Ugly Memories
I fiddled with my keys in the darkened hallway. In my half-drunken state it seemed to take forever to fit it into the lock. Once inside, I shrugged off my coat and let it fall to the floor, not really caring where it landed. Fucking Brian, thinks he's so damn special with his coke and his women and that fawning bitch Shannon!
I'd prepared myself before going in, I ran the scene over in my head a million time, but nothing could ever have readied me for that. I had just wanted to drop the papers off and leave, but my mouth seemed to develop a life of it's own. Pain and anger can do that to a person.
I took off my heels, throwing them across the room. I turned around looking at all the useless shit filling the apartment. Brian hadn't even been here for months, but I still kept up everything he had bought for it. I looked at the walls, they were covered in pictures of him, which made me laugh. He filled my home with reminders of him while at the same time shutting me off from his life. Had he done it on purpose? Did he like to mock and torture me? Or had he never even stopped to think about what he was doing? Strangely, those questions applied to more than just the wall decorations.
I stumbled toward the bedroom, wanting nothing more than to just crawl into bed and forget this whole thing had ever happened. When I turned on the bedroom light I stopped in my tracks. "What the hell?"
"Hi, Mandy," Curt said, staring at the floor and clutching an almost gone bottle of whisky. He was seated in the big chair by the window, moonlight covering his pale, tear streaked face and giving him a ghost like glow. His eyes were bloodshot and his body was swaying gentley. It was obvious he was just as plastered as I was.
"How'd you get in here, Curt?"
"I have a key, remember?"
"Yeah, well I want it back. Get out, I don't want to have to look at you." My rage was rising again. How dare he be in my home without me! He just thought he could waltz all over my life, take whatever he wanted and not give a damn about my feelings.
"I need to talk to you Mandy."
"Well I have nothing I want to say to you! Why are you here Curt? You won, I'm gone, he's yours, all yours. If you can't make it work that's you're own bloody fault, don't come looking for me to help."
He let out a deep sigh and rubbed his eyes, moving slowly like he hadn't heard or didn't care when I told him to leave. "I'm sorry," he murmered, "I never meant for things to end up like this."
"Yeah, well neither did I," I said, crawling onto my bed and laying on top the sheets.
"Mandy," he said and then stopped. He acted like every word took all his strength to say. "I never meant to hurt you."
"Too late," I mumbled into my mattress. Never meant to hurt me? Yeah fucking right!
"I know what you must think of me right now. I never wanted any of this to happen. I just got so wrapped up in everything that all I could see was Brian, and I stopped thinking about anybody else. I didn't see what we were ding to you, I don't think he did either."
"Well it's done," I said softly, tears escaping the corners of my eyes. I buried my face in my hands, I didn't want him to see me like this. Weakness, all I seemed to be any more was weak. All my life I had been the strong one. Always in the spotlight, always the envy of many. Now, suddenly, I was reduced to a blubbering pile on top of a grand bed my husband had picked out but hadn't slept in for over five months. Even then, it hadn't been making love. It had been pity mixed with coked up desperation on a night when Curt had stormed away from him in a fit of rage.
I felt the bed move and Curt's hand on my shoulder. "We were friends once Mandy, weren't we? I remember us being close for a short time. At the beginning."
I took a deep breath and nodded, that was true. Back when he and Brian were still in the fun and games stage I had been part of many of their wild romps together. The three of us would sit up all night smoking and drinking. It had been wonderful. But then something changed. They fell into each other's eyes and couldn't see anyone else. After that, I was no more than an accessory. A pretty thing to curl up with on nights when they were apart or had an occasional need for me, but for the most part I had been demoted to the status of a groupie.
"It wasn't supposed to be this way. I just didn't realize..." his words trailed off and I looked up. He was covering his face with his hand, desperately trying to wipe away his tears. "It feels so bad that I've hurt you. You were never anything but nice to me, Mandy. I didn't know what I was doing. I'm fucked up. I can never think of anyone but myself."
"Oh Curt," I sat up and placed my hand on his cheek. He was so sincere. I felt a pang of regret for being so cold to him. I pushed his hand away and looked deep into his eyes. "Things just go wrong sometimes I guess. I liked to blame you, but I know that's not true. It's my fault, I just wasn't good enough for him..."
"No Mandy, you were everything to him. You were there from the beginning. You busted your ass to help him get where he is. He'd be nothing without you. I ruined it. If I had never come along the two of you..."
"Would be as miserable as ever. If it hadn't been you it would have been someone else."
"And now I'm out too," Curt said wistfully. "I guess maybe he just doesn't how to hang on to anyone." He stared at me for a moment. His eyes had a brief spark of sobriety before glassing over again. He swayed for a few seconds before leaning forward, falling on top of me really, and grabbing my lips in a desperate kiss.
I fell to the bed with him. For a moment my mind flashed no, that we shouldn't be doing this, but his touch on my much ignored skin made me lose all links to my rational mind. He was covering me, his hands tearing at my cloths, his lips pressing hard against me. We struggled out of our clothing frantically. Our arms wrapped around each other, holding tightly, not seeming to be able to get close enough. He entered into me, gentley at first, but soon our loving touches gave way to fevered thrusts. Sweat covered our bodies and seeped onto the bedspread Brian had bought in Amsterdam, it seemed almost like a part of him there with us.
I felt Curt's head land on my shoulder, his face buried in my neck, and I felt fresh tears springing from his eyes. Suddenly, I realized I was crying too. He gave a few more thrusts, soft sobs escaping his lips. I felt a climax build up, felt the wave start to spread over me, and felt Curt begin emptying himself inside of me.
"Brian," I wailed out mournfully.
"I love you," Curt cried, as if finishing my thought.
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I walked him to the door, wrapped in my purple bathrobe. He stumbled as he exited and dropped the pile of papers he was carrying, I stooped to help pick them up. "What's this?" I asked, reading from the paper, "Kiss me like theocean breeze?"
"It's a song," he said plainly. "Something I've been working on. There's a concert tomorrow night, Death of Glitter, have you heard of it?"
"Everyone in London has heard of it Curt."
He smiled, slightly embarrassed, "Yeah, I guess they have. Are you coming."
"No, I just wouldn't feel comfortable."
"Please come Mandy, I'd really like it if you were there. Promiss me you'll come."
"Alright Curt," I said passively.
"No, promiss me."
"I promiss." He gave me a chaste kiss on the cheek, holding his forhead to mine.
"Oh Mandy, how did this happen? Do you think there was a way, something we didn't do, that could have kept him ours?"
"He was never ours," I said. "We were always his."
He nodded and turned to leave. I watched as he slowly stumbled down the hall, the effects of the whisky still not out of his system.
We've seen each other since then, many times in fact, but that was the last time we were intimate. He's back in New York now, he comes to my show every week or two. He sits at a back table with a cloud of smoke surrounding him, a reminder of better times but also a painful memory of things gone wrong. Afterwards we talk, have a drink or two, all the things old friends do. Even as I was making my promiss to him, I still had no intentions of going to that concert. I just wanted to try and put the past behind me. I stayed home all night, tearing Brian's pictures off the wall and bagging up all of his belongings. As the night wore on, I felt a bit guilty for going back on my word. I made it there for the very end of his set, a touching number filled with pain. It was the most beautiful song I'd ever heard.
I try to put the past behind me, to focus more on the future, but my memories are strong and like to torment me. Sometimes, late at night when I've had too much to drink, I dig out that old album and let it play full volume. I think about Brian and Curt and the fun times we had together, just the three of us. And I think about the first time I met Brian, his golden curls framing his face like a halo in the light of the Sambraro as he took my hand and led me into a fantasy life I'd only ever dreamt of. "Gimme danger little stranger..."