Disclaimer: Velvet Goldmine belongs to Todd Haynes and other people, and I am not among them. This story was made only for fun; I didn't receive anything for it.
Summary: After the visit of Arthur Stuart, Cecil reflects about what he said to the journalist and about what he knew about the personality of Brian.
Ships: It's more gen, but there's mentions of Brian/Cecil, Brian/Curt, Brian/Mandy.
Genre: Angst, character study.
A.N.: English is not my native language, and I should tell you before anything that I wrote this without a beta reader. So, if you want to read, be aware that the following text may have terrible grammatical mistakes. If you see some terrible mistake and wants to warn me, I would gladly accept grammatical tips.
This story is a translation of my own story, originally written in Portuguese.
Chapters: One, complete.
An Elegant Lie
By Mychelle in a Wonderland
"What was he – what was he like?"
The words said hours ago by the journalist still echoed in Cecil's mind.
"He was elegance, walking arm in arm with a lie."
He noticed that he said those words without thinking. He was feeling anxious in having to remember that time of his life, a time that was forgotten, dead and buried so long ago.
But now, alone again, looking at the dirty walls of his room in his wheelchair, Cecil reflected about the meaning of those words.
His first realization was that he was absolutely right. Brian was like that, exactly like that, but he couldn't immediately explain why.
Elegance... indeed, Brian was elegant. Personified elegance.
He noticed that as soon as he set his eyes on Brian in his feminine clothes, when he was being introduced by Mandy in her cheap, but promissory club. He saw that reflected in the young man; besides the obvious talent, he had a natural elegance, in the way that he would whip his long hair during a verse, or by the delicate way that he played his guitar.
Brian was seductive, charming. His elegance would flow even if he was saying something rude or vulgar; his smile, his manners were elegant, even if he didn't want to look like that sometimes. His style always triumphed in the end, and he always conquered everyone around him.
The first night that Cecil put his eyes on Brian, he was completely enamored. Probably for the rest of his life.
And it was so easy to get to him. To introduce himself, to offer his services as a manager, to have his sign asked – he smiles briefly, remembering that Brian always had a fascination for zodiac signs and things like that -; beyond easy, that was fast.
Soon, Cecil saw himself immersed in a world of dreams, pleasure and ambitions, elegance… and lies.
Cecil only discovered the lies bit by bit.
He closed his eyes tightly when he remembered some evidences from the past... like when he signed his deal with Brian and saw that his name was Thomas. Brian simple shrugged and said "I never liked Thomas, Cecil. I prefer to retire Thomas, and live only with Brian."
"But if you're Thomas and you're also Brian, how can I know which one is the one that I know?"
Cecil sighed when he remembered when Brian smiled sweetly and replied "You can't."
And really, Cecil couldn't.
Brian was a lie, and the true signs of the lie that Brian was appeared in a subtle manner and Cecil only noticed too late how much of a fool he was for never seeing it at all.
The way that Brian deceived Mandy, lying shamelessly to her in some aspects, the easy way that he concealed everything, the easy way that he pretended to be someone else; Brian was a perfect actor.
But Cecil was too blinded by passion to notice something. Brian's smiles, his kisses and empty words, lacking any sort of meaning would conquer Cecil with easiness, and his eyes were too tightly closed to notice the continuous discontent of Brian with his presence.
When Brian saw Curt Wild for the first time and fell in love (Brian was fast to deny everything when he was asked, but that was one of the only occasions when Brian's charm didn't fool him), he wanted so despairingly to be like him and so he created Maxwell, was when Cecil should have opened his eyes, but he didn't. Reviewing everything now, he had to admit that every time that Brian spoke about what he would become with Maxwell, how far he would go, how important he would be, he had to admit that the ambition in those eyes were destructively clear.
When Maxwell arrived in Brian's plans, changes happened; now Cecil had to live with three different personas; Thomas, which he never really knew; Brian, his pupil and Maxwell, the person that Brian dreamed of becoming. Soon it became very clear that Cecil wouldn't be able to elevate Brian or Maxwell in the way that he wished.
That was when Jerry Devine got into Brian's life, and Cecil was politely asked to leave.
He remembered the last time that he saw Brian; he, Mandy and Jerry were finalizing the details of the breach of contract of Brian. Jerry and Mandy left, but Brian stayed behind a little longer.
- I think I should wish you luck. – Cecil said, trying to sound casual.
- Do you really? – Brian said, with an enigmatic smile.
- No. You know, I should have seen it coming. It was right in front of me, but I didn't want to see, or to believe
that I would be left behind, even if the truth was perfectly clear from the start.
- The truth is rarely pure and never simple; I don't blame you, Cecil – Brian said, but his tone wasn't a tone of voice of someone apologizing – which he wasn't doing, really.
- Oscar Wilde would be proud of you – Brian smiled, and Cecil continued – But I don't blame you either, and even sounding false, I will say: good luck, Brian.
Brian nodded, always polite, and then left. And just like he said then, he thought now that he told the truth; he didn't blame Brian. Brian could have been an elegant lie, but why would he blame him for it? At least Brian's cynicism was, in all of his sophisticated illusion, pure and genuine.
Cecil was an accidental victim, one of the people that Brian used and later discarded, but Cecil didn't have a grudge for it. Brian deserved to fly high, and Cecil wasn't capable to make him get so far away, and he always knew it.
As he drummed the wheels of his chair, Cecil smiled to himself, thinking about how accurate was the description that he gave the journalist earlier; the elegance, walking arm in arm with a lie.
The best and most lethal lie of Cecil's life, that he would regret and be proud of, for every day for the rest of his life.