1. One Step Closer

‘’Before you leave me now, tell me where the hell I am
Before you’re taken down, won’t you tell me once again

before you get the chance, don’t take away my memories
before you leave me now..’’

October 2015

Honestly, he didn’t have the slightest clue on what the man next to him was talking about, but he enjoyed listening to the sound of his voice. Now he came to think of it, he didn’t have the slightest clue on who the man next to him actually was. Normally, that would bother the hell out of him, but right now, he didn’t really mind. He was too tired to care about stuff like that.

The man was fairly talkative. Brian used to be talkative too, so they had that in common. The man was gripping his hand, squeezing it every so often to see if Brian was still awake. Brian opened his eyes slightly to confirm that, yes, he was still awake, and saw the man smile down at him, rubbing his fingers gently over Brian’s arm. Brian closed his eyes again and nodded to himself, deciding to trust the brown haired man. There was a small silence before the man continued his meaningless story. Brian didn’t understand the words he was saying. The fog in his head was too thick for that and he didn’t feel he had the energy to clear it up and make sense of his brother’s talk.

My brother.

Smiling to himself, he identified the person next to him, feeling like he’d just won a contest. Maybe, in some way, he did. A contest with myself.

Harry had probably seen the smile on his face, because he heard him starting to laugh loudly. He squeezed his brother’s hand, indicating for him to stop making so much noise. Brian didn’t do noise very well when he was tired, but he didn’t want Harold to leave. He felt much better than he had a few hours ago. He remembered the relief he’d felt when they’d finally taken the needle out of his arm. Harry hadn’t been there yet, or had he?

Anyway, he was certain there had been a woman, but she left some time ago. Probably because he hadn’t been the nicest company to be around. Not in the least when dr. Something told him he had to stay at the hospital. Not that he had complained about that, cause he was feeling way too sick to concentrate on anything but the indescribable nausea roaring in his stomach. That was probably the reason she left. He couldn’t really blame her, cause he’d never been a joy to be around after a round of chemo. Usually he was just a miserable excuse for a man. He’d never felt as miserable as he had this time though. She left and was replaced by his brother, who was once again telling a vivid story about whatever.

He listened on, feeling his attention slip more and more, while the fog was getting thicker and thicker. He wondered who the man talking next to him was.

June 1997

Love would come around and hit you in the face, especially when you didn’t want it to. He’d been feeling down for two months, forced to break up with his cheating girlfriend. He still couldn’t believe she’d actually been cheating on him, though he shouldn’t have been that surprised. His former girlfriend had also gone and cheated. And the one before that.

Maybe he was doing something wrong?

Had he not been dearly devoted towards them? Had he not tried to call them every time he could find a spot in his rushing schedule? Maybe you were not supposed to do that? Maybe you were supposed to be cool and mysterious? Maybe girls grew sick of you over time, if you were being too nice and attentive to them? But what was he supposed to do then? He wasn’t mysterious, or silent, or cool. In fact, he was too clumsy with girls to really make a difference. He was the guy all the girls would run to for comfort when their boyfriends had cheated on them. He’d been supposed to make them laugh, nothing else. In their eyes he was this genderless object that would make them feel better. Even Nick was better with women than him, and the kid was only seventeen. It was downright frustrating.

October 2015

He must have blacked out, cause the next thing he knew, he was placed gently on the backseat of a car. He heard the voices above him, but couldn’t make out the muffled sounds they were making. He saw them towering over him and recognized the brown haired man from earlier. He remembered the man being awfully talkative, but couldn’t think of a name that would even remotely sound familiar.

He tried to look up but stopped when he felt his head spinning and the all too familiar nausea come back. The blinding winter sun only made things worse and he did his best to turn around on his stomach, putting his face into the cool leather of the backseat. They were driving now and he held on to the seat for dear life with a deathlike grip, trying to keep himself steady, every bump and turn making his stomach churn. It took everything he had to make sure he didn’t throw up all over the Nick’s brand new car. Not that there was anything left to throw up anyway.  

Funny, how he recognized the car, but not the people in the front seats.

Hold on a second.

Nick’s car. No one was to drive Nick’s car, but Nick himself. So that automatically made the person driving Nick, didn’t it? Yes, it did, he decided when he took another good, long look at the back of the driver. It began to take on a somewhat familiar form and Brian sighed, relieved. He felt his heart rate slow down when he recalled that he’d known Nick for more than 22 years and that he trusted him with his life.  He really needed to stop the car now though.

He groaned miserably when he felt himself losing the battle against his stomach. He tried to warn Nick, but before he got the chance, his body started heaving. It didn’t even make sense. There was nothing left to throw up, only some foul-smelling bile, but apparently his body wouldn’t let that stop him from vomiting that all over the backseat. Fucking chemotherapy.

June 1997

“Dude, I’m bored,” Nick declared and he let himself sink next to his best friend on the sidewalk. The middle of June was hot and Brian could see the air vibrating in a distance. He had to fight the urge to take off the monkey suits they had been dressed in. He was sweating like a horse and it wasn’t even noon yet. There was no way of getting rid of the warmth in the leather jacket he was wearing and he was well aware of the fact that he was smelling worse than his great uncle Thomas. How terrific. Nick didn’t seem to mind that he was sitting next to a rotten eggs factory though, and looked at Brian expectantly.

“What?”

“What you wanna do? There’s still like two hours left before we have to start recording, you know,” Nick had a way of talking really fast whenever he had too much energy. Brian wondered where he’d gotten it from. He saw the light t-shirt the younger boy was wearing and felt jealous.

“Here,” he said, throwing the basketball they’d given him towards his brother. For some reason, Brian always ended up with a basketball from whoever thought he needed one. “Go nuts.”

“You’re not gonna play?”

“Hell no, it’s like ninety degrees out here and have you actually seen what I’m wearing?”

“Right, well, too bad for you!” the seventeen year old mocked and dribbled away. Brian watched him, envious. He wished he could play with him, but he knew he would probably pass out after five minutes. He was good at sports, but whenever the temperature rose above 85, he was done for. Why couldn’t he have been born with a normal heart?

“Hi, mind if I come sit next to you?” a sweet voice asked and without thinking, he indicated that it was okay.

“It sure is warm today,” the voice said and finally he looked up. Oh dear Lord. He felt a goofy smile forming on his face as he took in her long, blond hair, slim body and beautiful blue eyes. She smiled sweetly at him and extended her hand.

“Hi, my name’s Leighanne,” she introduced.

“I know,” Brian breathed, staring at her face. Don’t stare at her face! He shifted his gaze. Don’t stare at her breasts either! Well, she did have nice breasts. Looking at her face again, he saw her frown a little.

“Oh I mean, I wasn’t stalking you… God no… why would I do that?... I mean… it’s not that you’re not worth it or anything… it’s just… you… photo…” he stammered helplessly and felt his face slowly turn red, resembling somewhat of a tomato.

She smiled nicely at him, putting a hand on his knee. He tensed up when she came closer and her lips brushed against his ear. Motionless, he waited for her to do something.

“You’re cute,” she whispered and then turned away from him, just like nothing had happened. With open mouth, he watched her return to the other actresses, who had been watching from a distance and were now giggling and pointing at him. I feel like I’m sixteen, he thought, sitting up and straightening his jacket. He saw Nick, who had apparently also been watching, tramping towards him and the boy slapped him on the shoulder.

“And how he ever got Samantha Stonebreaker to go out with him, remains a mystery ‘til this day,” Nick declared seriously.

“Shut up Nick.”

October 2015

                His world was dark, but light stabbed his eyes. He couldn’t see anything beyond the blinding pain in his skull and willed the noises around him to quiet down. Someone was talking to him, but it seemed like the voice was coming from a far distance. It was smooth and calming though and it helped him settle down somewhat. He had no idea where he was or what had happened and he felt the familiar panic forming in his upset stomach. Maybe I’m home, he thought, but it didn’t smell like home.

                He winced when the stinking smell hit his nose, feeling a terrible sense of déjà vu overcome him. It surely wasn’t the first time for him to be lying in his own mess. He felt his stomach turn at the thought and instantly tried to push himself up, out of the nasty stuff. There was a hand on his chest though, pushing him back down. He wanted to tell the hand to cut it out, for didn’t it understand that lying in his own filth wasn’t his favourite occupation and that he needed to get out of it as soon as possible. The hand was awfully persistent though and Brian didn’t have the resources or strength to tell the hand to go away. The voice was back now too, and he figured it probably belonged to the hand, both right next to him. It was talking slow and softly to him and he realized it was trying to comfort him. He could only recognize one thing though.

                “Don’t move.”

                So he didn’t. He felt the cool hand touching his hot forehead and sighed in relief. Suddenly his head was lifted up and placed on a leg. The blood rushed through his ears and his head was spinning from the movement, but he had to admit that this was a much more comfortable position than the one he’d been in before. The voice was talking again, but this time it wasn’t directed at him.

“Harold, please hurry, he’s burning up!”

Harold. He felt like he knew someone named Harold, or should know someone named Harold anyway. But thinking about it made his head split in two, so he stopped doing it. Instead he tried to concentrate on the voice, that had turned to him once again.

“It’s alright, Bri, we’re almost there, hold on. You’re doing great, man, we’re almost home, okay?” the voice told him nervously and Brian finally found the strength to screw his eyes open.

“Nick? You doin’ here?” he rasped hoarsely. As far as he knew, Nick was in California.

He saw Nick’s sorrowful look and realized that he’d probably hurt the younger man. He couldn’t help it, the mist in his head clouding into area’s he’d never thought was possible. He felt himself slip into the welcoming darkness. No pain, no stench, no memories.