Michael Hutchence's best pal Rhett tells of his year of torment following the tragedy that ended his beloved brother's life
The memories burn as brightly as the tears that moisten Rhett Hutchence's eyes. In his shaking hands a tattered and faded green notebook, a dire warning sceawled across it's front cover in bold letters: It is forbidden to read this! The pages reveal the innermost thoughts of Rhett's brother Michael, a brash teenager with a plan to "start my own strategy for world domination - I'm serious."
As the charasmatic lead singer of Australian rock band INXS, Michael was rock's superstar for the 80's. But as quickly as the book sees daylight, it's spirited back to it's hdiding place. For Rhett, some memories are still too raw to expose to public scrutiny.
As the November 22 anniversary approaches of Michael's lonely suicide in a Sydney hotel suite, Rhett is still mourning the "brother in arms" with whom he travelled the world and openly indulged in the heady sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll lifestyle.
Rhett reveals that in the days following Michael's untimely death at 37, he sneaked into the hotel room and scoured it for a suicide note or any tangible proof that Michael knew of the lingering hurt he would leave for his family, his partner Paula Yates, 39, and their now two year old daughter, Heavenly Hiranni Tigerlily.
"There was nothing there - no sign that Michael had ever been in that room," says Rhett, who abandoned mainstream city living six years ago to settle in the northern NSW beachside town of Byron Bay. "I loved him so dearly. We had a very strong love which grew from being so close in our childhood."
"Michael truely was the older brother. He was protective and caring and has my best interests and welfare at heart. We were always arm in arm - brothers in arms. I still can't believe Michael's gone, in a way. It's been a bloody big year for me, an extraordinary year now that Michael's not here. I've come to the conclusion that under the influence of drugs and having a chemical imbalance, Michaelopted out on the spur of the moment. I find that hard because he loved life. He got to sample the best of life."
"The one thing I do know about Michael is that he hated being alone. I never saw him alone. I guess that's why he went out every night and played to 20,000 people, and afterwards was still surrounded by people. I've been to hotels where he's been on his own, but he'd be on the phone talking to somebody. He always needed that in his life."
"The sad thing for me is that Michael - a guy who had such a warm generous heart - had a sorrow in there he just couldn't share with anybody. I don't think I can pinpoint why ... maybe band pressures, family pressures, financial pressures; an accumulation of many years of things."
While Michael embraced fame, Rhett now 36 and a recovering heroin addict, was engulfed by it. Today his brown eyes are clear and focused, his sun streaked hair a tangle of curls whipped up by the breeze as he walks along the water's edge at Byron, soaking up the positive energy emanating from his special "place of healing".
"It's funny, I grew up in Michael's shadow for many years and now his death in some way has released me," he says frankly. "I lost myself because I got caught up in the fame game from a very early age. I loved it and I utilised it, and that's one of the reasons I live here now, because it got to the point where I was somebody else's brother and not myself."
"I may not be able to sit here now, let alone be alive today, if I hadn't made the break and come to Byron Bay. It's only now that I am finding 'me' and I don't think any more that my tombstone is going to read Michael Hutchence's brother. After all this, I just never thought it would be me going to his funeral. I thought he would have gone to mine first, because of the life I've lived. Michael's death has given me a chance at rebirth."
"You've got to understand Michael opened up a very big world for us. Sometimes I wonder what my relationship with him would have been like if he'd been a panel beater."
While a court battle looms over Michael's estate, his father Kelland, and his partner Paula Yates, remain caught up in bitterness and recrimination over the future of Tigerlily.
"I don't blame Paula for anything," says Rhett. "I'd like everyone to show some love and compassion and I'd like to have a relationship with Paula and Tigerlily. I'm willing to forget and forgive some of the things that have been said."
Rhett prefers to dwell on happier times, as he lovingly touches a silver-framed photograph of him and Michael, aged 12, smiling and arm in arm, atop Hong Kong's Victoria Peak. The eight years in the former British colony were fun filled and carefree as the boys and sister Tina played and believed nothing could spoil their perfect family. It was there that Michael's showmanship and musical flair emerged. He formed a folk band, performing classics such as Bob Dylan's Blowin' in the Wind, and delighted the family by singing Christmas carols with his mother Patricia.
The happiness was shattered when Kelland and Patricia divorced.
"When we were kids we had nannies and drivers. We didn't ever have to make up a bed and we had fabulous Christmases because every toy in the world was made in Hong Kong," Rhett recalls fondly.
"I don't know if Michael had any aspirations to be a rock 'n' roll singer at that early age, but growing up in Hong Kong left me with beautiful memories of our family as a unit. Then, when we got back to Australia in 1972, it ended. I don't know if our parents had stayed together for our sakes, but I guess things weren't working out for them. It took Michael and me a long time to get over that."
"The funny thing is that Michael was the link that brought us all together. But when he died there was a great divide again, which is only starting to heal now."
In Rhett's loungeroom an INXS tour video sits atop the VCR. A framed black and white print of a brooding Michael, shot by famed photographer Herb Ritts, is a dominant feature. Memorabilia is all he has left, and at times Rhett finds himself bursting uncontrollably into tears - in the shower, the street, on hearing an INXS classic on the radio. The grieving process goes on.
"Michael left a beautiful legacy, through his songs and his lyrics and his performances, and that's what I'll carry around with me. His music will be played forever."
"In the morgue, he looked so beautiful. He had a slight smile on his face, and with the lights shining above him he looked like he had a sparkle in his eye. Michael looked very peaceful. He looked at rest."
"I'd love to share all the exciting tales and adventures we had, but there are some things I have to hold onto and cherish, because that might be all I'm left with."
by: Di Stanley