My Universe - Per Yngve Ohlin

Red Paint

I sit down at the table next door, still secretly looking in the direction of the band. When I look away again, the room seems to become foggy, the walls sway slightly and I notice air building up in my chest, I belch. A quiet giggle escapes the black-haired man. For no reason I get up in the moment, when if not now. I've already drawn attention to myself, I remain in my position for a moment and then approach the group, stand in front of them and clear my throat. All three people stare at me expectantly, meanwhile the blonde continues to stare at his arms. "Hello." If they haven't noticed how wasted I am by now, they certainly do now. After they didn't return my greeting I continue "I saw your performance. to be honest i'm drunk as fuck, but your show was decent." the short dude laughs, "Hello, I'm Euronymous." I wander my eyes to the other two people, who I haven't really been interested in until now. "My name is Jørn, also Necrobutcher", says the brunette man. "Jan, Hellhammer" replies the other member whilst pushing his curls to the side. You look expectantly at the fourth. "I'm Per but you can call me Dead", he says without looking up.

Dead. I look at him and admire his long, tousled hair. He is beautiful but to me there seems to be so much more to him than his broken look. "Cool. I'm decomposing", don't know if the alcohol is playing these puns with me or if I want to impress anyone but Euronymous starts laughing again. "Sit down. Do you want a beer?" I won't refuse this time. "Sure."

Necrobutcher and Hellhammer continue with their conversation, Euronymous busy himself emptying his beer sip by sip. I watch him as the glass bottle loses its liquid until at some point nothing but a few drops stick to the bottom. Without realizing it, I seem to lose my focus on it, my vision getting blurry again, starting to lose detachment from reality, therefore not recognizing Euronymous voice. As he then waves his hand in front of my face I slowly disappear from my state. "Mmh" I answer without even knowing what he had said "You kind of left for a short time, you know. How much did you drink?", he slightly smirks. "Reminds me of Pelle," says Necrobutcher. "My name is Dead," the blonde hisses. His gaze turns away from his arms and meets mine. For a brief moment my heart begins to pound, everything goes blank and
I only have this ice-cold blue look in front of me. Dead seems to feel the same way as he doesn't let his gaze deviate from mine. Oh, how much I wish to always lose myself like this, in someone else's eyes instead of in the emptiness of myself. I slowly notice the looks that weigh on me. The other members seem to have noticed our strange eye contact. "Well, what was your question Euronymous?", I ask. "I wanted to know if you would like to come with me. I can show you where we live. It's nothing special but cool to hangout." I have no idea how I got his trust so quickly, as he doesn't seem like someone who wants to have every other person around him but I took an interest in the band. Even if I just wanted to go home and take a break from all the people, I was fascinated by Dead. I needed to get to know him.

Even though I could somehow distract myself by listening to the three having their conversation, I couldn't hesitate to wander off in my thoughts again. I turn around and look outside. It was already so dark that you could only see the outlines of the street and the buildings opposite. Studying the outline of the club I was remembering Pelle sliding the knife down his arm. The fresh blood streaming out of his skin and spreading all over his body down to the stage floor. No one does that just for show. I look at my arms covered with fabric and stretch them out. As if my clothes were transparent, I see all the purple scars rising and all the memories I associate with them.

Suddenly I hear someone calling my somehow new nickname and startle "Do you want to eat something with us?", Necrobutcher asks and I shake my head. I turn back to the band and look at the fresh fries. My stomach starts rumbling all of a sudden. Damn it, shut the fuck up. I feel Pelle's eyes on me, wandering down my arms. As I look up, his head turns away. "So...", Hellhammer pauses. "Do you play any instruments?" I nod "Yeah, I can play e-guitar, but mostly just for myself. I've never had anyone listen." Euronymous swallows. "You could play one of our songs and we'll rate you", he laughs.
To be honest the thought of playing one of his written songs on guitar in front of Dead makes me dizzy, since i'm not even aware if i'm playing properly. On the other hand I could leave a good impression. "Sure"

I notice that the fog in my head slowly clearing up, as I look at the clock it's showing 11pm, my eyes feel heavier and heavier, also from the intoxication that I would prefer to enjoy with a lie-in. I lean on my arm and close my eyes. In my mind I'm home, sitting on my bed, huddled with a blade in my hand and a smile on my face. The cold metal penetrates through my skin and squeezes the blood out of the sides, the fat that splits and the lingering smell of dead that settles in my nose. I want to go home. Doing what I'm used to, nothing, instead of torturing myself through the conversations that won't lead to anything anyway.