Sweat + Buckles = Friends?

Part II

Fast forward a couple of nights and it's the end of yet another successful show. Walking back through the backstage area with the boys I am barely listening to the chatter. I'm too busy thinking, it's weird how quickly I got used to being Rammstein's PA. Most of the time I work with Till because that's how my contract works but I'm always happy to help the other guys out too, there's a sense of family to it. Oli once told me that he never thought he would see the day when a member of crew would ride in the same bus as them, he always thought it would throw off the energy of the group but he was happy I fit in so well.

My musings are interrupted by the sound of Paul who is arguing with Till, "You practically stood in front of the damn thing Till! Look at you, you're a brighter shade of red than a lobster!"

Looking at him now, I could see Paul was right, Till was burnt to hell. When had that happened?

"It's not that bad, there have been worse instances." Till shrugged, but I saw how that small action hurt him.

"Not that bad? I could hear you screaming over everything else!" Paul said, clearly frustrated.

"Paul." I said gently, "Getting frustrated won't help."

A part of me was horrified, how in the name of hell had I missed the sound of Till screaming in pain? Worse still, why had I not noticed the state he was in immediately as he came off the stage?

The other four had been quiet, something I learned early on was that when Paul took Till to task on something the others would leave him to it. Usually Paul was very justified in whatever he was saying and tonight was no different but getting worked up over it would not be beneficial for anyone.

Paul was looking at me with a pleading in his eyes, I knew what he was trying to ask.

"I'll fix this, promise."

As we went our separate ways, I walked with Till to his dressing room. The second we were in I went into the old days mode, when I was there to help him out of sweat drenched clothing.

This time was different though, it was important to be gentle. "Till, this is probably going to hurt a little, possibly a lot."

He just shrugged, seemingly indifferent. I had never known him to be like this after a show and I was concerned but I kept it to myself for the time being.

I concentrated on getting him out of the stage clothes and carefully towelling off the sweat, the towels stained with the makeup that had been used on his arms. I used the wipes I carried with me to get rid of the makeup that had ran and stained his face, being careful not to snag his piercings.

Once I had cleaned him up a little, I gently took his wrist and inspected his arms. Nothing to write home about really, it looked more like sunburn than first or second degree burns which was always a plus. I did notice the slight bumps I had learnt to recognise as blisters and with the sheer heat coming from him, I suspected we'd be seeing a substantial case of heat rash too.

All the while he just stood there, silent. Usually I at least got some banter or even a rant about someone being incapable of doing their job, but only if something went wrong during the show. Nothing. Not a single word.

I opened my mouth to speak but I couldn't force anything out, it wouldn't have mattered anyway. He was staring, blankly, straight ahead if him, like he had a tendency to do onstage when he was not required to sing or do anything.

I moved away to the wardrobe to grab him some clothes. There was a white dress shirt hanging up and a pair of jeans but I reached for the shorts that were hanging up behind them. The last thing he needed to be wearing right now was anything tight or form-fitting. I laid the shorts on the chair in front of the mirror then unbuttoned the white shirt and took a few steps towards him. When it became clear he wasn't going to take it from me and put it on himself, I went around the back of him and slid his arms into the sleeves. When I went back around the front to fasten the buttons he looked down at me and smiled a little, not like the ones I had come to know and love. This one seemed to be saying something he couldn't quite give voice to yet. I knew that, given time, he would be ready to talk to me, it was important not to push him.