bed of nails

Chapter 04

Till was sitting in the deserted kitchen and staring blankly at his glass of vodka. It was barely 12 a.m. and he was already drinking but fuck it, he really had a reason for that. Good reason. Great part of his world was just turned upside down and he felt too dizzy to recognize directions again. What had happened in the bathroom was shocking, unexpected, bizarre. Surrealistic.

The kiss had been desperate, quick and shallow, but not unnoticed. Cold vodka calmed him down a bit, but also washed away the flavor. Hint of cigarettes, a bit of a toothpaste, some sweet accent and fleshy hotness. What in Lord's sake? Should the kiss be treated like a distraction or something serious? How come it could ever be serious? Why would Richard ever feel something more than brotherly connection and manly friendship? He finished the glass with only one sip and shook like a dog out of water. Strong shit, indeed.

Richard definitely was somewhere else, since he was nowhere in the bus. Till wasn't sure if he was ready for the confrontation, after that experience, but he also knew they were short of time- in few hours, they had to be in the city, start preparing the stage and perform a concert tonight. Usual, perfect, outraging, dark, aggressive masterpiece of live performance their fans expected. Yet, it'd be impossible if there was an awkward silence between two main figures of the band, unspoken explanation and ridiculous secrets.

"I'm not sure if it's appropriate to ask" Till almost fell off the chair, when Flake's voice interrupted his train of thoughts
Keyboardist was eyeing him calmly, yet with a hint of strong judgment, which wasn't surprising.
"And I'm not sure I'd be able to answer" he replied grimly
Since it was Flake, who served as an object of Till's affections recently, this situation was only more awkward. And complicated. Till sighed heavily and poured himself another glass of vodka, looking at it as if he was considering drowning himself in it. That'd be way more comfortable that way.

Richard finished his third cigarette and barely stopped himself from lighting up the fourth one. He was already smoking too much and now he was breaking his own record. He also nearly finished the first bottle of beer and his shaking mind turned into shaking vision. He actually had empty stomach so getting drunk soon was highly probable.

"Reesh, just don't get scared"
As it was easy to predict, he probably had never been scared more in his life. He nearly spilt the rest of the beer all over, burn himself with the cigarette and slide off the table he was sitting.
"Fuck it, Landers, I told you to stop sneaking on me like that!" he growled furiously, his words slightly blurry
"I don't sneak. You're the one who never watches out" second guitarist sat right next to Richard without invitation "What are you doing here?"
"Just...chilling. Fresh air and shit"
"Yea, fresh air" Paul muttered ironically, eyeing the cigarette butts and empty bottle "You wish you were as good liar as good guitarist you are, don't you?"
"I only wish to be left alone now"

"No. I'm not going to leave you here like this. I know something is wrong. I was in the bus and saw Till in the kitchen. He looked like he suffered from a hybrid of hangover and brain excision. Flake agreed to check on him and I went to look for you, man. What's wrong?"
"Nothing"
"Yea, and you sit here like beaten puppy, getting drunk and feeding your future lung cancer, for hobby?"
"...Yes"
Paul rolled his eyes and growled, losing his goofy attitude.
"I swear, Kruspe, I sometimes feel a wild urge to smack you in the head with something heavy!"
"Do it. I will be grateful for the lifetime" Richard's voice was mechanical and tired, and he really seemed totally indifferent to his own life

Paul grabbed his head aggressively and made him look. Richard obeyed like a boneless puppet.
"Look at me, Richard, and pull yourself together. What happened? What's wrong?"
"I did something stupid, that's all. Really stupid. I behaved like a brat. End of the story"
Even during Live Aus Berlin, while wearing ice-cold contacts, his eyes hadn't been as dead and dolly as now, and that really scared Paul. His friend and bandmate was totally devastated and stubbornly refused to explain why.
"Richard" he moved hands on Richard's shoulders and shook him "Focus. Please, tell me."
"Please, Paul, let it go. I don't feel like sharing now. I need to be alone and get together."
"Out of question, we...!"
"Please"