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Paint	By : cryforthemoon Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Rammstein Views: 2058 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Rammstein. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Paint
- 2-Part Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Part Four
- 5-Part Five
- 6-Six
- 4
- 5
- 6
Disclaimer – I don’t own the band, have never met them, don’t intend to insult them, etc.
Author's Notes – I think this is the last chapter but one, folks! Thanks for the feedback :)
Warnings - Violence
Paul and I return to the studio to find Till concentrating on trying to draw the lamppost, while Schneider is sitting at his drum kit with Richard on his lap, the two of them looking at each other as though they’ve just seen alcohol for the first time. Paul clears his throat, and they all look round at us, Richard and Schneider having to practically wrench their stares away. Till looks at me strangely, and I flush remembering what Paul and I have just done.
Richard gets up awkwardly from his seat on Schneider’s lap, almost falling over the drum kit, and walks towards me.
“I owe you an apology,” he mumbles, “it was wrong of me to call you a liar.”

“What about saying that nobody would fuck him?” Paul speaks up angrily.

“That too. That was just me lashing out. I didn’t mean it.” Richard shifts uncomfortably from one foot to the other, not meeting my eyes. “There’s something else, too.” The sentence is spoken so softly I can hardly hear it. “Olli…he raped me.” He lifts his head to look at me, lip trembling. I stare at him. He looks too serious and broken to possibly be joking. Anyway, Paul and I saw him with Schneider. For all the diva-esque qualities Richard possesses, he rarely cries. But here he is now, close to tears again in front of us.
“I lashed out at you because I didn’t want to admit what Olli did to me. Only Schneider knew.”

“Only because I found him after Olli had left.” Schneider says, walking over to Richard and putting a hand on his shoulder.
There’s something I don’t understand. “But you wrestled, Richard, you could have stopped him!”

“I didn’t want to, not at first. He came over to my place, told me he was in love with me and we kissed. But he tried to undress me,” Richard gulps, “and when I said no, that I wasn’t ready, he forced me. And made me believe that I’d let him, that it wasn’t rape.”

“Olli left him on the floor bleeding,” growls Schneider, “he beat Richard up before he raped him and made him believe it was for love. I found him later on that evening.”

“I couldn’t bear to let anyone else know, I was so ashamed. Schneider looked after me, cleaned me up, and heard me tell him everything.”

“You didn’t go to the police?” Till asks.

“I couldn’t! Imagine the headlines: Rock guitarist raped by band mate. I wouldn’t be able to cope with it.”
I nod my head, understanding. If Paul hadn’t come round when he did then I might have hidden the truth away like Richard. I extend my hand to Richard, his face now streaked with tears.
“Friends?”
He gives me a watery smile, and extends his hand to shake mine. “Friends.” He pulls me into an awkward hug, sniffling at my shoulder. I pat his back and see Till over my shoulder. He’s thinking, I can tell by the frown. Richard lets go of me and sinks into Schneider’s arms, burying his face into the white wool of Schneider’s jumper. Schneider holds him and strokes his hair. I feel Paul’s hand slip into my own and squeeze my fingers.
Till finally stops thinking and speaks. “Last night I went to see Olli. I told him that we’d be meeting a little later, about five minutes from now. I suggest that we have a talk with him about all this.”

“Can we beat him up?” Schneider asks.
Till hesitates. “It’s not really up to me. Richard, Flake?”
Richard’s answer is muffled in Schneider’s jumper, but it’s clear enough. “Do some damage.”

“I don’t see what good it’ll do, but I wouldn’t mind seeing him punished a little.” I say.

“Paul, Schneider, feel free.”

In five minutes we have arranged ourselves to look as though we’ve just got there. Richard and Paul are tuning their guitars, I’m trying out random samples on the keyboard, Schneider’s sitting at the drum kit twirling one of his drumsticks like a baton, and Till is gargling his latest composition with a plastic cup of water in his hand. I’m not sure which is worse – the flats and sharps of untuned guitars or Till sounding like a roaring hippo from one of those nature programmes. At least the guitars get better.

Suddenly the door is pushed open, and HE walks in. He winks at me and licks his lips. My fingers stumble and I play a wrong note, the sound discordant and louder than usual with the sudden tension in the room. But it doesn’t show. Schneider nods at Olli, Paul and Richard keep tuning their guitars, and Till finally stops gargling and swallows his water. He wipes his mouth, grinning at Oliver. “You’re a little late.”
“What?” Olli checks his watch. “I don’t think I am. Aren’t you guys early?”

“Not for this.” Paul puts down his guitar carefully. Richard follows suit, and Schneider stops twirling his drumstick and gets up. Olli looks around, bewildered. He laughs a little.

“Am I missing something here?”

“No, you’re just in time.” Richard spits.

“Flake and Richard have told us what you did to them.” Till has stopped grinning and wears a look of disgust and anger on his face.

Olli goes pale, tries to laugh. “What are you talking about? Look, if Flake’s told you about the other night then he wasn’t exactly complaining.”

“Not at first. But I told you it wasn’t right, that I didn’t want you, and you still made me…” I can’t say it and choke on the words.
“Made you what? Return the favour? So what if I did, I was trying to show you how to have a good time with Paul.”

“I could have shown him that myself” snarls Paul.

“What’s your excuse for Richard?” asks Schneider, “did your fists just happen to beat him?”

“I told him I had a crush on him, and we kissed. He was almost asking to be fucked!”

“You forced yourself on me. I told you I wasn’t ready for that.” Richard almost whispers. In the silent tension of the room I can hear him as well as if he were speaking normally.

“Come on, Richard, you were begging for it! Not verbally, but I remember one department of you being very eager. You’re just ashamed of being a horny little slut.”

Schneider’s fist moves so fast it’s a blur, a soft thud and Olli is doubled up, clutching his stomach and gasping for air. Paul’s foot swings out of nowhere and kicks him in the knee, making him drop to the floor with a yell of pain. As he staggers up to try and defend himself, Schneider and Paul attack him at the same time, beating him down until he lies on the floor, bloody, bruised and cursing. Richard steps forward and places a well-aimed kick on Olli’s crotch that makes him curl up on the floor groaning, tears at the corners of his eyes.

“Hold him.” Till’s growl cuts through Olli’s whimpers as Paul and Schneider haul Olli up roughly to kneel between them, his arms twisted sharply behind his back. He kneels, panting and whimpering, his eyes fixed on Till as he steps forward and bends down until he is face to face with Olli.

“This is how we’re going to do things. You are going to apologize to Flake and Richard. You are –”
“I’m not doing anything!” Olli snarls. Till’s hand lashes out so quickly that Olli is caught off guard. The blow forces his head to the left, and when he fights to retaliate Paul twists his arm further round his back. The resulting howl resonates around the room. He looks up at Till, his face twisted in a grimace, blood slowly starting to trickle from the split corner of his lower lip.
“Apologize, or I’ll do it again,” Till says as calmly as if he’d done nothing more violent than belch.

Olli looks at Richard. “I’m sorry” he spits.

“Not good enough. Schneider?” Olli screams as Schneider responds to Till’s command and twists his arm up and around. I can almost hear the bones straining.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Let go, please, my shoulder’s going to break!” Olli shrieks.

“You’re truly sorry?”

“Yes, for god’s sake, let me go!”

“Schneider.”

Schneider releases Olli’s arm but still holds him tightly. Olli slumps forward, sobbing.

Till kneels down and puts his hand under Olli’s chin, lifting his head up. He puts his face close to Olli’s, so close their noses are almost touching. Till smiles cruelly, speaks softly, his eyes never leaving Olli’s.
“If you ever treat anyone like you have treated your friends, I shall personally make sure that you live in pain for the rest of your life. Understand?”
Olli nods, wincing. Till reaches down and grabs Olli’s crotch, squeezing hard. Olli whimpers, a lone tear snaking its way down his cheek.
“And I’ll make sure you hurt most here,” giving a last hard squeeze. Till moves his head so his mouth is up close to Olli’s ear. “You’re going to go now. You’re going to go, think about what you need to do to change, and we shall expect you back here at ten tomorrow.”

“You’re not firing him?” Paul asks, confused.

“If he leaves, Rammstein ends. I’m not having the band finished because of something so worthless as him.” With that, Till moves his head back and flicks out his tongue to lick away the coagulating blood at Olli’s mouth. He rolls his tongue around his mouth, gets up and spits out the blood on Olli’s head.

“Get out.”

Paul and Schneider release Olli’s arms, and he scrambles to get up, running out of the door.

Till smiles around at us. “I think that went well. Gentlemen, I suggest we take the rest of the day off. I need to brush my teeth, and I’m sure you have some talking to do.”

And with that parting statement, he walks out of the door. The rest of us follow.
- 4
- 5
- 6
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