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Klavier had dressed like he already was in mourning.
Practice makes perfect, after all.
The only thing colourful on him was a tiny brightly patterned package he held in his hands like it was a lifeline.
Everything else was black, black, black.
Black Blazer, black shirt, black trousers, black shoes, black wristwatch ticking away the time his brother still had left on this earth.
He was mourning for someone still alive.
A soft sigh escaped him and the guard looked at him curious – Klavier turned on a smile like he had flicked a switch, which made the guard look at him with even more interest.
The more steps he took to the room his brother was waiting in for him, the more he felt like he would vomit.
The steps he took and the ticking of his wristwatch seemed deafening loud and he felt like he forgot how to breath, his heart fluttered in his chest and he was sure he would faint.
A part of him longed for the bliss of oblivion.
He grabbed the little package harder.
Breath in, breath out, swallow and don‘t forget to smile, smile, smile.
Smile like you mean it.
The guard opened up his brother‘s cell and Klavier stepped in.
His brother sat at a set table, the two plates were hidden by two porcelain domes.
Kristoph sat at his table with a relaxed grace and opened up his arms, his palms facing upwards - for a second Klavier had to think of Jesus from Da Vincis last supper.
He swallowed, the fake smile never leaving his face, never reaching his eyes.
„I am glad you came.“
His brother‘s voice seemed to ring a bell in Klaviers heart and his forced smile faltered.
He did not answer, instead he sat down opposite of Kristoph.
Kristoph‘s twin smile faltrered also and he sighed.
The tone of his voice became soft, like Klavier had heard it so often during his childhood:
„If you cannot stomach to take the last supper with your brother you shouldn‘t have come. It would have been fine.“
The worry in Kristoph‘s eyes seemed genuine and he felt like the bell would burst.
„I am fine.“
Klavier didn‘t recognize his own voice – it sounded rough, and small.
If his record label could hear him now, they would have not given him the chance of a solo album.
Kristoph laid his hand on Klavier‘s for a short time and squeezed it.
„Thank you.“
He sounded gentle and Klavier felt like he had a dumpling in his throat.
Klavier only nodded as a response.
He tried to think of something to say, but he couldn‘t find any words.
Kristoph looked at him with concerned eyes, but remained silent too.
Klavier felt like he was six again, looking up to his picture perfect brother.
He felt small and afraid and his eyes burned.
Kristoph‘s eyes were still painfully gentle.
„Klavier, I made my peace.“
Their eyes locked; the younger brother let out a shaky sigh.
„And I did not. You are all that`s left of-“
A choked sob escaped his throat, the bell burst and he pressed his hand on his mouth.
Curling up on himself the forced the tears down.
Breath in, breath out, don`t forget to smile.
When he looked up again, he gave Kristoph his perfected billion watt smile.
„Are you hungry?“ For a brief second Klavier wondered how his voice could be this detached from his feelings, he forced that train of thought down too.
Maybe he should have become an actor instead of a singer…
Kristoph cocked his head and smiled – a smile that actually reached his eyes and made Klavier think of a kitchen, way back in Germany…
„I am rather curious how they butchered Mama`s potato salad.“
That let Klavier‘s smile falter; not in a bad way; his smile became less blinding and more bittwesweet.
„I bet it wont`t be a match.“
Kristoph lifted up first Klavier`s dome, then his own.
Under the dome sat two porcelaine plates, laden with potato salad (the frankonian kind, with vinegar and oil, Vielen Dank.) and sausages that looked just a little better than hot dogs.
The brothers locked eyes again and Klavier grinned at his brother mischieviously.
Kristoph just shrugged, but matched his smile.
„At least they got the right salad. Guten Appetit.“
- „Guten Appetit.“
The two ate in silence.
The younger brother let his glance wander around the room his brother had stayed in for the last year – if it wasn‘t for the bars replacing one wall and the bars on the window it looked like a study room. Klavier was sure his brother‘s study in his house would contain the same armchair, the house he would inherit...
He decided to focus on his food. It would be better if he wanted it to stay down.
Klavier thought the salad was not that bad – but the sausages were an insult to the food he grew up with; when he looked at Kristoph‘s plate he saw that he had not eaten much of the sausages either.
„Wenn du nicht aufisst, gibt es keinen Nachtisch.“ [If you don‘t eat up there won‘t be dessert]
Klavier‘s tone was teasing and Kristoph smiled genuinely again.
„What makes you think that there is dessert for us, even if we eat up?“
Klavier put down the fork and the knife next to each other and leaned back in his chair.
„Because it would make a lousy last supper if you did not even get some cake.“
Kristoph shook his head; his voice was very gentle again, as if Klavier would break if he spoke to harshly with him:
„No, it would not be. I am able to break bread with you – they could serve me instant noodle soup and it would still be a feast for me.“
The tears threatened to well up again and Klavier let his hands run over the little package that laid in his lap.
„Wann ist Bescherung, Kris?“ [When can we open the presents, Kris?]
A question he had asked on christmas day since he was old enough to talk.
His brother‘s answer did not change, not even after all those years and it comforted Klavier more than he thought it would.
„After dinner, you have to be patient.“
Kristoph stood up, took Klavier‘s plate and his own and swapped them with a smaller plates – each of them containing a slice of black forest cake.
Klavier‘s eyes lit up and he took the plate and a smaller fork with a giddiness he hadn‘t felt in quite some time.
Kristoph inspected his slice for a second, he seemed to find what he was looking for and cut into it with his fork. He looked very satisfied with himself.
After chewing and swallowing (Kristoph had always been particular with his table manners) he said: „I was not sure what kind of cake I would want… Prince regent cake? Bee sting cake? But you always liked this one best, so I decided to settle for it.“
The cake Klavier had in his mouth seemed to turn to dust, but he swallowed it nevertheless.
„Danke, Kris.“
Kristoph nodded once as an answer and finished his cake. Klavier laid down the fork and pushed his still half full plate away from himself.
Suddenly he could feel the bile rising in his throat.
„How is Vongole?“
Klavier thought about that question for a second.
„She is fine – and very spoilt, I must admit. She is allowed to sleep in my bed...“
he rubbed the back of his neck and could feel the heat rise to his cheeks.
He didn`t want to tell Kris that he had actually bought matching pyjamas for himself and his dog.
Kristoph‘s voice was very warm when he said:
„She has trained you well, didn‘t she?“
He got up again to put the dishes away.
Neither of them had touched their glasses with water.
Kristoph pulled out an envelope from god knows where and laid in to the table.
In his immaculate cursive handwriting he had written Klavier‘s name on it.
„I want you to read this after… ah, after everything is done, yes?“
Klavier nodded, and reached for it – Kristoph was faster and held his hand in an almost painful grip.
„Do you understand? Promise me, Klavier.“
Klavier almost could not find his voice, it sounded strangely distant:
„Ich verspreche es, Kris.“ [I promise, Kris]
Almost instantly his hand was released, Klavier took it and took the colourful box from his lap to lay it on the table.
„Thank you, Klavier.“ Kristoph took it and opened the paper very tidily – the way he had always done.
When Klavier was smaller he hated Kristoph‘s birthdays because it has always taken him ages to open up his presents.
„Have you wrapped it yourself?“
Klavier nodded and he held his breath when Kristoph opened up the little package and took the silk tie out.
It had a purple and light blue pattern on it which made Klavier think of tiny sunrises.
He liked the idea of gifting his brother one last sunrise – so had bought it for him.
Kristoph looked at it in awe and smiled at Klavier – a smile that reached his eyes and took both of them back to a playground in a small german town, a fairy tale castle on a mountain waching over them with dark window-eyes, the sun bleaching both of their hair to a light blonde, sun kissed skin, the smaller brother with bruised knees and a gap toothed smile, the older brother matching him with metal braces showing when he smiled broadly at the younger boy he was pushing up higher, higher on the swing …
„Danke, Klavier.“
Klavier only nodded. He couldn‘t find his voice.
Kristoph stood up, and went over to him, pulling him into a hug; the younger brother allowed himself to be held for a few heartbeats, then slid his arms around his older sibling.
If he could, Klavier thought, he would make this moment everlasting.
The rest of the world be dammned.
Kristoph let go of him and kissed him on his forehead.
„You should go. Klavier, I love you.“
Klavier looked at him with a pained expression, but nodded.
„I love you too, Kris.“
The younger man got up and he gripped the envelope so tightly he could feel the paper crinkle in his hand.
In retrospect Klavier couldn‘t remember how he had left the cell, and the prison; he felt like he could finally breath again after the doors opened and the summer sunset shining in his face.
He didn`t know what blinded him more – the sunlight or the tears steaming down his face.
It would be the last sunset his brother would ever witness.
Klavier had made sure of that.
His execution date was set for tomorrow, but Klavier knew better.
Tonight, in between the guards usual rounds, Kristoph would tie that very tie Klavier had given him to the bars on his window.
He then would proceed to tie a slipknot and - Klavier pressed a hand on his mouth to stop himself from sobbing.
He opened up his car and sat inside, turning on the air conditioning.
The motor purred to life after Klavier had turned his key in the ignition and he left the parking lot of the prison, still sobbing he thew a look back to the prison complex the last member of his family would soon exhale his last breath.
But more important, than Kristoph dying tonight, was the fact that he could leave in his own terms, that he could slip out of this life unseen, and unheard, with the tiniest bit of dignity intact.
Even if it broke Klavier down, to be left again, to lose a brother he only so briefly found again.
But that is how it has to be, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Kristoph said in his head, family comes first.