Once there I change, helped into my corset by the lovely neuromantik, and wander out to dance. The evening starts in a slightly lacklustre manner, and I am more tired by the moment. I'm beginning to wish I hadn't come, but as soon as I think this, a gaggle of fangirls arrives, and in the middle of their fluttering arms and admiration is Mr. Jason Atomic from Fist Fuck Deluxe, a truly extraordinarily beautiful creature. So I hold off going home just for a while, and on a whim decide to do a 'cuteness sweep' of the club, just in case anyone else pretty has arrived while I was looking elsewhere.
I wander through, wincing at the number of trendies and the number of goths with beards (why?), and after locating the Atomic party and smiling at him holding court among his loved-up children of the revolution, I pretty much give up. There's no-one else - or is there?
As I turn to walk back towards the dancefloor I glance up at the bar and barely manage not to stop dead and just gape. The suit, the hair, the slightly angular face; I'd know him anywhere, right now. Mike, from Manuskript. The rest of the band appear in quick succession. I gather my thoughts and pass on as normally as a six foot girl in a big skirt and corset can, before running over to neuromantik and squeaking a lot.
Later, having seen him get on the dancefloor for 'Big In Japan', I will give in to temptation and request 'Rock Me Amadeus', just to see him again. Even later, as he brushes past me, I will introduce myself and chat for a bit.
I'm glad I went.
Sleep now, though.