finally got my hands on a copy of the movie -- vhs, someone must've discovered the greatness that is VG and snagged my dvd. so this originally one-sided view has thus become two views upon memory refreshment.

the great "Piss off! Go on, then --..." line is straight from VG, dear Todd Haynes' child. not mine.-sigh-

-----a---t-o-r-t-u-o-u-s---h-a-r-d-s-h-i-p-----

Chapter Ten: "True Form"

Maxwell Demon.

So much was packed into those two words, that one name.

Maxwell Demon, the sparkly blue alien who came to Earth from outer space. The glam rock messiah.

Brian Slade's alter ego.

Maxwell Demon, who killed away the Brian Slade everyone once knew.

The Brian Slade Curt Wild and Mandy Slade had once loved, had thought they knew so intimately.

(Truth was, Brian always kept something secret.)

"The Brian Slade I knew would've fuckin' stuck up for me back there in the studio!" Curt raged. He stood at one side of the bedroom, Brian stood across from him -- well, Brian's body stood across from him, but he was quite certain that very little remained Brian Slade. That fiendish bastard Maxwell was now the dominant personality.

"I still am the Brian you knew!" There -- that was Brian, with desperation written in his wide blue eyes. But then it was gone.

"No," Curt said simply. "You're not. Not anymore.

"Look, Bri. I want to stay. I want to stay with you. But you're not you anymore. You've lived the life of Maxwell-fucking-Demon for so long it's gone to your head."

"What the fuck do you know?" Brian shouted, jumping to the defensive. "Who the fuck are you to tell me who or what I bloody well am? Some junky fairy? Some spastic product of an American trash trailer park? A little bitch who was fucked over by his brother? Fuck you, Curt. You have no fucking right to tell me a bloody thing. I saved your pathetic career! You were floundering in your post-junky shit with nowhere to go and I picked you up and gave you a new life, a second chance!"

"I found someone to love!" Curt felt the word slash into his throat as he spat it out without thought. Love. Love was such a cruel bitch. It'd hurt him bad. And he'd been fool enough to fall and let it happen again. He turned and punched the wall behind him with a shout, venting just a slight bit of the excess anger he was feeling. He fished out his cigarettes from his pocket and jerkily lit one. He took a long drag, hoping it would calm him, just a fraction. If it didn't, he was bound to flip and do something he might very well later regret. He looked back at Brian, who stood with his arms folded over his chest, blue eyes cold and calculating. Maxwell's eyes. Curt shook his head, running a hand back through his long blond hair.

"This isn't just Maxwell, is it? It's just the true you in a new 'body'. Brian Slade -- the Brian I knew, that I... He was just a fuckin' daydream, huh? Do you even know who the hell the real you is anymore?"

"You're cracked, Curt. Absolutely fuckin' out there." Brian saw the flames leap up with his words as Curt narrowed his currently dark, cold grey-green eyes.

"I don't know you." Curt's voice was slightly odd. He kept it controlled, his expression neutral. But inside he was a conflicted tempest, caught between uncontrollable rage and overwhelming hurt at another earth-shattering betrayal.

"This is what it's come to then." Brian's voice could have frozen over hell.

"Yeah. I'm leaving."

"Get out then."

Curt looked up, shocked by that. But he quickly schooled his expression back to its core of anger. "I don't fuckin' know what the fuck's happened to you, but I don't know you anymore."

"Shut up your fuckin' shit!" His voice broke, just slightly. Curt was far beyond sympathy of any sort. He had gathered his black leather duster from the chair beside the door and flung it on as he stormed out, ignoring Brian completely.

As he burst out the back door, he heard Brian fling up his window.

"Piss off! Go on, then -- back to your wolves! Your junky twerps! Your bloody shock treatment! AND FUCK YOU, TOO!"

Curt didn't acknowledge him. He saw Mandy standing there out of the corner of his eye as he surged past. She stood silent, witness to the whole mess. Good for her. She could go comfort the bastard.

Right now, Curt needed a vacant room to rip the hell out of and a good supply of alcohol.

And not to cry. If he did, he'd never stop.

------------------

Brian stood watching Curt Wild's retreating form. He hadn't even looked back. Brian could feel the hot tears that had stung his eyes as he acted so cold build, feel the impossible burning in his cheeks. The cool night breeze caressed his face, almost as if in sympathy.

He saw Mandy, just standing there. How dare she, he thought, and slammed down the window. He backed away, numb. It was over. It was all falling apart. All that he had loved -- that had made him. It was all going to bloody hell in a fucking handcart. Mandy had been alienated long ago. Curt was gone. And he couldn't come back, regardless of if Brian wanted him to or not. Brian was Maxwell Demon. Maxwell Demon was fame. It was the attention Brian so desperately craved, as bad as Curt had for a fix. And while Brian Slade loved Curt -- because honestly, he did -- he just couldn't let that fame fall away.

And so Brian Slade fell back across his bed, and wondered what the hell he was going to do, all the while steeling himself for the coldness he knew he was going to have to project. He couldn't at that moment know how that coldness was one day going to go straight to his soul.

(The line in the page break is from "Tumbling Down" by Jonathan Rhys-Meyers and the Venus in Furs)