Josquin: Missa Pange Lingua - 1. Kyrie.
That was the piece of music I played Paul on what was to be our last night together, although I did not know this important fact at the time. I had been DJ-ing at The Hip Hop club late and it was my birthday. We hadn't seen each other for a while, due to him being a real shit to me weeks earlier. Suddenly his beautiful face was beaming at me over the barrier that separated the punters and the booth. He seemed happy but his eyes betrayed the drugs he was consuming.
Having waited for hours for me to finish, it was only natural we should go back to mine.
In bed, with the Josquin piece playing, candles lit , after sex.
`Want to talk to you` came up from the noise of the room. However it was me that didn't want to talk. He was a strange boy, and thinking it another one of his dreams, I feigned sleepiness , kissing him on the neck, trying to keep myself from falling into another one of his traps.
I can't remember when we both finally slept but it was late. The night still pulsating all around us, I must have dreamt of happier days with this beautiful child, a long way from home.
Needing to be at work on time for once, the best thing was not to rouse him in the morning. I left silently, leaving him a note to meet me that night at Meltdown to keep celebrating my birthday.
That morning, Paul dressed in my clothing, went to work, left work
and threw himself under a train.
