Storüü...
kleines Ratespiel: Wer ist wer?
Anmerkungen:
1. nur wer die story noch nicht kennt darf mitraten
2. Kommentare und konstruktive Kritik sind erwünscht
3. Bloß lesen und schweigen zählt nicht und wird strafrechtlich verfolgt.
4. das ist alles nur eine dumme idee und sicher nie so passiert
5. Danke - und sori - an alle Beteiligten, aber das steht zum schluss nochmal. ;)

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Wicked Game

Actually I thought it could never come to anything like this, but – bang – there it was, unexpectedly, not asked for and completely out of tune with anything I had done or felt before.
But well – things never turn out the way you want them to, and you’re wiser afterwards anyways.
So this is what happened after all.

Have you ever paid attention to the first remaining snow falling in winter?
The lack of sound it creates? I mean… you can hear rain falling, splashing and dropping, but it’s different with snow. There’s always a certain silence connected to it, and whatever happened before: that silence seems to cover all.

However, these first snowflakes fell early this year, and we were out at the river, somehow seeing each other for the first time in months.
The last time we had met had ended with yet another one of our endless discussions about how we were not going to make it. We’d screamed at each other, not necessarily nasty things, but still harsh enough to do harm after all, just for the cause of it, and I had given up after all, walking away and leaving him where he was. “I’m not going to discuss this anymore, we’re fucked and this is it” I had said, and off I was.
That incident had been months ago by now and we actually really hadn’t seen each other then, and after a long while of – how cheesy – heartache I had felt more or less recovered when one of my best friends came up with the glorious idea to set up some sort of band-meeting. With them. That night. Thanks dude.
Anyways, I had followed his invitation especially since everybody had already warned me to get out with them again, producing arguments like “you can’t close yourself up, winter’s bad enough without depression and we’re not playing at the moment, so get up and take it”, and stuff.
But that’s what friends are for after all, and so we all found us in that favourite bar of ours, sitting together and somehow celebrating ‘the old times’ or at least the long gone summer.

That is… the others were celebrating, whereas I simply sat with them, listened, followed their episodes about whatever they’d done, on stage, on tour, back home, on vacation, wherever. Even though did I laugh with them, did throw in a comment every now and then made them laugh, I still listened more than I was talking and kept myself closed-up.
And most of it all, I basically watched … him. I watched him sitting in the corner farthest away from me, unexpectedly open and extrovert. Of course there were moments in which he simply leaned back and listened which was not at all unusual for him – for of course he’d always been the silent, the quiet one; and despite all talking and laughing before, some sort of shadow seemed to overcome him, and his smile suddenly seemed faded. Maybe he had just recognized me watching him, I didn’t know.
For now, he was joking around, talking as I had seldom seen him talk, vivid and laughing, basically charming a smile onto the face of everyone who looked at him. He seemed sure of himself, flirting with his band-mates almost like he did on stage and yet… ever so beautiful, ever so soft-spoken.
I don’t know what it was but after a time I came to a point when I simply couldn’t stand all this laughter and all this talking anymore, especially since I was completely ignored by him. Eventually I got up, mumbled a short excuse and found myself outside in the cold winter air some moments later.
***