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The Brothel	By : Foraoo Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Savage Garden Views: 2659 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Savage Garden. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
- 17
Chapter 17- The Confession.

“I think there’s too much blood in my alcohol stream.” Brian burped, refilling his glass with the punch. “Not drinking Dazzy? Must you always be so sainted? Perhaps I should take you into a dark corner and help you see God?”

“How can anyone who has as much sex as you want more?” I queried, my eyes searching the room, barely hearing Brian’s response.

Paul had kept to his word. Indeed a party was thrown for Jonathon’s arrival although it certainly wasn’t a roaring success. Everywhere people were going through the motions. As each of us entertained those who requested us, you could see our hearts weren’t in it. Even mine and Brian’s bickering seemed a front. In the corner I could see a very nervous Paul talking to some Japanese businessmen and running his hands through his hair. After a while he gave a grin and sent them in Heath’s direction. Heath didn’t seem thrilled at the prospect but greeted them nonetheless. I scanned the room quickly. All were accounted for with the exception of Orlando for obvious reasons. But Damian was no where to be found. Perhaps he was tending to Orlando?

“Hark I hear the pitter-patter of tiny heads!” Brian called. Sure enough Jason arrived scowling as Brian bowed elegantly.

“One of these days, Molko, I’ll end up killing you.” An uncomfortable silence followed Jason’s statement. “I didn’t mean…I wasn’t…” He shrugged sheepishly. “Sorry.” I just glared my response.

“Well isn’t this a thrilling roller-coaster ride of the party?” Jonathon said, coming up behind us.

“Are you kidding? It’s like a wake!” Jason squeezed his eyes shut. “Sorry again.”

“It’s amazing how you can get both feet in your mouth and remain standing.” Brian sighed, a sweet smile on us face. “I need more drink, I need to get as legless as Jason.”

“Anyone know how Orli’s doing?” I asked. “Dr Lewis say’s his allowed visitors but he keeps refusing to see me.”

“God knows. And what’s with this ‘Dr Lewis’ crap? Don’t you call significant others by their first name? Or is it part of a kinky thing you two got going on?” Brian grinned at my distress.

“Leave it.” Jonathon warned.

“Oh please. Either you’re ill a hell of a lot or you’re getting injections of the beef variety. I don’t blame you, a little old but still tasty. Plus all those available drugs…”

“Dear lord!” Jonathon cried. “Do you have a word limit you have to hit each day? How about you get a hobby beyond making a rancid ass out of yourself every time you open your mobile sperm bank of a mouth?” Brian’s face was a picture, first he spluttered then took a step forward, then backward.

“Fine! Come on peanut head, we know when we’re not wanted!”

“Stop calling me that!” Jason snapped following a marching Brian.

“You have my eternal admiration. I’ve been trying to shut him up for years, you do it in a minute.” I said, shaking my head as the two walked off.

“It’s a gift. Damn this party is a wake. Want to get completely plastered?” He asked, holding a cup of punch out to me.

“I don’t really drink…Then again it might take the edge off a little. Okay.” I smiled at him and accepted the punch, my fingers grazing his. I had a feeling it was going to be an interesting night. ~*~*~*~*

“Look out. There’s a bald guy coming over.” I attempted to say, except my speech was so slurred even I couldn’t understand it. Luckily he got the gist.

“Damnit what do we do?” His speech was less slurred then mine but he was more unsteady on his feet.

“Hello dears, I wondered if I could have the pleasure of your company?” The bald man asked in a thick Australian accent. Hungrily he looked us up and down. “My name is Clive James, and whose company do I have the pleasure of having?”

“Hang on a minute. You don’t think ‘we’ are hookers do you?” Jonathon asked while I looked at him perplexed.

“What your not? It’s just your so both…well you know.” Clive gaped at us both.

“No I don’t know! Well this is an outrage! Isn’t it Tarquin?” Jonathon turned towards me and quickly I looked for the mysterious ‘Tarquin’.

“Oh me?” I gasped catching on. “Yes indeed Marvin. What’s the world come to when a man can’t enjoy a night out without being propositioned for sex? I may have a word with Mr McGann about the company he keeps.” Remarkably my outburst was completely coherent, although the room did spin a little.

“Oh please accept my apologies. In fact take it as a compliment! McGann’s youths are all so good looking…”

“A compliment? It’s renowned that McGann’s boy’s have extreme genital warts!” Jonathon/Marvin interrupted.

“And mental disorders.” I added. “That one over there? The really tall Asian looking one?”

“Darius Danesh?”

“Yeah that’s him. Anyway he thinks he’s a duck. I heard he was once found in a pond quacking in vain for bread pieces. Each winter he has to be locked in a small room in the attic in case he tries to fly south.”

“Good lord!” Clive gasped.

“Oh that’s just the tip of the iceberg.” Jonathon added. “Wait ‘til we tell you about Josh Harnett…”

For an hour and a half we regaled Mr James with tales about the others. We also told him about ourselves. Jonathon’s novelty commemorative tea spoon collection, his villa in the south of France and my transgender wife, Coco.

“I think I’m getting quite tipsy boys. How about you? Another drink perhaps?” Clive unsteadily motioned towards the fast descending punch.

“Oh why not Clive? Why not.” I took another cup for him and quickly downed it.

“So what business are you in boys?” Clive asked, helping himself to more as well.

“Erm…paperclips.” I piped up.

“Paperclips?”

“Lot of money to be made in paperclixcusxcuse me is that the elusive Bono over there? Talking to Paul?” I pointed through the crowd to the two figures.

“Yes I think so. Goodness it’s a rarity to see him.” Clive answered.

“Well Tarquin it’s abtimetime we introduced ourselves.” I said, turning to Jonathon.

“You’re Tarquin, I’m Marvin…aren’t I?”

“Boy’s are you sure you should? You’ve had quite a bit.”

“Shh…” Jonathon patted him on the head and put his fingers to his lips. “Don’t be concerned shiny head. Oh so shiny. Do you polish your head to get it that shiny?” Wincing I dragged him off.

“Maybe he’s right, we’ve had so much to drink…” I said.

“Chicken! Now come Mr Bono awaits…”

Paul was deep in conversation as we approached. Seeing us he grinned and motioned us towards him. The grin was short lived when he saw how much difficulty we were having standing up.

“Ahh Darren, Jonathon. This is Bono.” He patted the arm of small man beside him.

“Where?” Jonathon made a show of searching for him. Turning in a full circle he glanced down at the perplexed man. “Oh Mr Bono! Didn’t see you! What’s the weather like down there?” I gripped my hands to my mouth to quiet my giggles as Paul shot daggers with his eyes.

“Hery ery droll.” The man answered, the Southern Irish accent made even this sound poetic.

“And which dwarf are you?” Jonathon continued.

“Well nice seeing you boy’s. We’ll talk later. This way Bono…” Paul went to lead the man away but we stepped in front of them.

“Sorry if we seemed rude.” I spoke up. “Please stay, talk to us.” Bono smiled and nodded his consent.

“You know Darren, he's so short, he has to hold up a sign saying ‘Don't Spit! I Can’t Swim!’” Glaring at Jonathon and shrugging at me Bono once again attempted to move away.

“Hey man! It's not our fault you can't go on the good rides in Disney.” Jonathon called. Bono stopped and turned round slowly.

“You really do have a death-wish, don’t you? Well, you’re in luck, because I have a murder-wish.” He said, angrily.

“Well that’s not nice Mr Bono. You should stand up when you’re speaking to me. Oh! You are standing up!” Jonathon slapped his forehead and shook his head in wonder.

athoathon you are in serious trouble when this night is over.” Paul turned to the angry man. “I am so sorry about this.”

“It’s quite alright Paul. It’s not your fault this youth’s an arsehole. But I’d appreciate you keeping him away from me. Before I kill him.”

“But I haven’t met you yet!” I cried, smiling at him. He smiled back smoothly. Adding a seductive tone to my voice I walked towards him. I grabbed hold of his labels and I pulled him close. “There’s just one thing I’ve always wanted to tell you.” My voice dripped sex.

“Yes?” He queried, huskily. His eyes glazing over with lust.

“Oh…I think I’m gonna puke.” I moaned. He tried to take a step back but I held fast to his labels.

“He looks sick, Mr Bono.” Jonny’s was voice just behind me. Finally my stomach lost the battle and returned all of the alcohol I’d downed in one pulsating flow.

“His just vomited all over your shoes Mr Bono.”

“I know that!” Bono shrieked. “Paul get them out of here!” That was the last thing I heard before I passed out.

*~*~*

“….never have I been so angry at any of you! When I’m though with you both…” Paul’s voice drifted in and out of my mind as I slowly regained consciousness. “Look at him Jonathan! Just look at him undoubtedly this is your doing. I don’t believe his touched a drop in his life!”

“Oh come on, let him loosen up once in a while.” Jonathon’s voice sounded directly above me. I felt the softness of the bed sheets beneath me and attempted to sit up.

“Paul?” I half moane fel felt an arm on my shoulder pushing me back and Paul’s voice sounding surprisingly tender as he urged me back to sleep.

“Keep an eye on him Jonathon. I don’t want him swallowing his tongue or anything.” Paul said, his voice moving away on the latter.

“Will do boss man.” Was Jonathan’s response. As the door closed gently I felt his palm on my forehead. I opened my eyes and stared queasily at him.

“How are you feeling?”

“Was I sick? My mouth tastes funny.” I asked.

“Yes you were, much to everyone’s glee. You really can’t handle your drink can you?”

“And suppose you can?”

“But Darren, at any point did you see me drink? If you paid attention I held the same cup all evening.” I pushed myself up onto my elbows and stared at him to see if was serious.

“Why would you do that?” I gasped. “And all those things you said?”

“Yes that was fun. And if anyone takes offence I’ll blame the ‘devils water’. But why?” He placed his hand on my crotch and raised his eyebrow.

“I have to go. Let go of me now Jonathon.” I tried to push past him but he grabbed my arms and pushed me back on the bed.

“You know why I never gave you the journal Darren? Because I’d be giving you back to him.” He spat the last out as if it disgusted him. “And you’d lose whatever interest you ever had in me. You’d go back to your journals, back to your memories and I’d have been a once useful tool forgotten.”

“What do you care what I think of you.” I whispered.

“A great deal, Darren.” His hands undid my belt. “A great deal.”

“This can’t happen, Damian!” I cried, although I made no move to stop him as he pulled down my trousers and briefs together. I even held my hips up to help him.

“Damian who?” He murmured, taking my organ into his mouth.

*~*~*

“Damian?” I inquired gently as I entered his office. “Are you awake?”

It was at least 3am now. The hallways seeped darkness but downstairs the party lingered. After leaving Jonathon’s room I’d felt confused and ashamed. There was only one man to talk to, the man who currently had his head in his arms on his desk. As I approached I spotted the bottle on his desk. It was empty.

“You’ve been drinking.” My heart sank as I stated it.

“Well spotted Sherlock.” He gazed up at me his eyes red rimmed and bloodshot.

“Why?”

“Why not? You were with him have you? Discuss me? Laugh did you?”

“I would never laugh at you, Damian. Never.” I moved around the desk and went on my knees in front of him. I turned his face towards me and reluctantly he returned my gaze.

“Why shouldn’t you? I can see the joke. ‘Oh look it’s that drunken idiot Dr Lewis, the ex-whore can barely keep his payments up let a tre treat a patient…’” He barely finished his sentence, a sob tearing from his throat. “I can see the appeal, why wouldn’t you want him? But be wary of him Darren. The mans dangerous, evil.”

“Damian…”

“No I understand! Go to him, go to Paul!”

“Paul? Why on earth would I…”

“He told me. Told me how you screamed and writhed beneath him. How you beg him to visit each night!”

“What? I’m not with Paul!” I almost laughed at the absurdity and, to my shame, felt relief I had not been found out. “He came to me and yes we slept together but I had no choice!” His face froze and he squinted through the alcoholic haze at me.

“Good god…” He breathed. “Why would he do that? Tell me those things?”

“Because he’s a vicious bastard Damian. He can’t stand it that you’re happy and he’s not the reason for it.” I gripped his hands to me heart and stared intently into his eyes.

“No not vicious, evil.” He stared dully at the ceiling.

“Evil, why evil?”

“He had so much to live for. Just a child…” Damian appeared to be talking to himself now.

“Who? Who was just a child.”

“…and he just snatched it away to save himself.”

“Who’re you talking about?” Anticipated fear clasped my chest.

“Paul.” He locked his gaze onto mine. “That’s who I’m talking about. Paul.”

“What about Paul?”

“He murdered him. Paul killed Elijah. ”

Next Instalment- On The Run.
- 15
- 16
- 17
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The Brothel