Eros vs Thanatos: Whoever wins... We lose | By : AnkhesenpaatenRa Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > HIM Views: 1899 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the HIM band or any personalities mentioned personally, and I do not profit from these writings. |
What was Brandon Cole Margera’s idea of a perfect morning?
The led-grey skies over the snowy fields, the lake that darkening behind the wooden window of the second floor. He was lying on the bed, lazily observing the view behind the window – the sky, the mirror-like surface of the lake, and the snow.
He reckoned it was around 5 PM, judging by the light outside. He glanced at his watch on the bedside table, and to his astonishment found out that it was only 12 PM. The sun was evidently going down. Well, in fact, it hadn’t risen at all, hmmm… how do we put it… All in all, it was growing dark. Bam looked at his watch once again. Then he put it on his wrist. Then he threw another glance at the window.
‘Willah,’ he called.
It was chilly in the bedroom, but he was warm, because he and Ville were sleeping back to back like two wolf-pups. Naked, under the same blanket.
‘Willah.’
‘What?’ Ville’s hoarse sleepy voice sounded lower than usual.
‘Willah, what time is it?’
‘Do you give a fuck?’ Ville was incredibly polite.
‘I do,’ Bam said. ‘I think I’ve gone fucking nuts.’
‘I’m glad you’ve come to realize it,’ Ville said.
They had been fucking like rabbits for the whole night up until 6 or 7 AM, enjoying their off time in this cottage, which they rented in Tampere. Therefore, Bam couldn’t give a flying fuck about Ville’s politeness and manners, because it didn’t change a single goddamn thing. He turned around on the bed, fell on Ville’s back, and started shaking him by the shoulders:
‘WHATTIMEISITWILLAH????? WHATTIMEISIT???’
‘Ouch, dammit… Get away… Stop shaking me, for fuck’s sake…’
‘TELL ME!’
‘You little… turd…’
‘WHAT-TIME-IS-IT??’
‘Cunt.’
‘WHATTIME…’
‘Goddammit, you have a fucking watch right there on your fucking wrist, you fucking ass!’
‘And what time is it?’
‘Well, according to your watch…’ Ville grabbed Bam by his hand and pulled him closer, looking at his watch. ‘It’s 12.’
‘AM?’
‘PM.’
‘Are you sure I’ve changed the time-zone?’
‘Yes,’ Ville said. ‘Are you done?’
Bam brushed Ville’s hair away from his neck and gave him a hot wet smooch.
‘Na-a-ah,’ he said. He meant it as a joke, because Ville growled at him in response.
‘Don’t you growl at me,’ Bam said strictly at the risk of getting punched in the stomach. And he did get punched, but damn, it was worth it. He burst out laughing. Ville woke up completely in the process of it, twisted out of Bam’s arms, and set up on the bed, yawning desperately, each yawn threatening to rip his mouth.
The yawning took all of his accumulated energy, so Ville fell back on the bed.
‘What’s the hurry? Do you need to go somewhere? Alko is open until eight, we’re good.’
‘I don’t need to go ANYWHERE,’ Bam said happily.
‘Then. Why. The. Hell?!’ The tone of Ville’s voice and the pauses between the words were inimitable. As always. One of a kind.
‘No, but I mean, look what’s going on there.’
‘What’s going on WHERE?’
‘Behind the window.’
‘There’s nothing behind the window.’
‘Don’t you see it? It’s night out there.’
‘Well it is a bit gloomy today, so what?’
‘But it’s not just “gloomy”, there’s no sun. AT ALL. It’s dark. It’s night outside.’
‘Have you ever heard of a thing called “polar night”?’
‘The words do sound familiar, yes,’ Bam admitted. ‘But I thought that it happens somewhere up North, at the Northern Pole, where the polar bears live.’
‘We are in the North,’ Ville said. ‘Where the Auroras happen.’
‘Yeah right, and you are the polar bear,’ Bam giggled, his voice sounded unconvinced.
‘Oh God, why me…’ Ville said, grabbing his cigarette pack from the bedside table without looking at it, and lit up right in the bed.
‘Alright-alright. Calm down. I see, and what about… let’s say… yesterday? Was it gloomy as well?’
‘Dear Bam, the last thing that could’ve possibly come to my mind yesterday was to look out of the window,’ Ville said acidly. ‘Why didn’t you do it yourself, sweetie?’
Bam snickered smugly.
‘I was busy. I had someone to do. I wouldn’t give a fuck even if someone dropped a nuclear bomb out there,’ Bam sang tenderly.
Ville squinted at him with a strange look on his face and melancholically exhaled the cigarette smoke through his nose, but all in all, Bam saw that Ville liked what he said. Therefore, he audaciously continued to probe into the natural phenomena of the Faraway North.
'Will it happen today?'
'What exactly?' Ville asked him expressively.
Bam giggled, fell next to Ville and snorted into his shoulder. He didn’t expect that Ville would be in the mood to flirt with him after all that happened between them.
'The score clearly goes to you for this one,' Bam chuckled.
'Oh, so does it mean that I get to score?' Ville specified.
Bam burst out laughing, crawling under Ville's arm, pushing him with his head like a dolphin.
'So you were saying something about scoring?' Ville asked politely, when Bam snuggled comfortably on his chest.
'I mean, the Aurora,’ Bam said. 'Will it happen today?'
‘How the hell do I know? It doesn’t happen every day.’
‘And who knows?’
‘Well, the tourist center might have some info on it. We could drop by, if you want. Ah, you asshole, now I don’t feel like sleeping at all,’ Ville said, stretching lazily. ‘We need to get up.’
‘Nooooo, come ooon,’ Bam drawled.
‘Come ooon,’ Ville mocked him in a tiny voice. ‘In Rovaniemi it happens almost every day. Well, at least so they say.’
‘What is Rovaniemi?’
‘Oh, you know, the place where Santa Claus lives.’
‘You mean the Real one?’ Bam marveled.
Ville stared at him, astonished. He took a pause, trying to find the right words for an answer. He had to cross out a couple of options straight away.
‘Well… Let’s say it’s a philosophical-methodological matter,’ he finally said.
‘Are you swearing or something?’ Bam asked.
‘What I wanted to say is – it depends on your philosophical outlook on the objective reality, but technically – yes, he is a real person.’
‘No way!’
‘Well, they kinda have this house in Rovaniemi. And Santa Claus kinda does live in that house,’ Ville said.
‘Ville, do you really believe in Santa Claus?’ Bam sounded amazed.
Lost for words, Ville silently dragged the pillow from under his head with his hand and gravely collapsed it on Bam’s head. It was a mistake. Because Bam liked the idea and they ended up spending the next half hour having a silent yet intent pillow fight. Bam’s passion and youth got the upper hand, soon enough, Ville got tired and waived the white flag.
‘One up to me,’ Bam stated cheerfully. Ville’s face was buried underneath the treacherous pillow, which he didn’t even bother to move. Nevertheless, he was extremely expressive at showing his contempt for Bam’s victory, as he gave him a middle finger.
‘So, are we gonna go to that Ruhv-vain-memi?’ Bam asked nonchalantly.
‘Let’s go,’ Ville said, lifting the pillow from his face.
And they set off on a journey. They loaded themselves with some beer in a bleak looking IKEA furnished bar, to make sure they didn’t change their mind. They didn’t, moreover, their determination grew even stronger. Especially after some random guy came up to talk to Ville. The guy blatantly took a seat at their table and kept rambling on in an alien language for what seemed like ages. Bam was about to knock him out, but Ville gestured at him to restrain from doing so. Therefore, Bam clenched his teeth into a painful resemblance of a friendly smile, hoping against hope that he didn’t look like an alligator, lying in wait for a prey with his mouth open. Twenty agonizing minutes later, Ville left his sophisticated signature on a piece of paper given to him by the guy, and Bam realized that the guy must have been a fan, who recognized Ville.
‘And what about me? Will you give me an autograph?’ Bam asked happily.
Ville hid head in his shoulders out of surprise and squinted at Bam.
‘Are you fucking serious?’
‘No, like for real… You haven’t signed anything for me. That shitass has an autograph of Wille Walo, and I don’t… Ville Valo, give me your autograph!’
Ville Valo pensively rubbed his chin. His eye started twitching, it seemed.
‘Let’s get out of here, alright?’ He pleaded.
‘Ok, let’s go.’
‘Keep an eye on our luggage,’ Ville told him strictly.
They had a bottle of Jack Daniel’s for their luggage, and Bam nearly left it at that goddamn café indeed.
Bam was hopping next to Ville down the street. It was night outside. It was lunchtime on the clock. Their lunch – three liters of a strange bubble-less beer – was gurgling in their bellies. Their luggage was gurgling in Bam’s hand. Bam and Ville were going to see Santa Claus. On November the 5th.
‘Willah, and what did he say?’
‘Who?’
‘The dude from the café. He’s been talking for ages. What did he tell you?’ Bam asked jealously. ‘That he loves you and that he’s your biggest fan and shit?’
‘Well, that’s a nice way to put it,’ Ville uttered with an effort after a long pause.
'Oh yeah? So that's how it is, huh? Just like that… while your biggest fan Bam Margera is alive and well. Right before my eyes!!! Taking advantage of the fact that I don’t speak your Alien language. What else did he say? Must've offered to suck you off in a toilet while at it, huh?'
Ville scratched his forehead under his hat. Well, of course, Bam was joking, but there was a peculiar nuance about that joke.
‘Not exactly. I’d say that he was assuming that I am the one, who does that,’ he said quietly.
‘As in?’
‘Well, he said that he doesn’t really like us, because he likes real music for real men, and we are a bunch of wussies, who play some faggoty stuff for girls, he also said that I look like a girl, but his little sister likes me a lot and she would be damn excited and happy to get my autograph.’
‘AND YOU GAVE IT TO HIM?’
‘I know right? That’s the thankless job of a poor musical prostitute for you.’
Bam sniffed, overwhelmed by a sudden flow of empathy. He caught Ville by the sleeve of his coat and kept walking silently for some time. And then he got excited, all of a sudden.
‘Do you want me to go back and kick his ass?’ Bam offered.
‘Nah, it’s ok,’ Ville giggled. ‘But thanks anyway.’
‘It’s nothing, really. I’d do anything for you,’ Bam said.
Ville blushed and pouted his lips, blowing him a kiss.
They had a long journey ahead of them. They chatted lazily for a bit and then nodded off right in their seats. The carriage was half-empty, so Ville moved to the pair of seats in front of them and then curled himself up into a fetus position, with the professionalism of a man, who spends most of his life in a tour bus, leaving Bam wondering how that was physically possible. He pushed the beanie over his forehead and clasped his hands on his chest. He looked kind of small. As in, he looked so little and down to earth.
Bam was tenderly embracing the luggage entrusted to him and was staring adoringly at his sleeping friend. It was dark and there was nothing to look at behind the window anyway. It was fun to compare his first impression of meeting The Ville Valo from HIM with what he was seeing now. When they first met, Ville seemed taller and broader in the shoulders, and his charisma was filling the whole room, and now the very same guy was sleeping on a seat in front of him curled up in a ball like a scrawny overgrown kitty. The contrast was outrageous, it was enormous.
Bam even leaned over the table, looking at the face of his sleeping friend. It was terribly fascinating to see him as he was, without his put-on persona of the Rock Idol. The bottoms of Ville's jeans were incredibly shabby, his coat was too big, he had a strange-looking scarf around his neck, his dark brown curls stuck out from under the knitted beanie that slipped on a side, while he was sleeping. Bam considered Finland to be a part of Scandinavia, but Ville looked somewhat exotic for a Scandinavian. His skin, although pale from the nocturnal lifestyle, had a light olive shade to it. His brows were thick above the bridge of his nose, the nose itself was a bit too wide, his puffy lips a bit too bright - all those features combined were creating an image of a very sensual and passionate face, which didn't quite correspond with the conception of the traditional Northern restraint and coldness. There was something exotic about him, something purely animalistic, out of his stage persona his friend Ville didn't look like the Heartkiller and the Sex Symbol, he looked more like a… Like a handsome homeless gypsy.
The check-taker, who appeared in the car at that moment, seemed to share Bam's association, although he didn't seem to share Bam's tender emotions towards the facial features of his loved one. He didn't seem to recognize the celebrity either, because he spent a good few minutes carefully studying the tickets given to him by Bam, and then told them strictly to take their seats according to the tickets, if possible, justifying it by the fact that they would soon pass through some unpronounceable city, where, allegedly, a lot of people would get on the train. Ville obediently vacated the seat without even waking up, and curled up on his seat in the very same way without the slightest hesitation. The only difference was that now his head and his shoulders were resting on Bam's lap.
It was even better that way. Bam was barely holding in an enthusiastic laugh. He tenderly stroked Ville's cheek with his fingertips, the cheek twitched slightly under his touch, his movement brought a gentle little smile to Ville's face. The check-taker put on a poker face and proudly walked away.
He tried to walk away, but Bam had kept quiet for half an hour and was aching to talk to someone:
‘Could you please wake us up in that city… how did it go, Rah Roh… Well, the place, where the Santa Claus lives? We’re going to see Santa Claus. We are tourists.’
‘Oh, and where are you from?’ The check-taker asked in an utterly uninterested voice.
‘From West-Chester.’
‘That must be somewhere in England?’ It seemed that it was technically impossible to show even less interest in the conversation, but the tall, colorless check-taker was doing the impossible.
‘That’s in the US!’ Bam said proudly.
‘I’ll let you know when we reach Rovaniemi, sir, have a good trip,’ Bam seemed to notice a shadow of an old vicious gnawing pain in the eyes of the transport worker, covered by the mask of professionalism. He was clearly dying to end this conversation.
'I'm really sorry, me and my brother, we don't speak a lick of Finnish. He doesn't really speak any English either... This is my brother,' Bam gave an unnecessary explanation, returning Ville his old joke. 'My twin brother.'
'You look remarkably similar to each other,' the check-taker said. The poor guy must have been crying the hot tears of despair somewhere deep inside, under the facade of professionalism.
'Thank you,' Bam said. ‘Even our mother has difficulty telling us apart.'
Awoken by Bam's babbling, Ville suddenly boomed in a very deep, distinct and well-trained voice:
'Vittu.'
The check-taker straightened up like a string.
‘Vittu?’ Bam wondered. ‘Ah… err… that’s his name. I’m Bam and this is my brother – Vittu.’
Ville howled with laughter, despite his attempts to hold it.
‘I will gladly inform you when we’ll be close to Rovaniemi, gentlemen,’ the check-taker said through his teeth, finally having the excuse to turn on his heels and dash out of the car, leaving the tickets of a few other passengers unchecked.
'Ha,' Ville said and sat up in his chair, straightening up and stretching, clutching his leg under him. 'Let's have a drink, sir Bam of West Chester,' he took the bottle, unscrewed it, took a gulp of whiskey, and then handed it back to Bam.
‘Cheers, Infernal Don Vittu of Hell-sinki,’ Bam said.
‘Don? Why?' Ville asked. ‘Like Don Vito Corleone?’
‘Well, yeah, something like that,’ Bam said. ‘And what does Vittu mean? Is it like a short form for Ville or something?’
Ville burst out with his signature hyena-like laughter, filling Bam’s soul with warmth, tenderness, and trust.
‘Yes,’ he said.
‘I don’t believe you,’ a sudden realization came to Bam, when he took the bottle to his lips, forgetting to take a sip once again. ‘It seems like… I can’t explain it, but something about your face makes me feel like you’re playing me for a fool. I saw the way the officer twitched when you said that word, Ville, what does Vittu mean? You got me that time with that fucking Gap-tooth – Raka…Raga… How did it go?’
‘Rakohammas,’ Ville helped him.
‘That thing, yeah. You’re incredibly kind today, dear Rakohammas,’ Bam said.
'Don Vittu,' Ville repeated dreamily, looking out of the window at the changing pale-blue outline of the snow covered trees against the dark night skies. 'Ha, Mige would love it.'
‘WHAT THE HELL IS VITTU?!’ Bam yelled at the top of his lungs.
‘Fuck, keep it down,’ Ville covered Bam’s mouth with his hand, as the passenger four rows ahead of them got up from his seat to look at them suspiciously.
‘Should I go ask him?’ Bam asked threateningly.
‘Cunt,’ Ville said reluctantly.
‘Hey, there’s no need to be mean,’ Bam huffed at him. And finally took a swig from the bottle.
‘Vittu – means “cunt” in Finnish,’ Ville said, and whiskey spurted out of Bam’s nose.
‘My life will never be the same again,’ Bam said after he had had his share of laughing, coughing and screaming, because having whiskey flowing out of your nose turned out to be fucking painful.
The rest of the journey flew by rather fast. They paid a visit to the dining-car to have some beer for a change. Ville stopped a few times on their way in the vestibules between the cars to have a smoke under the sign that said “No smoking”. Bam did not know whether he saw the sign or not. He decided not to upset Ville over such trifles, while his friend was swearing at the creation and the ministry of transportation for not putting a single goddamn butt bin in there. Bam just stood there, keeping watch for officials, to warn him in time.
Then they returned to their seats, and spent the rest of the way sleeping with their heads rested on each other's shoulders, until the check-taker separated them, rudely breaking their peace with a kind reminder that the train would be reaching Rovaniemi in half an hour. The walked from the train station to the city on foot, which was reasonable, especially since their luggage lost half of its weight.
‘Wow, it’s cold here,’ Bam said. ‘And dark. And creepy.’
‘Looks pretty normal to me,’ Ville shrugged, walking down the street with a cigarette clenched between his teeth.
‘And where are the people?’
‘Why the hell do you need people?’ Ville asked.
‘Good point,’ Bam agreed. ‘So what are we gonna do? Head straight to Santa?’
‘Nah, I don’t think so,’ Ville said. ‘What time is it now?’
‘It’s almost 1, but I can’t tell AM or PM,’ Bam said honestly.
‘AM,’ Ville said.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yeah… I guess. Well, as far as I remember, he only works until 5. I might be wrong though, I haven’t been here since I was a kid,' Ville said.
‘Works until 5?’ Bam asked confusedly.
‘Yeah, why? Everyone here works until 5 more or less,’ Ville said.
‘And what’s his job?’ Bam asked.
Ville took away the bottle from him, stopping for a second and looking intently into the eyes of his American friend. Turned out, Bam wasn’t kidding.
‘Being Santa Claus,’ he said quietly, taking a small sip of a strong drink.
‘Oh, so you mean he’s an actor?’ Twelve hours later, Bam finally decided to specify the wordings.
‘Yeah,’ Ville said.
‘Aaaaaaaah,’ Bam drawled disappointedly.
‘Shall we get back?’ Ville asked philosophically. ‘While we didn’t get too far from the station.’
‘Nah, let’s hit the sack somewhere,’ Bam proposed reasonably. ‘And tomorrow we’ll go and see that Fucking Loser.’
‘Sounds like a plan,’ Ville agreed.
‘Do they even have hotels here?’ Bam asked, looking at grey identical buildings and one-store houses around them.
‘They do,’ Ville said.
‘You know, it’s not exactly the way I imagined Santa’s Homeland would look like.’
‘And how did you think it would look like?’
‘Well, I don’t know, like the Lapland from the fairytales, I guess.’
‘This is Lapland,’ Ville said.
‘And where is the Snow Queen?’
‘You’ll ask Santa Claus about her tomorrow, alright?’ Ville insisted.
‘Don Vittu!' Bam snickered, realizing that Ville was making fun of him. ‘And where… I don’t know… Where are the huge magic castles made of ice?’
‘In Narnia,’ his mate said flatly. ‘Right next to the Talking Lion.’
‘Do you mean Narnia is located in Finland, too?’ Bam wondered.
‘Ahahah-ha-ha-haaaaaaaa,’ Ville’s roar of laughter echoed on the empty street. ‘Finland – the land of the Talking Lions. I am personally acquainted with two. One of them speaks, indeed. Although he does it very rarely, quietly and unwillingly. So yeah, make sure to check the wardrobe, if we will be lucky enough to find ourselves a room for the night. Hell if I know, maybe Narnia is somewhere here as well…’
‘Alright, and the reindeers?’
‘It’s late, the reindeers are sleeping,’ Ville said.
‘Fine, you win,’ Bam agreed. ‘Woah, a super-market, cool, it’s like, like they really have a civilization here and shit. Ha, look, McDonald’s, ain’t it rad that Santa eats at McD’s? My life will never be the same again. Alright, and what’s up with the Northern Lights? Where are they? Sleeping somewhere in Narnia?'
‘Ounaskoski,’ Ville said.
‘Is that a swear word again? Bam asked. ‘I’m almost hundred fucking percent positive that you just called me a dumbass.’
‘At the moment we are on the main street of Rovaniemi, and there should be a river somewhere down there. The river is called Ounaskoski.’
‘I’m not even gonna try to repeat what you just said,’ Bam said.
‘We should get a good view from there,’ Ville said.
‘Aaah,’ Bam drawled. ‘Ok then.’
‘And there’s a hotel nearby.’
‘Oh God, it can’t be real,’ Bam groaned.
They went down to the river. The skies were dark. They walked alongside the bank of the river back and forth for a couple of times, cracked a couple of jokes, had a snowball fight, and finished their whiskey, leaving themselves with no luggage. And then, when Ville was ready to give the fuck up and get the hell out of there to try to spend the night in some place at least remotely warm and comfortable when Bam let out an earsplitting bowl:
‘AAAH!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!! EITHER I’M COMPLETELY FUCKING SHITFACED AND THESE ARE THE PINK SPIDERS FROM MARS, WHO CAME HERE TO TAKE ME, OR THIS IS IT!’
‘This is it. The Aurora,’ Ville nodded, shifting from one foot to the other.
‘Fucking hell, it’s a sign!!!’ Bam said happily.
‘Uh-huh,’ Ville said, shaking from head to toes.
‘Baby, are you cold?’ Bam asked him tenderly. The streets were empty. Not a single curious face was peeking out of the windows. The city looked deserted, and it felt as if he and Ville were the only living creatures in the whole universe; the clouds of thick white smoke were rising from the water surface into the cold air that was painted with the flickering neon colors by the Northern Lights, burning all over the skies above them.
‘Yes,’ Ville said.
‘I’ll keep you warm,’ Bam said and cupped Ville’s face in his hot hands, joining their lips for a kiss, ‘Come to me,’ Ville wrapped his arms around him, returning the kiss.
Feeling the familiar taste of Bam’s lips, and the smell of his skin. The smell that became so near and dear to him lately, even painfully so. Dissolving in the physical and emotional warmth of this strange guy. He really felt much warmer now, he forgot about everything, he didn’t know for how long they’d been standing there under the street-lamp and the Aurora Borealis, holding and kissing each other passionately and eagerly like two teenagers on the first date, whispering the words of love and some foolish erotic nonsense that was taking away their breath, making the fire inside them grow stronger with every second. He even began to feel afraid that he would find it a good enough idea to make love right there.
And despite the fact that they were dressed in hats, and jackets, and overcoats, and it was a strange night in a strange foggy city of grey boxes, where the reindeers were sleeping, according to Ville Valo; despite all the Narnias, Santa Clauses on duty and other oddities, Bam knew once and forever that this was the most beautiful and romantic kiss of his life.
For the first time in his life, he was whispering “I love you” under the Northern Lights and he was happy and thrilled to bits. He had a strong feeling that they won’t bother the good old Nick and his reindeers with their attention tomorrow, and even if Ville was right about Narnia, they won’t go there either.
To Hell with Narnia. I love you. To Hell with everything.
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