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The clamor from outside echoed like a blunt force to his head. Beyond the window, the morning bustle surged; the city was already stirring. However, within the confines of his hotel room, the aftermath of a night of excess still lingered heavily. An ashtray sat on the bedside table, holding a half-smoked cigarette, filling the air with a suffocating stench. His body longed for fresh air, yet he found himself unable to muster the strength to open the window.The parched sensation in his mouth finally roused him; his entire body clamored for movement. The only liquid within reach was a near-empty bottle of Absolut, definitely not what he needed right now. Still half-clad, he realized he had slumbered in an awkward position, evident from the stiffness in his neck and the numbness in his left arm, which had completely succumbed to bearing his weight for hours. Urgency propelled him to relieve himself, and he was taken aback to find his pants halfway down. Evidently, he had attempted a nocturnal visit to the bathroom, to no avail. The imperative to breathe, to dispose of the cigarette stubs, and to discard his foul-smelling attire weighed heavily on him. The entire room reeked like an ashtray, and he marveled at how he had evaded setting off the smoke detector. Given the state of the hotel, perhaps it wasn't even operational. Lucky him.As he made his way to the bathroom, a sharp headache suddenly seized him. Struggling to maintain his balance, he leaned against the wall with both arms while he relieved himself, inadvertently leaving a mess behind. " Bollocks " he muttered aloud, his frustration mounting at his inability to carry out the simplest of tasks in a functional manner.The previous night, they had ventured out to revel at one of the many clubs recommended by their local friends. Ever since their second album gained traction, the rock and roll lifestyle had firmly ensnared them. Young talents reaching success and fame—what could possibly go wrong? One day, they were struggling to afford rent; the next, they were adorned in designer clothes, performing in front of thousands. Not too shabby, right? After all, wasn't a breakthrough what every band ultimately aspired to?He began gathering the scattered items in the room, attempting to reconstruct the events of the previous night. Memories flooded back: the deafening music of the club, the lines snorted in the bathroom with Steve, and vodka, lots of vodka. An overwhelming sensation surged through his body, his head pounding and a slight wave of nausea. He didn't know how much longer he could endure living this lifestyle, his body was exhausted and his mind intoxicated. There were moments when Stefan genuinely feared for his life. A heart attack? Quite possible. Overdose? Highly probable. Assassination by a deranged fan? A remote possibility for him, but a 99% chance for Brian...Brian's name lingered in Stefan's mind longer than he intended. He couldn't recall spending time with him last night; Brian had seemed more interested in cozying up to the blonde he'd been flirting with all evening. Not that Stefan had been paying much attention, or so he told himself. But deep down, he couldn't shake the feeling of annoyance. Why was Brian always on the pull instead of spending some quality time with them? With him? Stefan swallowed, feeling a twinge of jealousy in his own thoughts. Lately, he'd noticed a growing sense of discomfort whenever Brian showed up with a new conquest, always interrupting their moments of camaraderie. He shook his head, as if trying to dislodge the image that had formed in his mind, wishing he could erase all the hours he'd spent dwelling on the singer lately.But why, after so many years of playing together, was he starting to feel this way? In his view, nothing had really changed. But truth be told, as Brian became more and more renowned, he seemed increasingly addicted to the influence he wielded over others and less interested in spending time with his old comrades. Besides, he had this ridiculous ease in picking up whoever he wanted. He relished all the attention from both women and men alike. Perhaps Stefan craved that attention too—to feel desired, admired by others, and to draw Brian out of the limelight for a while. Taking a break from his high horse won't hurt him , Stefan thought cheerfully. Yes, that was likely it. That, and the fact that deep down, he missed his companion. How could he not?But it wasn't solely that; he felt it deep within. Lately, Stefan had started to notice facets of the singer that had previously escaped him, or at least, that he hadn’t given much thought to. It was during an afternoon after a soundcheck, they were smoking some fags outside, as the sun's rays filtered through the leaves of the trees and reflected in Brian's deep green-blue eyes. Stefan paused to contemplate him. His friend was there, engaged in conversation about a book he was reading at the time —Stefan couldn’t recall the title, as he was too focused on admiring the singer’s pale face, sporting a smile that lit up his features and a gaze that seemed to penetrate his soul. In that moment, something stirred inside the Swede, as if he had awoken from an emotional slumber he didn't even realize he had been in. He could discern the vulnerability in the singer’s words, his pure and genuine emotions, and all over a piece of literature ! Stefan found him so sensitive, he couldn't help but feel incredibly protective of him, as if he needed profound care. Seeing him like that, so delicate and vulnerable, had unveiled a new side of the man, one that Stefan found utterly endearing in a way. And he was falling for it.Stefan knew all of that, of course, and as ridiculous as it sounded, he was still in denial.He was heading to the shower when the phone rang. Not feeling particularly inclined to answer it, he forced himself to do so, recognizing the possibility of it being something important. And indeed it was. They had an interview scheduled on a radio program in just an hour from now and he had totally forgotten about it. The prospect didn't excite him too much. Stefan had always been a man of few words, especially in public. His shyness didn't quite align with his newfound rock star persona, even though he could completely let loose on stage. There, he felt like a different person, he enjoyed himself, played dress-up, flirted with everyone. He felt like someone with power who knew how to wield it. But offstage, well… he would do anything possible to go unnoticed by the rest of the world. If it were up to him, he'd attend interviews wearing a paper cone on his head, reminiscent of Steve in the trio's early photos. Reluctantly, he stepped into the shower, pondering the questions they would be asked. Most likely nothing out of the ordinary that would entice him to talk. Thankfully, for senseless—and non-stop—rambling, there was Brian, he thought.Brian... Again? Brian... Brian... The name echoed in his head, his body trembling under the water's cascade, surprised himself as his hand was now grabbing his fully erect dick. What? Not again. He started to stroke himself faster at the thought of the shorter man. No. Nope, that could not be happening. Jerking off thinking of his friend? his bandmate? his beloved angelic demon with green-blue eyes? Fuck, fuck indeed , he groaned. He couldn’t stop himself now, he was too deep in pleasure to be regretful. He came hard right after, the embarrassment slowly creeping in. ══ ✧ ❀ ✧ ══Why was it always the same? He had promised himself that this frenetic pace had to stop, yet here he was again, waking up with a stabbing pain in his head and practically no recollection of how he ended up back in the room. He made an effort to recall the events of the previous night, with little success as everything was shrouded in a blurry haze. As dry as a bone, he could sense that he had consumed more than necessary. He looked around, inquisitive, hoping not to find any surprises. There were no signs that any other than him had been there, at least.As he attempted to sit on the bed, a sudden wave of nausea washed over him. His thinness had reached a new level, and it was clear he wasn't eating enough to withstand the cocktail of narcotics and alcohol he was indulging in. With great effort, he managed to rise from the bed and make his way to the bathroom. Gazing at his reflection in the mirror, he observed the tiny crop top still clinging to his frame, his makeup smeared. “ I look like a used whore”, he thought with a tinge of shame. He projected confidence, eccentricity, and a hint of arrogance to the world, but deep down, Brian often felt nothing but pity for himself. Lately, those feelings were overpowering him. Every thought seemed darker than the last, replaying moments of shame and making him feel insignificant. He shook his head, hoping to clear his mind and find some semblance of redemption and solace. Five minutes later, he was back on his high horse. Why should I feel guilty about living my life on my own terms? he pondered . After all, he owed no one an explanation. He had distanced himself from his family, his romantic relationships had all but failed, and the only connections that mattered to him now were those who, like him, were awakening at this very moment, feeling just as lost and fucked up, if not worse.A note stuck to the desk served as a reminder of his tasks for the day: an interview for a radio program in an hour, nothing he couldn't handle with the rehearsed speech he had been reciting for a while. Brian enjoyed conversing, that much was undeniable. His bandmates were surely already tired of his annoying ability to talk incessantly, yet he seldom found the questions stimulating or novel enough to truly engage. So, while it was an easy task for him, the situation overwhelmed him simply due to the tedium of hearing the same questions over and over again. "This time I'm going to let Steve answer all these dumb questions," the musician thought to himself, knowing that it was not going to happen anyway. He reflected at the idea that he could only assign Steve that task, considering there was no way Stefan could handle the pressure of the press. He didn't care much about the bassist's shyness; in fact, he found it kind of adorable . And also, as for dealing with the press... Well, that was his job after all. Ah, the perks of being the frontman, he mused, ironically.In a hurried gesture, he shed the clothes from his body and stepped into the shower. He let the hot water cascade over him, the drops erasing the traces of his night of revelry. His mind began to wander, and his thoughts flowed smoothly like water as he cleaned his now shorter hair. One haircut ahead of the fans, right? He chuckled. Lately, he hadn't allowed himself much time to think; his emotions overwhelmed him to the point of no return, so he preferred to distract himself with various diversions. His most recent break-up had left a hairline crack in his heart, sore and raw. After shedding tears until there were none left, one day he resolved that he couldn't continue down that path and sought comfort from anyone willing to offer it. It wasn't that he felt proud of it or anything, but he found it rather amusing to think of that odd boy raised in Luxembourg suddenly receiving all this attention. And he didn't doubt that he deserved it either. His mood swung rapidly from self hatred to love, and these days, he was well aware of his desirability. And although all the sex, drugs and rock and roll he was living on helped him distract himself from the pain, his personal life, deep down, was at a highly catastrophic point. He teared up a bit at the thought, a feeling of emptiness engulfed him completely. ══ ✧ ❀ ✧ ══-” I think it’s quite healthy to fancy people who remind you of yourself, really”. Brian said, a puff of smoke coming out of his mouth. “But to be confronted by a thousand yous is weird, I don’t wanna shag with an exaggerated version of myself!” - “ That’s what you get from being too fucking sexy, Molks”, mentioned Steve, mockingly. - “You could try ‘em though, that’s the closest you’ll ever be near my dick”. Brian chuckled.-" Yeah, pass" The drummer laughed. "They're all coming for you, you fucking weirdo magnet”. The phrase made the singer cackle as he remembers saying it himself in the past. He definitely talked too much back then. Stefan observed his bandmates from a distance, watching as they laughed and conversed animatedly. Unlike him, who would give anything to disappear from the face of the earth at the moment, they didn’t seem to be affected by the events of the previous night. The hangover still wreaked havoc on his body, and the bassist felt his face grow pale and sweaty, every fiber of his being suddenly tense at the sight of… him . “ Nope, it must be the hangover” , he thought to himself. Yeah, the hangover and the overwhelming feeling of shame as he briefly recalled his “impasse” in the bathroom a few moments ago . Seeing Brian relaxed and laughing clashed with his intrusive, dark thoughts, those that made him feel like a traitor to his own morality.-” Look who finally decided to join us” , Steve mouthed at the sight of Stefan.-” The queen of Sweden”, Brian giggled , “our own personal dancing queen”, the singer added with a grin on his face. - “Only seventeen and hangin’”, Olsdal said as entering the conversation. -”Yeah what was that about? I woke up and I barely remembered anything from last night, my head was ki-lling-me”, Molko recalled. You might not remember but I do , thought Stefan, I know what you DID . -”That's proper rubbish, that is. Too much candy”, grinned Steve, pointing at his nose, Brian shaking his head as if it wasn’t true. The conversation continued among the trio, but Stefan felt disconnected from the world, enveloped in discomfort. How had he allowed himself, after all these years, to catch feelings for Brian?... Hold on a moment, he thought, has he said feelings? No, no, no, he needed to stop right there . He was definitely losing his grip. The laughter of his companions in the background faded into a distant, buzzing noise as his mind meandered through tumultuous thoughts, consumed by desire and shame.It’s just that he attempted so hard to persuade himself that they were merely fleeting thoughts, a passing fancy of his mind, but the more he resisted, the more apparent the truth became: he was infatuated with the singer. And it wasn't just any affection; it was a sensation that shook him to the core, that invigorated him in a manner he had never encountered before. Yup, he was ruined. -” Yo, Stef, you zoned out”, Steve called out.-” Thinking of someone you fancy, uh? ” Brian nudged the tall man, whose face turned red. -”Time to go, duty calls,” the tour manager said, rushing them to the van. ══ ✧ ❀ ✧ ══-”If you weren’t in Placebo what do you think you’d be doing now as an alternative career”? The reporter, Elizabeth, asked.-” Fighting depression”, Brian said.-” I’d probably be dead” , Steve joked.-...” I’d probably be a music teacher”, Stef mouthed. Of course his answer was the only serious one. The interview was unfolding more or less as Stefan had expected, although to his surprise, Brian seemed quieter than usual, more focused on charming the journalist than anything else. Shy and coy, as one might say. Of course, the singer had already initiated his conquest plan; Stefan knew all too well how it worked by now. He closed his eyes with displeasure, attempting to push aside the thoughts occupying his mind at that moment. Lost in his own imagination, he still felt high. What had he taken that he still couldn't shake off ? -”So Stefan? What do you think?” Elizabeth asked.
(awkward silence)
Of course, Stefan, blame the drugs for your impure thoughts, he chided himself silently. I didn't even take that much, did I? He couldn't even remember.Suddenly, he felt the gaze of all those present fixed directly on him, his name echoing in the background snapped him back to reality. -”Sorry, what was the question again?” Stefan asked, slightly confused. -”Sorry, our pal's a bit all over the place today, innit? He's proper nervous about getting back up on stage and smashing out our new tunes." Steve added, trying to save his colleague. -”Yeah, I can’t really think straight right now, too much going on”, Stefan said nervously, a sheepish smile on his face. -”You and me both, babe, though I do feel straighter than ever all of a sudden”, Brian remarked, directing his gaze at the journalist in front, who couldn't hide her blush.The interview ended and Stefan quickly stood up to grab a bottle of water. Steve followed after him, asking if he was okay. " Yeah, no, I'm fine, it's just I didn't get too much sleep last night and... " As he spoke, his gaze drifted to the pair in the background. Brian was conversing very closely with the interviewer; he could swear he saw them exchanging numbers. He was really fixated on watching them, analyzing the man's subtle gestures, trying to decipher his next move. Steve, a bit puzzled, followed Stefan's gaze. "Ahh…at least one of us is gonna score tonight " he said jokingly. " Yeah, tell me something new " Stefan replied, rolling his eyes as he left the studio heading towards the van.Back in the van, Bill mentioned something about a party tonight, and everyone quickly joined the conversation, excited about the prospect of a night out before resuming the concerts.-”Liza said it's gonna be wicked tonight ”, the singer added excitedly. -”Oh so it’s Liza now, uh?” , Steve said, raising an eyebrow. -"'Im sitting this one out ," Stefan suddenly said, causing everyone to look at him with surprise.- "What do you mean by 'sitting this one out'? " Brian interrupted. " Did I miss something ?"-"I think it's pretty self-explanatory " Stefan stated, giving the singer a direct look in the eyes.-”And I think it’s crap!” Brian protested, "It's the last one before the shows, we owe it to ourselves, it's tradition."-"What does it matter to you if I go or not anyway? It's not like you're going to be there with me or any of us, to be honest .” Stefan retorted.
(Oops, there it was, he couldn't stop himself).
-"I’m not following ," Brian admitted.-"Look Bri, lately, you've ditched us every time to chase after your swains, and you know what? No one says anything, it's your call, but then don't try to force the rest of us to go and do what you want when you won't even be there afterwards ," Stefan explained.-"Now that’s tosh, I'm always with you guys " Brian argued, looking at Steve for support.-"Well…” Steve hesitated . “The truth is, you've been a bit absent lately. But I don't blame ya, eh? You're pleasing yourself, that's dope ," said the drummer, obviously much more relaxed about the subject than Stefan.-”See, I'm not the only one who thinks that”. Stefan maintained. “I don't want to go, I’m tired and have no intention of dancing to Brian and his latest shag's beat tonight, who, by the way... Liza? Seriously? We’ll reach a point where we won't be able to give any interviews because you'll have fucked all the reporters .”-"You say it as if fucking with me were a problem, when the real issue —and what's going to keep us out of all the interviews—is your inability to answer a bloody question " Brian added, somewhat annoyed. “ Today was very unprofessional ”, he concluded.
(He didn’t really care about it, but no way in hell he was losing this argument).
-"And flirting with the interviewers isn't unprofessional? "-"Not really, ” Brian admitted. “And you sound like a jealous boyfriend, darling ."- "Yeah, you wish ," Stefan sighed, his gaze directly to his feet.-"No ," Brian looked at him, raising an eyebrow, a cocky smile on his face. As if suddenly he could see it. As if he knew . -” You wish. "
(Oh my god he knew).
Stefan shook his head disapprovingly, put on his headphones, and decided to tune out the world for the rest of the ride. ══ ✧ ❀ ✧ ══Why was Stefan causing trouble over something as mundane as sex? What did he care about who I decided to sleep with, really? It's not like it's any of his business. I wasn't even taking away his chances (To be realistic, Brian was only hanging out with women lately. If anything, Steve should be the one to get upset with him for picking up all the girls and leaving none behind for him). What nonsense. And calling me unprofessional for that? He's the one who made a fool of himself today. He really can't blame it on being hammered, if that were the case, everyone would have failed today. Plus, let's not pretend this is the first time we've given an interview or even performed under the influence. No, there must be something else going on with Stefan. His internal rambling could not let go, he knew something was off, he had noticed a change in Stefan’s behavior lately, he seemed more distant and avoidant. The singer tried to remember if anything had happened lately between them that could have gotten Stefan upset. No memory came to mind, but if he's honest with himself, he hasn't been remembering much from the events where alcohol and cocaine ruled. That's why they had agreed to take it easy now with the recording of the new album and the subsequent tour.His thoughts drifted back to Stefan. Had he detected jealousy in their earlier argument? Could it be possible that after all this time, the Swede had developed some sort of sexual attraction toward him? Maybe even feelings? The idea caught Brian by surprise, not because he had never considered it, but because it didn't seem entirely far-fetched to him. It even aroused some… curiosity? Oh, he really was a terrible person. Determined to understand what was going on, he gathered his belongings and the hotel key card, and swiftly made his way to Stefan's room.Stefan was sprawled on the bed, trying not to dwell on the earlier events, unsuccessfully of course. " You wish ," was what Brian had said to him, as if he knew what he was going through. Perhaps he did know; the singer had always had some sort of power over him, a sixth sense, if you could tell. Brian was always able to read him like no one else ever had. He deciphered all his thoughts, the expressions on his face, his silences —and there were many. This intimate knowledge had, in the early days of their relationship, fostered a unique understanding, as if they were two individuals destined to know each other. Their relationship had grown so strong that Stefan considered him his best friend, his confidant, and the only person in the world truly capable of seeing him. So yeah, it didn't surprise him that Brian knew that he himself was the subject of the bassist’s darkest fantasies.Engulfed in his hesitations, he was startled by the sound of knocking on the door. Dismayed and unwilling to talk, due to his uncontrollable, excessively polite demeanor—his Swedish side showing—he couldn't help but rise to open the door, prepared to graciously tell whoever was there to buzz off. He opened the door, and his surprise was immense when he saw a particular singer with a curious gaze, insisting on being let in. He couldn't say no. Not to him.-"So? " the singer broke the silence.-"What do you want, Brian? You're the one who came knocking on my door ."-"Well... I was hoping you could explain to me what happened to you today. Unless you prefer me to draw my own conclusions ", The singer replied with a mischievous smile.-"There's not much to explain. I didn't sleep enough, I'm knackered, and honestly, I'm tired of always being the one expected to give in to every argument ."-"There wouldn't have been an argument if it weren't for you, y’know?. "-"Well, I had a bad day. Are you satisfied with that? " Stefan felt like giving up with… whatever this was.-"Not even close. Also, what was that about giving me a lecture about my choice of partners? Since when do you give a fuck who I sleep with? ". He couldn't let it go, could he? -"No... that's not it Brian, and you know it. " ( Did he? )The singer looked at him pretending not to understand, demanding a more elaborate answer.-"It's just that... I miss you. I miss my friend. And I know you've had a rough time and you want to put yourself back together in a very Brian Molko kind of way, but I've needed you too, and you don't seem to care about anyone but yourself ." Stefan hoped his argument sounded convincing. It was partially true though.A reality check hit the singer hard. He hadn't stopped to reflect on the impact of his actions or inactions on others. Stefan was his best friend, and if he was sincere, he couldn't remember the last time they had a deep conversation about anything or if he had asked him how he was doing, if he needed anything. Fuck. He was a terrible friend. A terrible, narcissistic person too. Instead of thinking that the bassist needed a friend, he was already imagining that the Swede wanted to get fucked. By him.- “I... I'm sorry, Stef. I didn't know. I haven't been at my best either, if you ask me ”.- “I know, and I wish you would talk to me about it instead of constantly making excuses and fucking around with people who don't deserve you” . Stefan added, showing his frustration.- Brian sighed. “ Let's start over, shall we? No bullshit tonight. You, Steve, and I, as it should be” .- “You're assuming I'm going to the party… ” Stefan said with a genuine smile.- “Oh honey, some things never change. Do I have to remind you that I always get what I want?” he said, winking an eye then turned away to leave the room. But as he reached the door, a sudden urgency gripped him. He hesitated, then turned back, still unsure about what he was about to say...- “I'm a bit disappointed, to be honest. I was really hoping you were jealous of me fucking somebody else”. He closed the door behind him, not letting Stefan reply.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Brian's words left Stefan puzzled, unable to grasp the motives behind his bandmate's actions. "Did he really wish I was jealous?" The thought seemed nonsensical to Stefan, who also interpreted it as a manifestation of arrogance and self-centeredness, just another addition to the catalog of morally dubious maneuvers by Brian. Perhaps he was merely testing the waters, Stefan pondered. He understood all too well that the singer had a penchant for maintaining control, even in trivial matters. The crux of it all lay in staying one step ahead. For Stefan, however, life was about embracing the unexpected and navigating with a sense of ease, acknowledging the futility of trying to reign over the uncontrollable currents beyond his grasp.Somehow, many marveled at his art of withdrawing, of pondering all amidst the hush, oftentimes choosing silence even in the face of vexation. He preferred to await the stillness, his inner turmoil held in check. He was, in a way, the epitome of tranquility, a quality that sometimes chafed against his peers. Steve had implored him countless times to respond, to voice his thoughts without reserve. And then there was Brian, his tempestuous nature at odds with the tranquil philosophy of the bassist. Perhaps that's what made them get along so well, the idea that opposites attract or something like that? Yet, in the aftermath of their storms, the singer unfailingly sought solace in apology, being sorry for his outbursts and acknowledging the treasure of his companion's ability to offer a different perspective when everyone else was swept away by stress and anxiety.Stefan admired that about Brian – despite his gruff demeanor and stubborn streak, he possessed the grace to seek forgiveness, even in the depths of his most profound mistakes. It lent him a certain nobility, Stefan thought. Often, Brian found himself locked in an internal struggle. The bassist had long realized that the singer's greatest adversary lay within – his unyielding ego. Stefan had once mentioned this during one of their late-night heart-to-hearts, though those moments seemed to grow fewer with time.Deep down, Stefan knew his friend to be kind and considerate, yet he had crafted a façade that veered from his true nature. Yes, Brian could be self-absorbed, a trait seemingly unshakable, but his heart burned with a fervent desire for growth, yearning to shed the constraints of his public persona.In the end, it was a recurring pattern – outsiders painted distorted portraits of his character, assigning him curious monikers in the press. Journalists approached him with a mix of curiosity and apprehension, at least that's how Stefan perceived it. After a passage of time though, a consensus emerged: the singer was, in truth, a gentle soul, far more anchored and self-aware than peers of his stature. Upon introspection, Stefan mused that pretense was the guise of all, and thus, his companion's adoption of a persona bore no peculiarity. Brian had cast himself as the “enfant terrible" and Stefan enjoyed that performance, knowing deep down he held the key to his partner's depths: a wounded child trapped in an adult's body, his actions a mere echo of trauma's touch. Well “half an adult, since he's quite small”, he thought jokingly.He endeavored to divert his mind for a fleeting moment, wary of letting his contemplations of Brian linger too long. Thoughts turned to his cherished method of slipping away from reality: immersing himself in the art he knew best. With tender fingers, he reached for his guitar, coaxing forth chords of a melody that had been in his mind's eye for a while. Diligently, he sought the elusive harmony, sensing he stood on the precipice of a revelation. Each note was carefully transcribed, not yet wholly convinced, but cognizant of the promise held within.Stefan found solace in those solitary moments of creation, yet it was amidst the collective synergy of his bandmates that his creativity truly flourished. Together, they wove melodies and lyrics, each instrument a voice in a symphony of expression. It was within this crucible of collaboration that their latest album took shape, and they believed it to be their best work yet. The trio dared to explore uncharted realms, delving into individual forays of musical exploration. Sleepless nights and arduous creative endeavors ensued, culminating in a masterpiece imbued with their collective spirit.In the span of a mere three months, they birthed an album—a feat deemed audacious by industry standards. Stefan mused that such was the life of a full-time artist: a journey where the act of creating music intertwined seamlessly with life itself, each note a testament to the passage of time and the soul's enduring quest for transcendence.Life unfolds while you're making music, not the other way around.He found himself suddenly enveloped in darkness. Since he had finally decided to go to the famous party, influenced - and somewhat coerced - by Brian, he decided it was time to get ready. It wasn't that he lacked the desire to attend; rather, he had been consumed by the tumult of the afternoon, Brian's peculiar behavior weighing heavily on his mind. Moreover, the onset of their promotional tour for the new album loomed near, prompting a collective agreement to take it easy. Stefan reminisced about the pivotal moment that had tested their resolve, prompting them to question the very essence of their endeavor. Brian and Steve, the angry twins, engaged in a relentless clash, their discord threatening to unravel the tapestry they had woven with such dedication. In a moment of righteous fury, the drummer confronted Brian with an ultimatum: "look mate, you’re fucking with some really dodgy shit here. I cannot let you fuck up anymore." Following this cathartic confrontation, things calmed down a bit, with the group pledging to maintain sobriety throughout the upcoming tour. Yet, amid the ebb and flow of days, they found themselves ensnared by the allure of their hedonistic pastimes, reluctant to relinquish the intoxicating grip of familiarity. Indeed, old habits die hard, as the adage goes. It was a delicate balancing act, navigating between the allure of their former selves and the promise of a newfound focus on their craft. Thus, Stefan harbored hope that this night would serve as a symbolic farewell to their former selves, heralding a dawn of renewal and artistic and personal rejuvenation. Such, at least, was what they wished for.With a spirited heart, he gazed into the mirror, a whirlwind of excitement and apprehension enveloping him. Perhaps tonight would indeed mark a new beginning, he pondered, echoing Brian's parting words. "I was really hoping..." Nah, he laughed softly to himself, dismissing his own fanciful musings. "that you were jealous"... Yet, the thought lingered, a relentless whisper. Damn Brian fucking Molko and his cherubic face.He longed to embody perfection. With a playful smile, he beheld his reflection in the mirror, swaying to the melody of one of his latest tunes. "I should do these moves on stage," he mused playfully. ══ ✧ ❀ ✧ ══"I'd have paid for him to see his own face," he ruminated silently. Though Brian found satisfaction in merely observing his friend's reaction, a pang of remorse gripped him for causing discomfort to his friend. He couldn't fathom why he'd uttered those words in the first place. It was a spur-of-the-moment impulse, a manifestation of his unfiltered thoughts. That lack of restraint had led him astray before. Despite having supposedly matured beyond such behavior, he occasionally yearned to embrace youthful folly. Wasn't he, a rockstar, entitled to such antics? Yet, he aspired to rise above, to remind himself of his new loftier standards. Sometimes, he had to reiterate it to himself more often than he cared to admit.But Stefan, really? That wasn't a realm he could afford to dabble in. Stefan was his friend, arguably the most important person in his life these days, even if they had grown somewhat distant. Even if work occasionally got in the way, allowing conflicts to consume them. And, oh, how adept Brian was at drama; no wonder he had majored in theater. Surely those college years had left their mark, hadn't they? It wasn't that he deliberately sought out drama; it simply came naturally to him. Perhaps he was becoming accustomed to playing a role, to maintaining a façade; undoubtedly, he needed it to preserve his sanity. In the end, it was a mechanism to shield his authentic self from the world, to avoid being exposed.So why had he spilled the beans then? Uncertain still, yet he craved the bassist quaking in his boots. There was a perverse pleasure in envisioning the Swede going nuts over… him? He guessed. He sought to unsettle him, to goad him to the brink, to unravel what lay beneath. Perhaps Stefan needed that push, one only he could provide. And perchance, he too yearned for a spark of thrill. After an eternity of heartache, it was time to infuse vitality into the equation.Undoubtedly, he couldn't help but acknowledge that the situation perplexed him. Even more so did his own actions. To him, the bassist represented far more than a mere companion on life's journey and within Placebo; he was akin to a beacon illuminating his steps amidst the darkness, an oasis of wisdom in the barren wasteland of uncertainty. He admired his reflective capacity, his humility in embracing his own imperfections, and, ultimately, his authenticity. In a world where many feigned to be what they were not, encountering someone who displayed genuine, unassuming sincerity was a treasure of inestimable value.Moreover, Stefan's profound tenderness and his ability to evoke a sense of constant protection stirred him deeply, leaving him immeasurably grateful for such a special presence in his life. Yet, why had he never entertained the notion of something deeper? Let’s say the thought had indeed surrounded him, at times, amidst chaotic and effervescent intoxication Perhaps he viewed Stefan as an oasis: useful yet distant from his destined path. Always searching for love in the wrong places, uh?. Despite considering himself a romantic, he might have underestimated the depths of his own feelings. Maybe he hadn't truly comprehended love. Maybe love was just this: your best friend whom you suddenly desired to shag!He was taken aback by the realization. He desired him too. ══ ✧ ❀ ✧ ══-"So, where were we off to, then?" Steve asks, somewhat lost. They were waiting for Brian in the hotel terrace. Certainly, the shorter man was taking his time. Unlike him, who just threw on shorts and a T-shirt, his companion was much more pretentious. He had probably changed his outfit several times, not to mention makeup. Steve didn't understand any of that; to him, all those products Brian wearead were the same.-"No idea mate. I wasn’t even gonna bother, if you remember" the Swede replies, smiling in a resigned manner.-"Whatever Brian did to convince ya, I'm thankful for it”, Steve comments, slightly relieved.-"Stefan is quite capable of making his own decisions." Both men turned to look at Brian, who was coming towards them with his un-lit cigarette in hand. "Although maybe I … uh, provided him with some motivation with my words," the singer says as he brings his cigarette closer to Steve for him to light. After taking the first drag, he moves to face Stefan and says "Did I encourage ya?”Stefan looks away in an unreadable gesture, no words coming out of his mouth. “So I guess he's going to persist with this game”, pondered the bassist. Perhaps the sole feasible choice is to go along with it after all…The silence lingered longer than desired while Steve observed them curiously, not entirely sure what was going on. Honestly, he wasn't certain if he really wanted to know. "Well," he interrupts. "It's our last night, lads, let's not cock it up."- "I was thinking, y’know, what do ya reckon about us givin' our mate Charlie a proper send-off?” Brian says suddenly, pulling a small bag from his jeans pocket.-"Bloody hell, can't you go without it, can ya?" "Steve exclaims.- "Where did you get that?" Stefan asks, his eyes looking a bit gobsmacked.- "I don’t kiss and tell!" the singer comments, spreading a laugh into the air.- "I'm not sure if we should," Steve says, sounding concerned. Stefan nods.- "Don't be cynical” The words come out of Brian's mouth with a tinge of frustration. “I know what you blokes did last night."- "Well, Bill is a blabbermouth" Stefan protests.- "Exactly" Steve mutters. "Us" he says, pointing to Stefan and himself, trying to make a point.- “See, this one -Brian says pointing at Stefan- was blaming me for not being around when it’s ultimately you who shut me out of all the fun, eh?" the singer claims.-"I remind you it weren't us who passed out on the last tour from not refusin' any little treats" Steve says in a serious tone. The memories of that time were so obscure, even today they made him feel guilty about how far they had gone and everything they might have lost.- Brian sighs. "Jesus, get a grip mum. Maybe you should quit and become our tour manager” he giggles. “And I..uh, been there, done that y’know" he replies, drawing an invisible path with the movement of his hands at the same time. "Come on, just for old time’s sake and then we'll quit, for good. I'm even willing to give up vodka" he claims, with a serious look.The three looked at each other incredulously, then burst out laughing. ”Went a bit too far over there”, Stefan says smiling, his gaze meeting Brian’s for the first time. ══ ✧ ❀ ✧ ══They had no clue where they were, but the place looked quite nice. Immediately, they noticed it resembled an ancient palace. "Sound," Steve remarked as he saw the colorful lights bouncing off the old marble statues on one side of the venue. The aged checkerboard floor served as the perfect dance floor, with a crowd of bodies moving energetically to the rhythm of a song in a language none of the three understood. It seemed like they would blend in there. That appealed to all three of them. Being a star had its perks, but undoubtedly, the downsides often stood out, especially when it came to their private lives being exposed. Moreover, they hadn't done much to avoid excessive talk about their personal affairs. "Put it all down to this chatty little fella”, Steve would often jest, referring to Brian's inability to keep quiet. "It's not our fault nobody talked to you back then", Stefan would add, knowing well about the singer's reserved past. Brian would react with a dismissive gesture to his companions' jokes, usually responding with something that reminded them that if it weren't for him and his charming personality, they wouldn't have the fame they had today. Although, honestly, he knew he had gone too far with some of his interviews, and the press hadn't helped; on the contrary, certain journalists had tarnished them in the media, and the level of intrusion into their privacy far exceeded the treatment given to any other band of the moment.Amidst the vibrant clamor of the party, Stefan surreptitiously observed Brian, allowing his gaze to linger on the singer for the first time that evening. Each time their eyes met during conversation, a knot tightened in Stefan's stomach. He wondered if anyone else noticed the intensity of his gaze fixed on his companion, if his eyes betrayed his desires to the world. Brian, however, carried on with effortless charm, engrossed in conversation with the others. He didn't seem particularly focused on the bassist, though he occasionally sent a smile his way. Stefan, lost in his own thoughts, only half-heartedly participated in the background chatter, nodding along and offering occasional murmurs. The truth was, he was consumed by a sense of unease; he couldn't comprehend why he was reacting this way towards Brian now. It seemed utterly absurd from every angle. A road to disaster.He felt a nervous flutter whenever his gaze fell upon him, constantly wary that the singer might discern his true intentions. He admired Brian's lean, noticeably bronzed physique; the holiday in the south of France had certainly left its mark. Stefan vividly recalled the first day he'd seen Brian arrive with that sun-kissed complexion, a sight that stirred something within him. He had always held a certain fascination for men with a Latino appearance, a trait Brian didn't possess, yet now, with his captivating tan, he exuded a newfound allure. His physique appeared more chiseled, though Stefan couldn't shake his concern for Brian's well-being. Aware of certain unhealthy habits the singer indulged in, Stefan's inexplicable urge to protect him intensified. Still, he couldn't deny the stirring effect of Brian's sharply defined jawline, evoking indescribable sensations within him.Trying to hide it, he looked away, pretending to be interested in anything other than the small man in front of him. He decided it was time to get a drink. Some liquid courage would come in handy at this moment; otherwise, he wouldn't make it through the whole night. ══ ✧ ❀ ✧ ══He had been sitting at the bar for a while, drinking quietly. He wanted to escape from the group to avoid dealing with Brian, who was suddenly acting indifferent to him. That's what alcohol was for, right? To evade and not think about your bandmate and his half opened shirt, the sun-kissed and recently shaved chest, and his perfect pearly lips. Alcohol was made to prevent you from thinking about melting right there at the suffocating smell of your friend’s perfume mixed with tobacco and sweat. Well… supposedly. In reality, Stefan was living proof that it only made it worse.- “¿Te puedo decir algo?” A deep male voice suddenly says. Stefan was startled by the interruption.- “¿Perdona?” Stefan responds, with a slightly rusty Spanish.The man sat next to him at the bar, completely confident. "Ya, es que te he estado mirando un buen rato y no he podido dejar de pensar en que..." He suddenly stopped when he saw the bassist gesture for him to stop.- “Mi español no es tan buena” he says, shyly.- “Bueno”. The Spanish man says to him, his deep brown eyes directly watching Stefan.- “¿Cómo?”, the Swede questions.- “Mi español no es tan bueno” that's how you say it.- “Bueno”, Stefan says, smiling at him. “Gracias”. The man next to him seemed attractive, and that accent. Stefan liked it.- “Ok, I'll try again”... The man coughed. “So I've been looking at you all night …”-Where you now? The bassist interrupts flirtatiously. "I would have noticed."- “Guess you were noticing someone else then” the other man responds, somewhat disappointed.-”Nah!” The bassist dismiss it with a flick of his wrist (it was true though).- “It sucks, doesn’t it? The man pauses. “Being ignored by the one you want”.Stefan sighs in resignation. Brian was really ignoring him right now, which had disappointed the bassist and ruined his idea for the night. "You wouldn’t know," he finally says.- “I'm about to find out. Are you going to test my theory or are you going to be the exception?” The man says, grabbing the musician's hand and dragging him onto the dance floor. ══ ✧ ❀ ✧ ══Brian seemed restless, which wasn't so unusual for him after sniffing cocaine. However, to everyone's surprise, he hadn't done so this time. In a moment of clarity, he passed the bag to someone in the group, choosing to stay clean. On the other hand, the vodka seemed to not be having an effect, or so he thought. He was immersed in conversations ranging from musical technicalities to ridiculous anecdotes from the last tour. He was already eager to start touring again, needing to renew his energy and stop singing "the weed song" day after day, as he often referred to his worldwide hit "Pure Morning". Honestly, the tour for his latest album had left him exhausted, not only because they traveled to more countries than he could remember, but also because the entire creative process had been engulfed in absolute sadness. He wished to leave behind his arrogant behavior, his somewhat selfish ways. If he allowed himself to acknowledge it, he needed to stop being a jerk. So here he was now, more self-aware than he had expected before setting out that night, and much more lucid than he had been in years of prolonged revelry. His head was spinning. His head, his stomach, and... his heart?- "Where the hell is Stefan, by the way? Haven’t seen him all night!" Brian suddenly asks.- "Learning new moves by the looks of it" Bill replies, nodding in the direction of the Swede who was in the middle of the dance floor with an unfamiliar guy.- "Well! It was about time for him," Steve jokes. All the other men seemed pleased at the sight.Brian followed Bill's gaze until he saw Stefan dancing close -too close- with a guy. Who was he? Why was he with him? His body tensed suddenly, swallowing hard and unable to hide his jealousy he finally says, "What a hypocrite, today was supposed to be about us, wasn't it?"-"Come on, mate! If anyone needed to get some action, it was him," Steve says, smiling. “Dude needs to relax”."But he ruined my bloody date," the singer exclaims."How is that even possible?" Steve asks incredulously."By raising false hopes," the singer shouted before storming off in Stefan's direction. ══ ✧ ❀ ✧ ══Sweaty bodies swayed fervently to the beat of the music around them. Stefan let himself go, guided mainly by the countless glasses of vodka he had consumed. Additionally, his new friend had given him a little pill, “algo para ponerse en onda”, he had said. Stefan didn't understand much Spanish, but he was easily impressed by his accent and warm attitude. He had definitely been hoping to feel that closeness and free himself from the burden of being in love with his best friend. In fact, he managed to forget about Brian for a moment.Suddenly, the image of his companion appeared in front of him."Brian?" he murmured upon seeing the singer looking at him from just a few meters away. He had a somewhat distressed expression, rather disappointed."Es David, pero vale, venga, me puedes llamar como quieras, ¿eh?" The man next to him replies."No," the musician corrects himself. "Brian, my friend, he is right here”. “Hey,” the Swede threw at Brian, who was now standing right next to him.-"Enjoying yourself, Stef?" he asks, while his gaze goes directly to the man in front of his friend, checking him out. Despite his short stature, the singer knew perfectly well how to make a first impression, and his attitude was completely intimidating. He was a rock star, after all.-"This is my friend David," Stefan finally says with a smile.-"I see," the singer replies, with no intention of greeting the Spaniard. "I thought today was a night for us," he asks sarcastically.-"I wanted to dance for a while, you were too busy chatting," the Swede invents. At this point, he doesn't care if it sounds believable or not.-"I feel like dancing, but three is a crowd, so I'll leave you to continue, y'know…" The singer scoffs, turning on his heel, heading for the exit.Stefan was taken aback. Once again trapped without an escape route by Brian's incomprehensible attitudes, yet he couldn't contain the excitement caused by the singer finally deciding to approach him. His desires to run after him were only halted by the guilt of leaving alone the one who had been accompanying him all this time. For a minute, he had forgotten about him. David was looking at him with a resigned look. After a few minutes of silence, he finally says, “At least I was right. It sucks.”Stefan looks at him sweetly, seeking understanding. The man returns him a smile and gestures for him to move. The bassist interprets it as permission, releasing himself from guilt. “It was great meeting you,” he says before running after the singer. His heart pounding, he didn't know if it was the drugs or the fear of delving into something that could change the course of his life forever.He found the singer leaning against a wall, lighting a cigarette. He approached close enough to be seen by the other man, who offered him a shy smile. Taking it as an invitation, the bassist walked towards him, standing dangerously close.-“Trying to make me jealous?” Brian blurts out, surprisingly his tone is not ironic and his smile reveals genuine nervousness.-“Did it work?” Fuck it, Stefan thought, it's now or never.-“Totally” Brian smiles at him. This time there was malice in his gaze.Their eyes met.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
This is how it all happened. You came after me. I saw you come through the evacuation route, and our eyes met the moment you finally found me leaning against this corner.You came after me, and nothing else seemed to matter. Where did that Spanish guy you were dancing with go? I guess you left him for me. I want to believe that.I can see you're nervous; I know you well. I remember those early days when we waited backstage at our first shows. You used to pace back and forth, your eyes sparkling with excitement while your hands trembled, betraying your fear. I’d watch your long fingers moving restlessly, sometimes unaware that you’d bring them to your mouth in a compulsive gesture. You’d bite your nails and then regret it instantly, knowing you should take care of them. Reflexively, I’d check my own hands: a mess of bitten nails and chipped black polish. I felt ashamed to appear so messy, but I had no time or desire to fix them; I was too focused on you and that cheap drink in your hand. Often you’d go for a sip of vodka instead. I think it’s still your favorite, though these days you wouldn’t waste a good drink by gulping it straight from the bottle, letting half of it spill down your neck. We’ve learned something; we’ve gotten a bit more sophisticated, or at least we like to think so. But back then, things were different, nothing else mattered. It was just you and me and our three terrible songs facing the world.Now you’re coming closer, hesitating. The distance is short, but it feels like an eternity. You walk toward me, unsure of what to do with your hands. You’re not looking at me, and I pretend not to notice. I light a cigarette, a familiar habit, even though I know it’s not good for me. Smoking has always been my refuge, the only thing I'd given enough power to destroy me. You know I can be a little dramatic about it. It’s ironic how good it makes me feel at the same time I know it’s killing me. But there’s something oddly soothing about this absurd ritual! At least with a cigarette in hand, I have something to focus on, something to distract me from the tension hanging in the air between us. I exhale slowly, watching the tendrils of smoke dance away, wishing the distance between us could vanish just as easily.This is how it happened. You came by my side, and I couldn’t help but smile; I think it helped you relax because suddenly the tension in your face eased.—”Are you trying to make me jealous?”—I blurted out, the words slipping out before I could think. It was a ridiculous thing to say, and it didn’t help the situation. I won’t lie, I’ve imagined this moment before, but I never pictured myself tossing out a clumsy line to flirt with you.To flirt with you. God, it feels absurd now. Maybe it’s not too late to backtrack. Maybe you’ll see right through my mess and just tell me to fuck off. Please, do it. Tell me to fuck off because I don’t know what to do next or where to hide from this embarrassment. Oh, Brian, you always manage to screw it up.—”Did it work?”Shit, are you really playing my game? This could end badly for both of us. It might even be the end, but my body is burning with desire, and I can’t falter now. That would make me a coward, and I know you don’t like cowards. I’m many things you don’t like if you really think about it. I’m bad news and I’m going to ruin us. My confidence starts to crumble due to my intrusive thoughts. But why would you ever be interested in someone like me when you have so many better options? After all, I’m a mess, and you know that better than anyone.I should act reasonably, be the better person, after all, I started this but instead, as if it had a life of its own, my mouth blurts out:—“Totally.”And now what? Tell me, what do we do, Stefan?══ ✧ ❀ ✧ ══I’m mustering all the courage I have to keep my gaze locked on yours. A breeze has swept a strand of hair across your face, placing something between us. But honestly, I can't stand anything coming between us anymore; it all feels so unnecessary… So, I gently tuck the hair behind your ear, my hand lingering there for a moment. it’s the closest I’ve been to touching you, even though my hands have wandered over your body before. But it’s not the same. Pretending by your side on stage is one thing, but caressing your face while we stare into each other’s eyes is something entirely different. This feels intimate. It’s just you and me, not just characters.There are so many things I want to say to you that I don’t even know where to start. Part of me feels like I should apologize for being with someone else just a few minutes ago, but that feels pointless. Still, I want to explain that no matter how many people are around me, your presence fills everything.I’m sorry if this feels too cheesy, I think I’ve had too much to drink. I actually feel a bit dizzy, yet at the same time, I’ve never felt clearer. Brian, I need you to understand that I know this could ruin everything, because while it might seem like a game to you, nothing has ever felt as real to me.Shit. I just realized you might actually be playing with me, and having me here like this might just be entertaining for you. I believe in your good heart, but sometimes you act like a complete idiot, and if there’s one thing you love, it’s getting your way. Suddenly, my head starts to ache from overthinking. How long have we been here? A lifetime?Just kidding, it hasn’t even been a minute, and already the silence feels heavy. Where did your confidence go? Please, say something, or I’m going to lose it.I see you’re about to speak, moving closer, and my heart starts to race.—“Stefan,” you suddenly say, almost in a whisper. Your mouth is so close that I can feel your breath and the warmth radiating from your body.You hesitate, unsure of how to continue. “I don’t think this is the best moment for this.”The words spill from your lips, but your body seems to disagree, because you’re so close... Ugh, maybe you’re right; we are surrounded by people, and I don’t know if I can hold back once I have you. Besides, I don’t think we’re ready for the rest of the world to find out.—“So, what exactly is this, Brian?”—“You know. What you and I want to do,” you reply, taking another drag from your cigarette.—“I know what I want to do, but what about you?”You lean closer, your lips hovering over my ear. —“Oh, I have a lot of things I want to do to you.” You pause for a moment and then say, —“But not here.”We glance at each other for a second or two, and suddenly, we’re laughing, but it feels different this time. It’s not like when you tell a silly joke and your loud, infectious laughter pulls everyone in like a magnet. Yeah, you do that even if you don’t like the way you laugh. No, this is a nervous, shared smile—an expression of our secret.—“We’re about to mess this up, aren’t we?” you say.—“Is that how you really feel?” I don’t know if I want to hear your answer, but I can’t help but ask. I need to know if this is just a fling for you.—“I guess I feel like there’s this big moment right here, where everything’s about to shift and change. It’s a little scary but also exciting, you know?”Damn, dear Brian, I don’t know if this is the right time to get you all contemplative and stuff. —“I’m willing to take that risk.”You look me up and down with an intense gaze. —“Well… only if you can handle it.”—“After all this time, do you really think I don’t have what it takes?” I wonder where this sudden confidence is coming from.You chuckle, a smirk playing on your lips. —“Most people don’t have the constitution for it.”—“Guess I’m not most people…”You take a step closer, your eyes locked on mine. “Thank god I like a challenge” you say, your voice low and seductive, smoke curling from your lips.This is it. I’m going to kiss you next, I don't care about what you said. I lean in, my gaze tracing your lips and you’re receptive… we’re so close…“So there you both are”, Steve interrupted the scene, loud and cheerful. “This fucking band was supposed to be a trio, you know”.—"Shit".