Do You Remember? (George Michael x Andrew Ridgeley)

4 / 'Kissing A Fool'

*Above: Video - Kissing A Fool by George Michael, 1987*

Above: Picture - George Michael in 1989* 

Andrew

We landed in the middle of a beautifully-done, rustic room with natural light streaming in from huge windows that lined the walls. The dark-chestnut coloured hardwood flooring felt smooth beneath my feet as I took in every detail. Before either of us could utter a word, the realisation hit me: this was George's writing room. It was basically where he wrote his songs during his popularity peak in the 80's.

"What are we doing here?" I questioned, crossing my arms. 

"You are the most impatient man I have ever met! Just wait!" 23-year-old Yog shouted at me. He looked cute when he was angry -- Ugh stop Andy, stop!

We had a stare-off until a distraught 26-year-old Yog walked into the room silently. Worry lines were beginning to be carved into his forehead, the dark bags under his eyes hollowing out the rest of his tired face. He looked terribly exhausted, not the exhilarating man the public painted him to be.

I stood up and followed him to his desk, knowing he couldn't see me and 23-year-old Yog. He got out his notebook in which he wrote his songs and flipped to a page near the back. I didn't want to intrude on his privacy or anything, but I peeked over his broad shoulders to see what was on the page:

My Dearest, Andy,

I love you.

My heart stopped beating. I couldn't believe what I was witnessing!

"What the -" I began, but 23-year-old Yog put a cold finger to my lips.

"Shhh..." He whispered, "Wait. You'll see."

I watched 26-year-old Yog hold his pen to the paper, unable to write any further. Grunting in irritation, he ripped the page out and crumbled it in a ball. He began to write a new letter:

My Dearest, Andy,

I'm dreadfully sorry I haven't attempted to contact you for ages now. I've been busy with the Faith tour and everything. I just wanted to let you know -

He slammed his fists against the desk and threw the notebook across the room. At that, I longed to hug him right then and there but I couldn't. Damnit. 

I thought he was laughing silently at his failed attempts to draft a letter, but he was inaudibly crying. Tears cascaded down his angelic face, his hands shielding his eyes. After a minute or two sobs escaped his throat, and soon he was gasping for air. Snot covered his flushed cheeks and nose -- all in all he still looked deliciously handsome.

When he calmed himself down a bit, eyes still red and puffy, he walked out of the room. We followed behind him like baby ducks followed after their mother, obediently and quickly. Approaching a doorway, he unlocked the door and went in. 

In horror, we watched him remove a glistening blade from his nightstand drawer.

"W...what is he going to do?" I asked no one in particular. "Oh God, please don't tell me..."

23-year-old Yog answered my question. "He is. I'm sorry Andy."

I clenched my hands in tight fists and stopped breathing the second he swiped it across his scarred wrist, blood pouring out. How long had he been doing this? How had I been so oblivious?

I couldn't bear to see any more of his self destruction. "TAKE ME BACK RIGHT NOW!" I screeched in utter shock, my stomach nauseous at the sight of Yog cutting himself.

The sobs came to a halt. Opening my eyes, I realised everything had flashed white. 23-year-old Yog stood with his arms open, waiting for a hug. I couldn't resist him any longer. I willing ran into them, the warmth enveloping me. 

George

Maybe I shouldn't have shown Andy when I cut myself? Was that too much? I mean, he was breathing pretty heavily and also clearly panic stricken. To halt his emotions from overwhelming him, I tilted his head up with my thumb to look into his gorgeous dark brown eyes. 

"It's okay." I reassured, putting a note of comfort in my voice. He shook his head, avoiding my gaze.

"No. No, it's not okay. I didn't know he fucking self harmed!" He whisper-shouted in my ear. 

"Well ... he overdosed on drugs. Isn't that self harm too? Cutting is a release just like drugs, it helped me - him cope with his almost unbearable level of stress." I tried to explain, lost in his stunning eyes. He went limp in my arms but jerked away suddenly.

"I just ... I never noticed. I never noticed and stopped him and damnit, WHY DIDN'T I NOTICE?!" Andy screeched in terror. I snatched his hands and held them forcefully. 

"It's. Not. Your. Fault." I mumbled under my breath, twisting my lips into a smile. "Nothing's your fault, darling."

His eyes bugged out, a smile dancing on his thin lips. He replied: "I wouldn't say nothing." The sad part was, I could feel his boundless guilt seeping into my brain, crawling into my blood. Just that made me slightly saddened, as to make him even more guilty was not my objective. 

"Nothing." I repeated, stroking his wrinkled cheeks with my soft hands. 

"You're supposedly 23, and I'm what -- 53? That's a goddamn 30 year difference!" He paused, letting his fact sink in, "I'm not being seduced by you George Freaking Michael!"

"What if you weren't 53? What if I made you 23?" I offered shyly. 

"I'd still feel like a 53-year-old inside, Yog."

"I feel 53 inside too Andy."

"But ..."

"Cmon'! Just try it? For me? I want to make passionate love to you Andrew Ridgeley."

"Thought you said there was nothing more likely Mr. Michael."

"Oh there isn't, but you know what - I said it was unlikely but not impossible."

"So I'm supposed to say yes, morph into a 23-year-old version of myself, and have sex with a figment of my imagination?"

"Basically, yes."

He pursed his lips in a 'No'. "I don't feel like kissing a fool today, dear Yog."

"Ugh. Andy. I will break into song, don't doubt me."

"Please no -"

"You are far, when I could have been your star. You listened to people, who scared you to death and from my heart. Strange that you were strong enough to even make a start, but you'll never find peace of mind, til you listen to your heart. People, you can never change the way they feel. Better let them do just what they will, for they will, if you let them steal your heart from you. People, will always make a lover feel a fool, but you knew I loved you. We could have shown them all ... We should have seen love through," I belted as loud as I could. Andy was dying of laughter, his face pink and eyes twinkling. So he did recognise Kissing A Fool, my 1987 hit song? For some reason this made me ecstatic. 

"Shut up already! I get it! Okay, fine, yes, my answer is yes. Are you happy now?!" He complained, although thoroughly amused with my efforts. 

"Yep," I answered, glad to see his beautiful smile once more.