Party fears two…

From the first time I heard and saw Billy Mackenzie perform that song he had me. Who knows exactly what it’s about? But here’s a fiction which I think might explain it – at least it does for me. If you know nothing of him or how he ended you can read about it if you click here. He would have been 56 this year, the same age as me. RIP Billy Mackenzie, I think that you deserved better.

I think I was born happy and became very disillusioned. I couldn't believe happiness could be taken away from me. Because sometimes I don't want to be on this planet. And other times I want to be one of those smiley, happy people.

Billy Mackenzie

Party Fears Two.

The shed was burning, the flames spluttering high into the cold air. He watched the black smoke rise. ‘Awake me,’ he thought. Time for a shower, he’d phone his brother up afterwards, tell him about the shed and what had happened in there. But first a drink, just a dram or two to wash the smoke from his throat, Dutch courage too, he’d need it when his brother found out what he’d done. There would be trouble, there was always trouble. How he wished he was a singleton, brothers just weren’t worth the bother, not him anyway

He’d always been scared of the other one, his other brother. Well, they were so different; he wasn’t like Billy at all. Gypsy blood, a Vegas wedding and Howard Hughes - his brother was crazy, capable of anything, capable of being anybody. And always smashing things up - cups, plates, faces, lives – it didn’t seem to matter to Billy. Always an excuse, a reason; worse thing was he always believed him. He’d better get that drink before Billy Whizz showed up. He couldn’t face him without a drink.

Going into the house he went directly to the bathroom cabinet. Odd? His pills were gone. The whisky bottle was still there though. Thank God for small mercies. Lifting the glass to his lips he glanced into the mirror and let the liquid heat slide down his throat. He closed his eyes and when he opened them there was Billy Whizz, staring back at him with that irresistible, slightly vacant smile upon his face and he was just about to say something. What would it be this time? Oh, not that again, he was like a broken record. ‘Do you think I'm attractive, Billy, am I beautiful, Billy, am I?’ He watched Billy’s lips soundlessly opening and closing. ‘Please don't start saying that or I'll start believing you and if I start believing you…’ He mouthed.

So, here I am standing still in the bathroom watching him so bloody sly in the mirror. His dark hair falls across his eye as he says that I dress too well; even that slight remark cuts into me like a shark bite. Brothers eh? Opposite sides of the same coin; look at him smiling - he so happy and me so blue. Romany, Vegas, Howard Hughes. Maybe I should never have called him, he always makes me blue. Maybe I should have left him alone where he was and not woken him up. Just look at him - from closer to near. Too close really.

He’s coming closer, nearer all the time. No! Don't turn around. If you do I won't have to look at you and I need to look at you to find what you want, to understand what I see in you. You say it’s wonderful… you say my manners are failing me… you say you’re left feeling ugly…you say – you say – you say. What if this party fears two? Yes, you and I Billy; two parties the same and one. Why don’t you swap with me Billy? Now my manners seem to be failing, apologies, but what's not found is all that I see in you. Why don’t you put yourself in my place Billy? It’s not wonderful, it’s too ugly to live with and I can’t - I never could and I never will. What is it? Are you too scared Billy? Too scared of you?

Awake me!

So I look away from the mirror and maybe I won’t bother with that shower after all. Instead I’ll just have a few more drinks and then take the dogs for a walk. Just a few drinks, such supreme remote control for a man of barely containable emotions… or maybe I’ll take the bottle to the shed and have a lie down.

Billy left the bathroom clutching his bottle. He loved a drink and the drink loved him back. He knew Billy was watching him as he left, still standing still, watching and smiling. Yes, he’d go out to the shed and perhaps have a cigarette. Yes, a fag, his first and last and always and ever.

As he closed his eyes he peered into the bottle and saw himself reflected in the amber liquid. He was turning even bluer… and was that the smell of smoke?