"I am sorry", I say sobbing. With shaky hands and tear-dampened face, I sit on the sticky ground of the pandemonium and no longer know where my head is. Everything is spinning and the sweat is running down my spine. I'm incredibly sick and I would love to throw myself into the next hole in the ground and never want to come out again. I feel like I'm on a bad trip. The music is too loud and the lack of oxygen in the club takes my breath away. Fear and panic eat their way through my bowels. Every fiber of my body is flooded by the reaction chain of my organism. My heart is beating way too hard and my pulse is racing. The pressure in my chest is so incredible. With every stroke that is much too fast, the strength increases and I feel the pain very clearly. It tears me apart from the inside and tries to penetrate my chest. My breathing is intermittent and far too many things are beating down on me at the same time. Andrew who talks to me incessantly, Raphael who holds me protectively in his arms and tries to calm me down, the music that is much too loud and the lack of oxygen in my lungs.

Alec who lied to me and left me. My anger and disappointment are still huge. But the pain in my chest and the longing in my heart are so much bigger.

"I lost him. It's my fault", I say sobbing and let the previously suppressed tears run free. It's liberating and loosens the lump in my throat. But crying doesn't relieve the pain in my chest. On the contrary. More and more hot tears leave my eyes and wet my heated face with a trickle of despair. Every drop that pearls from my eyes leaves a sharp pain in the heart. Thousands of small needle sticks and a knife with a sharp blade are stuck deep in the muscle, which is powerful and much too fast beating.

"What did I do?", I ask rather turned to myself and at the same time look into Andrew's tear-damp face. He shakes his head slightly and strokes the back of my hand incessantly.

"What were you up to? Did you really want to let this guy fuck you?," he asks. Raphael behind me takes a hissing breath. This idea sends a chill of the uncomfortable kind down my spine.

"I don't know. Probably. But I was thinking about Alec the whole time", I answer guiltily. Andrew is right, Alec would never have forgiven me for that. But it doesn't change the fact that I would have made the biggest mistake in a relationship. This guilt weighs heavily on me.

"I think about Alec all the time. Even now. What's wrong with me? I hate him", I moan.

"You love him", replies Raphael.

"Sometimes the transition between love and hate is a bit vague. Magnus, you have a lot to deal with. But please don't do anything rash. You would regret it forever." Raphael holds me tightly in his arms and I let myself fall, enjoying the closeness and the strong hug of my childhood friend. It has been so many years since we last sat in this position. In the middle of the corridor of the oncology ward. When my mind realized what had just happened and all the tension left my body.

Even then, Raphael held me in his arms when my legs no longer supported the weight of my body and I just slumped on the cold floor of the hospital. Andrew held my hands in his, just as he did now, and together we wept over the premature death of a loved one.

"Why are you two doing this? Why do you two keep doing this to yourself? I'm a lousy boyfriend and an even worse husband." Andrew looks at me lovingly and Raphael buries his face in the crook of my neck.

"Because we love you", he whispers and a violent tremor goes through my body. His words fill me with warmth and happiness. However, it is Andrew's words that break all dams once again.

"Because you are our friend. And because friends stick together. Even if life is a slut with a vicious sense of humor. We are there for you. Always. We love you Magnus. It is so incredibly difficult to watch as you are trample your luck", Andrew replies and I'm glad that this corner of the lounge is protected from prying eyes. Otherwise we would put on a great show for the rest of the pandemonium visitors. And I can really do without that. My tears are only slowly running out, but the oppressive, painful feeling in my chest just doesn't go away. So I lay crying in Raphael's arms, wishing he was Alec.

"Crap", I say.

"You can say that out loud. You really screwed it up.", answers Raphael and Andrew nods in agreement.

"I have to see him", I say, breaking free from Raphael's embrace and Andrew's grip. I get up suddenly and immediately the world begins to turn around me. I hate the feeling of being out of control. And once again I curse my body for trying to store the alcohol for as long as possible.

"What you up to?", Andrew asks, slightly panicked, and grabs my arm. This is the only way he can prevent me from falling backwards on my buttocks.

"I have to see Alec."

"But not in this condition. You are drunk", replies Andrew hastily.

"You are the best friends I could wish for. And I love you too. But I'm going to my husband now. And tell him not to leave me."

"Wait until tomorrow, Magnus. You could say things that you can't take back. You are going to go home now and sleep in. You can talk to Alec tomorrow."

I shake my head vehemently. I cannot and will not wait.

"No. I'm going to see Alec", I say decisively. I am amazed that I can still speak reasonably clearly. In my head there is the fog of a whole life and the carousel does its rounds ceaselessly. Actually, I'm not doing well. Without waiting for an answer, I stumble out of the lounge and push my way through the masses of dancing and sweaty bodies. The music is a lot louder here than in the lounge and the rubbing bodies squeeze the last of the air out of my lungs. I feel like I'm suffocating at any moment and I breathe a sigh of relief when I stand in the anteroom of the club after what seem like endless hours.

With trembling fingers and a blurry look, I stand in front of an extremely young guy with fiery red short hair and poison green eyes. He looks me over and taps impatiently with his long fingers on the plate that separates us.

"Will it be soon?", he asks, frowning, watching me look for a tiny piece of plastic in the shallows of my jeans. A short time later I triumphantly hold the stamp out to him and he hands me my coat. Sighing, I slip the black wool over my arms and shoulders. The smell of Alec surrounds me and on a spontaneous impulse I pull my cell phone out of my jeans pocket and dial his number. I don't have to wait long for an answer and I lower my head in disappointment.

"We'll get you a taxi first", the warm voice of Raphael sounds next to me and I nod resignedly. He gently puts his arm around my waist and pulls me out of the club into the cold December night.

"His phone is off", I say depressed. What did i expect That he would spend the rest of his life waiting in front of the phone? That the doorbell rings and my name appears in bright green letters on the black display? Maybe.

The icy cold of December night hits me hard. It feels like hitting a wall and almost panicking I take several deep breaths. The oxygen in my lungs is beneficial and was urgently needed. An annoying side effect is dizziness, which is spreading rapidly. Raphael supports my vodka-soaked body and I'm so grateful to him for keeping me from worse. Only marginally do I hear how Raphael puts me in the taxi, Andrew gives the driver my address and has already paid for the ride. I am overcome by shame. They take care of me. Again. Without any objection or expectation in return. You are always there for me. No matter how shit everything is going. Andrew said the right thing. I don't deserve both of them and their total friendship.

I mumble another thank you and close my eyes. With my head tilted back, I let the images of today pass me by. Everything is spinning in my upstairs room and the nausea is steadily increasing. The taxi moves through the streets at a steady pace. The driver is very careful, brakes gently and the gentle rocking makes me sleepy. The city lights flicker behind the closed lids of my eyes. Yellow and red, green and blue with white. A rainbow full of colors displaces the darkness of the night. Even with my eyes closed I can see them clearly in front of me. So did my father's tense face and Alec's sad eyes. Again and again. Alec.

Our time together was powerful and intense. Full of passion and sparkling eroticism. I wonder when it started to get out of hand. Or were we doomed from the start? I can't find answers to my questions. The dull pain in my head keeps increasing. The sweet, intrusive aroma of vanilla tickles my nose. With every breath it becomes more intense and the nausea also increases. Vanilla is one of those smells that I don't like. I lazily open one eye and see the treacherous culprit. A yellow "miracle tree" dangles down from the mirror and gives off its scent with every dancing movement. I grimace in disgust and snort disdainfully.

On the dashboard is one of these wobbly figures, which are supposed to spread joy and a good mood. But the sight of it only makes me feel more sick. Instead of a busty Hawaiian playing the ukulele, Elvis stands there and sneers at me. I feel like I'm in a bad movie and I'm sure the universe wants to punish me for something. I just don't want to think of what for. "We are there." The unfriendly voice of the taxi driver pulls me out of my thoughts. I roll my eyes in annoyance and look out the window. The house is in the dark. It's depressing. Reality catches up with me, the pain in my chest picks up again in intensity. I am finding it hard to breathe again and I would like to scream out loud and cry.

"Take me to Brooklyn", I hear myself say.

"It's on the other end of town", answers the taxi driver. "7th Street and East Drive. It's a red brick house with a green door", I reply to the visibly annoyed driver.

"I can take another taxi too", I say. In my mind I'm already digging out Sam's number. Is he still awake? I'm sure he's already asleep. Inwardly, I make a note to contact him. It is time. I've been putting it off for too long. I spend the drive to Brooklyn in a state of excitement and half asleep. I have no idea which devil rode me. And most of all, what to tell Alec. Head out, heart on. And my heart longs for Alec.

"Are we finally here?", the driver asks me and a look out the window shows me that my heart doesn't always make the right decisions. The sight of the red brick house with the green door makes my pulse soar and a wave of adrenaline flow right into my heart. This time the nausea is not caused by the vanilla tree, but by the tingling excitement.

"Yes. We are here", I answer, hand the driver a few bills and ignore his call for change. He should keep it. Use it to buy his wife a bouquet of flowers or a large portion of ice cream for the children. I feel the beating of my heart all over my body. A constant pulsation in my throat and fear invade me. While I was still so sure in the Pandemonium that this is a good idea, now the thought that Alec refuses to speak to me paralyzes me. I could understand