I never expected to have a life beyond Death of Glitter. Rock icons have a notoriously short shelf life. There's a reason people say, You're only as good as your last record. It's true.

I was lucky.

The DOG concert ended an era. Not to mention more than one career. But it didn't end mine.

Or Curt Wild's.

Curt finally found what he'd been looking for. Or it found him. I guess it depended on what you thought of Brian Slade.

I was never a fan of Brian's in those days. He was a little thief, and make no bones about it, he stole from everyone, including me. There was that song, which I hate to admit he sang better than I did, by the way, and then there was that pin. The faux emerald pin that supposedly traced its way to me through Oscar Wilde.

I loved that pin. Right up until the moment when Brian Slade walked into my life one New Year's Eve and kissed me. How like Brian to steal a kiss before he stole the pin. Such charm must surely be its own reward.

Our paths didn't cross again until a few months before Death of Glitter. I first met Curt shortly after he left Brian. I'd say he came to his senses, but you might think I didn't like Brian. You see, Curt was a true original, what we aristos back in the day would have called a nonpareil. He didn't steal anything from anyone. He didn't need to.

He wasn't afraid to take risks. Professionally, he was a nightmare, raw energy packaged into one vulpine body. Emotionally, he was another story, one that was destined to have a very unhappy ending.

Until I came along.

I saved Brian, and by extension, Curt. I was a hero. Saint Jack. I had this recurring dream about Switzerland. Why? That's a long story.

Suffice it to say, there wasn't anyone else who could have done what I did. I comforted Curt after he broke up with Brian. I hated Brian then. He hurt Curt, and I was hopelessly enamored of the alleged king of pyrotechnics. Oh, I knew it couldn't go anywhere. Curt was a hopeless case. In love with a man that he couldn't have.

But I digress...

Curt wanted only one thing. Brian Slade. What can I say? I tried to stay neutral, hmm, I think that was where Switzerland came in, but I lost my objectivity when Curt cried.

I had it in my power to make a difference. So I did.

After Curt and I cut what came to be known as the Berlin Record, we toured together. In England. Land of Brian Slade.

By that time, Brian had killed off his alter ego, an alien psychopath known as Maxwell Demon. His wife divorced him. Not that it mattered. He was another hopeless case. He wanted Curt as much as Curt wanted him.

But that's where it got complicated. Sigh. Brian was arrested for possession of drugs. He was using cocaine when I found him. Lying in a filthy hotel room. In his own stink.

I could quite cheerfully have left him there. He deserved what he'd gotten. He pushed Curt out of his life without so much as a farewell.

But I saw something in his eyes that gave me pause. Something hidden. Something artless. Something real. He loved Curt.

Oh, bloody hell. Switzerland be damned. I knew Curt was never going to choose me. And yes, I was altruistic enough to wish that Curt could be happy someday. Even if it was with Brian.

Brian and I became quite close. I stayed with him while he went through withdrawal. I bathed him, I washed his face when he threw up, and when we were finally done...I held him.

Because he loved Curt.

Then Brian was on his own. To decide if he wanted a long-term relationship with Curt.

I didn't know if he would show up at DOG. But I hoped that he would. Because the tragedy in Curt's blue-gray eyes was almost unbearable.

Unbeknownst to me, Curt had found a young man. No. That's putting too fine a point on it. Curt was in the process of burying his pain by fucking Arthur Stewart on the rooftop of the theater.

But a funny thing happened. Curt couldn't go through with it. He sent Arthur away. Even as Brian came looking for his former lover.

I wish I'd seen it. Their reconciliation. There must have been sparks and all hell to pay when they got together again, but for some reason, whatever they did...

...worked.

They were never apart after that.

Oh, I saw Brian...and Curt, too, especially when Curt resumed touring. But whenever I saw them, they were always together. Living in each other's pockets, one might say.

I've never regretted helping them. But I couldn't help but wonder if I would ever find the man I was looking for.

And then I did.

Right under my nose.

Arthur Stewart was all wrong for someone like me. He was a slightly built eighteen-year old. He was shy, he still blushed, for God's sake, and he'd never been with a man before.

I didn't want a virgin. I wanted true love.

As it turned out, I got both.

*****

"You do realize I'm not nearly as famous as Curt Wild or Brian Slade?" I asked him.

"That's n-not what I heard," the little wanker answered. His cheeks were stained bright red, and for a moment, I considered sending him home to Mummy and Daddy.

Thank God, I didn't.

"You flatter me."

"I wasn't trying to. I just...well, I think you're, um, beautiful."

"Are you looking to get into trouble?" I asked with a husky throb in my voice that could only mean one thing. Lust was different from love. I knew that. But both of them grabbed me by the throat, and damned if I didn't savor every moment I choked on them.

"That depends. What'd you have in mind?" he inquired diffidently.

Taking you straight to bed and discovering all of your secrets, I thought. God, I had no idea where that'd come from, but I wished it back from whence it came with a vengeance.

I sighed. "Minutes ago you were on the roof with Curt Wild. I'm sure you weren't there to compliment him on the show tonight."

"Yeah, well, compliments are funny things. There's all different ways of giving one."

I was as hard as a rock just from the coy smile he was giving me. "No, no, no, you're much too young. Or I'm much too old. One of those. Or both."

"You could always train me up the way you like," he whispered.

All at once I had visions of driving into that young body with a force that would pierce stone.

He was right.

And suddenly I needed a cigarette desperately.

End