Into the Light

2. Get Off of My Cloud

Where the hell am I?

I'm pretty sure I've never seen this room in my life. At least not the ceiling. There's a round ornament, a rosette around the lamp that's hanging in the middle. It's white, a plaster relief with numerous tiny details, a kaleidoscope of shadows and light.

And it's moving, going round and round, slowly, a bit jerkily, then the whole thing begins to veer downwards and to my left. I'm slipping, going over the edge, I try to claw a hold but my hands only sink into something that's soft and very smooth. I close my eyes, and after a while the merry-go-round slows down a little.

Duvet. I'm clutching a down-filled duvet. So soft, like I were floating in the middle of a summer cloud, or so the poets say. I think. I've never tried. Thaidan did try, it was late in the evening and the sun was setting behind billowing masses of clouds. They were like a rumpled bed with glorious purple linen, as we looked at them from the roof terrace of Hotel Palace's banquet apartment.

He said he wanted to feel what it's like. I remember it. We laughed, all of us, but then I thought they didn't look comfy. Not inviting, I said, though of course he tried to argue otherwise. But I didn't think it was fun, and I told Chaim that I didn't want to go with them, him and Thaidan. So he said he wouldn't leave me there unsupervised, he said all the girls had this predatory look as they were eyeing me, and he was sure they'd rip me apart. And he wrapped his arms around me and glared at them, and...

Then? What happened then?

It was cold, we were outside and Chaim's arm was around my shoulders, he was crying and throwing up, and I could still see the goddamn blood all over. And now I need to throw up, there's so much blood and the room is reeling again around me. Why am I thinking about it?

Maybe if I keep my eyes closed, maybe I'll manage to get to the bathroom. It's the door on my right, I saw it a moment ago. I have to get there. I'm cold, this fucking wetness all over must be sweat, I'm drenched and afraid to look. Afraid that, if I look, I'll see red. No, no blood, please, not blood. But why are my hands so slippery?

I'm standing. I think I am. Bedpost. Chair. Doorframe. But now I'm sitting on the floor. I wish I knew how I ended up here, or down here, whatever. My head's spinning, or is it the room? This is the wrong door anyway. This door opens to the corridor, because I can hear voices speaking behind it. I don't think there's anybody in the bathroom. Shouldn't be, in any case.

Chaim's voice. It's so soft, always. Why do people say 'velvety' when they mean something soft? Velvet is not soft, not like that. His voice is not velvety. It's like water. When standing on the Jubilee Bridge in the night, when the sun has set and it's dark, just the lights of the city glowing here and there. Looking down into the river that flows underneath. The surface is smooth, it lives, it moves. So soft, so dark. Can't help wondering what it would feel like to fall in. Well, I'm not sure it would feel like listening to Chaim's voice in the dark. Not as good.

I'm so fucking thirsty that I can't make a sound. Must rest a moment, then I'll go to the bathroom, or maybe back to bed. Right now I want to listen to him.

"Aren't you going to your lessons?"

"I cancelled." Who the fuck is that young voice? With that strange lilt to his words? "Didn't feel like singing today."

"I see." Chaim, I don't bloody well see. "Well, you really shouldn't let this get to you too much."

"Too much? How can I not to?" Whoever the Young One is, he's pretty pissed off right now.

"Kim, didn't we talk this over? This has nothing to do with us."

Oh. Yes. The toyboy. 'His name is Kim', said Chaim. So the Young One is Kim the toyboy. What has nothing to do with 'us'?

"Chaim, I just don't trust him! Of course you do what you want, but don't ask me to like it!"

"I'm not asking you to. But still I think you're overdoing it a bit. At the moment he's not in any condition to do anything."

"Are you so sure? Because I'm not! I don't think he can ever be drunk or ill or drugged enough not to be scheming to get you back! Besides, now he can play the pity card. You feel rather sorry for him already."

"Kim - do you really trust me so little? That you can't leave me in the same apartment with a sleeping Toni for a few hours?"

Oh. Oh. They're talking about me. My head stops whirling for a moment. Kim the toyboy is jealous - unsure - afraid of me? Ah, and right you are.

"I do trust you, Chaim." The voice goes softer, I have to strain my ears to hear. "I believe you when you say that you love me. It's just that..."

"What?" Oh Chaim, you shouldn't be using that tone on anyone else but me.

"No matter what a creep he is, you've known each other for such a long time. And you said yourself that you care for him. And he's -"

Now I'm slumped against the door, pressing my ear to the crack.

"He's someone from your own league. From a good family, rich, handsome, well educated..."

"Kim." Damn it, I can't hear no matter how hard I try. I want to bang my fist on the floor but my arm just rises a bit and then falls again in my lap. I taste something bitter on the back of my tongue, try to swallow it but can't. My head is so fucking heavy again.

A step closer. I struggle to get up, but my limbs just refuse to cooperate. Too fucking shameful to be found on the floor. But nobody comes in, Chaim is still talking to Kim the toyboy right outside the door. "Just relax, love. You've got nothing to worry about. It's just - well, if one of your brothers appeared here, at our door, needing help, wouldn't you help him?"

"Of course I would." Toyboy sounds outraged. Funny.

"There. And you've got several brothers. I have none but Toni - all right, he's not really my brother, but no matter how obnoxious he may be, that's how I feel about him. He needs help, I'm going to help him."

"He doesn't agree with you." Well no shit, toyboy. You're not stupid, must give you that much.

"No, but he needs it anyway."

Right now I wouldn't mind some help getting up. But I'll be damned if I let Kim the toyboy see me crawling here. Got to get to the bathroom, before this fucking room decides to go crazy once more. Why the fuck aren't my legs working? Or is it my head?