The dancefloor was crowded with all kinds of people.
All kinds of men, to be precise.

It was almost classical. You could see men in their late thirties whose midlife crises more than obviously showed in both their desperate attempt to look sexy and in wearing much too tight shirts that might have looked good on them when they were 18. Of course, there also were some of the typical old fairies , hanging around at the bar in order to find some much younger guy to buy a drink for, even if those younger guys never returned their lustfully longing looks. The third species to be found here were those young and sexy boys between 18 and 25 who were having their Saturday night chats and danced the passionate dance of those who knew that, when it came to mating, they could have completely free choice if only they wanted to.

Actually, Mark was one of them.
He had just turned 20 years old, and with his short black hair and slim but yet muscular body he was almost looking like the young Tom Cruise. HE and his boyfriend, Kevin, had been together for more than a year now, and since then, they always stuck together as closely as anyone possibly could, always touching, giving attention and kissing each other just like the moonstruck lovebirds they had been on the day they had first met.

Everybody could tell at first sight that they were just the perfect match, and no one would have believed that Mark could ever have betrayed the boy that he loved more than anything else -- even more than his own life, possibly. No one -- except, of course, for that cute and irresistable blond boy who, only three days ago, had ordered the fatal amount of alcohol that had been the cause for Mark having his brains fucked out later that evening.

On the dancefloor, Mark stripped off his shirt, tightened it to the back of his perfectly fitting Levi's and finally, looked down at his watch in concern. Kevin was late tonight. He should have been here for over half an hour now, but he wasn't.

In fact, he had been held up by quite an interesting video file on the internet, which showed his very own beloved boyfriend naked, horned and (most of all!) being had in positions that Kevin himself didn't even dare to talk about. Some good friend of his had found the file "by pure accident" when he had been surfing the web. Of course, calling Kevin right away had been his duty as a real friend. After all, he definitely had the right to see the naked truth about his (also extremely naked) lover.

But of course, Mark didn't know about any of this. Not yet, anyway.

The extatic house beat made his internals vibrate with passion, and his bare chest slowly covered with sweat as the in-fading piano chords announced some club remix of "Total Eclipse Of The Heart". Soon enough, he would realize how much of an eclipse there was going to be tonight. The stage was already perfectly set, and it was just about time for the main character to enter for his big scene.

`Turn around...' the ghostly voice blasted from out of the huge speakers. And Mark did. He turned around just in time to see Kevin step onto the dancefloor. His faced openly showed all his confusion and all the tears he had already cried on his way here, and the fact that he was still wearing a black polo shirt and some pair of worn out jeans gave away that, obviously, he had been too confused to even dress up for the party.

The beat set in, and with it the continuously flashing white lights that provided some kind of surreal mute movie sensation over the highly emotional and yet tragic scenario. `... and i need you more than ever...' Finally, they stood face to face. Eye to eye. Both the sweat on Mark's chest and the tears on Kevin's face beautifully glistened in the bright light as the dark shadow of realization fell on Mark's face.

And Kevin spoke, sobbingly gathering all the strength there was left in him, to ragingly express his disappointment and disgust about what he had seen on the internet. His partly naked boyfriend started to shake with guilt and dispair, as he -- just like many of the close-by standing witnesses -- was forced to listen to the one and only boy he loved, crying out into his face how sick and perverted he was and that he never wanted to see him again. `... now I'm only falling apart...'

It was almost even touching to see Mark's helpless attempts to take Kevin in his arms and calm him down. He was already crying himself, and when his boyfriend finally slapped his cheek and bashed towards the door, Mark finally buried his face in his hands and sobbingly broke down.

Romeo had fallen. Fallen and gone down, crying the tears of his broken heart to the mildly phosphorizing floor he was now kneeling on as the world around him slowly faded into numbness. `... nothing I can do, a total eclipse of the heart.'

"Perfection!" I worshiped myself with my arms wide open in a god-like pose, still looking down from about 4 meters above the crowd.

"Wow!" My best friend, Craig, slightly turned to me, his eyes still focused on the scene of my greatest triumph so far. "Now, THAT was amazing!"

"I know." I replied. "Took me one hell of a planning to make it work that way."

Craig wanted to add something, but he held back when he heard my mobile ringing, blasting from out of my pocket.

Now, don't get me wrong; I've never been the type to fish for attention by turning it loud enough to easily be heard throughout the noise of a crowded discotheque. In fact, I've always preferred things the decent way. Decent, yet cool.

My outfit -- low-cut black jeans, a tight fitting blue shirt and an also black jeans jacket to go with it -- was more than just good looking, and my haircut -- wildly styled up with enough gloss to spread a bright, classy shimmer over its deep black color -- was just what the word "perfect" was invented for.

In short terms: I surely didn't have to hide from the worlds eyes!

But, speak about hiding... let me just give you a short summary of who I am:

My name is Scott. Scott Morell. I was born on October 31st in 1981, pathetic as it may sound, right in the middle of some Halloween party. My mother had dressed up as Rosemary (from that early Roman Polanski movie, you know, the one with the baby), which had been quite a wise decision as her pregnancy had been too obvious at the end of the 9th month to freely choose some Morticia Addams kind of styling.

However, although I don't really think that she had actually planned me to be born that very night, it must have been the most impressing scene that any human being had ever set up.

Even years later, she still kept talking about that party over and over again. I guess, she simply loved the part about Jim Steinman's "Bad For Good" blasting from the stereo in the living room while she, Rosemary, had been giving birth to her baby boy on the kitchen table because the ambulance hadn't arrived in time and my father had been busy banging some cheap Cleopatra in the back yard. Et voilą! My big birth scene, like, `Enter Scott!'. The perfect first act to the exclusive stage production that was to be my life, hillariously acted out without even any rehearsals.

Now, I know that some of you may find this way too odd, but to me, my ever stronger growing urge to devotedly continue that play has always been the most natural thing on earth since then. In 1990, I had given a pretty good impression of being sexually abused by my math teacher, so that he had finally got fired and his substitute had felt himself forced to clearly insist on not insisting on me doing my homework if I didn't `feel like it'. And at the age of 16, I had come out of the closet to my whole High School in our school production of "Romeo and Juliet" when I, playing the part of Romeo, had decided to intensively embrace and kiss Bevolio, played by the captain of the football team, rather than acting this out with Juliet.

You see, life really is a stage. At least, mine is -- and always has been.

A few years later, on College, I had finally met Craig in my drama class. We had been riding the same wave from the second we'd met, and I always liked to think of him as some sort of my 2nd cast. He was almost one year older than myself, and he always had a truely remarkable eye for stylistic details and climatic turns.

>From the first day on, we had been the `dream team', setting up and manipulating situations all around us and always challenging each other, pushing each other further to new heights of perfecting our scenes. I had never even imagined to find such an intelligent, thoughtful and also stylish friend in a straight guy like him. But then, he would hopefully never stop surprising me.

Tonight, I had taken him to the "Downfall", the most popular gay club in town, to witness my (without any doubt) biggest and most impressive set-up, so far. Working title: "Total Eclipse".

And it had been amazing. Honestly, I, myself, was more than overwhelmed with the effectfully played `breaking-up scene' of Mark Andrews and Kevin Sanders. It had been so exciting. So tense. So... REAL!

Actually, my eyes still focused Mark, who was still sobbingly crying his heart out, now accompanied by two strangers who had picked him up from the floor and helped him to one of the bar chairs. Both of them were probably at least about 35 years old, and obviously, they didn't waste much time ordering strongly alcoholic cheer-ups for the freshly broken hearted 20 year old.

"Hey Craig." I turned to my best friend who also couldn't help but keep watching. "Do me a favour and keep watching those guys while I answer the phone, will ya? If they try anything fishy on Mark, help him out and bring him here, okay?"

"'Course, man!" He answered. "But why do you care about how...."

"Just do it, `k? I'll explain later. Promise."

And so, Craig turned to the lower floor again while I got out my mobile and answered my call.

"You did quite a good job, dude." I grinningly told the boy on the phone, and he stumblingly answered something like "blah-blah-blah... only for you... blah-blah... love you... blah-blah-blah... see you again?"

"'Course you will." I replied. "'Sides, I'm not gonna forget `bout your reward. Don't worry."

When I hung up, Craig threw me an amused glance.

"Now, lemme guess..." His right hand thoughtfully fumbled at his chin, but the far more than bright grin on his handsome, male face gave him away immediately.

"Yeah, right." I was grinning, too. "That was Mr. `I-fucked-Mark-cause-I'm-head-over-heels-with-Scott'."

As I rolled my eyes, we both chuckled with laughter untill suddenly, Craig held his breath and suspiciously looked into my eyes.

"Now, Scottie, why don't you finally fill me in?"

"Fill you in?" The already bright grin on my face even widened. "And I always thought you weren't into that `fag stuff'..."

"Aw, come on!" He playfully cuffed my shoulder. "You know what I mean, dude! What's the deal with Kevin and Mark? Why them?"

"Okay... remember the boy I was makin' out with, `bout a year and a half ago?"

"Uh-huh." He nodded his head. "You mean the one I never got to meet because..."

"...BECAUSE the little brat finished me off after only two weeks. Exactly!" I fiercely hissed. "He kept whinig `bout not being ready for a gay relationship and always told me how afraid he was that his parents would find out about him doing it from behind."

Craig's eyes met mine to give me an enlightened look.

"Kevin Sanders." He fascinatedly said. "Now, that explains why you had to find someone else for that little online show with his boyfriend."

I nodded my head in agreement. "And guess what happened only a week after we broke up!"

"Well, he made up with Mark, I suppose."

"FUCKIN' RIGHT HE DID!" I burst out shouting much louder and even more hateful than I had intended to.

Craig held his breath, staring at me with wide open eyes. Obviously, my sudden loss of control had taken him by surprise, too. But nevertheless, it was true. Kevin Sanders, the boy I had been after for more that a year, the one I had been dreaming of and painfully longing for almost each and every single night back then, had left me after only two weeks, and thinking about that black day still almost made me explode with burning rage.

It had been the most humiliating day of my young life, the day my favourite toy had decided to find someone else to play with it... and, of course, the day I had sworn to make him pay. Pay for the hole that he had left my heart with, for the many endless nights when all I could do was just cry myself to sleep. Yes, I had promised myself to make him pay for what he had done to me, and now was the time to set up the charge.

`Don't leave me this way...' Jimmy Summerville whined through the air, and I finally took a deep breath and got out my cigarettes as Craig sipped on his Long Island Ice Tea.

"But what's Mark got to do with all that?" he finally asked. "How does he fit in?"

"It's as simple as that." I answered, my voice perfectly under control again. "He tore out my heart, and now I'm gonna tear out his."

"But..." Craig started, but I interrupted him when I looked at my watch.

"Sorry man, gotta go." I quickly said with my wickedly boyish grin back on my face. "Wait here. And better order an extra drink. We're gonna have a guest."

Amusedly ignoring the confusion on his face, I rushed off and headed towards the exit. After all, I didn't want to be late for my appointment in that far-off corner of the parking lot, which was going to be about the most important part of today's show.

I opened the big metal door, stepped out into the nighty darkness and lit the cigarette I had held in my hands for several minutes now. Deeply inhaling the smoke, I let my head fall back and closed my eyes.

It was unbelievable! Even here, about 50 meters away from where the action obviously just started, I could clearly hear Mark's voice lustfully moaning and weakly protesting at the same time. I silently approached the scene and finally hid behind an old van that was parked less than 5 meters away from him and his company.

The two older guys from the bar had most obviously gotten him where they had intended him to be -- outside, horned... and drunk. He was completely defenseless, and tears of shame and helplesness were running down his adorable young face. One of the two men had a tight grip on his body from behind, whereas the other one had just brutally pulled down Mark's Levi's and now slowly reached for the spot between their victim's legs.

The more I saw his naked body shake with fear and emotional pain, the more I triumphantly realized my plan to be working. All I had to do now was wait a few more seconds. Just a few.

The man in front of Mark grabbed him by his shoulders and forcefully pushed him down on his knees. His face was only inches apart from the guy's zipper, when I determinedly shook the broad winning grin off from my face and bashed out of my hiding.

"Hey, what's going on here?" I shouted loudly.

The guys' heads quickly sprung around to face me in both pretended surprise and the sudden, highly realistic shock of being caught, but Mark only kept kneeling there on the asphalt, too drunk and confused to even realize what was happening.

"Shit!" one of the men cursed, instantly followed by the other one hissing "Let's get outta here!"

They had already vanished into the nearby bushes before I reached Mark, carefully helped him up to his feet and pulled up his Levi's to get him dressed again. The top button had sprung off during the action that I had just interrupted, I guess, but the others were tight enough so that we didn't have to worry about him losing his jeans on our way back inside.

"Who... are you?" he sobbingly asked from underneath his tears.

"I'm Scott." I answered. "Scott Morell."

"You... I... they did..." A new rush of tears burst out of him, and I softly took him in my arms and padded his head to comford him.

"It's okay now." I caringly whispered. "They're gone."

He gave me the look of a thankful puppy as I swung my right arm around his waist to help him back inside where, hopefully, Craig would already be waiting with the drinks.

God, it was just perfect!

"Fuck, Scott! What happened to that boy?"

Craig instantly jumped up from the red leather of the half round corner booth he had occupied for the three of us. He was really remarkable! Each and every line on his handsome face was carved with what, even at second sight, could clearly be defined to be the spontaneous expression of honest shock and deep concern. Brilliant!

I helped Mark to sit down, carefully pushed him over to the center of the booth, took place on the right side, opposed to Craig, and said "Mark here was attacked by two older guys. Tried to rape him, I guess."

"Yeah..." Mark commented dreamily. "'n Scott r'scued me. H's a hero, y'know."

"Sure he is, kid." Craig grinningly rolled his eyes to underline his sarcasm. "You should just see him ride that little white horse of his."

I shot an annoyed glance across the table and my lips mutely barked `Stop it!'. But Mark didn't seem to realize any of this. The tears on his face had already dried up and made way for that far away look of inner peace and -- above all -- way too much alcohol.

"Yeah..." he whispered again and skidded closer to me to lovingly press his cheek against mine.

God, I had been right! That boy really DID behave like a puppy. And a pretty affectionate one, too! I only hoped that he was not half as outgoing when he was sober. You see, that's generally the problem with drunken people.They are, like, out of control, and furthermore, it's much more complicated to make them play the part they're supposed to play.

But of course, that wasn't a problem this time. On the contrairy, it couldn't have run better. Mark flung his arms around me -- a little uncoordinated, maybe -- and closed his eyes, softly humming along with Mariah Carey's "Hero", to which several couples swayingly hugged and kissed on the dancefloor.

Slowly, I let my hand run across Mark's cheek, and he purred like a cat when he lifted his head and opened his eyes to make them meet mine.

"Scott" he said, "I can't tell ya how..."

"Shhh..." I softly interrupted him by putting one of my fingers on his sweet, reddish lips. "Let's go home, okay?"

He slowly nodded his head yes -- that thankful look still made his eyes glow from the bright lights -- and when I finally kissed him, I felt a stream of sudden tears, forming around our mouths and changing its path from his face to mine.

"You'll never leave me alone, will you?" he asked me, and his voice suddenly sounded as sober and clear thinking as he would probably be in almost 3 or 4 hours.

I took him in my arms, hugged him tightly and ran my hand through his short dark hair, letting him cry on my shoulder for a few seconds before I answered "No, Mark. I'll never leave you alone again. Promise!"

Craig, who had meanwhile started a conversation with a couple of boys at the table next to ours, stood up first, and Mark and I followed him through the crowd, arm in arm. Gee, if only Kevin had still been here to see Mark and myself leave the "Downfall" like a fresh couple! He sure would have loved the sight of his (now) ex-boyfriend kissing my neck and softly caressing my face as I unlocked the back door of my Ford.

"Get in, honey." I whispered in his ear, before I gave him a long and intensive kiss again and, in a soft but determined way, slowly pushed him into the back seat. He had already leaned back and closed his eyes when I closed the door, turned to Craig and demonstratively whiped Mark's kiss from my mouth with the back of my right hand.

"He's staying with us tonight." I said.

Craig and me had been sharing a 3-room-appartment for more than a year now, since we both still went to college and none of us was very keen on living on campus. Of course, neither did any of us want to stay at their parents' house.

"No sweat." He grinningly answered. "How long will he be staying?"

I shrugged. "Don't know. As long as it takes, I guess."

"What's your plan?"

Before I answered, I shot a quick glance through the back seat window. Mark's eyes were still closed, and his chest was peacefully moving up and down. He had fallen asleep.

"I'm gonna make him want me, dude." I said. "I'm gonna make him long for me, hard and painful enough to make him wish he would die, and then, I'm gonna break him. Just like Kevin tried to break ME!"

My voice was drained with both hate and excitement, but my face remained cold and expressionless.

"Don't you think that Kevin willl possibly change his mind and want him back?" Craig asked me with a bright, teasing grin.

"Of course he will." I shrugged. "But don't worry, I already thought about that one. Mark's with ME now, and Kevin won't get a chance for more than a first row ticket to watch me destroy the boy he loves. Believe me, there's nothing he can do about it!"

"Lucky him!" Craig answered smuggly. "Me, I wouldn't wanna miss it!"

"You won't." The stones of the parking lot crunched under my feet as I walked around the car and opened the driver's door. "Now get in, will ya? I just can't wait to get to the fun part!"

When Craig had sat down and closed the door behind him, I started the engine and turned on the cd player. My face widened with a wicked smile as I looked into the rear view mirror and saw Mark peacefully sleeping in the back seat. He didn't know what was lying ahead of him, nor did he hear Cher singing "...Baby, save up your tears, cause you'll be crying over me!"

But then, saving up his tears wouldn't help him, either!