Ever since the dawn of humankind, there has been a kind of innate desire to fly. And Brad was flying.
Not in some cheesy metaphorical sense, either; he was flying and he wanted to feel it while he could. This line of thought, perfectly reasonable, was what kept Brad so calm as he fell a hundred feet through the air from his trapeze...
He was even a little excited. Brad wasn't suicidal, exactly, but he wanted to see Frank again.
He thought he'd seen something, at any rate, before he fell:
Black curls. Corset. Fishnets. Pearl necklace. Glittery high-heels.
...The paramedics said he went smiling.