Nicholas Zellner

 Partner of Marcus Weidenbruch. Very talented painter and graduate of the
academy of arts. Prolonged his study to get the master degree.
Currently he does a practical course at the Apollo-Theatre as scenery painter.

Marcus Weidenbruch

 One of the richest men in Berlin. Art collector and dealer.
Owns an antiques shop and a working shop with lots of employees.
Organizes painting exhibitions.

Sebastian von Scheffel

 Lives and works in Rome. Leader of the excavation team at the
Forum Romanum. Best and oldest friend of Marcus Weidenbruch. Had a
one night stand with Nicholas two years ago.

Kay Langenbach

 Famous model for underwear and other smart gear. His time-consuming
job makes him ill and anorexic. Partner of Sebastian.

Tim Wendlandt

 Author of a novel that has been published recently.
Works at the gay/lesbian bookshop Prinz Eisenherz and is responsible for the
internet-appearance as well as new published books and the catalogue of books.

Maxim Sageroff

 Partner of Tim. Russian descent. Works also at Prinz Eisenherz.
Suffers still from the life-threatening events with his late ex-partner Christian.
About to move into a bigger flat with Tim.

Tobias & Moritz

Tim Wendlandt's "parents". Moritz is his real father.
Tobias and Moritz married some months ago. Owner of a costume rental. Tobias
will get an engagement at the newly opened nightclub Stardust to design the
costumes.

Yassin

Moroccan descent. Painter in a painter's brigade. Spare time call boy. Keen on
drugs. Gets an engagement at the nightclub Stardust and joins the porn-industry.

Jan

THE cock of the walk. Works actually in mother's flower shop.
Otherwise in the Apollo-theatre, currently as "Hamlet". Jan and Yassin are
occasionally fuck buddies.

Oliver

 Jan's fellow occupant. "Straight" graduate of an actor-school
and company member of the Apollo-theatre.

Oswald von Wolkenstein

 Owner of the Apollo-theatre. Struggles for real art, but
misses good actors. Demands sex in return of favours.

Don(ald) Kowalsky

 King of the underworld in Cologne. Opened the nightclub Stardust in Berlin.
Producer of porn in the backrooms.

Denis

 Don's personal boy at Stardust.

Adam

 young Pole, fled from his parents from Görlitz to Berlin. Found by Tobias and Moritz
in the bar Made in Heaven at New Year's Eve and lives now in their house.
Studies theory of drama. Falls in love with Jan.




Prologue

Approaching Berlin - since 1990 again the capital of the reunited Germany. He leaned closer to the small window of the private airplane. He couldn't fly a plane nor would he like to; it would have taken him from sipping at his glass of champagne. Silently he made a toast. Back to his roots. Leaving Cologne behind, the town in the West, the place that had started to affect him with its suffocating narrowness. His bars in the gay district were running well. Time to set off for new shores.

The machine made a wide arc over the town. The weather was hazy, cold and wet. A winter, usual in the north of Germany, besides a few one-offs. The sprawling forest was bare, brown and grey; the rivers Havel and Spree sparkled murky in the pale light. They enlarged to a number of many small and large lakes. Bizarre castles, reminiscent of Italy, towers and parks were strewn into the landscape. In summer it was paradise.

But that was not the reason he was here. He leaned back and poured another glass. Berlin was the metropolis of future. A place where anything was possible and everything happened. A town with the very special something else. A town of contrasts. Elegant boulevards and alternative scenes. Regal palaces and the shot facades of tenement blocks. Hot nightlife and a pure idyll. Nobel villas and streetwalking. A town between the glaring sunshine in Summer and a dreary greyness in Winter.

He had seldom been there, despite the fact he had been born here in the borough of Kreuzberg, but West-Berlin had become too tight for his love of liberty. He had hit his forehead until bloody against the wall. The West sector had been encircled by the GDR, the communist part of Germany. If one wanted to avoid long and intensive border controls, one could only fly to reach the country that belonged to the town. West-Berlin had been an island.

He remembered the gruff charm of the inhabitants. It wasn't easy to get along with them. Either they were fairly bad-tempered or ebullient in temperament. Berlin had no overtones; there was only black or white, it was good or bad, there was nothing in between, and it was genuine. Berlin was a legend. Hard to take, hard to live in. Unique. But a worthwhile place.

Far down the striking green cupola of Castle Charlottenburg appeared. Italian Baroque built for King Friedrich of Prussia and his wife. There had once been the Amber Room - the eighth world wonder. Don wished he had seen it just for once in his life, but its exact fate remained a mystery to this day, and the search for it has been one of the greatest treasure hunts of all time.

Really it had been a good idea of Fischer to provide him with the guide Don had read attentively from cover to cover although it would most likely be out of date next month. Berlin was in constant change. The construction sites of today were the attractions of tomorrow. Who couldn't keep abreast, was mercilessly cast out. So it had been forever and it would always be. Don felt his heart beating faster. Berlin was on that certain power point and anything goes.

Leaving the countryside park behind, the covered oval of the Olympic stadium appeared with its beautiful blue Tartan track, built under Adolf Hitler for the Olympic Games in 1936. Red, long lengths of material with the Swastika-Emblem had fallen from the tribunes. Jesse Owens won four gold medals. Black power against white Arian arrogance.

In March 1945 thousands of young members of the Hitler-Youth found their death as part of the Volkssturm when they were used as a final reserve by mad leaders to fight against the heavy armed Russian tank troops to free the Olympic stadium that had already been captured. Senseless acts in the final days of war that cost thousands of victims in a town where the walls of the houses were riddled with the holes left by the machine guns of the Russian Army und thus had been almost erased to the foundation walls. Don's father had been among them. Over and gone.

In the distance the radio mast and TV-tower blurred in rain-heavy air; the latter standing in the East-sector of the once separated town. The wall had been an open wound across the town, parting families and parting friends who wouldn't see each other anymore for a long, long time. Sometimes never. But nonetheless. The town had survived. Those who had gone through all this were stronger than before.

The airplane took a bow and almost scratched the roofs of the houses in the approach to Tempelhof airport that was amidst the town. An airstrip for the allies of the Second World War and where the so-called Raisin-Bombers had landed with their grocery cargo for the besieged West-Berlin of the fifties.

The red route lights of the landing path shone pale upon the roofs. The machine sank. In the West was his aim, among the streets where he had been born; his newly opened nightclub "Stardust". A temple of gay desires. He pulled on his heavy coat and on his face was a gloomy, yet excited smile.

Part 1: Christmas Gathering

[...]

Jan had endured a run in with Oswald because he had forgotten his lines. Disgruntled he sat on the dusty planks of the stage and watched Nicholas painting. He surely didn't know what eye colour a raven had. Anyway. Nicholas had used a mixture of yellow and silver that gave the impression of moonlight reflecting in the bird's eyes. Why Nicholas took so much trouble for such a small theatre... Jan sighed and cupped his chin in his palm. On Saturday night he had gone to the bar "Made in Heaven" in case Yassin was there, but he hadn't been. He was in none of the bars and dance clubs that Jan had checked. Sure enough he couldn't admit to himself that he was searching for Yassin. No. Jan wouldn't do such a ludicrous thing. Jan was the super stud everybody was crazy for. Except Nicholas didn't seem to notice him. "Do you think Oswald will give me the sack?" he asked.

Nicholas peered over his shoulder. "The sack? Why should he?"

"Because I fucked up! I can't even memorize a simple verse today!" Jan jumped down from the stage and sat beside the canvas leaning against the wall.

"You didn't fuck up. You're always doing well, it's just Oswald who can't decide what he wants. And you're ... scatty today. Had a hot night last night?"

"Sure. I always have hot nights."

Nicholas tried to hide his grin.

"Stop grinning, man", Jan snapped. "You're just immune against my sex appeal." He crawled closer until he sat beside Nicholas. " You've been married for too long. How old are you actually? Twenty three? You can't take a vow of chastity for the rest of your life, can you? I mean, come on! You never tell me about your boyfriend, but I know he's rich. That's the reason you're with him? Like me and Oswald?"

Nicholas painted a line wrong and cursed. Hastily he smeared it with a cloth. "What are you talking for shit?" he snapped and glared at Jan. "Just because you jump from bed to bed doesn't mean the world has to do the same. When was your last test?"

"Test?"

"There you are. You don't even know what I mean." Nicholas thought about Simon, Kay's brother. Simon had been HIV-positive for four years now. Luckily he was relatively well because the treatment of a new developed medication had been started early. In the meantime Simon engaged himself in AIDS-self-help groups, in hospitals and homes for the sick. It was a miserable subject to think about but it belonged to his daily life. A subject Jan didn't seem to have a clue about.

"You mean the disease?" Jan said. "Pah. The new pills seem to work wonders. Nobody has to die of AIDS."

Nicholas almost dropped his paint brush and turned fully to Jan. "You're so stupid, man. AIDS is incurable, damn it. You're gonna die, it's just a matter when."

"There you are. I'm alright with dying when I'm eighty."

Nicholas rolled his eyes and decided to stop this brainless talk. He had thought that Jan would have had more nous in his brain. "Whatever", he sighed and returned to his painting.

Jan remained sitting next to him and said nothing for a while. "Everybody's doing it", he said then. "Condoms are so crappy. It's much more fun without."

Nicholas didn't answer.

"What are you doing for Christmas? Big party?" Jan asked.

"What does it bother you? I'm with my rich, old man", Nicholas said with a voice like acid. "You will be sure to fuck Berlin's whole gay community, am I right? Without a condom."

Jan jumped to his feet and climbed the small staircase up to the stage where he vanished behind the blue curtain.

"Idiot", Nicholas mumbled.


In the afternoon Marcus bumped into a short, round guy as he went to enter the Adonis theatre. Nicki had said he preferred it that he didn't show up there, but Marcus had something to do near by and wanted to pick him up.

The baby-blue eyes of the short man fastened on Marcus' face before his eyes climbed down over Marcus' woollen coat covered chest, the broad shoulders and came to a halt at Marcus' groin before they scurried back to his face. Marcus stepped back as if he had been physically abused. This could only be Oswald.

"Oswald von Wolkenstein." A dumpy hand was outstretched and Marcus squeezed the slightly sweaty palm.

"Marcus Weidenbruch."

Oswald pulled out a linen handkerchief and briefly wiped over his forehead. "Marcus Weidenbruch! I know you of course. The pride and joy of our town."

Marcus wrinkled his brows.

"I mean, Berlin must be glad to have such a famous man among its citizens."

"I'm not sure what you mean", Marcus said, trying to peer over Oswald's shoulder to find Nicholas. "Actually I'm here to pick up somebody. Nicholas here?"

"Nicholas? Our Nicholas?" Oswald tapped from one foot to the other. Marcus saw that his brain was working faster than a computer, adding two and two together. Sorry, Nicki, he said to himself, your camouflage has been lifted. He felt Oswald took a friendly grasp of his arm to walk with him through the entrance of the auditorium. "You know, Marcus, the thing is this", Oswald started somewhat stiffly and Marcus had to bend down to understand his words. "You see this theatre is small and just at the start of getting famous. So to say. I engaged a bunch of promising young actors and focus on the old traditional way of theatre-playing if you know what I mean."

"Traditional way?" Marcus repeated. "You mean the plays are as they were meant to be performed, right? No Tosca in jeans or Tamino with a leather-whip?" Or the scandal of the pretty obnoxious theatre-play of that Spanish director who had recently shocked the Berlin audience with completely naked actors, copulating and raping women on the open stage as a metaphor of the raping of the planet earth by mankind. Marcus shuddered and listened more interested now.

"You say it", Oswald continued. "I want the things to be as they were planned. No Wagner's grandson and Harry Kupfer with his impossible modern productions of the Ring of the Nibelungs. I dream of the original stuff with original costumes and settings. Thus I search for talented new actors who can play the roles without that appalling modern crap, you know." Oswald wiped over his forehead and looked up to Marcus.

Marcus nodded. He understood Oswald indeed all too well. Whenever he wanted to see an opera he needed to fly to Milano's Scala or New York's Met, or even to Venice's Fenice to see the stuff as it was written. In Berlin it was impossible, despite the fact that the town had three opera houses. "And you.... perform what right now?" he asked.

"Hamlet."

"Yes. Nicki told me so. He's painting the settings. Um, Oswald, my time is limited and I wanted to pick up Nicholas. It was nice to talk with you about the good old times." Marcus freed himself from Oswald's grip.

"But... I thought you as a man with savoir-faire would understand my request." Oswald looked uncertainly.

"And that would be?"

"Well, you and I love the same things. So, as I said, this theatre is small and the grant from the senate has been cancelled. You said Nicholas is your ... acquaintance?"

Marcus' lips curled. "I'll think about it." He entered the auditorium and found Nicholas still absorbed in his painting. The canvas was huge and Marcus was impressed. He hadn't realised that he had to fill such a large setting all alone. He stood silently for a while and watched his lover. He saw a graveyard which was gloomily illuminated by an almost full moon, spreading its silvery light over half-sunken gravestones with blurred inscriptions, moss-covered and wet from dew and slimy worms. An open grave was on the right side; the grey-green, heavy earth was towering to one side in which a shovel was stuck. On a fence in the background sat a anthracite-coloured raven with silver-yellow eyes, peering nastily at the audience.

"Brilliant", he said. "Finished?"

Nicholas turned and grinned. "Hey. I didn't know you were picking me up."

"And I didn't know you had to do this all alone."

"He's pretty good, isn't he?" Oswald had sneaked up on silent feet and stood behind Marcus. "The academy hasn't promised too much. Some of the students were recruited right from the academy as soon as they finished their study. I guess I'll keep him. The next thing is for him to learn about the costumes."

Marcus frowned. He didn't like the way Oswald occupied Nicholas' future plans. At least he still had one year before his education was finished and he would surely find better places than this ... theatre.

"I wonder if this isn't a bit too much for one man alone", Marcus said. "Do you have others?"

"Sure, Oliver, an actor-student in his third year. And Jan, a promising new star who plays the leading role."

"I know." Marcus got impatient. "I meant somebody to help painting the scenes and sewing the costumes." Nicholas wiped his fingers with benzene and cleaned the paint brushes. "I've finished for today. Can I go now?" he asked.

Oswald waved with his hand. "And you'll think about my offer?" he said to Marcus, eyeing him now openly lecherous. "I didn't know that you and he... I mean that you was Nicholas' great unknown."

Marcus rolled his eyes inwardly but kept his countenance. "Now you know. Yes, I'll think about MY offer then."


"What an obnoxious guy", Marcus said when they stepped into his black Mercedes. "You will surely find something better than this after you finish your masters degree."

"Like what?"

"Oswald's right. Good art students are engaged right from the start by banks and groups to decorate their buildings and company headquarters. Some of my business partners have already asked me to get you to decorate their homes."

"I'm not keen on modern art", Nicholas said.

"Right. Like some of them aren't keen on modern art." He started the car towards home. "But some are. Elli for instance wants to sign you as copyist."

"Elli? Oh no, not that again. I was already fed up with her when I had to paint her portrait. She was after me, have you forgotten?"

Marcus chuckled. "No, I haven't forgotten. She's consoled herself with a new Yorkshire terrier."

Nicholas burst out in laughter. "What a horrid thought. Poor dog. But tell me, what does she want me to copy?"

"She's keen on Canaletto for instance."

"Canaletto? Who on earth would be able to copy Canaletto! The Dresden-paintings or the Venice-paintings?"

"Venice of course."

"I've never been to Venice."

"I know." Marcus grinned insidiously. "I'm sure she just wants the impression of a Canaletto, not an exact copy."

"You mean just some canals and bridges and gondolas?"

Marcus nodded. It had stopped raining and was becoming colder. If he wasn't mistaken he had smelt snow in the air. Perhaps they would get a white Christmas this year.

"The painters were on time today", he then said. "They even got the right mixture of blue for you."

"Indigo and light blue?"

Marcus nodded. The company was the same that had painted the living room some months ago. Since they were pretty efficient and clean Marcus had decided to book them again. Despite the plague of Yassin, who was much too sexy and knew about that too well. Marcus grinned to himself. At least he was nice to watch in the middle of the turmoil.

When he entered the drive to his house they saw Kay and Sebastian struggling with a large tree squeezing it through the entrance door. "Gosh, what have they bought?" Marcus said and Nicholas laughed. Probably this would be as fun as the year before.

"Crap, my gloves are full of resin", Kay said, eyeing his white leather gloves. He pulled them off and threw them on the ground. "I said you shouldn't dress to kill, sweetie", Sebastian said. They had placed the fir on the floor of the hall and examined its length. "It's much too large", Kay said finally. "We'll have to saw a bit of it off."

Sebastian sighed. "Have you ever chopped anything? Let me do it, I'm the practical one of us two."

Nicholas listened amused at the bickering. Sebastian was the leader of the excavation group in Rome, so he did know what to do with his hands.

"OK, do you have a measuring tape?" he asked Marcus. Both vanished into the living room and returned, measured the length and decided where to cut the tree while Nicholas was searching for the tool box in the garage.

"Come, leave them alone", Marcus said and followed Nicholas up to where the bedroom was in a turmoil. The group of painters had each piece of furniture covered with a white plastic sheet and had removed some of it into Marcus' atelier under the roof.

"Hey, boss", one cheered, standing on a ladder dressed in splattered white dungarees and a paper hat upon his head. He had finished painting the ceiling white while his colleague was busy with the walls where he removed the self-adhesive band that separated the white stripes from the blue ones. "Hey, great", Nicholas said, turning around in the room.

"Great job, indeed. How much longer will you need?" Marcus asked and received a glowing look from brown deer's eyes under the paper hat. "One more hour and we've vanished." He winked at Marcus who grinned amused. He was glad that he had removed the painting from the wall that showed him and Nicholas in a tight, naked embrace. This Yassin-chap was a pretty hot number and never missed a chance to flirt with him. Nicholas pretended he didn't notice and disappeared in the bathroom to clean himself up from the painting.

"Want some beer?" Marcus asked.

"Sure, boss." Yassin climbed down the ladder and removed his paper hat to wipe his forehead. "I know the way", his older colleague said and vanished downstairs into the hall where he knew the beer crate was waiting. Marcus felt Yassin's lurking stare. He listened to the water rush in the bathroom and approached Marcus like a panther, cornering him. "Anything else to offer?" he murmured and pressed his abdomen against Marcus'.

Marcus couldn't help but laughing. This was too absurd. He reached out and draw the line of Yassin's profile with his forefinger. "You're too pretty and you know it", he said quietly.

"Then why not give me some extended work to do", Yassin winked once more and licked his lips.

"I pay you for painting my bedroom", Marcus retorted with a still amused expression on his face. "But the place in my bed is occupied already."

Yassin pushed slightly forward and rubbed himself against Marcus' body. "It doesn't have to be the bed..."

The water rush stopped and they heard Yassin's colleague upon the staircase. Yassin stepped back. "See you soon", he whispered and blew Marcus a kiss.


Two hours later Kay appeared in the kitchen, completely dirty with resin and needles and scraped arms. "That was the last time I buy a Christmas tree", he said definitely and sat exhausted at the table. Marcus pushed him a plate with Christmas-cake. "If that isn't too much for you", he said.

Kay watched him warily. "Don't try to chat me up with that too", he said. "Sebastian doesn't say anything but I know he thinks me too skinny."

"So? Doesn't he want to sleep with you anymore?"

Kay glared at him but started to pick at the cake.

Marcus and Nicholas shared a look.

"Sometimes I can't take it anymore", Kay said with low voice. "But I love my job. I've met so many exciting people."

"You've always been sort of an exhibitionist, haven't you?" Marcus said, putting his hand over Kay's. "You need people to adore you."

"Perhaps I'll quit it. It's too exhausting."

"Despite the contract? You earn big money I reckon?" Nicholas said.

The painter rumbled down the stairs with his ladder and colour buckets. Yassin peered into the kitchen. "Finished, boss. Where do we have to leave the plastic sheets and all?"

"Leave them in the hall, we'll take care of it."

From the living room came a loud bang and everybody jumped. Sebastian cursed loudly. "Oh gosh." Marcus followed the noise, Yassin on his heels. The big tree had fallen down across the room covering the carpet with countless needles and water from the supply on the stand. "Jesus, why didn't you call me?" Marcus said. All three lifted the tree up and Yassin, in next to no time, had the tree pinned to the wall with a thin rope and two hooks. "Why didn't you call ME?" he asked, winking at Sebastian who stared sinisterly at him. "Thanks."

Yassin's eyes scurried between the two friends and couldn't decide which of them he thought more exciting. Sandy hair or black hair? Brown eyes or grey-green? He tried his most seductive smile on Sebastian and saw him visibly relaxing. He was even able to return the smile while Marcus had gone to bring the hoover. Anna would have a fit if she saw the mess.

"A friend of the owner?" Yassin asked and stretched his body to let him see his well-trained muscles and all.

Sebastian raised his eye brows and blinked.

"I could help you decorating."

"Does your boss think this is a good idea?" Sebastian said coolly.

"We're finished for today, so I'll never say no to earning extra money."

Sebastian approached him. "Ah, and I thought you'd do it for the enjoyment of being with me..." His eyes suggested he wanted to know the name of his opposite.

"Yassin."

Sebastian eyed the exotic face with great interest. Then he pulled himself together. "Thanks, Yassin, but I think we can manage this alone now."

Yassin lifted his shoulders regretfully. From the corner of his eyes he examined the living room and its interior. Elegant but expensive. Weidenbruch knew for sure how to spend his millions. Before he went he dropped his business card into Sebastian's palm.

[...]