Chapter Text
For the first time in her life, Ocean O’Connell Rosenberg shrunk under the spotlight.
She’d spent years clawing her way into relevancy, starved for any semblance of attention. All she’d ever wanted was to be noticed, to be remembered.
But this spotlight isn’t warm with recognition, she doesn’t feel pride in the way it illuminates her horrified face. Instead it burns into her cheeks with the sting of betrayal.
“You are the winner.” Karnak had said without a shred of challenge or sarcasm. He’d said it with sincerity, as if she’d earned it. As if she’d won.
If there really was some lesson in all this, Ocean had learned it. Maybe it was to cherish life while you still had it, maybe it was appreciating those you surround yourself with.
Whatever it was, she’d been played the fool. She’d been made a spectacle of. They’d all had a good laugh at her expense, so where was the curtain? Where were the cameras signaling an elaborate prank?
Ocean’s hands travel to the folds of her skirt, clutching the ruffles in a desperate attempt to ground herself. She isn’t sure how long she stands there, squirming uncomfortably beneath the prickling spotlight. Too long.
“What happens when I choose.” She finally rasps, gaze diverted in shame. Her ears burn with embarrassment, knowing that her choirmates’ gazes are surely all boring into her back. She doesn’t want to know what expression they wore.
“In five minutes, all bets are off.” Karnak’s disembodied voice drones instead. In all her life, Ocean had never been more tempted to tear a machine to pieces.
She taps her foot under the pressure, firmly pressing her palms into the ruffles of her skirt. “What happens in five minutes?”
“My death.” He replies too-quickly. Like it means nothing.
“And then?” She challenges, just as fast. “What happens to us after you die? Are you seriously asking me to pick one person and doom the rest of us?”
But Karnak had gone quiet. Didn’t seem to have a witty response for that one.
The silence dug into her nauseated core, the cherry on top of a cruel, heartless sundae.
She bit back a frustrated choke, working to ignore the thundering in her chest. Well.. she could always just- Why would you even consider voting for yourself? What is wrong with you? God, stop being so selfish, Ocean.
She tries to shut off her thoughts, allow nothingness to consume her in the hopes of thinking straight. It doesn’t last long.
When a hand claps over her shoulder, Ocean’s quick to whip around. She tugs back from the placating touch, taking an unsteady step away.
It takes her a second to recognize the face as Noel, but the realization does nothing to calm her thundering heart.
“Ocean.” Noel blinks in surprise, holding his arms up innocently. His eyes sweep over her, regarding her hysteria with something akin to confusion. Ocean’s pupils dart across the warehouse, where they catch on the distracted members of the choir.
“Noel.” She finally replies, not without a hint of indifference.
His eyes seem to ask permission, and while she isn’t really in the mood to waste time on him, she lets her shoulders fall anyway. Noel relaxes as well, straightening his collar absentmindedly.
“Look,” He clears his throat, beginning in a quiet murmur. “I know we haven’t exactly seen eye to eye on…just about anything. But I think the right thing to do here is pretty obvious.” He shrugs a shoulder towards Jane, who is idling at Ricky’s side. The pair are occupied with their own goodbyes, and don’t appear to hear them.
If she thought about his words for a second longer, she might have been offended. Instead, she releases the fabric around her knees and wilts. “Noel, I’m not voting for myself.” It hardly sounds like the truth.
“Okay, sure.” He agrees, as if he believes her. “Then why are you making such a scene about this? Just cast the vote already. We don’t exactly have a lot of time here.”
Her lips ache from the way she gnaws at them. She can’t find the words, so she doesn’t speak. He seems to take her nerves as a sign of dishonesty, and continues to push.
“Ocean, you heard what that guy said.” Noel remarks, more urgently. “You only have five minutes- less now- to make up your mind. If you do nothing, Jane might not even get the chance to-”
“How can you say that like it means nothing? Like voting for her isn’t the hardest thing I’ll ever do?” Ocean interrupts, doing her best to keep her voice at a whisper.
“Well of course it’s hard,” Noel scoffs, all too dramatically. “This is life and death we’re talking about. But if you’re honestly not considering voting for yourself, why in hell are you risking poor Jane’s chance at survival?”
But he doesn’t get it, he can’t, because he continues throwing around death and survival like this wasn’t their reality now. Ocean swallows a mouthful of venom. “Is no one else here scared to disappear? Scared that this musical hookup is the closest thing to an afterlife we’ll ever see?”
Noel’s nose scrunches, and she knows he’s taken it too seriously before the words even leave his lips. “Of course not! Do you honestly think I wanted to die like this? An unloved virgin who part-timed at Taco Bell?”
The words don’t come right away, and her mouth pops open and shut in frustration. Finally she sighs, “You don’t understand.”
“Yeah, of course I don’t. Because you actually had a life, right?” Noel pinches the bridge of his nose, fighting to keep his voice level. “We’re already dead, Ocean! We’ve been sitting on borrowed time since the beginning, and now we have a chance to make our deaths mean something. What in the world could be more important than that?”
“I’m scared, okay!” Ocean hisses, silencing a sympathetic Noel. Both of their mouths shut with an audible click, and for a moment they just stare at each other.
Noel, out of courtesy to her dilemma, says nothing. He does however make a vague gesture with his hands, because he’s a dramatic bitch.
“I’m scared to die, to not exist.” She begins, clawing at her cuticles. “My time here has changed me so much, but you never stop being scared- not really! I’ve worked my entire life towards nothing and I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that there isn’t a tomorrow. My brain is having trouble realizing that I’ll never wake up again, that I’ll never write another essay or eat dinner with my parents. I don’t think I fully realized I was dead until now and I don’t know how to handle it, Noel!”
Ocean races to spew her thoughts out in one breath, intaking a sharp gasp of air as she finishes. She wipes the sweat at her brow, and bows her head when her eyes begin to sting. She huffs, “I’m voting for Jane, I just need a second to calm down. There, is that the answer you were looking for?”
Noel blinks once, then twice. He takes a minute to digest her words, suddenly at a loss for words. He swears under his breath, clearly understanding just how heavy the load on her shoulders was. “Yeah… damn. You’re under a lot of pressure already, I shouldn't have cornered you like that.”
She isn’t sure what to say to that. It isn’t an apology, but it’s the most understanding he’s ever been of her plights.
Noel truly considers her for the first time since they arrived. He seems proud of what he finds.
He laughs to himself, light and teasing. “I guess I was a little worried. I’m just so used to you being….”
“A massive a-hole?” She offered, chuckling weakly.
“If that’s what you wanna call it.” He sighs, and they’re comfortable just existing for a moment, but his expression soon begins to harden. When his lips part, she can only assume he wants to address the looming conundrum they’re faced with. Unfortunately, the rest of the choir takes that as their cue to enter.
Constance appears at Ocean’s side first, brows furrowed and lips curved into a concerned frown.
“Ocean, is everything okay? I heard you guys yelling and I didn’t want to pry but-” Suddenly, a shoulder barrels into her side and she’s cut off with a surprised squeak. A head pokes between Ocean and Constance, stoic and bored.
“Whaaaat is taking so long!” Mischa groans, pushing his way into their huddle. “I do not mean to rush, but we are in bit of hurry.”
“No need to get your panties in a twist, Misch. We were just wrapping up.” Noel dismisses, fighting a smile.
Mischa rocked his knees back and forth. “I assure my panties are quite untwisted, Noel Gruber. For realsies now, is Ocean finished with breakdown?” He cups his mouth to lower his voice, still comically loud. “Is a little embarrassing.”
Her mouth pops open, and Ocean can already feel the defensive heat rushing to her cheeks. Before she can find the words to defend herself though, Noel interjects even louder. “Actually Ocean just needed a minute to herself, she’s still trying to make a decision. I’m sure we’ll all manage.”
A brow slid firmly up Mischa’s face, and his eyes darted quickly between the two. He paired the motion with a quick shrug. “Whatever you say, poet.” He popped his lips, before reaching over and clapping Noel over the shoulders. The boy’s back straightened against the touch, and he let out a startled chuckle.
Apparently growing impatient, Constance taps her foot a few times. “Has Ocean made a decision?” She inquires, tilting her head towards her friend.
“Yes.” Ocean replies quickly, before backtracking. “I mean… I think so?”
“You.. think so.” She parroted, clearly leaving room for her friend to elaborate.
“I already know how I’m voting. I’m not chickening out at the last second and picking myself, if that’s what you’re asking.” Exhaustion dots the undersides of her eyes, and Ocean swipes at her cheeks as if to wipe it away. “I’ve made a decision, I’m just…”
“I needed a minute to catch my breath, that’s all.” She admits finally, cringing at the way it comes out.
At first nobody says anything, either startled by this revelation or hoping someone else will address it first. Surprisingly enough, Ricky is the one who breaks the tension.
“Well it’s okay to be scared.” He interjects, making an attempt to soothe her. “I think at one point, I was a little scared too. I didn’t do a whole lot of living while I was still alive, and it was really distressing that I just let the days pass me by without giving them meaning. But sometimes… the hardest decisions are the most worthwhile ones.”
Ocean blinked, taken slightly aback. The room grew even quieter, if that was possible. “Wow, that was.. surprisingly insightful.” She laughs to herself. “Thank you, Ricky.”
“Anytime, monkey love drop.” He winks, blowing her a kiss from the opposite end of the huddle.
Ocean bit down on her tongue. “Yeah, knew something was gonna ruin it.”
“So, is that it then?” Noel waves a hand, letting that train wreck die out. “Ocean’s clearly made up her mind, she’s had her time to think, I don’t see the point in prolonging this ordeal any longer.”
But even the mention has her stomach twisting. “Noel, I-” She protests, still feeling like there’s something to do, something she needs to say.
“Would it help if I held your hand?” He teased, all too cruel.
Ocean could only deadpan. “I am not holding your hand.”
But he didn’t relent, his mouth curling into a grin. “Aww, guys Ocean’s embarrassed.”
“I think we need a group hug.” Ricky nods, very seriously.
“Did somebody say group hug!” Constance squeaked, and in an instant wrapped her arms around Ocean’s core. “Hey, hey-!” She begins to protest, but she’d already been swept along into a sea of hands. They encased her from every angle, paired with a handful of snickers from either side.
Jane toddles over, burying her face in a mass of shoulders. Mischa takes longer to join, but eventually places half an arm across a handful of backs, all while muttering something about orphans.
it doesn’t take long for Ocean to melt into the touch.
With a sigh, she finally lets her shoulders fall and wraps an arm around Constance. She allows pairs of firm arms to hold her from every angle, and for a minute they just melt into one another’s grips.
She twisted in place to look back to Noel, mouthing a quick and sincere, ‘Thank you.’
He shrugged, as if to say ‘It’s the least I could do’.
They sit there for a moment more, just absorbed in the moment and in each other’s warmth. Ocean didn’t realize how badly she’d needed this until she was given it. However, they had to let go eventually, and the touching reunion began to dissolve after a few moments.
Ocean released the side of Constance she was stuck to, and was slowly released from the other’s arms. She took a step back, resuming her position in the huddle. Then she inhaled sharply, squaring back her shoulders. With a newfound authority, she announced “Okay Mr. Machine Guy. We’re ready.”
She was expecting a snarky comeback, or at least a response, so the following silence leaves Ocean a bit dumbfounded. She blinks a few times, staring down the box that held him.
“What was his name again?” She called out to the choir, bounding across the warehouse to get a better look at the machinery. A swipe at the box’s collected dust gives no clues, so she turns back to her friends expectantly.
“I believe it was The Amazing Karnak.” Jane supplies, startling a nearby Constance. She shuffles away from the former, suddenly aware of how close Jane had gotten.
“Okay, The Amazing Karnak.” Ocean parrots, clearly unimpressed by the title. “I’m ready to vote, where’d you run off to?”
For a few seconds, nobody says anything. Karnak makes no attempt at a dramatic reappearance. She’s incredibly tempted to get upset.
“Maybe you should say the magic word.” Ricky whispered, very seriously.
Ocean stared at him. “He’s the one making a big deal out of this final vote. Why do I need to beg him to show his face?”
“Just try it.” Constance knocked her lightly across the shoulder, eyes locked intensely on his box. Ocean only sighed.
“Mr Karnak Sir, could I please put in my vote?” She grimaced, hating that she had to kiss his ass for any sort of response. However, he still remained firmly silent. She stamps her foot, making a vaguely frustrated gesture with her hands. “This is stupid, where did he go?”
Nobody has anything to say to that. However, Noel had a more distressing thought. “Hey guys, how long has it been since he left?”
A beat of silence passes. Then another. Then all at once, the lights go out.
At least, Ocean assumes so. It feels closer to instantaneously losing her sight, but the room is quickly drenched in impenetrable darkness.
She instinctively begins swatting around in the air to find her friends, blindly reaching for something to grab onto. A chorus of surprised shrieks follows close behind.
Noel called out “Hello?” somewhere to her right, followed by a shaky “Guys?” from Constance.
Things devolved into chaos briskly, each of the choir members fighting to have their voice heard. In the darkness, feet were stepped on and countless ribs were prodded by stray hands.
And then, as if their anxiety had kickstarted something within her, Ocean was taking charge.
“Guys, stop moving!” She ordered through the chaos, grunting through the pain of a stray elbow jab. She took a fistful of someone's fingers and dragged them closer. “I don’t know what’s going on but we need to stick together!”
“Yo, who turned out the lights?” Mischa hisses, finding Ocean and planting himself firmly at her side. His hands blindly fumbled around her vicinity, eventually claiming the cuff of her sleeve to grip.
“Look whatever’s happe-” Ocean began, speech halting with a choked cry. A wave of nausea overtook her mind, and the choir similarly grew silent around her. She coughed a few times, releasing whoever’s hand she was holding to clasp her throat. “Going.. We’re just- stay calm.”
She managed to speak around the nausea, pressing through the way her legs shook.
Her head began to spin, and it took a lot of power to stay upright. With one final effort, her knees collapsed beneath her.
And then, everything stopped.