Gauloises out of her coat pocket and held it out to him. ‘I brought you these. Are you allowed to smoke again?’ ‘Yes, thanks, mum. The doctor said I could, as long as I don't smoke more than five a day.’ ‘Well then... What are you still standing around here for, Flori?’
After a fleeting thank-you kiss, everyone trotted out of the room. This time nothing came up and they went towards the cafeteria. In the hallway, many people came towards them, some of them were sick people with a so-called gallows next to them, on which infusions hung. Fortunately, Florian didn't need any more and the crutches only hindered him a little. When people were around, he would say loudly that his stupid catheter was full again and enjoyed the indignant reactions of the people around him. He was a real joker. No wonder – as happy as he was at the moment! Despite his injuries. Then they sat down in the cafeteria.
‘So, first of all... I'm Heidi now,’ Frau Bachmeier said to Tommy. “And I'm Tommy,” he replied. She told Tommy that she worked at the gate at Munich Airport and also worked shifts. However, she didn't have any night shifts, just an early, midday and late shift. Florian said that after his tenth year at school, he wanted to be an IT technician or something similar. Tommy had also thought about changing to the computer industry, because he liked it even more than police work. They talked until it was dark outside. They went back to the room and Heidi said goodbye to Tommy and Florian.
‘You know that I can't visit you tomorrow because I'm on duty?’ ’Yes, I got it – too bad! I don't know if I can stand it, darling – really! I think I've got a real crush on you!’ Florian blushed quite a bit, but something in him just forced him to tell Tommy. “I don't feel any different, darling. I'll see that I come by after work – so around half past eight or so.” ’So late? By then I'll have died of longing twice already!’ Tommy took Florian in his arms and a long goodbye kiss followed. Then Tommy went home. It was a restless night because Tommy would have liked to have had his sweetheart in his arms as he fell asleep. At the same time in room 206 of the Schwabing Hospital... pretty much the same thing was going on there. Florian just couldn't get to sleep, longing for a hug from his new sweetheart. But eventually they both fell asleep, each of them thinking they were holding the other in their arms...
Oh yes... one more legal notice:
In this story, some of the characters do not act in accordance with the law.
This circumstance is necessary for the presentation of the story and serves ONLY this purpose!

Part 1
I woke up, but first had to look around to see where we were. Sleeping in the car hadn't been such a good idea; I hurt all over. We – that's my parents and me. Like every year, we went to Tuscany for a four-week holiday. With the caravan to the seaside.
You will surely say, is he still going on holiday with mum and dad? Why not, when else would I get three weeks' holiday for “free”. And then in Tuscany too....?
I pushed myself up and looked out of the window. We had actually arrived. We were at the entrance to the campsite. I opened the door and got out. First of all, I had to stretch and bend my individual limbs, it's not normal to sleep in the back of the car at 1.85, I don't do it often.
My mother's spare key was on the front seat, so I locked the car and stomped towards the reception, where I found my parents.
‘So, the junior has finally woken up,‘ my father said.
‘And did you sleep well, my darling?’ my mother asked.
I nodded at both of them and had to yawn again heartily.
‘Do we have the same seat?’ I asked tiredly.
‘Yes, but there are still people on it,‘ replied Mum, “we have to wait another hour before we can go on it.’
‘If you don't mind, I'll go and have a quick look at the beach,” I said.
‘That's all right,’ said my Dad, ‘there's not much we can do at the moment anyway.’
So I walked through the big gate into the campsite. I recognised some of the faces I saw from last year. I greeted them friendly and had a little chat here and there.
‘Hi Andreas, back again?’
I knew the voice, it could be none other than Chrisi. I turned around and it was her.
‘Hi Chrisi, just arrived.’
We greeted each other with a hug and two kisses on the cheek.
‘Have you grown even more? It suits you though. Gregor and Lisa are already here too, we'll meet up later on the beach.’
My Chrisi again, talking my ear off and I only caught half of what she said.
‘It's okay, I just want to take a quick look at the sea, and then I'll help my parents put up the caravan and unpack, I'll come to you later, okay?’
‘Are you staying in the same place again?’
‘Place 21, as always.’
‘Okay, see you later then.’
And just like that she had disappeared again. So I walked on to the beach, and was handsomely rewarded for it. The sea was calm, with a slight swell as it actually is every morning if there isn't a thunderstorm somewhere at night.
I took off my trainers and socks and dug my toes deep into the sand. Oh, how I had missed this feeling. A few steps further and I was standing in the water. I almost started dreaming as the water lapped around my feet.
‘At some point I'll move here,’ I thought to myself. Back to reality, I remembered my parents, so I quickly went back to help them.
‘Hello Andreas, there you are at last, we were able to get to the pitch earlier, will you help Dad align the caravan?’
‘I will.’
Every year it's the same thing, winding, winding, winding, until the caravan is finally straight according to the spirit level. Then it was time to put up the awning and again, where does the pole go, something is still missing, it's crooked.
After two hours I could finally pitch my little tent. Yes, I no longer slept in the caravan; I wanted a bit of privacy.
*-*-*
I finally arrived at the beach completely exhausted. Gregor, Lisa and Chrisi were lying at our usual spot at the back of the old pine tree. Gregor saw me first and jumped up, almost knocking me over with his enthusiastic greeting.
Lisa was the last to greet me.
‘Hi old chap, still single?’
‘Well Lisa, you turned down my marriage proposal two years ago, and I've been unhappily single ever since.’
Gregor started laughing loudly.
‘Lisa, it's your fault that our Andreas has changed sides,’ he said.
Have I already told you that I'm gay, and my friends here knew that.
Lisa wrinkled her nose.
‘You're just glad that thanks to Andreas you have no competition, because you don't look as good as Andreas, you wouldn't stand a chance.’
One-nil to Lisa. It was as always and I had been looking forward to it for the last few weeks.
‘Kuki can't come this year, her mother had to go to the hospital. But Jens, Dirk and Jessica will probably arrive today,‘ Chrisi said.
‘Then we're complete again. And has anyone already spotted someone who would fit in with our clique?’ I asked.
‘We haven't looked around that much yet, we wanted to wait until everyone was here anyway.’
I spread out my towel.
‘So if you don't mind, I'll jump into the water,‘ I said and stormed towards the water.
The others were with me immediately. I dove in and didn't resurface until a few metres further on.
‘Man, I've missed this, an outdoor pool is no substitute,’ I said.
‘You don't need to swim here half naked,’ grinned Gregor, “or do you want to hit on someone.
I had forgotten to tighten the drawstring of my shorts because of all the water, so half of my back was hanging out.
‘Why is it already visible?” Lisa said and started giggling with Chrisi.
‘Well Gregor, at least it's a nice arse, for looking at, not something flat like yours at the back,‘ I said and Gregor was on me in a second, dunking me under water.
‘Look who's waving,’ Lisa called.
We all looked towards the beach entrance. There were Dirk, Jens and Jessica. Dirk and Jessica were twins, but you couldn't tell except for their eyes. Jens was Jessica's boyfriend and had been coming here for the second year in a row.
We got out of the water to greet the three of them. Jessica screamed loudly when Gregor took her in his arms, wet as he was.
‘Look at my sweetheart,’ Dirk said, hugging me and kissing me on the mouth. Dirk was the second gay guy in our group, ’You look even better than last year.’
It had been clear for a long time that Dirk and I weren't right for each other, but a little kiss here and there or an arm around each other on a walk was okay.
‘Boo guys, I'm glad I'm finally out of the cart, with these two magnificent specimens of men it was almost unbearable,‘ said Jessica.
‘If you have to listen to your boy group tootling the whole way, are you surprised?’ Jens said, for which he got a nudge in the ribs.
Dirk still had me in his arms.
‘Brother dear, I think I'll call Torben right away and tell him you've got a guy here,‘ Jessica said.
Dirk abruptly let go of me.
‘You have a boyfriend?’ I wanted to know.
‘Yes, for four months,‘ he replied.
‘And why didn't you bring me, there would be room in your big car,’ Gregor said.
‘He couldn't, his parents had already booked somewhere else.’
While we were talking, I saw a boy and a little girl walking towards us in the background. When they were at our level, I heard what the little girl said.
‘Tommy, look, but that's a big lake.’
‘Katja, that's not a lake, that's the sea.’
‘Are there ducks to feed there too?’
‘No, sweetheart, only fish.’
‘Can you see them?’
And before I knew it, they were out of my hearing range. He was just the type for me, but with my luck, well... pipe dreams. He had curly blonde hair like his sister and had to do sports to keep in shape.
‘Earth to Andreas, hey hello,’ Chrisi called.
‘Um... what?’
‘Jens asked what's on tonight.’
‘The usual, our parents are sitting on the terrace again and we'll do our usual first tour.’
Everyone looked at me grinning.
‘What?’ I asked.
The looks wandered to Tommy and his sister.
‘Oh man, the chance that the guy is gay is as big as one of you finding a golden sand grain on the beach.’
Everyone started laughing. So loudly that Tommy looked over and right at me. Had I spoken too loudly? The red of my swimming trunks faded against the red in my face.
I stomped back to my towel.
‘Andreas, don't be offended,‘ Lisa said.
‘I'm not just sad,’ I replied.
‘Why?’ Jessica asked.
Meanwhile we were all sitting again and the pine tree.
‘I would also like to finally have a boyfriend, I also want to have someone in whose arms I can snuggle. I want to wake up in the morning and look into a sweet face.’
‘You listen to Shania Twain too much,’ said Jens.
‘So what, you have your Jessica, and you know how nice it is.’
Stunned silence all around.
‘Sorry guys, I didn't mean to drag you down, I didn't even want to come here this year.’
‘Then why are you here after all,’ Chrisi asked.
‘Because I missed you all so much and wanted to see you again. I can be myself with you, I don't have to pretend like I do at home. Except for my parents, nobody still knows.’
‘That's rough,’ said Dirk, “I know what it's like, and it's only thanks to my sister that I've managed to escape this vicious circle.’
‘I can't really imagine what it's like,” said Lisa.
‘To pretend to be straight all day?’
‘Yes.’
A ball bounced into our group and, how could it be otherwise, Katja came running.
‘Can I have my ball back?‘ she asked shyly.
‘I have an idea,’ Lisa said quietly, ‘shall we all play with you?’
‘Oh yes, my brother Tommy will play with you too.’
I looked at Lisa a little puzzled, but then Dirk pulled me up. Jens took the little girl on his shoulder and so they all ran over to Tommy. He didn't seem to know what was happening to him, because a bunch of wild teenagers were running around him.
Katja enjoyed being the centre of attention.
‘This is my brother Tommy,’ she said proudly and took his hand, ’Tommy, look, I've made a lot of friends.’
He took his little sister in his arms and smiled at her. Oh man, what a smile, I had already fallen for him. Jens kicked the ball a little hard in the direction of Dirk, only Katja and her brother were standing there.
He reacted very quickly and raised his arm and fended it off, which I didn't do, and the ball hit me right in the face. Everything went black.
‘Is Andreas dead now?‘ I heard Katja ask.
I opened my eyes.
‘No, Katja, he's just faking,’ Dirk said, ‘see, he's looking at you again.
The little girl was sitting right next to me with her face over mine. An enchanting child's smile came towards me.
‘Oh man, what was that for a hammer?’
I grabbed my head and rubbed my forehead.
‘Did you hurt yourself?’
I couldn't place the voice, so it must have been Tommy's. I turned my head to the right and looked straight into Tommy's eyes, who was kneeling next to me, looking totally pale.
‘No, it was just the force that knocked me over,‘ I replied, “you should play volleyball, you can use something like that.
‘I do,” said Tommy, grinning sheepishly.
‘Come on, big guy, get up,’ said Gregor, pulling me up.
‘Then we have two who can do it,‘ said Lisa, “then it's no longer so unfairly distributed when we play beach volleyball.’
‘Why who then?” asked Tommy.
Before I could answer, Chrisi was faster again.
‘The young man you just knocked over,’ she said.
‘Katja,’ someone called.
A couple was standing at the entrance to the campsite.
‘Hello Mummy, Tommy has just shot someone down.’
‘Katja,‘ Tommy called, slightly annoyed.
Tommy's parents came running towards us.
‘What have you done?’ Tommy's father asked.
‘I just defended myself so Katja wouldn't get shot.’
‘And I was the target that caught it, but nothing happened,‘ I said to defuse the situation a little.
Tommy's father looked at his offspring a little sharply.
‘Have you just arrived?’ Chrisi asked to change the subject.
‘Yes,’ said Katja, who was happily running around between our legs.
‘And which seat?‘ Chrisi wanted to know.
‘Seat 22,’ said Tommy's mother.
‘That's right next to us,‘ I said.
‘So you're from Bochum?’
‘Yes, they're my parents.’
‘We're from Bochum too,’ she said.
‘So the parents‘ section on the terrace is getting bigger again,’ said Lisa.
Tommy's father looked questioning.
‘We're all from around here, Dirk, Jessica and Jens are from Cologne, Chrisi and Gregor are from Essen and I live in Wattenscheid,‘ said Lisa.
‘The world is small,’ said Tommy's mother and smiled, ‘come on Katja, I promised to buy you an ice cream.’
‘Oh yes mommy, a colourful one, like I always eat,’ Katja replied.
We all started laughing.
‘I fancy an ice cream too,’ said Chrisi, “who else?’
So it was decided: we would all go and get ice cream. We left our things because we wanted to come back afterwards. I quickly ran to my tent to get my money. When I arrived, I saw that there was another tent right next to it.
‘That's mine,” came from behind.
I turned around and saw Tommy standing behind me.
‘I have to be careful at night not to step into the wrong tent,‘ I said, immediately regretting it.
‘Why, it could be fun,’ said Tommy, and disappeared into his tent.
What was that just now? I went to get my money.
‘Coming, Andy?’ I heard Tommy call.
Only my parents usually called me Andy, but somehow I liked it when Tommy said it.
‘Yeah, just a sec. Just changing my shorts.’
When I crawled out of the tent, I noticed that Tommy had also changed. Only in swimming shorts. I had to control myself not to stare at Tommy all the time and, above all, to keep my trousers still.
When we arrived at the restaurant, the others were already waiting. As suspected, Tommy's parents were already sitting with ours.
‘Well Andy, I see you've already made the acquaintance of the force of gravity.’
That came from Lisa's father. So the story was already over, I rolled my eyes in annoyance and noticed Tommy grinning. Katja sat on her dad's lap and licked her ice cream happily.
‘Are you coming up?’ Gregor called from one of the higher terraces.
That was what I liked so much about this place. It wasn't just one big terrace, but connected by small stairs, each leading to a different level. One of them was our regular spot, where we always sat together.
Tommy and I bought an ice cream and climbed up to the others. I dropped onto the only free chair. Tommy, on the other hand, just stood there. I pointed to my leg and he grinned, came over and sat on it.
Everyone looked at us in amazement.
‘Did we miss something?’ Dirk asked in astonishment.
‘Why would you have missed anything?‘ Tommy replied before I could.
I looked sharply at Dirk.
Tommy looked back and forth between me and Dirk and began to grin again.
‘Tommy, would you like to hang out with us tonight?’ I asked Chrisi, taking a breath because Dirk didn't continue.
‘I'd like that, if my parents don't have any objections,’ said Tommy.
‘Don't worry, our parents will take care of them, because they want to have some peace and quiet from their offspring.’
‘And when do we meet?’
‘Around eight, when we've all showered and eaten.’
‘Got it, I'll be there... um, where?’
‘At the front desk.’
‘Okay, I'll be there.’
We all went swimming again later. And after dinner, I ran to the shower house and got ready for the evening. After showering, I stood in front of the mirror and combed my hair.
‘It looks better all messed up like this.’
Tommy was standing next to me again, only wearing a towel around his hips. I couldn't help but notice the small bulge at the front of the towel.
‘Do you think so?’
‘Yes, leave it like that, I like it better,’ said Tommy and made his way back.
I slowly started to wonder whether Tommy had just hit on me or just let loose his opinion about my hair. I really had to talk to him, it couldn't go on like this, but on the first day, just come out and say it?
Hi Tommy, I'm gay, do you want something from me. No, I couldn't do it like that, that was obvious. I packed up my stuff and walked back to our caravan.
*-*-*
I arrived at the reception on time at eight, the others were already waiting. Tommy's outfit caught my eye immediately. He was wearing a cut-off T-shirt that showed off his magnificent abs.
Cut-off jeans that ended just above the knees and trainers. I swallowed.
‘So now that our wimp has finally arrived, we can go,’ said Gregor, for which I could have gone straight for his throat, but Tommy didn't seem to care and continued chatting with Lisa.
So we set off and soon arrived at the small village and the campsite. The girls were drawn to the small clothes shops that were still open at this time, which would be unthinkable at home.
Dirk walked next to me and tapped me on the shoulder. I looked at him.
‘Stop staring at Tommy, it's embarrassing.’
‘That bad?’
‘Worse. I think someone has a crush.’
‘Yes, on the bottles.’
‘Don't start with the sand theory again, although I have to admit, Tommy is hard to read. When I see him flirting with Lisa like that.’
‘Exactly, so just hold back on the comments about me. I want to tell him myself.’
‘Come out?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you think he hasn't already realised it himself?’
‘I don't know...’
‘What I just noticed is that you're usually so particular about your hair, but now it's standing on end.’
‘I know...’
‘And why?’
‘Because Tommy said it looks better.’
‘Aha,’ said Dirk and grinned.
‘Ass.’
‘Same to you.’
We caught up with the others.
Tommy liked what we were showing him. And when Lisa asked if we wanted to watch the sunset together on the small cliff, Tommy was hooked. Of course, there were already a few people gathered there.
We stood there, packed together, watching the disc as it slowly disappeared into the sea. Tommy was standing in front of me and at some point he leaned against me. I felt the warmth radiating from his body. I smelled his hair and fell into a swoon.
When the sun had gone, there was a general mood of departure on the cliff.
‘Do we want to walk back to the campsite via the beach?’ Chrisi asked the group.
It was unanimously agreed. So we descended to the beach, took off our shoes and walked along the water's edge towards the campsite. I was always fascinated by the sight of the coast, how the many lights of the fishing villages sparkled.
After we had discussed what we wanted to do the next day, we said goodbye to each other. I walked to our site together with Tommy.
‘Good night and sleep well,’ Tommy said goodbye to me.
‘You too, good night.’
During the millisecond that we looked into each other's eyes, I would have loved to kiss him good night. He disappeared into his tent. I did the same. With a thought of Tommy I fell asleep smiling.
*-*-*
Against my habit of sleeping late at home, I always woke up quite early here in Italy. I looked at my watch... seven. I got up and ran to the toilet. From there I strolled back to the beach, where the access was just being unlocked.
Last year I had gotten into the habit of going for a run along the beach before breakfast. It did me good to walk alone with my thoughts along the water. I collected a few shells. My thoughts were of course with Tommy.
I had to admit to myself that I had fallen in love with this guy. And after I found out that he really didn't live far from me, Tommy kept gaining more and more brownie points with me, and I started dreaming about what it would be like to be best friends with him.
I looked up and realised that I had walked quite a distance. I turned around so as not to be late for breakfast. When I arrived, my mum was already putting the coffee dishes away. Everything was still quiet at the neighbouring tent, only Tommy's tent was open.
‘Can I help you, mum?’
‘You can get the rolls and, if you want, sausage and milk too.’
Did I actually mention that I'm a total milk fanatic, at home I can even get through five litres a day...
She handed me her purse.
‘And bring Dad his newspaper, you know he can't have breakfast without it.’
‘Don't worry, I would have got those first thing,’ and with that I was already heading towards the shop.
What I liked about this campsite was that it had a shop, a kiosk and a restaurant with a bar. Actually, you didn't have to leave the square. I came to the kiosk and happened to see Tommy buying a pack of cigarettes.
‘For you?’
Tommy jumped. He blushed and stared at the ground.
‘Don't worry, kid, I smoke too.’
‘But you promised...’
‘I always try to cut down a bit when I'm in Italy, so I'll see you later, I still have to buy some rolls.’
I was about to start walking when I remembered the newspaper. I grinned at Tommy, who walked past me and looked at me in puzzlement.
‘I'm getting older, I forgot something,’ I said.
Tommy started laughing.
*-*-*
When I had got the rolls, I set off on my way back. On the road to the campsite there were new arrivals: four caravans and a camper van. Maybe there was something interesting among them. Man, I was only thinking about fresh meat, was I horny? When I came back to the caravan, I saw Katja sitting in front of the tent.
‘Morning, Katja.’
‘Good morning Andreas, you're already awake,‘ she said.
‘Of course, I've already bought bread rolls.’
‘Tommy is still sleeping.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘He's still in his tent and I'm not allowed in there.’
I put the things I had bought at my mother's table and went to Katja.
‘Shall I have a look for you?’ I asked her.
‘Oh yes,‘ she replied.
The zip was undone.
‘Tommy, are you awake?’
Only a “Mmmh” came from the tent.
I took heart and pushed the tent cloth aside.
There lay Tommy, wearing only skimpy shorts on his air mattress, blinking at me.
‘Am I disturbing you?’ I asked quietly.
‘No...‘ came the tired reply.
‘Your sister wants to see you.’
‘Yes, I heard that,’ came the annoyed reply.
‘Tommy?’
‘Yes?’
‘Is something wrong?’
A short silence followed.
‘Can we talk later when we're alone?’
‘Of course, I'd like that,’ I said.
‘And send the little one in, otherwise she won't leave me alone.’
‘Okay, see you later,‘ I said, crawling out of the tent again.
‘So, Katja, Tommy said you can come in.’
‘Yay!’ she shouted and had already disappeared into the tent.
I ran to my mother, who received me with a smile.
‘You're good with kids.’
‘I like them.’
‘So why don't you do something like this for a living?’
‘Mum, who would hire a gay kindergarten teacher?‘ I asked, and my mother lost her smile.
‘At your school, Filbing, he's gay too,’ she said, putting the jam on the table.
I looked longingly at Tommy's tent, where Katja's giggling came from.
‘Oh, I don't know...’
‘You have so many options, Andreas.’
I nodded and dropped onto my camping chair.
*-*-*
‘You can surf?‘ Tommy asked me when I appeared on the beach with my surfboard.
‘Yes, a little,’ I said.
‘Did you hear that, guys? ‘A little’,’ said Dirk, ’Tommy has left everyone behind here so far.’
I blushed, the others grinned.
‘Do you want to go outside with us?‘ I asked Tommy.
‘How does that work?’ he asked.
‘Just be surprised.’
I hoisted my sail and attached the boom. I probably won't retract the centreboard because it's easier for me to balance the extra weight with Tommy. I asked Tommy to lift my board so I could get the sail from the beach.
I fastened it and climbed up. Fortunately there were hardly any waves, but there was a bit of wind.
‘Now lie down over there, feet back,‘ I instructed Tommy.
Meanwhile the whole gang was at the water's edge, making fun of us.
‘I hope it goes well for them,’ Dirk said in the background.
‘I want to take a photo of them,’ Lisa called out.
‘Me too!‘ Katja called, who had also come to the beach with her parents.
–*–
My dad and Tommy's father were standing together.
‘Do you think there's a chance?’ Andreas‘ dad asked.
‘What do you mean, surfing or ...?’ Tommy's father asked.
‘The or...’ he replied and walked back to his lounger grinning.
–*–
I had pulled my sail out of the water, held on to the boom and put it in the wind.
‘Please don't try to steer against me, otherwise we'll both be in the water, just try to trust me.’
‘I am already,’ Tommy said quietly.
I slowly picked up speed and quickly moved away from the beach. I wanted to get out a bit first, where it was calmer. After a while and a quiet ride, I gathered all my courage.
‘What was going on with you in your tent this morning?‘ I asked.
‘What?’ came from Tommy.
‘What was going on with you, Tommy?’
‘Oh, nothing.’
‘Tommy, I've only known you for two days, but I've never seen such sad eyes as I did this morning.’
‘So you've been watching me?’
‘Of course!’
‘What's natural about it?’
I swallowed, should I go for broke, take a risk. He couldn't run away from me here.
‘Because I've fallen in love with you.’

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

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

Part 1
Nils
I'm standing in the kitchen, cutting vegetables, because I've decided to make a vegetable stir-fry tonight. After all the sweets over Easter, I need something light in my stomach.
Behind me, I hear quiet footsteps and just a moment later I'm embraced from behind. Two strong, lightly tanned arms wrap around me and a pleasant breath breathes on the back of my neck.
If you think this is my boyfriend, you're not quite right, because it's just my best friend.
‘Morning,‘ Dennis grumbles without breaking his embrace.
‘Morning? It's almost noon,’ I correct him.
‘Noon? Oh, then it's almost dinner time,’ he grins and his hazel eyes light up briefly before he slides his warm hands under my shirt.
I let out a sigh because he's driving me crazy again. Softly, gently and at the same time so intimately that I want to give myself to him without restraint, he draws small circles on my skin.
It feels like his fingers are leaving traces of fire where he touches me. At the same time, his lips seek out my earlobe to suck and nibble on it. Dennis now knows just how to drive me crazy.
If only Fabian hadn't spent the night here, then Dennis would have to hold back now. Fabian is my boyfriend and has been for almost half a year now. You might think that's not long, but for me it's a very long time.
Besides the necessities of life, only my best friend Dennis exists in my life. It's been that way forever and so far no man has been able to change that. Dennis is my number one in life!
We are the same age, have the same interests and anyone who believes it would say that we are soulmates. We have something like a relationship, except that we don't sleep together. Now you are probably wondering why Dennis is making a move on me, right?
Well, it's a bet. Dennis is an absolute heartthrob, he gets everything and everyone because of his charm, which is simply irresistible. Anyway, to cut a long story short, I bet Dennis two years ago that he wouldn't get me around.
He was once again bragging that he'd had everyone, so I called his attention to me. We have been friends since we were eighteen, but that never occurred to him.
That's why he thought he had to bet with me that he would get me around after all, and I've been betting against it ever since. There is no stake except the fame of succeeding or resisting. Of course, things are now complicated by Fabian, because he must not find out about it under any circumstances.
Although I'm not really sure that he doesn't already know. Because as obvious as Dennis is flirting with me, Fabian is probably thinking his part. I met Fabian at a friend's birthday party.
After a night of chatting, lots of text messages and a subsequent date, we started going out. He is two years older than me and the type of man who has something special about him, although you're not sure what it is. His looks and body are okay, but not breathtaking.
He's the perfect boyfriend, never grumbles, accepts my niggles and doesn't complain about not being my number one. In fact, he's far too perfect if it weren't for one thing – the sex isn't really that great. It's not bad, but it's not something you have to rave about either.
I do come, usually at least, but it's not really satisfying. Somehow I have problems with it to let myself go completely. Fabian really tries hard, but of course he notices that something is wrong.
I try to play it down, but my body is really craving damn good sex. The bad thing about it is that I have someone constantly glued to me who I know is supposed to be divine in bed.
I sometimes wonder what's more important: a perfect relationship or damn good sex? The doorbell rings, luckily interrupting Dennis's actions, because I almost got an erection. So I pull away from the embrace and go to the door to open it.
However, I immediately take a step back, because a bouquet of red roses is thrust in my face.
A familiar voice speaks to me before the bouquet is taken away and I look into two bright green eyes: ‘Sorry I didn't feel like partying yesterday,’ comes from Fabian, while he looks at me with puppy dog eyes.
‘It's okay,’ I reply, embarrassed, and kiss him in greeting.
‘Come on in,’ I add before pulling him by the arm into the apartment and closing the door.
We go into the kitchen because I want to get this over with as quickly as possible. Dennis and Fabian look at each other and greet each other curtly. Fabian's face speaks volumes because he now knows that Dennis has spent the night here, as he is standing in the kitchen wearing only boxer shorts.
Of course Fabian knows how important Dennis is to me, which is why he didn't come on the trip yesterday, as he has done so often, so that we could have time together. Nevertheless, Fabian doesn't really get on well with Dennis, and Dennis can't stand Fabian either.
He thinks Fabian is not good for me, but I'm sure I can decide that for myself, although I'm not one hundred percent sure.
‘So, which one of you is eating stir-fried vegetables with me?’ I try to break the frightening silence.
Fabian nods at me with a smile and Dennis makes a pointed comment: “It depends on what's for dessert.’
A very angry look from me puts Dennis in his place and so he shakes his head: ”I still have plans.’
Relieved by this answer, I get back to preparing dinner and just manage to see that Fabian is also giving Dennis dirty looks before Dennis leaves the kitchen to get dressed.
Fabian asks if he can help me with something and takes a seat at the kitchen table. He can, so I hand him the onions with a board and knife. Am I being mean? I just hate cutting onions.
But since Fabian is a perfect boyfriend, he does me the favour. Dennis says goodbye to me with a peck on the cheek and grumbles ‘Bye’ to Fabian before he leaves my apartment. So now we are alone again and there is an almost suffocating silence.
I prepare dinner while Fabian sets the table. Then he cuts the roses, puts them in a vase and brings them into the living room. I casually notice how he brings order to my little chaos and even makes the bed.
How I hate this perfection, it makes me furious. Breathing deeply, I call Fabian to dinner in a normal voice. It tastes awful, I want a steak right away, and of course Fabian loves the way it tastes.
I could cry, I want to scream, but I control myself as always. After dinner, Fabian helps me wash the dishes, although I would have much preferred to leave the dishes.
After dinner, Fabian always asks the same question when everything seems to be done and sparkling clean: ‘What do you want to do today?’
So, what do I want to do? I want, no, I need really good sex! So I grab Fabian and pull him by the hand into the bedroom. He quickly understands, kisses me passionately and starts taking off my shirt.
Once again, it's all happening way too fast for my liking. How am I supposed to relax? How am I supposed to get in the mood? Fabian undresses me and then himself, before manoeuvring me to the bed. Okay, foreplay doesn't necessarily have to start with mutual undressing, so I try to concentrate on the essentials.
When Fabian's hands touch me, I get goosebumps, but not because he drives me crazy, no, he has ice-cold fingers. I squint my eyes and try to think of something nice.
A hot bath... a sunset... a campfire... but suddenly I have the image from this morning in my head and suddenly it's no longer Fabian lying next to me, pampering me, but Dennis.
His tongue draws a delicate trail of saliva across my upper body. His teeth nibble teasingly on my nipple and his hand, which just seemed as cold as ice, is now burning hot.
This heat wanders purposefully between my legs, awakening a slumbering desire in me that hardly lets me lie still. I reach for his head devotedly, press him to me and run my fingers through my mind's hazel-coloured short hair, which is actually blonde.
Now I can't go fast enough, because I would have preferred to skip the annoying rummaging in my trouser pocket. While I bite firmly on his ear, my own fingers prepare me to receive him as soon as the protection is slipped on.
A groan on my part now drops all inhibitions and so I ride a firm, fast rhythm. While a trail of heat glides up and down my back, occasionally pushing my bottom up and down, I purposefully aim for my climax.
I erupt between two heated bodies after just a few minutes, even before Fabian.
Fabian? It's only now that I come to my senses, literally wake up from my daydream and look into the face of my boyfriend, who is now also coming.
I am shocked at myself and climb down from my horse and take a seat on the edge of the bed. I rummage around in the night drawer for wet wipes to wipe away what has happened.
‘You were really wild today,’ Fabian says, while I get a kiss on the cheek before he disappears into the bathroom.
Oh yes, I was quite and I have to admit that the sex was perhaps extremely short, but also damn good!
*-*-*
I hear the shower, but I still haven't left my seat. Fabian always showers after sex, I only if it was really sweaty, like today. Fabian never needs long in the shower, he's quickly dressed again, and there's no cuddling after sex, unthinkable.
As soon as he's finished in the shower, I rush past him and lock myself in.
I can still hear him saying through the bathroom door: ‘I saw that you hadn't been shopping yet. If you like, I'll go quickly? Or do you want to go together?’
‘No, no, go ahead,‘ I just about manage to get out.
That's typical of him again. I would have found something to eat, otherwise there's always the snack bar or a delicious pizza would be nice again. Well, or I could invite myself to my mother's at short notice or to Dennis’ parents, they're always happy to see me. Or, or, or...
I wouldn't starve if I didn't go shopping. I hear the front door closing, which is perhaps a good thing. Because that way Fabian escapes an argument, so I have to control myself once again, swallow my anger.
I glance at myself in the mirror: my short dark brown hair is all over the place and my blue eyes look somehow tired and empty. Small beads of sweat lie on my normally tanned skin, which now looks much too pale, somehow as if I were ill.
How could this happen? I've never thought of anyone else during sex. Shocked, I turn on the shower and immediately scurry under the warm water jet. With my eyes closed, I let myself drift, washing away what happened and also my guilty conscience.
Everyone thinks about someone else from time to time, and in my case it was my best friend. So what! After drying off, I slip into my comfy trousers and go to the kitchen for a drink. I feel fine now.
Next, I make myself comfortable on the sofa, turn on the TV and flick through the channels. Surely there must be something interesting on? But actually I'm tired and snuggle down into my sofa cushions, only to doze off shortly afterwards.
I only wake up when the doorbell rings. It's Fabian, who else, because Dennis has a key. He's back from shopping, has of course bought way too much, and so I can't help but sigh.
Fabian looks at me confused: ‘Is something wrong?’ he asks me.
‘No, it's fine,’ I reply.
For some reason, I don't want a fight right now.
‘How much do you get from me?‘ I ask instead.
‘Here's the receipt,’ says Fabian, handing me the small piece of paper.
My jaw drops: he has spent 136 euros.
‘What did you buy, caviar?’ I yell at Fabian.
That's too much of a good thing.
‘Calm down, we can do it fifty-fifty, after all, I eat here too,‘ Fabian suggests.
I think I'm going crazy. He can't be serious, can he?
‘That's enough. You don't eat here that often, and what's next? Do you want to move in here?’ I vent my anger.
‘What would be so bad about that?’ Fabian wants to know.
‘What would be so bad about that?‘ I yell at him.
‘Oh yes, right, then Dennis couldn't sleep here with you anymore, or should I say with you?’ Fabian counters at least as loudly.
‘What? ... That's enough! ... Here's your stupid money and then just make sure you get out of here. I don't want to see you anymore.’
With these words, I throw him my last money and add: ‘… never again!’
Fabian slams the door behind him, leaving me alone. It is only now, as the silence fills the apartment, that I realise what I have just done. Tears run down my hot cheeks, which are all reddened because I am so angry or was?
I walk aimlessly around the apartment looking for my phone, which I find in the bedroom next to the bed.
I quickly dial the number, which I already know by heart, and sob into the phone: ‘It's over. I've broken up.’
‘Where are you now?’ Dennis asks calmly.
‘At home,’ I manage to say through my tears.
‘I'll be right with you,’ Dennis says before hanging up.
I slowly let go of my arm and can still hear the dull thud of my phone falling to the ground. Then I slump down on my bed, curl up and weep. Dennis is there really quickly, although it seems like half an eternity to me.
I hear the key being turned in the lock and the jingling of his bunch of keys. He has the pendant from me, a heart with a bell on it and on the heart it says best friends. Then the rustling of Dennis' jacket and the slurping of his shoes, for once he hasn't taken them off like he usually does.
He puts his warm hand on the back of my neck and gently caresses me. With difficulty, I raise my upper body to snuggle up in Dennis' arms. Dennis, my Dennis, he is always there for me. He would drop everything, put off God and the world, so that he could come to me when something is wrong.
The tears are still flowing, or now more than ever, because when you are hugged or comforted, it usually gets worse than before. Dennis gently strokes my back, but doesn't say a word.
Probably so that he doesn't say the wrong thing, since he doesn't like Fabian. But what about me? I've put up with him long enough. How did it have to come to this now? Was it time or is it because I always kept everything bottled up inside?
Should I have said something sooner? Even if I blame myself now, it won't change the situation. I could call Fabian, talk to him again about everything, try to explain what was going on inside of me.
Or I could let Fabian go his own way and concentrate fully on mine. There are many possibilities. But the real question is what do I want?
As I snuggle up to Dennis, I suddenly find myself comparing Fabian to Dennis.
The two are as different as night and day, and I suddenly don't understand what I see in Fabian. It's not that I'm in love with Dennis, but he's really hot and we get along great.
Fabian is just perfect, much too perfect. I can't get on the same wavelength as him, no matter how hard I try. Even the sex would only be good under the same conditions as before.
Fabian deserves a boyfriend who appreciates what he does for him, and that's impossible, me. Maybe it should be the way it has turned out. Dennis takes off his shoes and lies down on the bed next to me. I snuggle up close to him to feel his closeness.
His heartbeat thumps in an even rhythm under me. My eyes burn from crying and I could go back to sleep, I'm so tired. Dennis seems to be tired too, because a yawn comes from him.
He smells good and so I snuggle up to him a little. He won't do anything today, I know that for sure, because he is here to comfort me and not to take advantage of the situation. I can rely on him, because even if he is toying with the idea, he will control himself and that's damn good!

Part 1
It was once upon a morning in November or December. The first class was standing with their teacher in the pouring rain in front of the school, waiting for the bus. It was to be the first school trip for the little ABC shooters. Umbrellas were spread everywhere, and the few who did not find a place under them just put on their caps. Only a small boy stood unprotected in the rain. Slowly, his hair got wet. His mother had given him a woolly hat, but it was stowed somewhere deep down in the backpack he was carrying on his back. Well, hopefully the bus would be here soon.
‘Don't you have a hat? You're getting all wet,’ he suddenly heard a voice behind him. It was the voice of his teacher.
‘Yes, over there,’ the little boy replied, pointing with his index finger over his shoulder towards his rucksack.
He had actually expected his teacher to open the buckles of the rucksack, but she seemed to have misunderstood something, because suddenly he felt her hand close behind his neck.
‘Stop! No! Stop!’ he wanted to scream, but it was already too late. The teacher already had the thin hood in her hand, which was sewn into the inside of his winter jacket, and pulled it out. Hey, he didn't want to put that on! His friends didn't have any weird hoods either! Unfortunately, he could already feel the teacher pulling the thin piece of fabric over his head. Somehow the whole situation made him feel terribly uncomfortable. He would have liked to have sunk into the ground. Where was that stupid bus?
It seemed to take an eternity for the little boy before the big vehicle finally turned the corner and stopped in front of the group. After the driver had opened the door, the boy was one of the first to push his way onto the bus. He took off his hood with relief as he climbed the first step. Now he felt better. Well, at least until later during the journey, when one of his classmates threw up on the bus two rows of seats behind him. Man, that was disgusting! But that has absolutely nothing to do with the following story.
Chapter 1 – The Arrival
We had already been on the road for about an hour and had covered about 100 kilometres when my father pointed to a sign on the left-hand side of the road through the windscreen and informed me that we had now reached our destination. I had been sitting huddled up on the passenger seat the whole time and now sank even deeper into the soft, fine leather. My father indicated and brought his big BMW to a halt to let the oncoming traffic pass. I looked past his head through the left-hand side window. Some rows of trees lined the roadside. The white building looming in the distance behind them was only dimly visible from the road through the dense planting, although the deciduous trees were bare at this time of year. Once the cars in the opposite lane had finally passed us, my father turned into the cobbled driveway and after a few metres we reached a generously laid out car park. Between the individual rows of parking spaces, there was a profusion of trees and bushes, all of which were now ugly brown in winter. It was only after we had passed some of the trees and approached the building that I was able to get a closer look at the expansive four-storey structure. A three-storey side wing bent at a slight angle from the main building. The balconies in front of the windows indicated that these were probably mainly patient rooms.
‘Psychosomatic Clinic Bad Neuheim’ was written on the sign by the roadside. So here I was. During the journey, I had repeatedly asked myself what had happened to me that I now needed to be admitted to this clinic. It was the most depressing Tuesday of my life. I felt like crying, and if my mother had come with me, I might have thrown my arms around her and, despite my age of 19, sobbed uncontrollably. So I was glad that I had convinced her to stay at home. My father would have to go back soon anyway, because an important business appointment had come up at the last minute. I wasn't supposed to be at the clinic until 2:00 p.m., but a lunch with an important client forced my father to drop me off at ten in the morning. His job as the owner of a renowned advertising agency often made it difficult for him to reconcile work and family life. I had rarely held that against him, as he was otherwise a very kind and understanding person and had been incredibly helpful to me, especially since the beginning of my problems. So today, too, I accepted without complaint having to leave my familiar surroundings four hours earlier than planned. I would be here for a few weeks anyway, so a few hours more or less didn't matter.
My father steered his car into an empty parking bay near the clinic's main entrance and turned off the engine. He looked encouragingly over at me and patted me on the shoulder.
‘You'll see, it'll probably be quite nice here,’ he said.
‘That's easy for you to say, after all, you don't have to stay here.’
We unbuckled our seat belts and got out of the car slowly. The cold January air immediately penetrated my thin shirt and made me shiver. There were still some patches of snow in places. I quickly opened the rear door and retrieved my thick black down jacket from the back seat, while my father reached for his overcoat from the other side. As I slipped into my jacket, I spotted two small trolleys under the roof in front of the large glass double swinging doors of the main entrance, which were probably intended for transporting luggage to the rooms.
‘There are trolleys for luggage,’ I said. ’I'll go get one.’
I ran the ten metres over to the entrance and grabbed one of the trolleys. I took the opportunity to take a first look through the large glass windows of the entrance hall. On the right-hand side, behind the large glass door, was a kind of reception, similar to a hotel. Opposite, I saw several seating areas and tables with neatly stacked magazines. A few mainly older gentlemen were sitting at one of the tables, facing each other and appearing to be engaged in a lively conversation. At nineteen years old, I immediately felt a bit out of place here and fervently hoped that there were others my age here as well.
When I returned to the car with the trolley, my father had already opened the boot and taken out two large suitcases. I hoped I had packed enough clothes for the next few weeks. I heaved the suitcases onto the luggage cart. My father added a few more bags and sacks.
‘Do you want me to come in with you?’ he asked after he had slammed the boot shut again.
‘Oh no, never mind,’ I replied. ’You'd better make sure you're not late for your appointment.’
He smiled encouragingly again and held out his hand. As we shook hands, I had trouble holding back the tears. He seemed to notice this and took me in his arms. We stood there for half a minute, hugging each other. A few tears ran down the corners of my eyes, but at least I was able to avoid sobbing. When he let me go again and saw the tears running down my cheeks, he smiled at me and patted me on the shoulder in a buddy-like way.
‘You'll be fine here, David. It's not that bad.’
I wiped the tears from my face with the back of my hand and smiled back in agony.
‘I know,’ I replied. ’It's just a shitty situation at the beginning.’
He squeezed my hand again and then got back in his car, saying, ‘Take care, David.’ As he steered the car out of the parking bay, he waved at me again with a smile. I waved back and watched as his car slowly disappeared behind the trees and bushes and the sound of the engine grew fainter.
When the vehicle had finally disappeared completely from my field of vision, I took a deep breath, grabbed the luggage trolley and pushed it slowly in front of me towards the entrance. The door swung open automatically when I had approached it to within a few metres. A second swinging door a few metres behind the first prevented the cold winter air from entering the large entrance hall. This door also opened automatically, allowing me to pass with my luggage without difficulty. I stopped in front of the reception desk. A young lady with black hair and glasses, who had been sitting at a table a few metres behind the desk in front of a screen, looked up and came towards me, smiling warmly.
‘Good morning, you're here early,‘ she greeted me.
I returned her greeting and responded to her comment with a helpless shrug.
‘What's your name?’ she asked politely.
‘David Kranitz,’ I replied.
She scanned a list and quickly spotted my name.
‘Ah yes, Mr Kranitz. I'm glad you're here. Then let me first of all give you a warm welcome here at the clinic in Bad Neuheim and wish you a pleasant stay.’
‘Hmm, yes, thank you,’ I murmured back.
She handed me a key.
‘This is your room key. You have room 213, which is on the second floor. When you come out of the lift, turn right, it's quite far back in the side wing.’
‘Okay, I'll find it,’ I replied.
‘The patient who shares the room with you has not arrived yet. So you can unpack in peace for now.’
She then explained the rest of the daily routine to me and gave me a note with the relevant times. The first meeting of my therapy group was at 3 p.m., followed two hours later by a welcome address from the head physician. The dining room was open for dinner from 6 p.m. I could have had lunch as well, but was happy to do without. My appetite had been thoroughly lost for the time being.
I grabbed my luggage and pushed it to the lift. For some time now, lifts had also made me nervous. My anxiety and panic attacks had nothing to do with lifts or other confined spaces, but I now knew that this was the case for many other anxiety patients. In the last few months, I had dealt intensively with anxiety disorders and read a few books on the subject. Many situations that triggered panic attacks in other people were therefore very familiar to me and now reminded me of my own problems every time.
I pressed the lift button and heard the lift descend. After a few moments, the door opened and I pushed my trolley in. A petite elderly lady had meanwhile stepped next to me and entered the lift behind me.
‘So you're one of the newcomers,‘ she said when I pressed the button for the second floor. I guessed you were in your late 60s or early 70s.
‘Yes,’ I replied curtly.
‘You'll love it here once you've settled in,’ she continued.
‘Well, I'm not so sure about that yet,’ I replied shyly.
She laughed and said, ’Oh, when I first arrived here, I felt the same way.’
We had now arrived on the second floor and the lift doors opened.
‘I have to go up one more floor,’ said the woman, stepping aside so that I could pull my trolley past her out of the lift. We gave each other a brief nod as the door closed again.
I took another deep breath and set my luggage in motion again. The wheels of the small suitcase transporter immediately emitted a sickening squeak.
There was a larger anteroom in front of the lift. Voices could be heard behind one of the few doors on the opposite wall. Apparently a group session was taking place here. The anteroom led into a narrow corridor that seemed to go on forever. It made a slight bend at the transition to the side wing. There was also a niche with a seating area here, which was, however, empty at the moment. Several windows offered a view of the area behind the clinic. I paused briefly and looked out. On the left side there was a forest area, on the right side there was a small, frozen lake. A few hundred metres behind it, the first houses of Bad Neuheim could be seen. The clinic was located just outside the small spa town. A few people were walking around on the spacious area in front of the clinic, probably patients. Most of them were wrapped up in winter coats, scarves and hats. After looking out for a while, I heard a voice behind me: ‘Hi, are you one of the new ones too?’
I turned around with a start. In front of me stood a young woman, well, more of a girl really. It was easy to see why she was here. She was almost all skin and bones. I had never seen an anorexic in the flesh before. At first, I was speechless at the sight of her.
‘Hello! Yes, I just arrived,‘ I replied after a conspicuously long pause.
She gave me her hand.
‘I'm Nadine,’ she said.
‘I'm David.’
‘Look at your note to see if we're in the same group,’ she suggested. “I'm in group 2C.’
I rummaged in the inside pocket of my down jacket for the note I had received at the front desk.
‘Yes, I'm also in 2C,” I replied after glancing at the sheet.
‘Hey, that's great. Finally a male being in a group with me.’
‘Have you been through something like this before?’ I asked in astonishment.
‘Yes, I think this is the fourth time I've been to a clinic like this. I've been here for an hour already. This way I get to know everyone as soon as they arrive. Isn't that great?’
I didn't know what to say, and smiled back sheepishly. For Nadine, staying in this clinic seemed almost like everyday life, but for me it was completely new and somehow frightening. I felt even more insecure now than I did before I met her.
‘This is your first time in a psycho-clinic, isn't it?’ she asked.
I just nodded. She grinned at me.
‘Don't worry, it's quite fun here,‘ she said cheerfully.
I still didn't know what to say.
‘Well, I'm going to go unpack first,’ I finally managed to say, reaching for the luggage cart.
‘Well, see you later,’ she called after me and continued on her way towards the lift, while I pushed my luggage in the opposite direction down the corridor.
My room was on the left and was the penultimate one in the corridor. I unlocked the door and looked inside. The room looked quite cosy and resembled a hotel room more than a hospital room. Well, this was a health clinic after all. The floor was covered with a plain grey carpet and the walls were painted white. Behind a door on the right was the white tiled shower room with a sink and toilet. In the room, one bed was positioned against the wall facing the shower, the other was placed at a 90-degree angle against the right side wall. On the left side were two large closets. A table and two chairs completed the furnishings. The entire front of the room was taken up by a large window and the door to the balcony. I missed a TV or at least a radio, but both were not wanted in the rooms. At least the rooms were equipped with telephones.
I took my suitcases and bags off the trolley and put them in the middle of the room. As my eyes fell back on the now empty luggage trolley, I groaned quietly. Of course, it had to be returned to the clinic entrance. At the moment, I had had enough of encounters with fellow patients and their clever comments and just wanted to hole up in my room, at least for a while. The thought of having to walk all the way down to the entrance and back again did not appeal to me at all. Nevertheless, I had no other choice. After all, I didn't want to be responsible for other new arrivals having to drag all their belongings around without this ear-piercing squeaking aid. So I just left my luggage and threw my down jacket on one of the beds. Then I locked the room again and pushed the trolley back to the lift. I was grateful that I didn't meet anyone, at least not until I got back down to the entrance hall. I spotted Nadine in the seating area in front of the window, attentively watching the car park and looking for other new arrivals.
‘Well, has anyone else arrived yet?’ I asked as I pushed the car past her to the entrance.
‘Nope, not yet. They'll all arrive just before two, I bet,‘ she replied.
I took the car outside. When I came back, she had got up and was waiting for me right in front of the inner swinging door.
‘Why don't you stay down here with me? We can chat a bit and check out the other newcomers,’ she suggested.
‘I have to unpack my things first.’
‘Oh come on, you can do that later.’
‘I'd rather do it while I'm still alone in the room.’
‘All right,’ she finally gave in.
As I was about to turn around and leave, she asked, “How old are you, anyway?’
‘19,” I replied.
‘I'm 17, but I'll be 18 next month. Then we can party here.’
Her cheerfulness was somehow in stark contrast to her emaciated appearance and confused me. I felt completely insecure around her. Her body seemed so weak and fragile, yet she was bursting with energy. I, on the other hand, had a reasonably well-built body, was not completely unsportsmanlike and did not look bad either. Nevertheless, at the moment I felt like a picture of misery.
‘I'll see you later,’ I said, waving at her. This time I took the stairs. With quick steps, I reached the room again, which I would soon have to share with another patient. Actually, I could have had a single room and was now a little annoyed that I had ticked “double room” on the registration form. At the time, the idea of sharing a room with a handsome boy had seemed very tempting. My homosexuality was still a well-kept secret. Actually, I still wasn't one hundred percent sure if I was gay at all. I knew for sure that I wasn't interested in girls, but somehow it was a bit more complicated for me. Ever since I was a child, I found items of clothing with hoods somehow exciting, although I had no explanation for why that was. At some point, I found out that this was called fetishism and that I was not the only person on this planet to have such strange feelings. However, this realisation didn't necessarily help me either. So, okay, I had a fetish for hooded clothing. Somehow, it made me feel a bit abnormal, but in the end, I had no choice but to simply accept my strange inclination. Besides hooded sweatshirts, I particularly liked winter and rain jackets made of nylon, with thin hoods hidden in the collar. The sight of handsome guys with their hoods up always triggered quite intense feelings in me. My down jacket was also made of black, slightly shiny nylon fabric and had a thin hood behind a Velcro fastener in the collar. It was still lying on the bed where I had carelessly thrown it earlier. Now I picked it up and hung it on the coat rack next to the room door.
After that, I listlessly set about unpacking my suitcases and bags. I opened one of the two wardrobes and gradually piled the contents of my suitcases into the individual compartments. When I was finally finished, it was almost noon. I hoped to have some time to myself before my roommate arrived. I lay down on the bed against the wall facing the shower and took it over for me. I tried to relax as much as possible and listened to the noises in the hallway. Right now there was a lot going on. Apparently, many patients left their rooms to make their way to the dining room. After a few minutes, finally, silence set in. Now everyone was probably down eating.
Chapter 2 – Kevin
After a good quarter of an hour, I suddenly heard voices approaching, accompanied by a rumbling and squeaking. Someone was pushing one of the baggage carts down the aisle. Was this my roommate? If so, he was also here quite early. I listened as the people approached and finally stopped right outside my door.
‘Number 213. This is it,’ I heard a muffled male voice in the hallway.
‘Knock, maybe your roommate is in the room.’
This time it was unmistakably the voice of a woman I heard. I sat up nervously and expectantly. There was a knock on the door several times and after a few seconds I heard the handle being pushed down. I jumped up and looked around the corner of the room door. I felt a shiver run through my body as I caught sight of the boy, who was gently pushed into the room by a hand on his shoulder. He was about my age and about 1.80 m tall. This meant that I towered over him, if at all, by at most one or two centimetres. Long, curly dark hair fell on his pretty face as he bent down to put a travel bag on the floor. He looked at me shyly and held out his hand.
‘Hello, I'm Kevin Winter,‘ he said hesitantly.
‘Hi, I'm David Kranitz,’ I replied as I shook his hand.
He pointed to the two people who had entered the room after him and said quietly, ‘My parents.’
I was so captivated by the sight of Kevin that it took me a moment to take proper notice of the woman and man, who smiled kindly at me. I shook hands with both of them and introduced myself.
‘My, but you have a nice room,‘ the mother said after she had looked around for a while. Kevin just shrugged. He seemed to be just as unhappy about his situation as I was. His parents’ presence probably only made things more uncomfortable for him.
‘Do you mind if I take this bed?‘ I asked to break his silence. I pointed to the bed I had just been lying on. The imprint of my body was still clearly visible on the bedspread.
‘No, it's okay,’ he murmured, hesitantly sitting down on the other bed. He was wearing blue jeans and a light beige sweatshirt. He wasn't wearing a jacket. It was probably somewhere among his luggage. Meanwhile, his father carried two large suitcases into the room and put them down in the middle of the room. I took a step to the side to make room. He had left the luggage cart in front of the door; it wouldn't have fit past the bags that were already next to the wardrobe anyway. The tension in the room was palpable, even for Kevin's parents. No one seemed to quite know what to say. I decided to leave the three of them alone. Surely they still had a lot to talk about.
‘Well, I'm going to go down to the hall. Then you can say goodbye to your parents in peace, okay?’
His parents smiled gratefully, while Kevin just gave me a brief nod and then stared at the floor again. I squeezed past the parents and their luggage and went out through the still-open door into the hallway. I took the now-empty baggage cart downstairs with me. At the transition between the two wings of the building, I discovered a second lift that took me back to the ground floor.
The entrance hall was now full of people. Some were coming from the adjoining dining room, others were already sitting at the seating areas. Nadine was nowhere to be seen this time. I wouldn't have minded her company now. I sat down at the only free table and took one of the magazines from the stack. Without really noticing the content, I flicked through the pages. After twenty minutes, some calm finally returned. The dining room had now emptied and many patients had returned to their rooms or disappeared to various therapy sessions. I was glad that no one had found it necessary to address me the whole time.
I was still leafing through the magazines with little interest when a white VW bus pulled up in the car park. The clinic's logo was visible on the door. The sliding door opened and four young women got out. The driver had meanwhile opened the tailgate and the four of them took their suitcases and bags out of the car. They all seemed to be in their early 20s. I wondered if they were also part of my group. They must have come by train. The nearest town with a train station was about 15 kilometres away, and the clinic picked up patients who came by train from there with the minibus. I watched the newcomers as they endured the obligatory welcome phrases at the reception and then disappeared in pairs with a completely overloaded luggage cart in the elevator. By now, I was almost alone again in the hall. I looked at my watch; it was now 1:15 p.m. Kevin's parents were hanging around with their son for a long time. Well, maybe they were still helping him unpack. I was just about to get up and take a walk around the clinic when the lift doors opened and the two of them stepped out. Only now did I take a closer look at them. The man was probably around 50 and wore a suit and tie. He gave me the impression of a successful businessman. His wife seemed a few years younger. She was wearing an elegant suit that was certainly not cheap. The two of them spotted me immediately.
‘Heinz, there's the young man who's in the same room as Kevin,’ she said to her husband. She spoke just loud enough for me to hear her words. “Maybe we should talk to him.’
Her husband nodded and the two of them came over to me.
‘May we sit down for a moment?” she asked.
‘Of course, please do,’ I replied.
The two of them took a seat.
‘You know, we've been through a lot lately and we're very worried about Kevin. We're not even sure if this clinic is the right place for him. Actually, they didn't want to admit him here at all.’
It was visibly difficult for Kevin's mother to talk about it. Her husband reached for her hand and held it. Then he continued: ‘A few months ago, Kevin's younger brother, our second son, was killed in a bicycle accident. The two of them were on a bike ride together and Kevin had to watch his brother die.’
‘Oh, I'm sorry,’ I stammered. ‘I mean for you, too,’ I added helplessly.
The two nodded gratefully.
‘They were both riding downhill and Marco, Kevin's brother, was apparently going too fast. Kevin was about 50 metres behind him and called out to him to slow down. Marco must have looked back briefly, lost his balance, and fell off his bike. He hit his head very badly and then died on the way to the hospital.’
Kevin's father paused again and sighed deeply.
‘Kevin couldn't cope at all. He withdrew completely in the weeks that followed. He wasn't even at the funeral. He just lay in his room, stared at the ceiling and hardly said a word. We couldn't persuade him to go to school or see his friends.’
Mr Winter shook his head in despair. The memories seemed to trouble him greatly. His wife continued: ‘After a few weeks, Kevin seemed to be getting better slowly, he went back to school and even met up with friends now and then. We thought that the worst was over now. You know, it was already so hard for us to lose Marco. After that, all the worries about Kevin, it was almost unbearable. We were so happy that he seemed to find the courage to face life again.’
She began to sob and opened her handbag to take out a paper handkerchief. While she wiped her eyes, her husband continued:
‘When Kevin was so ill at the beginning, we hardly dared to let him out of our sight. We were always afraid that he would do something to himself. When he seemed to be doing better for a while, we accepted an invitation from friends and went out for the evening. We just wanted to get our minds off things for a while. When he was then alone at home, he must have swallowed all kinds of medication from the medicine cabinet. He was unconscious when we came home. We can be glad that we came back so early and still saw his room. Otherwise he would probably be dead too.’
Mr Winter also had tears in his eyes now. After a long pause, the two continued. Kevin's stomach had been pumped in hospital. When he was physically better again, he had been transferred to the closed psychiatric ward. That had been an additional shock for him. He hadn't been able to cope there at all and had blocked out every form of therapy. His parents had therefore looked for another clinic and had found what they were looking for in Bad Neuheim. But they weren't really geared up for patients who were suicidal, which was still the case with Kevin. Only with a few tricks and good connections was it possible to get him admitted here. He had to promise his parents, on his honour, that he wouldn't harm himself. Only then did they allow him to be transferred here.
‘We thought it would be good if you knew right from the start,’ Ms Winter finally said, ending her speech. “Please keep an eye on him.’
‘Yes, of course, I'll be happy to do that,” I replied. I didn't know what else I should have said. Actually, I felt that the situation was completely overwhelming me. Kevin's father seemed to sense this.
‘We realise that you probably have big problems yourself and can't take responsibility for Kevin as well. We don't expect that. But maybe you could let a doctor or psychologist know if you notice something about Kevin that worries you. You know, a doctor from Kevin's old clinic said that someone who really wants to kill himself can do it in the closed ward. At least there are people here his age, with whom he hopefully gets along better. We believe that he will feel more comfortable here and make faster progress. And he promised us firmly that he won't harm himself while he's here. We believe him.’
His parents finally got up and said goodbye to me. Outside in the car park, they got into a big Mercedes and set off back home. I felt tremendous sympathy for the two of them, and even more so for Kevin. My mood was now completely down in the face of this sad story. I was just about to get up and go to the stairs when Nadine came towards me. At her side was a young girl. She couldn't have been more than 14 or 15.
‘This is Christina, she's in the room with me,‘ Nadine said cheerfully. Her cheerfulness was not at all suited to my current mood.
‘This is David, he's also in our group,’ she then introduced me to her roommate.
‘Hello Christina,’ I said, shaking the girl's hand. Despite my troubled mental state, I couldn't help but immediately find her likeable. She was at least a head shorter than me, had long brown hair and a face that was still almost childlike. She smiled shyly at me and said, ‘Hello.’
‘Are you coming with us to the cafeteria?’ Nadine asked me. ‘We're just on our way there. We still have a good hour.’
‘I have to go back to my room, my roommate is already there.’
‘Why don't you bring him down with you?’ she replied.
‘I don't know if he wants to.’
‘Just ask him.’
‘Okay, I'll see.’
We parted again. I watched the girls enter the cafeteria next to the dining room and went back up the stairs to the second floor.
Kevin wasn't in his room. Maybe he was exploring the clinic. I waited for him for a while and then decided to go down to the girls. I could look for Kevin on the way.
I wandered through all the corridors on the different floors, but couldn't find him anywhere. Somehow I was worried about it. The words of his parents still sounded in my ears. Well, he would surely turn up again. I also had to think of myself and finally get my mind off things so as not to go crazy. So I sat down with the two girls in the cafeteria. Christina had an already half-empty cup of cocoa in front of her. Nadine sipped a glass of fruit tea.
‘Hi, you two,‘ I greeted them.
‘Hey, we thought you weren't coming anymore,’ said Nadine. ‘Where's your roommate?’
I shrugged.
‘I don't know where he is. He wasn't in his room.’
I sat down with the two of them.
‘I don't think he feels particularly comfortable here,’ I added. “I spoke to his parents earlier, and he seems to be pretty miserable.’
‘Oh man, the poor guy,” Nadine remarked sympathetically. ’What's wrong with him?’
‘I think he'd better tell you that himself. Anyway, he's been through some terrible things lately.’
I got myself a coke and then listened to Nadine as she told me about her previous stays in the clinic. She had apparently suffered from eating disorders for several years and had already undergone all kinds of therapy. Christina hardly said a word the whole time. She seemed to be exceptionally shy. Perhaps that was one reason why she was here. At the moment I could only speculate about it.
‘Why are you here, anyway?‘ Nadine finally asked me.
I had always found it uncomfortable to talk about my problems. I would have preferred to avoid the question.
‘Well,’ I said hesitantly, staring at the table top, ‘I'm here because of panic attacks. Anxiety disorder.’
Nadine reacted as if this were the most normal thing in the world.
‘I see. Well, a lot of people have that. I've met quite a few people with it too.’
Actually, I didn't feel like telling her more details about it, but somehow I started to tell her about my first anxiety attack during a math exam. I described how the panic had increased so much that I finally just ran out of the classroom. Afterwards, I told everyone that I had suddenly felt sick. I was allowed to retake the exam a week later. To avoid panicking again, I studied harder than ever before. I was absolutely sure that I had mastered the material one hundred per cent. Nevertheless, after some time, this fear arose again during the make-up exam. At least this time I had been able to control myself enough not to run out of the room again. Nevertheless, I had failed the exam. The feeling of having received a bad grade was far less bad than the memory of the feelings of fear and panic during the exam and the fear that these would occur again during the next exam.
‘That's how it started for me,’ I ended my report. I really didn't want to say more at the moment. I would have to talk about it here often enough in great detail. I was amazed that I had had so few problems telling them both about it without shame. I had never been able to talk about it properly with my parents, and certainly not with friends. The latter had just been wondering what was suddenly wrong with me when I had suddenly missed more and more exams and then sometimes didn't show up at school at all.
‘The group starts in a quarter of an hour,‘ Nadine suddenly said.
I was surprised how quickly time had passed and remembered Kevin.
‘I'm going back to my room quickly,’ I said.
When I got upstairs, Kevin was still missing. The room looked exactly the same as before, apparently he hadn't been here at all. I was starting to get really worried. I went to the front to the large room where our therapy group would meet in a few minutes. It was the room opposite the lift from which I had already heard the voices of another group when I arrived. Maybe Kevin was already there.
The door was wide open and I looked inside. Eight chairs were arranged in a semicircle. In the middle was the chair where the psychologist who led our group would probably sit. So far, I had not met her, I had only read her name on the note. A floor-to-ceiling window allowed a view of the clinic car park. In front of one of the windows, a young woman stood and looked out. When she heard me, she turned around. She asked me uncertainly, ‘Are you here in this group too?’
‘Yes,’ I replied and walked up to her. She was not one of the women who had arrived in the VW bus, and I was seeing her for the first time. She seemed to be in her early twenties, maybe even 25.
I held out my hand and introduced myself: ‘Hello, I'm David Kranitz.’
‘Stefanie Jungbauer. Nice to meet you.’
She had shoulder-length, slightly wavy blonde hair and wore glasses.
‘You just arrived today, too?’ she asked me.
‘Yes. Have you met any of the others in the group yet?’
She shook her head.
‘I have a single room and I only arrived about an hour ago,‘ she explained.
‘Well, I've already met a few of us. As far as I know, the patients here are on first-name terms with each other.’
‘Ah,’ she replied.
For a while, there was an awkward silence and I was glad when Nadine and Christina came through the door and greeted Stefanie. In Nadine's presence, the mood immediately relaxed a little. A little later, another woman came through the door. She had medium-length, straight black hair and was wearing jeans and a wool sweater. I guessed her to be in her early to mid-30s.
‘Oh, good, some of you are already here,‘ she said cheerfully, looking us over one by one. Then she looked at the clock on the wall.
‘Well, the other two should be here soon, then we can start.’
So that was our psychologist.
‘You are welcome to take a seat,’ she invited us, taking a seat on the chair in the middle herself.
I sat down on a chair in the middle of the semicircle, Stefanie on the very outside near the window. Nadine and Christina sat down next to each other on the two chairs between us, moved a little closer together and held hands. The two seemed to have become quite good friends. But with Nadine's open-mindedness, this was no wonder.
A few minutes passed before another person entered the room. I recognised one of the young women from the VW bus. She seemed quite agitated and was a little out of breath.
‘My roommate isn't coming, she wants to leave again,’ she stammered.
‘Yes, she has already informed us of that,’ the psychologist replied calmly. ’Why don't you just take a seat. It looks like we're going to be a small group.’
The young woman followed the instructions and chose the seat right next to me from the four remaining free chairs. She was considerably overweight and was the exact opposite of Nadine. A few beads of sweat ran down her face.
‘Phew,’ she groaned wearily as she sat down. Then she leaned forward a little and smiled at me and the rest of the group. Still a little out of breath, she said, ’Hello, I'm Gudrun.’
Despite her overweight, she actually had a pretty face and seemed quite personable. We told her our names in turn.
‘Well, one is still missing,‘ the psychologist finally said, after silence had fallen again in the room.
The hands of the clock on the wall now showed 3:02 p.m.
‘Kevin wasn't in the room just now. I don't know where he is,’ I said hesitantly.
‘Well, then we'll wait another minute,’ she replied.
We sat in silence for a while, until Kevin finally turned the corner and entered the room with his head bowed and a quiet ‘Hello!’ He sat down without another word on the outermost chair near the door, leaving two seats between him and Gudrun. I was relieved that he was finally there.
The psychologist got up and closed the door.
‘Wouldn't you like to move closer to the others?’ she asked Kevin. ’There's no one else coming.’
Kevin shook his head. I wanted to get up and sit next to him, but then I left it. Apparently he preferred to sit alone.
‘So, let's get started,’ the psychologist cheerfully began her remarks.
‘My name is Fröschl. I am a psychologist and will lead your group. First of all, I would like to welcome you here and hope that you feel comfortable here.’
I looked over at Kevin, who was still staring at the floor and seemed to be anything but comfortable here.
‘As you have already noticed, there are only six of you in the group at the moment,’ Ms Fröschl continued.
‘One patient wants to leave again, she doesn't seem to like it here.’
There was a slightly mocking, almost contemptuous undertone to the last half-sentence. Immediately, my sympathy for our psychologist sank. I could understand only too well why the patient didn't want to stay here, as I had similar feelings.
Ms Fröschl continued: ‘Another patient has not arrived yet and unfortunately we have not heard from him either. At the moment we don't know whether he will arrive later.’
She then explained the therapy process. Groups were always formed from patients of the same age. This was supposedly more effective than grouping according to the type of mental disorder. From now on, the group would meet four times a week from 3:00 p.m. to 4:30 p.m. here in this room. Thursdays were free. In addition, there were special forms of therapy that were determined individually for each patient and tailored to the clinical picture. In the next few days, Ms Fröschl would find out in one-on-one meetings which therapies were suitable for each of us. She also set the dates for these meetings right away. I was scheduled for 10:00 a.m. the next day, and Kevin was an hour later. She was obviously more curious about the men in the group. Or what other reason did she have for this decision?
Finally, she asked us to introduce ourselves in turn and tell her a little about ourselves.
Stefanie started. She was 24 and married. Since the birth of her daughter a few months ago, she had been suffering from depression.
After her, it was Christina's turn. She said her name in a quiet voice. She was 16 years old, which I found hard to believe. I would have guessed you were 15 at the most. Hesitantly, she explained that she was afraid of all kinds of things. For example, dogs and spiders scared her. She could only fall asleep at night with the door open and the light on in the hallway. She only mentioned a few of the things she was afraid of. There seemed to be many more.
When it was Nadine's turn, she provided the first laugh.
‘Well, you can see why I'm here, can't you?’ she said cheekily.
The psychologist had to grin too and said, ’It's nice that you see it so lightly. You seem to be doing quite well here.’
Nadine briefly repeated her medical history, which she had already told in the cafeteria.
When it was my turn, I gave my name and age, just like the others. I said a little about my family, that I was an only child, and then briefly said that I suffered from exam anxiety with severe panic attacks and that I suspected I had taken my high school exams a little too seriously.
Gudrun was 21 years old and here because of her weight and the problems associated with it. She had not yet found a steady boyfriend and was often depressed because of it. Out of frustration, she ate even more. She also had big problems at work because of her weight.
Finally, it was Kevin's turn. He nervously fidgeted with his hands and you could tell that he would have liked to have stood up and run out.
‘I'm Kevin Winter and I'm 18 years old,‘ he said.
He paused and took a deep breath.
‘Do I need to say more now?’ he finally asked quietly.
‘It's your decision what you want to tell us here,’ replied Ms Fröschl. “I'm not forcing you to do anything.’
Kevin looked down again. The psychologist waited a moment and then addressed the whole group: ”You should also meet as often as possible outside of the group and talk to each other. That way you'll get to know each other better and it'll be easier for you to talk about your problems here.’
After that, she answered any remaining questions and dismissed us shortly before 4:30 p.m., not without reminding us of the head physician's welcome address, which would take place in a basement room in half an hour.
Kevin was the first to get up and immediately disappeared through the door.
‘What kind of guy is he?’ Gudrun asked in amazement as she watched him go.
‘He's in the room with me. He hasn't said much to me either,’ I replied, shrugging my shoulders.
‘Strange,’ she said. She seemed to be relatively extroverted and I found her quite nice. It seemed easy to start a conversation with her. After the psychologist had left, we stayed in the room together for a while. While Nadine and Christina chatted with Stefanie, I told Gudrun that I had talked to Kevin's parents and that I could understand why he was acting the way he was. I didn't reveal any details, but also told Gudrun that Kevin himself had to come out with it. I decided to keep it that way. It was probably best for Kevin that way. It was enough to tell the others only enough so that they at least had some idea of an explanation for Kevin's behaviour and didn't exclude him from the group from the outset because of his behaviour.
When I came back into the room, Kevin was lying on the bed.
‘Where were you earlier?‘ I asked him.
He just shrugged his shoulders. Apparently he didn't want to talk to me.
‘Are you coming downstairs? It's almost five,’ I tried again.
‘I'll be right behind you, go ahead.’
At least he said a few words for a change.
The four girls were already waiting in front of the lecture hall door. Besides us, there were about 20 other people here who had apparently also arrived today, but belonged to other groups. They were probably all between 25 and 40 years old. The room seemed to offer enough space for all the clinic's patients. The five of us sat down in the front row, right next to the centre aisle. As time went on, the two rows behind us also filled up, although there were still large gaps everywhere. When the door closed with a loud noise after a while, the chatter in the room stopped. I turned around. The head physician, whose face I already knew from a glossy brochure of the clinic, came down the aisle, followed by a tall man in a blue coat and a petite young woman in a white apron. I spotted Kevin on the other side of the aisle, two rows of seats behind everyone else.
The introductory session began. The head physician, Dr Höfling, introduced himself and the other two people. The man in the blue coat turned out to be the caretaker, and the petite woman was the clinic's dietician. Dr Höfling gave a comprehensive report on the various therapies offered. In doing so, he repeated much of what we had already learned from our psychologist. I soon got bored with his lecture and kept looking around at Kevin. He sat quietly in his chair, looking at the floor. I was slowly getting annoyed by his behaviour.
After about 45 minutes, the head physician finally came to the end of his presentation and handed the lectern over to the caretaker. With the help of an overhead projector, he projected the floor plans of the individual floors one after the other onto the wall and explained the location of the most important rooms, lifts, stairwells and entrances. He explained when the individual entrances were opened in the morning and closed again at night, where smoking was allowed and when the night's rest began. I found his lecture much more interesting than the head physician's talk about the various forms of therapy. Unlike the head doctor, the caretaker seemed to have a sense of humour. He occasionally lightened up his explanations with witty remarks and told the story of a patient who once stood in front of the only entrance door, which was open around the clock, at one o'clock in the morning. The patient still could not get into the building. He had repeatedly tried to push the door inwards, but apparently hadn't considered trying the other direction. He had stood helplessly in the cold for half an hour until a group of patients who had returned to the clinic even later than he had, had simply pushed the door open outwards and stepped past the perplexed man into the clinic. With this story, the caretaker caused uproarious laughter in the room. Only Kevin remained seated with his head bowed.
Finally, the dietician gave us detailed information about meal times, the food available at the clinic, vegetarian food and special diets. When the event finally ended, it was already 6:20 p.m. The dining room had been open for dinner for 20 minutes.
When we went to eat, Kevin had already disappeared again. The dining room was already teeming with patients when we entered. Our group's table was right to the right of the entrance. It was square, with two chairs on each side. Since there were only six of us, two of them would remain free. Well, at the moment there would probably be three, since Kevin had once again left. At a large buffet, you could fill your plate to your heart's content. Various types of bread, sausage and cheese, as well as a range of salads, made the choice difficult. Nadine and Gudrun were spared this difficult decision from the outset. They had already been served filled plates. The calories of their dishes had been carefully counted by the staff.
As we sat at the table together, the conversation immediately turned to Kevin and his strange behaviour. The others didn't seem to find him particularly likeable. Although my own annoyance at Kevin's behaviour grew steadily, I defended him and asked the others to be patient. He would open up in time. When we had finished eating, he still hadn't shown up. I was about to make him a couple of sandwiches and take them up to his room when he finally turned up. He filled a plate at the buffet, then sat down wordlessly next to me and started eating. Meanwhile, the others were discussing how we could spend the evening. You could borrow a wide variety of board games from the reception, and the girls decided on a games evening in the cafeteria. I was in immediately, but Kevin once again said nothing. Christina, of all people, dared to speak to him.
‘Are you in too, Kevin?’ she asked quite shyly, looking at him anxiously. No normal person could have resisted her request.
Kevin was chewing on a leaf of lettuce and took a while to swallow. Then he looked over at Christina briefly.
‘We'll see,‘ he mumbled indistinctly, while he speared the next leaf of lettuce.
‘Oh come on, please!’
Christina didn't give up. She actually managed to get Kevin to give her a brief smile.
‘So will you join us?’ she asked one last time.
Kevin shrugged his shoulders while he cut a piece of his bread with a knife and fork and put it in his mouth.
We waited until Kevin had finished eating. Christina had already got up and gone to the reception to choose a game. She had taken Nadine with her. She didn't seem to dare to go alone. All the more I admired her courage to speak to Kevin. I had already taken the little girl into my heart.
When we finally went over to the cafeteria, Kevin actually came with us. We sat down at a free table and played a board game that everyone except me seemed to already know. My initial ignorance of the rules caused some laughter. Even Kevin couldn't help but grin from time to time. Meanwhile, we only talked about trivial things. Christina and Kevin remained silent most of the time. It was already past 10 p.m. when we finally disappeared to our rooms.
Kevin and I went to the bathroom one after the other. When I came back to the room, he was already in bed. A physical examination of the new patients was scheduled for the next morning between eight and nine o'clock. Reason enough to fall asleep as early as possible. I undressed except for a T-shirt and boxer shorts and lay down in my bed as well. From there I could reach the light switch and turned off the lamp on the ceiling.
‘Good night, Kevin!‘ I whispered over to the other bed.
‘Good night,’ came the quiet reply.
I never normally went to bed before midnight. The new environment also made sure that I couldn't fall asleep. Kevin seemed to be having a similar experience. He tossed and turned restlessly in bed. I kept glancing at the fluorescent hands of my alarm clock. It was 11 p.m., 11:30 p.m., midnight, 1:30 a.m., 2 a.m. I must have fallen asleep at some point, because the next time I looked at the hands, they were at 3:35 a.m. Strange noises were coming from somewhere. It took me a while to orient myself. It was only slowly that I realised what was going on. The noises were coming from Kevin's corner. He was crying. Startled, I sat up.
‘Kevin?’ I whispered.
I heard him turn around in bed. The next sob was muffled.
‘Kevin?’ I whispered again.
When there was still no answer, I switched on the reading lamp above my bed. The room was only dimly lit by the bulb behind the smoked glass. The chairs and the table cast large shadows on the wall. It took a while for my eyes to adjust to the light. I had to blink a few times. Kevin had buried his face in the pillow. His body jerked under the duvet with every sob. I flipped back my duvet and sat up.
‘Hey,’ I whispered a little louder.
No reaction again.
I got up, walked slowly over to him and leaned over his bed. As I was about to put my hand on his shoulder, he quickly turned away.
‘Leave me alone,‘ I heard muffled through the pillow.
‘Haven't you slept yet?’ I asked hesitantly.
He shook his head slightly.
‘Do you want me to get someone?’ I asked him. ’They can certainly give you a sleeping pill or something.’
He shook his head again.
‘Hey, I can't just leave you here like this.’
No answer.
‘I'll call the control centre downstairs, okay?’
Again, he didn't react. At least there was no more rejection. I had the feeling that he needed help urgently. The phone was on a small cabinet between the two beds. I picked up the receiver and scanned the list of internal numbers lying next to the phone. ‘Medical Centre: 20’ was written on it. I pressed the two number keys and waited for someone to pick up.
‘Hello? This is room 213. David Kranitz,’ I said into the receiver. “Kevin's not feeling well, I don't think he's slept yet.’
The voice on the other end of the line assured me that someone would be up in a moment.
‘Someone's coming,” I whispered to Kevin after I had hung up. He still had his face buried in the pillow.
I went to the door, opened it and looked out into the corridor. Only the emergency lighting was on. I heard the lift doors open at the junction between the two wings of the building. A few moments later, a woman came down the corridor. She was in her forties, quite small, had short-cropped hair and was dressed normally. The medical personnel here generally did not wear white coats. As she approached, she smiled at me.
‘Well, are there problems?’ she asked quietly when she reached our room door. I pointed over to Kevin's bed. She entered the room and approached Kevin.
‘I'm Dr Ballheim,’ she introduced herself. “Can I help you?’
I closed the door again and sat down on my bed.
‘When I woke up earlier, he was crying. I don't think he's slept at all,” I said.
Kevin sat up slowly. His eyes were red. There were several damp spots on the pillowcase.
‘Can't you give him something to help him sleep?’ I asked. I was shivering, partly from the cold, partly from excitement, and pulled the blanket up over my thighs.
The doctor asked Kevin if he wanted to talk to me. Kevin just shook his head.
‘It would be better if you told me what is going on inside you,‘ she said sympathetically. Kevin couldn't utter a word. He seemed completely exhausted and I felt incredibly sorry for him. Finally, the doctor pulled a strip of pills out of his pocket and pressed out one of the tablets.
‘Could you please get a glass of water?’ she asked me.
‘Yes, sure.’
There were still two unused glasses on our table. I took one of them and filled it with cold water at the sink in the shower. I handed it to the doctor. She gave Kevin the tablet in one hand and the glass in the other.
‘I'm going to give you something to help you fall asleep. But you should start talking about your problems as soon as possible, okay?’
Kevin nodded, put the tablet in his mouth and drank some water.
‘Thank you,‘ he said quietly and crept back under his bed covers.
Dr Ballheim turned to me.
‘Well, you look pretty shaken up too,’ she said.
‘I'll be fine,’ I replied quietly.
‘He'll be asleep in a minute. The tablets work quickly. Thanks for letting us know.’
‘Well, I couldn't just leave him lying there.’
‘Feel free to call me if anything else comes up. I'm on night duty until next week.’
I locked the door behind her and went back to bed.
‘Are you okay?’ I asked Kevin before turning off the light again.
He nodded.
The incident had pumped a good amount of adrenaline into my veins and it took me quite a while to fall asleep again. Kevin had long since been in a deep sleep. The pill had actually worked quickly.
Chapter 3 – Confessions
It was just after half past seven when I woke up on Wednesday morning. My alarm clock hadn't rung yet. I felt like I'd been beaten up. My fitful sleep in the second half of the night had been anything but restful. Kevin was still fast asleep. I wholeheartedly allowed him his rest. Quietly, I took fresh clothes from my wardrobe and stood under the shower. I stayed under the tingling jet of water until I felt reasonably fresh and alert again. When I came back to the room wearing a T-shirt and boxer shorts, Kevin was already dressed. I wished him good morning.
‘Morning,‘ he replied quietly. He still seemed quite depressed and down.
‘I'm sorry about last night,’ he said after a while.
I had put on socks in the meantime and was just slipping into my jeans.
‘Hey, don't be sorry,’ I replied. ’Really, don't be.’
‘I'm sure I'm no fun to have in a room with me.’
Actually, I couldn't disagree with him. I felt completely overwhelmed by the situation. On the other hand, I felt the urge to stand by him and help him as best I could. Besides, I still thought he was incredibly sweet.
I patted him on the shoulder and said encouragingly, ‘It's okay.’
While Kevin went into the bathroom, I took one of my hooded sweatshirts out of the closet and slipped into it. My mental state seemed to be slowly improving, because I really enjoyed feeling the thick hood on my head. The day before, I would hardly have enjoyed it. I only took off the hood when Kevin opened the bathroom door again.
Then we both went down to the medical centre. Some of the other newcomers were already waiting in front of the door, but I didn't see anyone from our group. When it was finally our turn, they first took the cups with our urine samples from us. Then we were weighed and measured. After measuring my blood pressure and taking a blood sample, the tiresome procedure was finally over. Kevin had finished before me and was waiting for me outside the door.
‘Shall we go and get breakfast?’ he asked when I came out.
I was pleased that he hadn't disappeared again straight away, as he had done before, and I was happy to come with him. We were the last of our group to arrive in the dining room that morning. Only Gudrun was still sitting at the table, but she had also finished already. The others had already gone back to their rooms. There was a breakfast buffet again. I returned to the table with two rolls, some butter, cheese spread and veal liver sausage. I wasn't a big fan of jam and honey. There was already a pot of hot coffee on the table. Gudrun had filled it up for us at a container in the middle of the dining room. I actually prefer drinking tea for breakfast. But since she had gone to all the trouble, I enjoyed a cup of coffee for a change.
Gudrun had some bad news for us. Stefanie had decided to leave the clinic. She felt guilty about leaving her young child alone with her husband and his parents. She had hardly slept the night before, wracked by feelings of guilt for abandoning her child. She had announced her decision to the others at breakfast. Her husband would pick her up later.
I wasn't particularly sad to hear it; after all, I hardly knew Stefanie. She was a few years older than the rest of us and I had had the impression that she didn't really fit into the group anyway.
We took our time eating and Gudrun kept us company until we had finished. Kevin was still not particularly talkative, but at least he said a word or two. Gudrun, on the other hand, was becoming more and more likeable to me. It couldn't be that difficult for her to find a man somewhere who would like her just the way she was.
I had only a short time left before my one-on-one with Ms Fröschl, which I used to get drinks and some sweets from the clinic's kiosk. Kevin had come with me and took my purchases, along with his own, to our room, while I marched straight to the psychologist.
Our conversation lasted a full hour. She wanted to know my entire life story in great detail. When the subject of sexuality came up, I told her that I thought I was gay. She was the first person to whom I had ever revealed this. However, I did not mention my fetish. Of course, she also wanted to know everything about my anxiety attacks. She finally assigned me to an anxiety management group and prescribed autogenic training for me.
When I left her room shortly after eleven, Kevin was already waiting outside the door.
‘It's not that bad,’ I encouraged him. He seemed to need some cheering up.
‘I'll wait for you in our room, okay?’
He nodded at me and hesitantly entered the psychologist's room.
Half an hour later, he was back. He seemed quite distraught and looked downcast. Apparently, the conversation had not gone particularly well. I refrained from saying things like ‘That was quick!’ or ‘Back already?’
He sat down on his bed and I went over to him.
‘Do you mind if I sit next to you?’ I asked him.
He looked up briefly and then shook his head. Then he hung his head sadly again.
I sat down on the bed next to him and put an arm around his shoulders. I had no idea what to say to cheer him up a little. I silently ran my fingers through his long, curly hair and then massaged his shoulder for a while. He didn't seem to have any objections to this. We sat in silence for a while.
‘You haven't told her much, have you?’ I asked cautiously at some point.
He shook his head slightly. I felt helpless. I just couldn't think of the right words. After all, I wanted to help him and not make the situation even more difficult for him.
‘I just can't talk about it,’ he finally said himself. His voice sounded desperate. I would have loved to take him in my arms, but I didn't dare. I had no idea how he would react to it.
‘If there's anything I can do to help, just say so, okay?’ I finally managed to say. Again, I wasn't sure how he would take my words. I tried desperately to make him understand that I was always there for him if he wanted to talk or needed help, but I had no idea how to build a real relationship of trust with him. It seemed endlessly difficult to get through to him.
When he finally nodded and stammered, ‘Okay,’ I was relieved.
‘Are you coming downstairs? It's almost time for lunch,’ I asked him.
He shook his head.
‘I can't eat right now.’
Actually, I wasn't hungry yet either. I didn't usually eat two rolls for breakfast. I usually contented myself with a cup of tea and a piece of dry cake, if I ate anything at all.
‘We can also go into town,’ I suggested. ’It's time I got out of here. Maybe then you'll get other ideas too.’
He didn't seem particularly enthusiastic and shrugged indifferently. I got up and tried again.
‘Hey, come on. I think it'll do us both some good.’
He sighed deeply, but then got up. While he took out a dark green and light beige snowboard jacket with a hood from his wardrobe, I was already slipping into my shoes and down jacket. I spread the hood of my thick grey sweatshirt over the collar of my jacket. After he had also dressed, we took the lift down to the cellar. This is where the entrance to the back of the building was, which was open 24/7. From here, a footpath ran past the small lake directly to the centre of Bad Neuheim.
‘Wow, pretty cold,’ I said as we stepped outside. The air on this January day was icy and there was a light but unpleasant wind. We zipped up our jackets up to our chins and started walking.
‘Do you know how to ice skate?’ I asked him as we approached the lake. Earlier that morning, I had seen two people skating on the opposite side of the lake, so the ice seemed to be strong.
‘Yes, but it's been a few years. And you?’
‘No, but I've got inline skates. Maybe you can rent skates here somewhere. Then I could give it a try.’
When we reached the lake, I climbed down the embankment to the ice. There were footprints everywhere and the grooves of countless skate runners could be seen. Kevin followed me and we slid around on the ice for a while. As time went on, we approached the houses of the village. To be on the safe side, we always stayed close to the shore. The water here could hardly be deeper than a metre. Kevin's mood seemed to be slowly improving. When we had reached the opposite side of the lake, the first house was only a few hundred metres away. We had become quite warm from romping around.
The town had a population of about 5,000. It was still quite a way to the town centre with the shops. As we walked side by side, I got to talk to Kevin for the first time. I told him about my family. About my father, whose advertising agency always kept him on his toes, and about my mother, who worked in the freight company that my grandparents had built up after the war. In a year or two, my grandfather would finally retire from the business. Then he would sign over 50 percent of the company to each of my mother and my uncle, and the two of them would run the business together. Since my anxiety disorder had become more serious and my grandparents had also become more aware that something was wrong with me, my grandfather had even considered transferring a share of the company directly to me for a while, so that my future would be secure. It had taken a lot of effort to convince him that this was not necessary.
Kevin's father was a lawyer and notary, not the managing director of some company, as I had initially assumed. His mother ran a boutique with a friend. After briefly telling me about his parents, he became silent.
‘Do you have any brothers or sisters?‘ he asked quietly after a while.
I was startled. Did he want to tell me about his brother now?
‘No,’ I said curtly, shaking my head.
I didn't dare to ask him the same question now. Did he expect that from me now? After all, he couldn't know that I knew about his brother's death. Or did he suspect that his parents had talked to me?
We both remained silent for a while. Finally, I dared to at least indirectly broach the subject with him.
‘Kevin?’ I began hesitantly.
‘Yes?’
‘I think I should tell you something.’
‘What?’
‘I met your parents yesterday in the entrance hall before they left.’
Kevin suddenly stopped. He seemed to suspect what I wanted to tell him.
‘Did they tell you something?’ He asked. He seemed a little frightened.
I turned to him and nodded.
‘So you know, then?’
‘Well, they told me the most important things,‘ I shrugged.
I was afraid he would run away now. I still couldn't gauge his reactions properly. For a moment he just stood there silently and looked at me.
‘All right,’ he finally said, taking a deep breath.
‘Are you all right?’ I asked him.
He nodded.
‘Have you told the others anything yet?‘ he wanted to know.
I shook my head.
‘Thank you,’ he finally said.
‘For what?’ I asked in puzzlement.
‘For not blabbing everything right away.’
‘Why should I have done that?’
He shrugged. We stood silently facing each other for a moment.
‘Come on, let's go,‘ he finally said.
We strolled through the town until we passed a small café.
‘I'm getting hungry,’ I remarked. ‘Shall we go in?’
Kevin agreed. I had become really cold again and was looking forward to the warm room.
At lunchtime, the café also offered a few simple hot dishes. I ordered a portion of fried potatoes with scrambled eggs and a glass of hot tea. Kevin opted for a slice of toast with ham and cheese and a coke. He seemed to have regained some of his appetite.
I rubbed my half-frozen ears.
‘Aren't you cold at all?’ I asked Kevin.
He just shrugged.
We didn't talk much as we sat at the table waiting for our food. Kevin didn't seem to want to talk about his brother anymore. Maybe I had already destroyed his willingness to do so with my confession. When the waitress finally brought our plates, we had completely run out of things to talk about. We ate in silence and paid as soon as we were finished.
‘Shall we walk a little further or do you want to go back?‘ I asked Kevin when we had left the café and were standing indecisively on the pavement.
‘We still have time, don't we?’ he asked back.
I looked at my watch. It was just 1:30 p.m. Still an hour and a half before the group meeting started.
‘Yes, enough,’ I replied.
‘Well, we don't have to go back earlier than absolutely necessary because of me.’
‘So you're quite happy that you came out, aren't you?‘ I asked, smiling.
He grinned, but quickly became serious again.
‘I'm not here in the clinic voluntarily. It was just the better alternative,’ he finally said.
‘I know,’ I replied quietly.
‘So they told you that too.’
I nodded.
‘Come on, we'll walk to the other end of town,‘ I finally suggested.
‘If you're not too cold?’ he asked back, concerned.
I took the opportunity to finally pull the hood of my sweatshirt over my head.
‘I'm fine,’ I replied, burying my hands in the pockets of my down jacket.
When we finally started moving, he grinned at me.
‘You could have put these on earlier,’ he remarked.
I shrugged my shoulders.
He now reached for the hood of his snowboard jacket himself and put it on. I couldn't help but watch him out of the corner of my eye as he did so. With the hood on his head, I thought he looked even cuter than usual. A few of his long curls peeked out from under the hood. I found the sight of him extremely arousing and had to control myself not to stare at him.
‘Was it your decision to come here to the clinic?‘ He asked when we had walked a few metres.
‘More or less,’ I replied. ‘I hardly went to school at the end. I completely missed the last three exams. I could have written off my A-levels for good if it had continued like this.’
‘It doesn't really matter to you if your parents have so much money.’
I shrugged.
‘That's what my grandfather says: ‘Son, forget your A-levels. Come here to the company, you don't need A-levels for that. You won't learn anything at school that you can use here.’’
We both had to laugh. It was the first time I'd heard Kevin laugh out loud.
I told him more about my grandparents. My grandfather was the only one who had kept a cool head in the last few months. My parents had been just as unable to cope with the new situation as I had been, and they had also been just as desperate from time to time. The last few weeks in particular had been quite tearful at times. Without my grandfather, everything would have been even harder. He was the only one who had treated me like a normal person the whole time, but without taking my problems any less seriously. Time and again, he had shown me possible solutions; the work in his company was just one of many. Through an old friend, a retired psychiatrist, I had finally ended up here in the clinic.
We had really hit it off again, even though I mostly talked about myself and my life. But Kevin listened with interest and asked a lot of questions. We had just passed the last house and reached the town sign when he asked a question that I had anxiously expected for some time.
‘Do you actually have a girlfriend?’ he wanted to know.
Had the moment of truth arrived? Should I tell him that I was gay? How would he react to my confession? The clinic was a long way off. If he reacted angrily or uncomprehendingly, or was even horrified at having shared a room with a homosexual, the journey back would be sheer hell. Somehow, though, I didn't have the impression that he would react so negatively. I thought I knew him well enough by now. So I gathered all my courage and carefully formulated a question: ‘Would you have a problem if I told you I was gay?’
I didn't dare look at him, staring instead at one of the posts at the side of the road.
His reaction was immediate.
‘Really?‘ he asked. He didn't sound angry or horrified, but somehow curious or amused. When I looked at him furtively, he shook his head and grinned.
‘What?’ I asked in puzzlement. I couldn't make sense of his reaction. ‘Why are you reacting like that?’
‘Sorry,’ he said briefly, grinning the whole time.
‘What's so funny about that? Are you gay too, or what?‘ I asked, not understanding.
‘Nope,’ he said, stretching. ‘I'm not gay.’
I was a little disappointed. Secretly, I had had hopes, although of course the probability was low.
‘At most a little bit bisexual,’ he added. ’But I think that's what everyone is.’
He still hadn't told me what his strange behaviour was all about.
‘Then what's your reaction?’ I asked again. “Is it so funny that I'm gay?’
‘No, don't worry. I don't mind that you're gay, honestly,” he finally said. ’Two of my best buddies are gay. I've often stayed in a room with them and even went camping with them last year. So I really don't have a problem with it. I just think it's so funny because I somehow always meet people who are gay. And now you too. Actually, I should have guessed.’
‘Oh, I thought you were making fun of me,‘ I said, relieved.
‘Hey, don't worry, it's okay,’ he replied, patting me on the shoulder.
I was glad that he now knew. We made our way back. The subject seemed to be closed for him, because from now on we chatted about a variety of other more or less inconsequential topics. The closer we came to the hospital, the quieter Kevin was again. Silently, we finally reached the entrance down in the basement. We took off our hoods and entered the lift. We only had about ten minutes left until the group session.
After we had delivered our jackets to the room, we went together to the front of the group room. Kevin sat down next to me this time. Gudrun was kind enough to slide a chair closer to the door. Stefanie's seat remained empty. She had left in the meantime.
Nadine and Gudrun did most of the group session on their own. They seemed to be the most open and talkative in the group. Gudrun mainly talked about how she had been bullied by her colleagues because of her obesity. I got really angry when I heard what she had to endure, and I couldn't help but use a swearword or two about her colleagues. Nadine continued to talk about her past therapies. I was surprised that she never spoke directly about her anorexia and the reasons for it. She seemed to be hiding some kind of secret.
After Frau Fröschl had left at the end of the session, we remained standing in the anteroom in front of the lift for a while. Gudrun told me about some more experiences at her workplace. She gave vent to her pent-up anger about her colleagues and only stopped talking when she had let off enough steam and felt better.
I spent the rest of the time until dinner with Kevin in our room. We lay on our beds, dressed, and exchanged a few words from time to time.
‘Gudrun was really going at it, wasn't she?’ Kevin stated.
‘Yes, but I can understand her. If I were her, I would be just as angry.’
‘Somehow I think she's quite nice.’
‘Hey, she's totally nice.’
‘If only she wasn't so fat...’
‘Man, it's not her fault,‘ I defended her.
‘Yeah, I know, I didn't mean it like that either. She'd actually be quite pretty if... you know. If she lost some weight.’
I grinned over at Kevin.
‘Then you might even like her, right?’ I asked.
‘Oh, I don't know. I just kind of like her. Lately, I've just seen very few pretty girls.’
‘I wouldn't have a problem with that,‘ I remarked, grinning.
Kevin grinned back.
‘There aren't that many cute guys here either,’ he replied teasingly.
‘Well, you're here,‘ I replied jokingly.
‘Are you maybe hot for me, or what?’ he asked back, also jokingly.
I became a little embarrassed and looked at the ceiling.
‘And if it really were so?’ I asked quietly after a short moment without looking at him.
Anxiously, I waited for his reaction.
‘Well, as long as you don't rape me at night...’ came from Kevin's corner after a long pause.
When I looked over at him, he had sat up and was grinning broadly at me.
‘Oh man, you've got a sense of humour,’ I said, relieved.
For the first time, I could really imagine what Kevin must have been like before his brother's death. The accident must have completely changed his life from one day to the next.
For a moment there was silence.
‘Seriously, you think I'm pretty hot, don't you?’ he asked after a while.
I shrugged.
‘You are cute. What can I do?’
My voice sounded almost a bit desperate.
‘It's okay. I don't blame you.’
He smiled at me. I was amazed that he took it all so lightly. At the same time, of course, I was infinitely relieved. If I wanted to build a real relationship of trust with him, he simply had to know the whole truth. At some point, I would probably tell him about my fetish as well. But I wasn't ready to do that yet.
Chapter 4 – Nightmares
We spent the evening with the girls in the cafeteria. Christina chose the games for us again. When we came back to the room after 11 p.m., I was tired and exhausted. The little sleep the night before and the long walk with Kevin were slowly making themselves felt. I undressed and went to the bathroom briefly. Shortly after I fell into bed, I was already asleep. Kevin had been relatively cheerful and in a good mood all evening, so I hadn't worried about him anymore. As I fell asleep, I had no idea that another painful night lay ahead of him.
I woke up shortly after two o'clock. Normally, I would have just rolled over and fallen asleep again immediately if the room hadn't been illuminated by the moonlight. Somehow, I must have registered that while half asleep. It must have taken a minute for me to be halfway awake and orientated. When I finally opened my eyes properly and looked to see where the light was coming from, I saw Kevin's silhouette in front of the balcony door. He had drawn back the curtain in front of the door and was looking outside through the window. Apparently he hadn't yet noticed that I had woken up.
I quietly sat up in bed.
‘Kevin?’ I whispered to him.
He quickly wiped the back of his hand over his eyes, then turned his head to the side and looked over at me briefly. After a moment, he looked out the window again.
‘Can't you get to sleep again?’ I asked him quietly. I wanted to avoid at all costs that my voice sounded annoyed or even reproachful.
He shook his head slowly.
I threw back the bed cover, stood up and walked slowly over to him. It was cold in the room and I shivered without my warm blanket. Only when I was standing directly behind him did I notice that he was trembling all over.
‘Man, you're freezing,’ I said, quite shocked.
I quickly went over to Kevin's bed and got his blanket. His bed felt very cold. He had obviously been standing there for quite a while. I carefully put the blanket around his shoulders. He willingly reached for it and wrapped it around his body as best he could. I hugged him from behind and gently pressed him against me. His curls tickled my right ear. We stood there in silence for a while. Again and again, he wiped a few tears from his eyes with the corner of the blanket. Every now and then he sniffled. At least he stopped shaking over time.
‘The nights are hell,’ he finally said softly. His voice trembled. ’Absolutely horrible.’
He fell silent again and stared into the night. I was now standing right next to him in front of the window, my arm around him, stroking his shoulder. You could just see the outermost row of the clinic car park over the balcony railing. A few lamps cast ghostly shadows on the pavement. The silhouettes of the trees in the background were clearly visible in the moonlight. Occasionally, the headlights of cars still passed behind the thick trunks at this time of night. The moon was directly above our window in the starry sky. It was full moon.
‘Hey, I'm with you,‘ I whispered to him. I didn't know if my words could help him in any way. I felt helpless and completely overwhelmed by the situation.
‘As soon as I lie in bed, I keep seeing the images of the accident in front of my eyes,’ he continued after a while. ‘Every night.’
I gently stroked his hair. Again, he was silent for a while.
‘And when I finally do fall asleep, those damn nightmares come.’
There was so much despair in his voice that I now had tears in my eyes myself.
He slowly turned to me and looked at me with sad eyes. A few tears ran down his cheeks. They sparkled in the moonlight.
‘I don't know how I'm going to be able to bear all this,’ he said, his voice choked with tears. Then he sobbed, laid his head on my shoulder and began to weep uncontrollably. I embraced him and held him as tight as I could. Tears were now running down my face, too. I slowly guided him over to his bed and we sat down on the edge of the bed next to each other. I still held him tightly and let him cry on my shoulder. I don't know how long we sat there like that. Only slowly did he calm down again. At some point, he carefully extricated himself from my embrace and wiped away his tears.
‘Oh man,‘ he sighed deeply and shook his head.
Only now did I realise that my legs were ice cold and I was freezing. Although Kevin still had the blanket wrapped around his upper body, his feet and thighs had also been exposed to the cold in the room the whole time.
‘Are you cold?’ I asked him.
He nodded.
‘Come on, get back into bed.’
He obeyed and I helped him cover himself up. I wrapped the blanket tightly around his legs. Then I quickly got my own blanket, wrapped myself in it and sat down on the bed next to Kevin. Kevin lay on the pillow facing me and looked at me.
‘Should I call the doctor again?’ I asked him.
‘No,‘ he replied firmly, adding an almost pleading “Please don't!’
‘Why not?” I asked back.
‘Please,’ he said again. ‘I'm afraid they'll send me back to the psychiatric ward if I need help every night.’
He was close to breaking down again.
‘What makes you think that?’
‘I don't know, Fröschl made a strange comment this morning. About last night and everything.’
I was completely at a loss. What should I do?
‘Do you think you'll be able to sleep now?’ I asked him after a while.
I saw him shrug his shoulders. The moonlight was still shining through the open curtain. Maybe I should have turned on the light earlier.
I didn't know how to act. On the one hand, I didn't want to go against his wishes, but on the other hand, it was clear to me that Kevin actually needed the doctor's help again. I found myself in a dilemma. I sensed that he was on the verge of opening up. If he went back to the psychiatric ward, this progress would probably be undone. Besides, I had grown fond of him and didn't want to spend time here without him. But my feelings didn't count now; it was only about what was best for Kevin. Unfortunately, I was anything but sure about that.
‘All right,’ I finally said. “I won't go and get anyone for the time being. Maybe you can go to sleep now.’
‘Thanks,” he said quietly.
I stood up. With the blanket around my shoulders, I walked over to the balcony door. As I was about to close the curtain, I heard Kevin say, ’Can you please leave it open?’
‘Yes, sure,‘ I replied and made my way back to my bed.
‘David?’ Kevin said quietly as I was about to lie down.
‘Yes?’
‘Can you stay with me?’
‘I'm here, aren't I?’
‘No, here by my bed,’ he whispered shyly. ’Can you lie down in bed with me? Until I fall asleep?’
‘If you want?’
‘Yes.’
I took my pillow and my blanket and walked over to him. He turned on his side and moved his pillow close to the wall. I put my pillow next to his and wrapped myself in my blanket. Then I lay down on the mattress next to him.
‘Try to sleep now,’ I whispered to him. I put an arm around his body and stayed as still as possible so as not to disturb him as he fell asleep. After three quarters of an hour, I could tell from his steady breathing that he had finally fallen asleep after all.
I rolled very carefully out of bed and crept over to my own. I didn't think I would be able to fall asleep again. The events of the night had been too disturbing. But sometime well after four o'clock I must have dozed off again.
Shortly after seven I was woken by a scream. I was wide awake in an instant. It was still dark outside, the moon had disappeared. It would soon begin to dawn. When I looked over at Kevin's bed, I saw the silhouette of his upper body in the dark. He sat upright in bed and breathed heavily. I turned on the light. He had put his hands behind his back and hung his head. I got up and knelt down beside his bed. He was sweating profusely. Drops of sweat stood out on his forehead. His T-shirt stuck to his back.
‘Did you have a nightmare?’ I asked him quietly.
His nod was almost unnoticeable. He seemed completely distraught and barely seemed to notice me. He didn't say a word or even look at me.
‘I'm going to get help, okay?‘ I said. That was more of a statement than a question. He didn't answer me anyway. At the moment he seemed to be completely without willpower.
I picked up the phone and dialled the number for the medical centre.
‘Central, Dr Friedrichs,’ a male voice answered.
‘This is room 213. Can I speak to Dr Ballheim, please?’
‘She just left. She's only on duty until seven o'clock.’
‘I see,’ I said. “I need a doctor.’
‘Yes, what's wrong?” the voice replied.
‘My roommate had a bad nightmare. He's completely exhausted.’
‘Tell him to come down to the control centre.’
‘Can't you come up?’
‘Is he physically unable to come himself?‘ the voice asked.
‘Yes, I think so,’ I replied hesitantly. ‘He's just not dressed.’
‘Then he should get dressed and come down, okay?’
‘Yes, all right,‘ I said disappointedly and hung up again. I hadn't expected that reaction. The man on the other end of the line had sounded almost disinterested. I was a little angry at his indifferent attitude.
‘You're supposed to come down to the control centre,’ I said quietly to Kevin.
He still seemed completely apathetic.
‘So?’ he finally asked quietly, tugging at his sweaty T-shirt.
I hesitated for a moment. I felt helpless and alone. Why couldn't that stupid doctor come up?
‘Can you make it to the shower?’
He nodded. He slowly got up and absently stumbled into the bathroom. I was horrified by his condition and hardly recognised the cheerful boy from yesterday afternoon. He switched on the shower light, took off his T-shirt and boxer shorts and left them both lying carelessly on the floor. I didn't dare to leave him alone now. He stood next to the shower and waited until I had turned on the water and set the right temperature. Then I closed the shower curtain behind him, leaving a small gap open. Not because I was interested in his naked body. I lacked all sense for that at the moment. I was just afraid for him and didn't want to let him out of my sight for a moment. He stuck his arm through the gap and let me squirt a big dollop of shower gel onto his flat hand. Then he lathered up his hair and body with it and stood under the warm water jet until it had washed off all the soap by itself. At some point he finally turned off the water. As I was just drawing back the curtain to hand him his bath towel, he suddenly broke down crying. He slid down the wall with his back and remained sitting in the shower tray with his knees bent. He sat there sobbing loudly, wrapped his arms around his pulled up legs and put his head between his knees. I carefully wrapped him in his bath towel and then took his hand. He got up with difficulty. I held him in my arms for a moment and stroked his wet hair. He seemed to have regained some control over himself. When he looked at me, his eyes were no longer as empty as they had been a few minutes ago. He now pushed his wet curls to the side, which had been hanging in his face the whole time. So far, this didn't seem to have bothered him. He was no longer so apathetic and began to dry himself off. He wrapped the bath towel around his body and took one of the other towels to rub his hair dry. I had the impression that I could leave him alone again now.
‘Are you okay again?’ I asked him.
He looked at me and said, ’Yes, I'm fine.’
‘Do you want me to get you some fresh clothes?’
‘Don't worry about it, I'll get them myself.’
As I left the bathroom and was about to close the door, he called after me.
‘Hey, David.’
I turned around and stuck my head through the crack in the door again.
Kevin looked at me and tried to smile.
‘Thanks,’ he said quietly.
‘It's okay,’ I replied.
While he dried himself off, I finally managed to get fully dressed. When I was ready, he came out of the shower with his towel around his hips and took fresh underwear from his wardrobe. He sat down on his bed and slowly got dressed.
‘Do you always feel so bad when you've had a nightmare?‘ I asked him as he slipped into his socks.
He nodded.
‘I told you it was hell,’ he replied.
When he was finished getting dressed and blow-drying his hair, I went down to the medical centre with him. He had asked me to come with him. He still looked quite haggard and downhearted. I knocked and we entered. A counter divided the room into two parts. The space behind the counter was reserved for staff. Here, two men and a woman were busy going through patient files. There were no other patients in the room besides us.
‘Good morning,’ I said when none of the three noticed us.
One of the men looked up and came over to us.
‘Yes, please?’ He asked.
‘I called here earlier and spoke to a Dr Friedrichs. About Kevin.’
I looked at Kevin, who was standing intimidated and with his head bowed, a metre to my right, to get the man's attention.
‘Ah yes,’ the man behind the counter replied. “I'm Dr Friedrichs.’
He looked over at Kevin.
‘It took you a long time. I thought you weren't coming anymore.’
‘I had to take a shower,” Kevin replied quietly.
Dr Friedrichs came forward and asked Kevin to lie down on a couch.
‘You had a nightmare?‘ he asked. He didn't seem quite as indifferent as he had on the phone.
Kevin nodded.
‘Yes, it was pretty intense,’ he replied.
The doctor checked Kevin's pulse and blood pressure.
‘Well, you've calmed down a bit by now,’ he said after he had finished his brief examination.
‘He was pretty upset earlier, barely responsive,’ I chimed in. “Can you give him something to make him feel better?’
‘We avoid medication here as much as possible. He seems to have recovered quite well by now.’
The doctor didn't seem to take the whole thing very seriously.
‘At least give him something for the next night,” I urged him.
Dr Friedrichs turned back to Kevin.
‘All right, I'll make a note in your file. If you like, you can get something here tonight to help you sleep. Come by before you go to bed. But be sure to talk about your nightmares in group.’
‘We don't have a group today, Thursday,’ I answered instead of Kevin.
‘Yes, then tomorrow. This is really important. We can't keep giving you medication here. If you want drug therapy, you've come to the wrong place.’
I immediately wished the doctor hadn't said the last few sentences. They had only put Kevin under unnecessary pressure. When we were back in our room, I immediately noticed the effect the doctor's words had had on Kevin. He lay down on his bed and stared at the ceiling. Again I got to know a new side of him. He seemed more angry than depressed. When I asked him after a while if he wanted to come to breakfast, he barked at me aggressively.
‘Hey, go down alone and leave me alone, okay?’
So I went down without him. The girls were already discussing how they could spend the day off. Not only was there no group therapy that day, but the five of us had no other obligations either. Many individual therapies wouldn't start until next week anyway. Board games were on the programme for the morning. If we continued like this, we would have gone through the entire range of games in the clinic by the end of our stay. After lunch, the girls wanted to go into town.
Before I went with the three of them over to the cafeteria, I checked on Kevin again.
‘We're playing Risk in the cafeteria. Do you want to come down?’ I asked him.
‘No, I don't feel like it,‘ he replied curtly. It seemed that his mood had not changed.
‘You can come later,’ I tried again.
‘Yeah, all right,’ he replied, annoyed.
I gave up and went back downstairs to the girls.
After almost two hours, he finally showed up at our table. It was already just before eleven. He approached us shyly.
‘Can I still join?‘ he asked hesitantly.
‘Sure,’ Christina and Gudrun replied almost simultaneously, smiling at him.
He smiled back, looking pained. He still seemed to be in urgent need of some encouragement.
‘Come on, sit down,‘ I invited him kindly.
He took a seat on the chair next to me.
‘Sorry about earlier,’ he said quietly.
‘It's okay,’ I replied.
At least he seemed to have overcome his bad mood. I hoped that his mental state would also improve over the course of the day.
Unfortunately, my hopes were dashed. He spent the whole day with our group, but remained mostly silent and uninvolved. When we walked into town after lunch, he just trotted silently behind us. Every attempt to strike up a conversation with him failed miserably. He gave a pained smile to anyone who tried to include him, but that was about it.
After dinner, he went to his room, while the rest of our group sat down in the cafeteria again and tried out another game from the shelves behind the reception. I soon lost interest in it. Kevin was on my mind. I was afraid of the next night. He would be given a sleeping pill, but would that prevent the nightmares? And what about the night after that? How should this go on?
I said goodbye to the girls and went up to my room. Kevin was lying on his bed, dressed, staring at the ceiling. A paperback lay open next to him, the pages facing down.
‘Are you okay?’ I asked. I didn't know what else to say.
He just nodded.
‘What are you reading?’ I wanted to know. I only asked because I was hoping to finally start a conversation with him again.
He shrugged.
‘I don't know. I can't concentrate on it.’
‘Oh.’
It seemed hopeless. So I lay down on my bed as well and picked up one of the novels I had brought with me. When I got to the third page, I realised that I couldn't remember anything of what I had actually just read. So I started again from the beginning, but again what I had read got stuck in some of my brain convolutions where it didn't really belong. Exasperated, I put the book aside. I remained lying on my back and observed the structure of the whitewashed woodchip wallpaper on the ceiling for a while.
‘Shit, Kevin, say something,’ I finally blurted out. “I'm really worried about you.’
‘I'm okay,” he replied quietly. His voice sounded anything but convincing.
‘Don't you want to talk at last?’
‘To you?’
‘Yes. Or to whoever you can talk to here.’
‘And what should I tell you?’ he asked helplessly.
I thought for a moment. Actually, I didn't know what I was doing at all.
‘Well, what's going on inside you. Why you've been so down all day.’
‘That's obvious, isn't it?’
‘Because of last night. The nightmare and all that,‘ I stated.
‘Not only that.’
‘Then talk already,’ I urged him desperately.
‘Damn it, I just don't know how to go on. I'm just at the end of my tether,’ he finally said. His voice trembled.
‘I'm scared shitless of the next night. And the night after that. And the one after that.’
‘Hey, you're getting something today so you can sleep.’
‘And tomorrow? And the day after?’ he asked desperately. ’At least in the psychiatric ward they pumped me full of medication. But here it's just like at home. Why do you think I wanted to kill myself? I couldn't stand the fucking nights with all the memories and those shitty nightmares anymore.’
‘Do you want to go back to the psychiatric ward?’ I asked anxiously. I sat up and looked over at him.
He shook his head.
‘They can't stuff me full of medication forever either. But in the end it will still come down to them sending me back there.’
He seemed resigned.
‘They can't help me here anyway,’ he said.
‘Hey, just wait and see.’
He shook his head again.
‘When I first arrived here, I really thought that I would be able to get my life back on track once I got out of here. But now? You heard what the doctor said this morning. I'm in the wrong place.’
‘He didn't mean it like that,’ I objected.
He shrugged.
‘Do you know how much effort it took me to come to the group room with you on the first day?‘ he asked after a while.
‘No, why?’ I replied in puzzlement.
‘You were all sitting there so relaxed. And me? I've just come from a psychiatric ward. From the locked ward. And I've tried to kill myself. I felt like some kind of leper, like a total freak.’
I looked over at Kevin's bed. He was still lying on his back, looking at the ceiling. Now I could vividly imagine how he must have felt on the first day here. His strange behaviour became clearer to me now.
‘Hey, that's not you,’ I said.
‘But that's how I feel, man.’
He paused for a moment and shook his head in despair.
‘Man, I asked you to sleep in my bed because otherwise I can't fall asleep! And this morning you even had to help me take a shower! How am I supposed to feel normal?’
I didn't know what to say, and just shrugged my shoulders helplessly. He was still staring at the ceiling and could only see me out of the corner of his eye at best.
‘But I liked doing it,’ I said after a while. What a totally stupid answer.
‘Yeah, I'm really lucky to live in a room with a gay guy who's hot for me. Anyone else would have probably asked to be moved to another room long ago.’
If I hadn't known how desperate Kevin was at the moment, that sentence would have hurt me.
‘Hey, I did this because I like you, not because I want to sleep with you or because I'm hot for your naked body in the shower,’ I replied.
He looked guiltily over at me, then, sighing, put his hands in front of his face and shook his head.
‘Man, I'm sorry, I'm really a complete idiot,’ he said after a while. ’You're burning the nights here because of me and you're barely getting any sleep, and then I talk such bullshit.’
‘It's okay.’
‘No, it's not. You're the only one here for me. I'm really glad you're here.’
‘Hey, the girls like you too. They would definitely be there for you too. You just have to finally tell them what's going on with you.’
‘Oh come on, they must think I'm a total nutcase by now, the way I've been acting in the last few days.’
‘Just tell them about your brother's accident and how you've been since then. Then they'll surely understand you.’
‘Do you think so?’
‘Yes, sure.’
‘I just don't know if I can talk about it,‘ he said after a while.
‘Why don't you try it tomorrow at the group meeting?’ I suggested.
Kevin shrugged.
‘You can do it,’ I encouraged him. “I'll be there too. And maybe you'll feel better afterwards.’
‘Okay,” he finally said.
Chapter 5 – Changes
The night went without a hitch this time. The sleeping pill that Kevin had picked up at the centre before going to bed may not have been entirely innocent. I was finally able to make up for the sleep deficit of the last two nights. If Kevin had nightmares during the night, I didn't notice any of them. I slept soundly the whole time and Kevin couldn't remember any bad dreams in the morning.
Until therapy group in the afternoon, the day seemed to drag on endlessly. I took every opportunity to encourage Kevin to open up in the group today. But when the time finally came, everything turned out quite differently. To make a long story short, the group session was incredibly tough. This was not least due to our psychologist, who could only with difficulty hide her bad mood from the group. After she had made some comments about the previous session that none of us could really relate to, the mood in the room seemed somehow tense. None of us really knew what was going to happen, and we looked at each other shrugging our shoulders more than once. Ms Fröschl's recurring question of who would like to say something led only to more or less inconsequential comments from the group. It was only too understandable that Kevin was unable to open up in this atmosphere.
At some point, the hour and a half was finally over.
‘That was pretty tough today,’ Frau Fröschl said at the end. ’Hopefully it will be better next week when there are six of you. Your missing group member will arrive at the weekend after all. Maybe you can pick him up from the train station on Sunday so you can get to know him a little better right away. Otherwise it will be just as slow here on Monday as it was today.’
She told us to let the reception know if we wanted a lift to the station in the VW bus. When she had left, we stayed in the room for a while. Kevin hung his head and was annoyed with himself.
‘Hey, then on Monday,’ I tried to cheer him up.
‘Great, if there's a new guy there that I don't know as well as you guys, it's guaranteed to be a bust again,‘ he replied dejectedly.
‘What's going on?’ asked Gudrun, who had heard us.
‘Oh, Kevin actually wanted to talk today,’ I replied.
Gudrun looked sympathetically at Kevin.
‘And then, of all times, Fröschl has to come here and spread such a bad mood,‘ she said sympathetically.
Nadine and Christina had joined us by now.
‘Somehow I don't like Fröschl,’ Nadine said.
‘Not only you,’ I replied. ’I have the feeling that we all feel that way.’
I received nods of agreement.
‘Do you think you can talk if it's just the five of us together?‘ Gudrun asked Kevin after a while.
He shrugged his shoulders.
Without further ado, Gudrun took the initiative.
‘Are you all coming with me?’ she asked us.
Without knowing exactly what she had in mind, we followed her out to the lift. We went to the top floor. There was only one large room with several seating areas and a large glass front that offered a view of the flat roof of the clinic building. A door led out onto a roof terrace. In winter, hardly anyone came here. Only occasionally did a few smokers come up to satisfy their addiction on the terrace. Since it was cold and uncomfortable outside, they also preferred the two lounges where smoking was allowed today. Apart from us, the room and the terrace were therefore completely deserted.
We sat down at one of the tables. Kevin took a seat between Gudrun and me on a reasonably comfortable sofa, while Nadine and Christina settled down on two armchairs.
‘Make yourself comfortable first,’ Gudrun said. “Take your time, Kevin, you don't have to start talking right away. And if it doesn't work, it's okay, okay?’
Kevin nodded gratefully.
‘And tell us if there's anything we can do to help, okay?” Gudrun continued.
‘I'll be fine. I just don't know where to start,‘ Kevin replied.
‘Do you want me to take your hand?’ Gudrun asked him.
He nodded and stretched out his right hand towards her. She clasped it with both of her hands and Kevin smiled gratefully at her. When I put my hand on his shoulder as well, he seemed to be ready to start.
‘My brother died recently. His name was Marco and he was 16, almost two years younger than me,’ he began hesitantly with his account. He talked in detail about the bike ride. The two brothers had been very close and often did things together. After the accident happened, Kevin had immediately administered first aid. Just a few weeks earlier, he had completed a course for his driving licence. Marco had only been conscious for a short time. Kevin reported how he had then desperately waited for a car on the road with little traffic and how he had finally stood in the middle of the road to force a driver to stop. The driver had immediately called the emergency doctor with his mobile phone, but then stood around rather uninvolved while Kevin continued to take care of his brother. The time until the ambulance arrived must have seemed like an eternity to Kevin. When the paramedics finally arrived, Kevin initially felt an immense sense of relief. He then travelled in the ambulance and at some point on the way to the hospital, the emergency doctor informed him that his brother had succumbed to his serious injuries. At that moment, Kevin's world must have completely collapsed, because from that point on, he could hardly remember anything clearly. He only had a hazy memory of his parents' arrival at the clinic.
When Kevin had finished this part of his report, tears ran down his face. I stroked his shoulder and Gudrun gently stroked the back of his hand. The other two looked at him sympathetically. Christina also had tears in her eyes.
It took Kevin a while to compose himself again and continue his story.
He hardly said anything about the time immediately after Marco's death. I had the feeling that he could hardly describe the state he was in after his brother's death with words anyway. Instead, he talked a little about his suicide attempt and the time in the psychiatric ward. When he was finished, he sat with his head hanging.
‘Hey, you did it,‘ I whispered to him and gently brushed the hair out of his face.
He looked at me and managed a pained smile.
‘Do you feel better now?’ I asked cautiously.
He shrugged.
‘Kind of. Well, I don't know yet.’
I patted him on the shoulder.
‘Come on, get up,’ I said quietly. ’There are a few people who want to give you a hug for now.’
We all stood up and hugged Kevin in turn. That seemed to do him a lot of good. He was really touched and didn't know what to say. After that, we sat together for quite a while and felt like a real group for the first time, with everyone there for each other.
We also spent the whole evening together. Although we spent that evening playing board games again, this time the feeling I had was completely different. For the first time, I had the impression of sitting at the table with real friends.
When I went back to our room with Kevin, it was already past midnight. I was a little worried about how Kevin would survive the night without a sleeping pill. The day had been quite upsetting for him, though it had a happy ending.
‘Are you afraid of the night?’ I asked him as we sat on our beds.
He just shrugged.
‘Hey, I'm here if you need help, okay?’ I said. “You can wake me up if you want.’
‘Okay,” he replied. Nevertheless, he seemed a little down again.
So while he was in the bathroom, I made a decision. At first I had planned to push our beds together, but I found that they were bolted to the wall. So I cleared the table and chairs to the side. The free floor space was large enough for our two mattresses. When Kevin came out of the bathroom, the two mattresses were lying next to each other on the floor. He stopped in amazement.
‘What do you think?‘ I asked him.
He couldn't help grinning.
‘Come on,’ I urged him. I wasn't sure if I had done the right thing.
‘If you have to get the doctor for me again tonight, we'll have a problem,’ he replied after a while.
His sense of humour had returned, if only for a brief moment.
‘If you don't like it or it makes you feel uncomfortable in any way, we won't do it,‘ I said.
‘No, it's fine,’ he replied.
After I had also been to the bathroom, we lay down on the two mattresses, close to each other, but of course each under his own blanket. It wasn't long before we were both asleep.
Sometime during the night I woke up. My alarm clock was still lying next to my bed. From where I was lying on the mattress on the floor, I couldn't see it. Kevin was sleeping restlessly. I heard him quietly call for his brother in his sleep. He seemed to be having a nightmare again. Should I wake him up? Or just let him sleep and hope that he wouldn't remember anything when he woke up? I decided on the second alternative. Anxiously, I stayed in bed and watched Kevin's movements under the duvet. After a while, he seemed to calm down a bit. Just when I thought he would soon be sleeping peacefully again, he opened his eyes with a loud sigh.
‘Are you okay?’ I whispered to him.
He turned to me and looked at me in the darkness.
‘I'm fine,’ he said quietly.
‘Really?’
‘Yes, it wasn't so bad this time.’
‘You were calling for your brother in your sleep.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, a few times. I thought you were going to wake up. But then you calmed down a bit.’
‘I can hardly remember the dream.’
‘Be glad!’
‘I am.’
‘Do you think you can go back to sleep?’
Kevin shrugged.
‘What time is it?’ he wanted to know.
‘I don't know, I can't see the alarm clock.’
‘It doesn't matter.’
‘Try to go back to sleep, okay?’
I saw him nod in the dark. He turned on his side and turned his back to me. I was about to close my eyes again to try to get some sleep too when he slid his back closer to me. He came to the edge of his mattress. Without saying a word, I moved over to him and put an arm around his body. I felt him snuggle up close to me. Eventually, we both fell asleep again.
When we woke up in the morning, it was already just after nine o'clock. Kevin didn't seem to have had any more nightmares.
‘It's time we put the mattresses back in the beds,’ was one of the first things he said. Was he a little embarrassed about the whole thing by now?
Normally, the cleaning staff came to the rooms sometime after nine. You could hang the ‘Do not disturb’ sign on the outside of the door handle, but we had forgotten to do so. So, before we even got dressed, we tidied up the room and put the table and chairs back in their usual places.
Chapter 6 – Thomas
The weekend was uneventful until Sunday afternoon. Meanwhile, Kevin seemed to be doing better and better. I had the impression that he now felt really comfortable in the group. At least he no longer made any effort to withdraw. The girls had taken him into their hearts anyway since our private therapy session on Friday. He could hardly escape consoling hugs and various other displays of affection if he looked downhearted for even a moment.
On Sundays, after lunch, we all went to the reception desk together. There, they informed Mr Schwarz, the caretaker, that we wanted to go to the train station to pick up our new group member. The train would arrive shortly after one o'clock. We waited on one of the seating areas until the caretaker finally showed up.
‘Do you all want to come?’ he asked in astonishment when he saw us.
‘Well, I can't possibly take more than two or three of you with me. I haven't installed the back bench yet.’
The decision as to which of us should come with him was not difficult. Since the new group member was male, Kevin and I would form the first welcoming committee.
‘Well, come with me then, you two,’ said the caretaker. He was the first clinic employee to simply use the informal “du” form of address. I wished the rest of the staff were as relaxed and not so professionally aloof. We squeezed into the wide passenger seat next to Mr Schwarz in the VW bus and drove off.
‘Normally, our patients don't arrive almost a week late,‘ he said after turning from the car park onto the main road.
‘We don't know why he's only coming today either. Do you know what happened?’ I wanted to know.
‘No idea, they don't tell me things like that. All I know is that I'm supposed to pick someone up from the station at 1:07 p.m.’
The rest of the way, the caretaker entertained us with not-quite-house-trained jokes. He seemed like a really nice guy. Well, maybe I would have to change my mind if he ever started making jokes about gays. Fortunately, he spared us that. I estimated him to be in his early 50s. When I addressed him again formally, he said, ‘You can call me “Du”. I'm not particular about that. My name is Ludwig.’
After about 20 minutes we had reached the city and the train station.
‘Do you know which platform the train arrives on?’ I asked the caretaker before we got off.
‘No, you'll have to check for yourselves. But there are only three platforms anyway. And on a Sunday like today, there's hardly anything going on. You can't really miss it. Just go in. I'll wait here.’
Kevin and I got out and entered the station building. It was indeed just a typical small-town train station. The saleswoman in the small newspaper kiosk sat bored at the checkout. Only a few guests had found their way into the small station bar. However, these seemed to be more regulars than travellers. The station as a whole gave a somewhat rundown impression. Obviously, the Deutsche Bahn AG station modernisation programme had not yet reached this far. We stepped out onto the platform through a creaking swinging door. There was not a soul in sight far and wide. You almost got the impression that a train only arrived here every few weeks. There was a timetable on a board. The train would arrive here on platform 1 in about ten minutes. At least if it was on time.
‘I'm curious to see what kind of guy he is, the new one,’ Kevin said.
‘We'll see soon enough.’
‘I'd really like to know why he's only coming today.’
I shrugged.
‘Maybe he'll tell us.’
We paced up and down the platform for a while. It was quite windy in the open. At least it wasn't as cold as it had been a few days ago. A hood would have been nice now, not just because of the cold. I hadn't worn one of my hooded sweatshirts since Wednesday. Somehow I had never been in the right mood to do so and today I just hadn't thought of it. At some point we actually heard a train coming. Half a minute later, an ancient diesel locomotive pulled a four-car local train into the station. The brakes squealed and the first car came to a halt right in front of our noses. A few doors opened. It was hard to believe, but several people actually got off in this wasteland. Right in front of us, a couple with two small children got off the train, and a little further back, an elderly gentleman with a cane struggled out of one of the other doors.
‘Do you see a boy our age anywhere?’ I asked Kevin.
‘No, maybe this is the wrong train.’
‘There won't be another one for an hour.’
Kevin craned his neck and looked past the people getting off to the end of the train.
‘Hey, look over there. That one could be it,’ he suddenly shouted.
I turned around and saw a boy who was just lifting a travel bag and two bags out of the rearmost door of the last carriage and putting them down on the platform.
‘Yes, that must be him,‘ I said.
We started to move and ran towards the boy. He had put his luggage down next to him and was lighting a cigarette.
‘A smoker, too, what a shame,’ I murmured, somewhat disillusioned. Fortunately, our group had so far only consisted of non-smokers.
‘I bet he's gay,‘ Kevin suddenly said.
‘Hey, how would you know?’ I asked back, somewhat annoyed.
‘Just a feeling.’
The newcomer looked at us as we approached him. He was about 1.75 m tall and had short, light blonde hair. He had a piercing in one eyebrow and was also wearing earrings. He seemed to be our age, maybe a little younger. His face looked quite feminine. Somehow he looked a bit like some people imagine a gay man to look like. But he wasn't necessarily my type.
‘Hey, are you here for me?‘ he wanted to know.
‘If you want to go to the clinic in Bad Neuheim, then yes,’ Kevin replied.
‘Yes, that's where I'm supposed to go.’
He took his cigarette in his left hand and then held out his right to us one after the other.
‘Hi, I'm Thomas,’ he said with a friendly smile. ’Thomas Hübner.’
We shook his hand and told him our names as well.
‘Well, come with me,‘ I finally invited him.
‘Hey, take it easy,’ he replied. ‘Let me finish smoking first.’
I took a look at his luggage. The duffel bag wasn't particularly big and the two plastic bags weren't exactly full either.
‘Is that all your luggage?‘ I wanted to know.
He shrugged.
‘Yes, why?’
We smiled at him involuntarily. That seemed to embarrass him a little.
‘Well, I don't have much more clothes,’ he said a little shyly.
‘Hey, it doesn't matter. There are washing machines in the clinic,’ I replied.
Apparently he didn't come from as wealthy a background as Kevin and I. It wasn't a problem though. After all, neither of us could help having such rich parents either. I hoped that he didn't think I was arrogant because of my careless question.
Even though he didn't have much clothing in his luggage, he at least seemed to have good taste in fashion, although it didn't completely match my own. He was wearing light grey cargo pants, a dark V-neck sweater and a fashionable winter jacket, the latter, to my disappointment, without a hood. Well, he wasn't my type anyway.
When he had stubbed out his cigarette, he reached for his bags and we walked along the platform towards the station building. I offered to take some of the luggage from him, and he handed me the two bags.
‘Why are you only coming today?’ Kevin asked curiously.
‘Oh, it's a long story, I'll tell you later, okay?’
‘Yeah, sure. Get to know the rest of our group first,‘ I replied.
‘What group?’ he asked in puzzlement and stopped.
‘We're in a group with you, and there are three girls in our group too. We have a therapy session together four times a week and often hang out together,’ Kevin explained.
‘Ah so, I have no idea how this works here.’
‘Well, you'll see. It's not that bad,’ I said. “Now come on. Ludwig is waiting.’
‘Who is Ludwig?’
‘The caretaker,” Kevin replied.
We had now reached the exit of the station building and I pointed outside through the glazed swinging door.
‘He's in the VW bus,’ I said.
Ludwig had already spotted us and was getting out of the car. He opened the sliding side door. Without wasting any time on empty greetings, he told Thomas to put his bag behind the bench seat. I put the plastic bags next to it and then got on the bus behind Thomas. I sat down next to him on the back seat, while Kevin got back in on the passenger side.
‘Is it far to the clinic?‘ Thomas wanted to know.
‘About 15 kilometres, we'll be there in 20 minutes,’ Ludwig replied from the front.
During the journey, we prepared Thomas a little for what awaited him from now on. He didn't seem to have informed himself much about the clinic and what went on there. When he finally stood in front of the entrance door with us, holding his bag, he looked a little helpless.
‘What happens now?’ He asked uncertainly.
‘First to reception,’ I replied.
While the caretaker set the VW bus in motion again behind us and steered it to its usual parking space, Thomas, Kevin and I hesitantly entered the entrance hall. We saved ourselves the trouble of having to get one of the luggage trolleys for his meagre belongings. At the reception, Thomas was immediately greeted warmly by a clinic employee. I looked around for the girls and spotted them around the corner in the cafeteria. After I waved at them, they came over curiously. Thomas had meanwhile received his room key. Since he had not arrived on the normal day of arrival, he was spared the rest of the welcome programme.
The girls examined him curiously and shook his hand one after the other. At the station and on the way here, Thomas had made a very self-confident impression, but now the unfamiliar situation seemed to intimidate him quite a bit. Uncertainly, he introduced himself to the girls. He seemed really frightened by Nadine's appearance. It was all too clear to see that this was not his world. Well, it hadn't been any different for me at the beginning either.
‘Let's take your bags upstairs first,‘ I said to Thomas after he had shaken hands with the girls.
‘Okay,’ he replied gratefully.
‘We'll be in the cafeteria if Thomas wants some company,’ Gudrun told us, and then she went back to the table with Christina and Nadine, where various cups and glasses were still waiting for the three of them.
Thomas entered the lift with Kevin and me, and we went up to the second floor.
‘Man, what's up with that one? What was her name again? Nadine?‘ Thomas wanted to know after the lift doors had closed and we were alone. Nadine's appearance seemed to have shocked him.
‘Never seen an anorexic before?’ Kevin asked in return.
Thomas shook his head.
The lift doors opened again and we stepped out into the corridor. I pointed to the door on the opposite wall.
‘This is where our group therapy always takes place. It starts for you tomorrow at 3 p.m.’
Thomas nodded thoughtfully. He now seemed to have completely lost track.
‘Man, show me my room first. It's all getting too much for me here.’
We walked down the corridor. Thomas‘ room was diagonally opposite our own. It was the last one in the corridor. He unlocked the door and entered. The single rooms, all on the right side of the corridor, were not quite as spacious as the double rooms. They also lacked a balcony.
‘I need a cigarette first,’ Thomas groaned after putting down his bag.
‘Smoking is not allowed in the room. And unfortunately you don't have a balcony,‘ I replied.
‘So where can you smoke here?’
‘Hmm, I think there are smoking rooms on the ground floor and in the basement.’
‘Or up on the roof, outside, on the terrace,’ Kevin added.
‘Great,’ Thomas groaned, annoyed.
‘Come on, we'll go upstairs, at least it's quiet there,‘ I suggested.
Thomas just left his luggage in the middle of the room and locked his room again. Then we walked back to the lift.
‘Normally half a pack a day is enough for me, but today I think I've already smoked a whole packet,’ Thomas told us on the way.
‘Shall I get the girls? Then we can make ourselves comfortable upstairs later,‘ I asked him.
He seemed a little embarrassed.
‘Well, uh, if you don't mind... uh, well, I'd be quite happy to stay among ourselves for now, the three of us, I mean,’ he stammered.
I shrugged my shoulders.
‘As you like,‘ I replied.
‘Somehow it's all getting to be too much for me at once,’ he said apologetically.
‘It's okay,’ Kevin appeased him.
Since the lift was not there at the moment, we walked up the two flights of stairs. Once again, we were the only ones who had come up here. The three of us stood at the front of the roof terrace. From here, there was a fantastic view over the clinic car park and the adjacent area. Well, to be honest, there really wasn't anything particularly interesting to see. Thomas lit a cigarette.
‘Do you want one, too?‘ he asked us.
We both shook our heads.
‘Non-smokers,’ I replied curtly.
‘Maybe I should finally quit, too,’ Thomas said thoughtfully. ’These things cost a pretty penny.’
‘Yes, and then we wouldn't have to be out here in the cold either,‘ I replied.
‘Oh, I'm really sorry,’ Thomas said, almost feeling a little guilty. ‘You can wait for me inside if you're cold.’
‘Hey, I was just joking,’ I assured him with a grin.
He grinned back, relieved. We waited in silence until he had finished smoking. Then we went back inside.
‘So, what now?‘ he asked.
I shrugged my shoulders.
‘If you want, we can sit here for a while,’ I suggested, pointing to the abandoned seating areas in front of the wide glass front.
He seemed to agree. We took off our jackets and threw them over each other on a chair. Then we sat down at one of the tables. I took a seat on the couch opposite Thomas and took a closer look at him now that he was no longer wearing a jacket. He was quite slender, but not unusually thin either. As my gaze fell on his left wrist, I saw a bandage peeking out from under the sleeve of his sweater. He must have noticed from my expression that I had noticed it, because he reflexively pulled his arm back a bit. I looked at him in shock. He shrugged sadly.
‘Cut the wrist,’ he said quietly.
He raised his left arm a little, supporting his elbow on the armrest of his chair, and pushed back the sleeve of his sweater with his right hand until the bandage around his wrist was fully visible. He turned his hand a few times to the left and right. Apparently, he wanted us to be able to see the bandage from all sides.
‘Well, I just tried. I didn't quite succeed,‘ he added with a sigh.
I didn't know what to say and was grateful that Kevin was responsive.
‘I tried pills, but that didn't work either.’
Thomas looked at him in amazement.
‘Really?’ he asked.
Kevin nodded.
‘And did you really want to die?‘ Thomas cautiously followed up.
‘I think so,’ Kevin replied quietly. ‘And you?’
Thomas just shrugged.
‘Actually, I'm quite glad that I didn't make it after all,’ he said after a while.
‘Meanwhile, I am too,’ Kevin said.
Somehow, Kevin's last sentence had a strange effect on me. I felt my lacrimal glands wanting to produce a few drops of liquid. Subconsciously, I had probably worried the whole time whether Kevin still had suicidal thoughts. His comment just now had sounded so incredibly honest, almost solemn, to me that a huge weight fell from my heart. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't hold back the tears. The fear I had felt for Kevin in the last few days was apparently much greater than I had realised. Before I could wipe away my tears, Kevin and Thomas had noticed my emotional outburst.
‘Hey, David, are you all right?‘ Kevin asked, somewhat alarmed.
‘Yes, sure, what's wrong?’ I replied unconvincingly and wiped away the tears with the sleeve of my sweater.
‘Well, it looks like you're crying,’ Kevin replied with a sympathetic smile.
Thomas just sat there, shocked, and had not the slightest idea what was suddenly wrong with me. Kevin came over to me on the sofa, sat down next to me and gently put his arms around me. I laid my head on his shoulder and sobbed. Now, for a change, it was Kevin who stroked me and tried to calm me down. When I had more or less regained control of myself, he wanted to know what had suddenly happened to me. I didn't really know what to answer, but then decided on the truth.
‘I don't know. When you said to Thomas that you were also glad that you were still alive, I just started crying.’
‘Man, you were really worried about me, weren't you?‘ Kevin asked in amazement.
‘I was scared shitless for you,’ I said loudly, looking him in the eye.
He held me again.
‘Hey, you don't need to worry anymore,’ he whispered in my ear.
I don't remember how long Kevin held me in his arms. It was probably only a few seconds. It felt like an eternity. I savoured every single moment. Was I falling in love with him? Even though I knew he wasn't gay? Yes, I loved him. One hundred percent. But somehow more like a brother. As an only child, I had always missed having a sibling. In Kevin, I seemed to have found something of a brother. Nothing more, but nothing less either.
When I finally looked over at Thomas, he looked at us quite taken aback.
‘Are you two a couple?‘ he asked cautiously.
‘Nope, don't worry,’ Kevin replied quickly. ‘David is not taken yet.’
His sense of humour and quick wit surprised me once again. This time, however, I didn't find Kevin's comment particularly funny. After all, he had basically outed me to Thomas. Thomas seemed to have understood Kevin's comment right away.
‘You're gay?‘ he asked me.
‘Yes, and?’ I replied.
‘Wow, I'm really relieved,‘ Thomas replied. “I've been wondering how to tell you guys that I'm gay.’
‘Well, I knew it,” Kevin said, grinning at me.
‘What?’ Thomas asked in puzzlement.
‘Well, when you got off the train, Kevin immediately suspected that you were gay,‘ I explained.
Thomas looked at us, disturbed. His expression suggested that we must have hurt him somehow.
‘Yes, that's why my father hates me so much, because you can tell just by looking at me,’ he said quietly after a while, his head bowed.
‘Hey, I'm sorry, we didn't mean to hurt you,‘ I apologised, shocked.
‘It's not your fault. I actually kind of like the fact that some people immediately think I'm gay. It's just my father...’
He broke off.
‘Is your father to blame for you trying to kill yourself?’ Kevin asked hesitantly.
‘Well, he's definitely not innocent in all of this,‘ Thomas replied. There was almost a hint of hatred in his voice.
‘Do you want to talk about it?’ I asked him.
He nodded.
‘Then come over to the sofa with us, okay?’
Thomas got up, came over and sat down between us. Then he began to tell his story.
He was 17 years old and came from a small village of 2000 people. He went to secondary school in the city 20 kilometres away, when he wasn't skipping school and just hanging around in the city. He didn't seem to get along particularly well with his classmates, which was not least due to his feminine appearance. He was currently repeating the ninth grade and seemed to have been left back earlier as well. He often took the last bus home in the evening. This was because he wanted to avoid his father as much as possible. Gunther Hübner was a master butcher. In contrast to Thomas, he was a rough, muscular guy. Until a few years ago, he had run his own small butcher's shop in Thomas‘ hometown, a long-established family business that Thomas’ great-grandparents had built up. When a supermarket chain opened a branch in the town, business had gone from bad to worse. Eventually, his father had to close the shop. Since then, he had been working a few towns away in a meat-cutting plant. The decline in his career probably took its toll on him. He took his frustrations out on his family more and more often, and not just verbally on Thomas. When he came home drunk from the pub, he sometimes beat him black and blue. Only Thomas' little sister was their father's favourite. She was four years younger than Thomas, and although her father favoured her, Thomas adored her. Thomas' mother was a petite woman who didn't know how to defend herself against her husband and therefore couldn't protect Thomas. As long as Thomas could remember, his father had always found something to criticise in him. Words like “loser” and “weakling” were the most harmless things Thomas ever heard him say.
Thomas had known for several years that he was gay. Three months ago, he had finally met a boy in town and the two had fallen in love. Stefan, that was his friend's name, was half a year older, trained as a nurse and lived in the staff dormitory of the hospital. Since he often had time off during the day due to shift work, the two could meet frequently. At some point, one of Thomas‘ father's regulars must have seen the two of them strolling through town arm in arm. In the presence of Gunther Hübner, he then trumpeted his observations in front of everyone at the regulars’ table, not sparing derogatory comments. When Thomas's father came home that evening, Thomas had received the worst beating of his life so far. He had denied everything and repeatedly insisted that his father's drinking companion must have been mistaken, but of course he hadn't been able to convince his father of this. The next day, Thomas ran away from home. Instead of going to school, he fled to Stefan's and stayed there overnight. This went well for three days, then his father tracked him down. Thomas still doesn't know how his father managed to do that. At some point, his father had been standing downstairs in front of the nurses' residence, waiting for the young lovers to arrive. Thomas still remembers the scene that followed with horror. First, his father had attacked Stefan, calling him the most terrible names and threatening to kill him if he dared to approach his son again. Intimidated and with tears in his eyes, Stefan had fled back into the house at some point, looking at Thomas helplessly and desperately. Then the butcher had driven his son to his car with kicks and punches and brutally pushed him onto the back seat. The next few hours had been one long hell for Thomas. After his father had beaten him black and blue, he locked him in his room. Thomas could hardly move because of the pain and dragged himself with his last ounce of strength to his bed. Hours later, in the middle of the night, in his desperation, he tried to cut his left wrist with his pocket knife. It was probably a half-hearted attempt. When his father finally fell asleep drunk, his mother checked on Thomas, saw the pool of blood and, despite her panic, quietly called the emergency doctor without waking her husband. He finally ended up in the hospital. In addition to the cut on his wrist, he had a broken rib and countless bruises and black and blues.
‘Oh man, you've been through quite a lot,‘ I said sympathetically when Thomas had finished his report. He looked at me with sad eyes and shrugged his shoulders almost indifferently, as if he had just told not about himself, but about someone else.
‘Do you know what's worst?’ he asked after a while.
Kevin and I looked at him, shrugging.
‘That Stefan doesn't want anything to do with me now.’
So far, he had told his story calmly and composedly, but at this sentence, tears welled up in his eyes.
‘I was in the hospital where he works for almost a week. He never came to my room once.’
Now thick drops were flowing down his cheeks.
‘Did he know you were there?‘ I wanted to know.
He shrugged his shoulders.
‘No idea,’ he said softly.
‘Well, the way your father intimidated him, he was just scared,’ Kevin said. ’He could have run into your father.’
‘Didn't you try to contact him yourself?‘ I asked.
Thomas just shook his head.
‘You haven't seen him since the day your father ambushed you?’
More shaking of the head.
‘Not even on the phone?’
‘No,’ Thomas replied quietly.
‘Hey, how do you know that he doesn't want anything more from you?’
This time Thomas reacted with a helpless shrug.
‘What actually happened afterwards?’ Kevin wanted to know. ’After you were released from the hospital. Or did you come straight from there?’
Thomas shook his head.
‘No, I was with my grandmother,’ he replied. “At least my father has respect for his mother. He has no say with her.’
There was something of scorn in his voice.
‘She gave him a good telling off when he ruined the butcher's shop,” he continued, grinning maliciously. ’You should have seen him then, so small in his hat.’
He made a corresponding hand gesture with his thumb and index finger.
‘Well, my mother and I had to pay for it again,’ he added sadly. “But it was worth it.’
‘Couldn't your grandmother have helped you sooner?” I asked Thomas.
‘Oh, her...‘ he replied in a somewhat disparaging tone. “She never really took care of us, she just always complained about everything. But all the bruises on my body seemed to have shocked her quite a bit. My mother then said to her: ”Take Thomas to you, Gunther respects you. If Thomas is with you, he won't hurt him.’ Somehow that seemed to have worked.’
‘And how did you get here to the clinic?’ I still wanted to know.
‘Oh, they organised it in the hospital while I was still there. Somehow there's a waiting period before you can finally come here. That's why I had to go to my grandmother's for another two weeks. If it hadn't been for the waiting period, I would have come here straight from the hospital.’
‘Yeah, I had to wait too,‘ I replied.
‘Then why weren't you here on Tuesday?’ Kevin asked.
‘My father is to blame for that again,’ Thomas replied. ’I'm still on his health insurance. He must have terrorised the health insurance company so that they wouldn't pay for it here. At some point they called my grandmother and said that they wouldn't cover the costs. Then we told the doctor at the hospital and he somehow managed to sort it out. Don't ask me what exactly happened. I just know that someone called on Thursday and told my grandma that I could come after all.’
So now we knew the reason for Thomas's delay. And we had learned a lot about him in other ways, too.
Chapter 7 – Even more confessions
After Thomas had told us his story, it was now Kevin and my turn to tell him something about us. We did that outside on the terrace. Thomas urgently needed his next cigarette. We stood in front of the railing, one next to the other, and Thomas listened attentively to Kevin's story.
‘Oh man, I'm really sorry. I feel better about my father beating me up,’ he said sympathetically when Kevin had finished his short report. Then he looked at me.
‘And what about you?’
I shrugged and bowed my head.
‘Well, I have an anxiety disorder. Test anxiety and stuff,‘ I replied. I still had problems just saying these words.
‘But somehow I'm starting to wonder if it's all that important. When I hear what you guys have been through...’ I added quietly.
‘Hey, and I'm starting to get the feeling that you just need a real boyfriend,‘ Kevin suddenly said to me.
I looked at him in amazement and shock. My jaw dropped.
‘What makes you think that?’ I stammered.
‘Just a feeling.’
Ah yes, I had heard that sentence from him before today. Well, at least he was right about that.
‘You should get business cards printed: ‘Kevin Winter, amateur psychologist’,‘ I spat angrily.
‘Oh come on, David. I've already revealed my entire emotional life to you here, now it's your turn,’ Kevin replied.
‘Somehow it's not as easy for me as you think. I don't think anyone understands,’ I replied quietly. I leaned on the terrace railing with my elbows and stared straight down at the car park. I wondered how long it would take for the spit to reach the ground if you spat down here.
Kevin patted me on the back.
‘Come on, just tell me,‘ he said.
‘Man, you and the psychologist were the first people I told that I was gay. Do you know how hard that was for me? Not necessarily with the psychologist, who reacts professionally to such things, but with you.’
‘So what? I reacted pretty cool too, didn't I?’ Kevin replied with a grin.
I smiled at him painfully.
‘Yes, it was really funny,‘ I said angrily.
‘Okay, I promise I won't put on a show this time, no matter what you have to tell.’
‘All right,’ I said softly. Then I looked over at Thomas.
‘Would you rather be left alone?’ He asked.
I shook my head.
‘No, stay here, maybe then at least one of you will understand me.’
‘Don't keep us in suspense,‘ Kevin said.
I took a deep breath.
‘Okay, there's something I've never told anyone,’ I started.
The two looked at me expectantly. I had no idea how to start. After a while, I took a deep breath.
‘I'm really into hoodies,’ I just said. I wasn't sure if I had just thought the words or actually said them. Furtively, I first looked to the right at Kevin, then to the left at Thomas, waiting for some kind of reaction. I had completely lost track of time. How many hours had passed since I said that sentence?
‘Yeah, and is that all?‘ I heard from the right at some point.
I turned around and looked Kevin in the face.
‘Hey, did you not understand me right?’ I asked him. ‘I think clothes with a hood are cool! Not just cool, but really cool!’
Kevin shrugged.
‘Well, so what? What's so bad about it?’
‘Hey, that's not normal, is it?’ I said. ’I almost died of horniness when you had that hood on Wednesday.’
I pointed to the hood of Kevin's snowboard jacket. My pulse was racing.
‘Come on, calm down first,‘ Kevin said calmly and put his arm around my shoulder.
‘Do you want a cigarette after all?’ Thomas asked from the other side and held out his pack of Marlboros.
I shook my head without realising that he was just joking, of course.
‘Oh well,’ he said, taking another cigarette out of the pack instead.
We stood in silence for a while, with our backs to the railing. While Thomas inhaled nicotine-filled smoke with relish, I listened to the wild pounding of my heart. At some point, it was Thomas who turned to me.
‘Hey, David, there are others who like leather. Or dirty trainers. Or sweaty tennis socks. Or nappies,‘ he tried to reassure me.
‘You obviously know about that.’
‘Hey, everyone knows that.’
‘So what? It still makes me feel abnormal.’
‘What is normal?’ Thomas replied.
That seemed to settle the matter for him. There was a silence for a while.
‘David?’ Kevin asked cautiously at some point.
‘Yeah?’
‘Do you have any idea where it comes from?’
‘What?’
‘Well, the hoods.’
I shrugged.
‘No idea. Somehow it's been like that for as long as I can remember. Even as a small child, I always found it totally unpleasant when it rained and I had to put on a hood. But somehow I always found it pretty exciting, though. Oh, shit, I don't know how to explain it to you.’
Man, what a mess of nonsense I was talking.
‘Guys, can we change the subject again?‘ I begged.
‘Hey, you don't have to be so embarrassed about that,’ Kevin replied.
‘But I am.’
‘Come on, man, lighten up,’ Kevin urged me. ’You'd think you'd confessed something to us.’
Thomas had already lit his third cigarette. He must have thought he had landed right in the insane asylum. But actually he seemed quite calm and relaxed. Was I really the only one who found my weird tendency so strange? Or did the two of them just not take me seriously? I wish I had kept my secret to myself!
‘If you really like hoods so much, why doesn't your down jacket have one?‘ Kevin wanted to know. Couldn't he just leave the subject alone?
‘It does,’ I answered reluctantly. I turned my back to him and folded up the collar a little so that he could see the Velcro fastener behind my neck.
‘Ah, in there,’ I heard Kevin's voice from behind. “So you like emergency hoods too.’
So he called these things emergency hoods. Oh man, the situation was slowly getting completely out of control.
‘Yes, especially those,” I replied quietly.
‘That's gross!’
‘Man, that's what I've been saying the whole time.’
At that moment, I heard the typical sound that occurs when opening a Velcro fastener.
‘Hey Kevin, cut the crap,’ I shouted in shock, but it was already too late. Kevin was already taking the thin hood out of the collar.
‘Oh come on David, there's nothing wrong with it.’
With an annoyed expression on my face, I glanced over my shoulder at Kevin. Of course, I could have just turned around and given Kevin a harmless push in the ribs, and the game would have been over. So I just let him do it. Memories of a scene from my childhood flashed through my mind. Wasn't there something in first or second grade on a school trip?
Kevin pulled the thin hood over my head from behind and, to make matters worse, pulled the cord so tight that the hood almost covered my eyes. Somehow I found the situation quite embarrassing. On the other hand, I had to admit that I liked the game too. I guessed that Kevin knew that too. When he was done, he patted me on the shoulder. With the hood on my head, I turned to him.
‘What was that for?‘ I asked him.
He shrugged.
‘I thought you might like it,’ he said with a slight grin.
Well, he wasn't entirely wrong.
Thomas was just putting out his cigarette. He didn't seem particularly impressed by the whole thing.
‘Well, I think we can go back inside now,’ he said.
A little relieved, I pushed the hood off my head as we walked back through the door into the clinic. The subject was closed for now and we went down to the girls, who were still waiting for us in the cafeteria.