Part 1
The first time I saw him in person was on New Year's Eve 1998. All over the city of Sydney, thousands of parties were in full swing. My plans at first were to cruise the main streets and find a party I liked and felt comfortable at, but during the afternoon I received a phone call from my close friend Terence, otherwise known as Tez. To bring in the New Year, a large concert was being held at Centennial Park, complete with a fireworks display as soon as the clocks chimed midnight. Terence and a group of our friends wanted me to accompany them. This option sounded better than party-hopping. As much as I was used to navigating my way around the city alone, it would be very crowded and it was best to practice safety in numbers. And since we had an agreed location to go to, it was even better.
That afternoon Tez and our circle of friends arrived at my house to pick me up. When I opened the door to greet them, I found myself face-to-face with grown men covered head-to-toe in glitter and leather. The African-American Tez had taken the change one step further and rinsed temporary pink dye through his smooth black hair. To complete the look, he'd had novelty contact lenses inserted, displaying a small pair of yellow smiley faces. Upon seeing the look of amazement on my face, he began to laugh as he made his way inside my house, giving me a friendly peck on the cheek as he passed. Tez and I had never been romantically coupled, nor would we ever be, but Tez was a serial flirt and also liked to show his affections, so hugs and kisses never bothered me.
"Oh, come on, you're not going out in that, are you?" another friend Ryan asked, lowering his dark sunglasses to give my clothes a disapproving once-over. "This is a party, baby, not a funeral!"
"I prefer 'Smart Casual' to 'Mardi Gras', thank you very much!" As I said so, I glanced in the wall mirror at my long-sleeved black shirt and my fitted black jeans. When I compared my choice of clothing to their colourful, flamboyant threads, I was a tad underdressed.
Tez took it upon himself to dress me in more suitable attire. Dropping his fur-covered, lime green coat into an armchair, he walked into my bedroom and critically examined the contents of my wardrobe. I leant against a bedpost and watched him in amusement, with my hands on my hips, while our friends scattered themselves around the room.
"Boring...Derelict...Prime Minister...Garbage Collector..." were just a few of his short and to-the-point verdicts on every item of clothing that he tossed over his shoulder. Just when I thought there couldn't possibly be anything more he could pull out, besides cobwebs, his hand emerged holding a sequin-studded shirt I thought i'd thrown out years ago. The shirt was white with black and silver sequins carefully arranged to form the shape of an eagle in mid-flight. I hadn't worn it in a long time, but considering the occasion, it looked quite appropriate.
"Oooh!" Tez swivelled around and held the shirt against my chest, taking a small step back. "How could you let this little beauty hibernate way back there?"
"So it's okay?" I asked, a little unsure. I'd grown so accustomed to wearing casual clothes such as plain shirts and jeans that having a shirt like this felt somewhat alien.
Tez draped the shirt over my shoulder and grinned widely. "Darlings, sequins never go out of fashion. Trust me. Now put it on and we'll start with the glitter."
It must've been the party spirit that influenced my consent to their makeover. I exited the house looking possibly as outrageous as them, but also outrageous in my own way. No matter how much makeup they could've caked onto me, I still couldn't pull it off as well as they could. They seemed to be born for cosmetics. Still, the transformation was interesting, and surprisingly good. I would never have had the courage to do it myself. That's what I loved about my friends - when I didn't have the bottle to do something, they would help me, and the results were usually fantastic.
We squeezed into Tez's car and drove into the city, parking a couple of blocks away from Centennial Park. A lot of eager partygoers had arrived early to ensure the best views of the stage. As we arrived at the park, waving and camping it up with complete strangers, Tez found his brother Marc in the crowd beginning to form in front of the stage. Luckily Marc had arrived earlier than anyone and had placed a blanket right next to their spot - which, to our delight, was front row center. With our inconspicuous black bottles in our hands and police whistles around our necks on a chain, we made our way through the crowd, attracting quite a lot of attention. Tez, Marc and our friends did most of the work while I stayed in between them, barely controlling my laughter.
Four hours later, as the hands of the clock ticked towards 11pm, the concert was in full swing, and there was a sea of Sydney ravers flowing behind us. The music was mainly rock, pop and dance, though occasionally they sneaked in some jazz, heavy metal and swing. We could see no trouble being brewed up around us - everyone seemed to be too busy having a good time. The security guards on the surrounds of the crowd didn't appear to be doing much except standing there and casting a watchful eye on anyone who looked like they were having too much of a good time.
As a dance duo left the stage with the crowd cheering their approval, the lights onstage went out and the Emcee made his next introduction:
"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage...Paul McDermott!"
Instantly the crowd roared their appreciation. Strobe lights flashed quickly onstage as the band began to play, and in between each flash I could see a short male figured running towards the microphone at the center of the stage. A spotlight fell on him, and I raised my head - to find myself looking up at the most beautiful man i'd ever seen. He had shoulder-length brown hair, green eyes and a slim body. He was wearing a quarter-sleeved, blank lycra shirt with small, pointy studs placed around the circumference of the sleeves, blank pants with similar studs down the sides of the legs and black leather boots. He, like my friends and I, wore mascara, bright eyeshadow and dark lipstick. As the band made their intro to the song, he removed the microphone from its stand, looked down at me and gave me a wink before launching into the song.
"How does it feel to treat me like you do?
When you've laid your hands upon me
And told me who you are
I thought I was mistaken
I thought I heard your words
Tell me, how do I feel?
Tell me now, how do I feel?
Those who came before me lived through their vocations
From the past until completion they'll turn away no more
And I still find it so hard
So say what I need to say
But i'm quite sure that you'll tell me
Just how I should feel today..."
As he sang, the audience jumped in time with the music, with their hands thrust into the air. In between lyrics, he teased the crowd, enticing and seducing them. He was a born superstar, knowing just how and where to pleasure them and make them squirm. It wasn't something that could be learned. He would drop to his hands and knees and creep slowly towards the edge of the stage like a cat on the prowl, or let his lips brush against the microphone, the tip of his tongue gently dragging along its rough surface. People in the crowd, both men and women, reached their arms out to him as far as they could, shouting out to him and being drawn in by his moves and his voice. He was a singer the likes of which i'd never seen before, and i'd been to a lot of concerts. He was born for this, this was where he belonged, and everyone in the park knew it, even him.
He sang four more songs, including a song he'd written himself entitled "Happiness". With each song I found myself falling for him deeper and deeper. When he ended his last song and left the stage, I felt sad in a way - for me, it only felt like the beginning. No other singer had ever had such an effect on me. I had fallen under his spell, not willing to be broken out of it. I wanted to see him, hear him, maybe even touch him if I could.
I had to meet him.
Part 2