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Chapter Text

Bojan woke up with a gasp, tangled between the bed sheets. Out of habit, the first thing he did was check his phone: The date read May 13th, 2023.

This was it. The day of the Eurovision Grand Finale and he was so not ready, so his anxiety hadn’t let him sleep peacefully for days now. His dreams were filled with what ifs and the worst case scenarios of how tonight could go. 

It was the same anxiety that made him forget about the fun part of this event. He’d had enough of that before the semi finals, with several pre parties where they got drunk, hung around to meet the other contestants, and maybe did some casual flirting with them as well. He’d let himself go for weeks. But all that was forgotten the moment their rehearsals began, because Bojan wasn’t going to fuck this one chance for Joker Out by getting distracted with a couple of cute Finnish blue eyes. No. That was over.

He checked his notifications. There were lots of Good Luck messages from his family and friends from Slovenia, making him smile. He was glad to have the support of his loved ones no matter what. Although, this didn’t mean he wouldn’t fight for the trophy until the end.

He stopped when he noticed the name “Jere <3” between those messages. The Finn also took his time to wish him good luck and to tell him to go be a star. His stomach might have done a backflip, and he might have wanted to punch himself at this. 

Bojan has been a dick to Jere since some days ago, ignoring some of his texts and coming back only to say he’s been extremely busy. And the worst part was that Jere, being the soft spoken, kind hearted man he was underneath the bright green façade, was the most understanding human about it. He didn’t seem angry when they crossed paths in the arena hallways, instead showing his support, pushing him to join his delegation and be the best.

This was Jere, for whom he might have fallen for during those pre parties and who had made it very hard to stay away from.

A knock on the door tore his eyes away from his cellphone. A muffled voice calling out his name. “Bojan, nine o’clock. Rise and shine, because today it’s showtime,” spoke Mark. 

Bojan took a deep breath. It was showtime.

The band and other contestants did have their breakfast at the hotel, immediately being sent to the arena to work out the final details of their performances, some last minute changes or simply to be prepared when night time arrived. So you couldn’t blame Bojan for feeling suffocated by Eurovision. 

If it wasn’t the contest itself, it would be the media, trying to corner him every time they had the chance to and only to get irrelevant, drama inducing type of answers from him. Every single person expected something from the singers, like they were their puppets to mess around with. Part of him couldn’t wait for it to be over regardless of the result. 

That part of him was quickly overshadowed by perfectionist Bojan, who looked at himself in the bathroom mirror and told himself to get his shit together. Joker Out had the chance to win, they didn’t come so far for him to throw it out the window. He fixed his hair one last time and left to join the backstage area of the arena. 

He could hear everyone else throwing a fuss for different reasons, even the most minimal. Bojan was not the only one in a pissy mood: He swore he heard Noa yelling at someone for getting her water temperature wrong. She liked it warm enough, not scorching hot but not at room temperature.

Then, on the other side of the hall, there was Alessandra swearing to God she couldn’t breathe with how tight they did her corset tonight and anyone please fix it or else she would pass out. 

He exchanged worried looks with Luke Black, who seemed to not care about what his assistant was telling him. Bojan understood a bit from the conversation, which was happening in Serbian.

“Katya, I told you I’m fine. Some dumb internet bullies think they’re so powerful doing online death threats, not a big deal. Unless someone barges in with the amount of security we have, that’s the least of my worries, did you hear me?” Luke said. It was sad how many people in Serbia didn’t support him for being part of the LGBTQ+ community, or for his performance. But getting death threats? Bojan admired Luke’s iron strength to not let these comments get to him. 

Bojan came back to Slovenia’s room, joining his friends one more time. Someone had brought in a cake to celebrate the seven year anniversary of Joker Out. 

“Bojan! Finally! Let’s blow out the candle together.” Kris waved his hand around to tell him to get closer. They all moved around to give him space to sit right in the middle.

Gregor looked around the room. “Does anyone want to give an emotional speech or something?” 

The five members exchanged looks, Bojan shaking his head. “I’m too stressed to think, you guys. You do it Jan, you’re good with those.” His best friend cleared his throat dramatically.

“Well… we’ve made it this far and, uh…I don’t know, I love you guys so much, okay? There’s no one else I’d rather be doing this today than you. So let’s carpe this fucking diem and have fun, alright?”

“Yes!” Jure exclaimed. The rest of the delegation pulled out their phones and told them to pull their biggest smiles for the cameras before doing their wishes. At the same time, the five friends closed their eyes to think for a second.

What do I wish for? Are the others gonna wish for something deep and emotional or something super dumb and easy? Fuck. My pinky finger is bigger than this candle, maybe a small wish will do. I wish I wasn’t this preoccupied about Eurovision. I guess.

“Three, two, one!” And then they blew the tiny candle together. The room filled with cheers and clapping. Bojan thought Jan was right: Maybe he feels like exploding, but for sure he wouldn’t want to be here without his band. 

“C’mon Bojči, I know we’re under a lot of pressure but try to relax for one second. Here, have some cake.” One arm surrounded him while Nace’s free hand reached for a piece of cake and offered it to him. He sighed.

“I know, I know… I just want to make our country proud,” he stated before taking a bite. It was vanilla with pieces of strawberry, the Joker Out favorite of all times. “I- Nace, what happens if we fail?”

“Well, we will live to tell everyone we tried. That’s good enough for me, it should be for you too, Bojan. You took us this far.” Nace’s finger poked his chest, as if trying to poke some sense into him. Bojan untangled himself from his friend’s embrace, frowning.

“It’s not. I- I want to win, Nace.” He found it annoying how the rest of the band had been constantly nagging him with the idea of relaxing and letting things be. Why would he let things be when he can take control and drive them to the finish line? Wasn’t it the most logical thing to desire? 

Suddenly, he wasn’t as hungry. No amount of cake would free him from the pressure. Even if his friends would look at him like he was crazy for the rest of the evening, he would push through.

His makeup was getting done, him sitting impatiently in front of a mirror while being told to stop fiddling like a kid. 

“I’m nervous!” He defended himself. The makeup artist looked at him unimpressed in return.

“You don’t say.-” The door opened, interrupting the woman’s work, something Bojan was slightly relieved for. He was starting to get itchy with the unnecessary amount of foundation she put under his eyes. He wasn’t that sleep deprived, was he? 

It was Jure, hesitant to speak. “Hey, Boj… Jere wants to talk to you like, right now.”

Oh. “I’m busy.” He hoped the blond didn’t notice how he took the makeup artist’s hand so she’s back to doing his finishing touches. She seemed shocked for a second before continuing, trying to catch up with his behavior. 

“He seems desperate.” Right. Knowing Jure, he wouldn’t let him rest until he accepted. He hadn’t told them much about his relationship with Jere, they teased him before and have been asking about it once they noticed they didn’t talk as much.

“Okay, then.” He replied drily, forcing his gaze to not move from his reflection on the mirror, unsure about whether it would be better than to look at the finn. It was like Mirror Bojan was staring into his soul, calling him a coward. 

His fifth sense felt the green bolero approaching him and, since he was being stubborn, Jere stood beside him and looked to the mirror as well.

“Looking good, Jokerman.” He spoke with a happy tone.

“Thanks, brother. How are you?” The woman held a laugh once she heard his very forced “brother”. 

“Good, good. Wanted to wish you good luck, since messages don’t seem to be working.” This was the first time he sensed a slight of anger in his friend’s voice. God, screw Jere for always being so direct. 

“Shit, I’m so sorry. I know I haven’t been texting back, I’ve been-”

“Busy, I know.” 

“But I didn’t mean to- You know how this is.” Grabbing enough courage, he finally turned his head, so now the intense eye contact he’d been holding with Jere wouldn’t be through their reflections. “We’re both stressed, I didn’t want to add more weight onto your shoulders.”

Jere was unsure, and he could tell by the way his hands held his own frame, like the Finn wanted to make himself small. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen him this vulnerable. “I know. I know we both busy. That doesn’t mean we push each other away, Bojan. I need my friend.”

Ouch. “That’s enough.” He hastily told the woman, who had no way to hide she’d been listening. She was quite literally between the two of them. His sudden rise of voice startled her. “I’m sorry, thank you. But please leave.”

Jere offered her an apologetic look while she did as told. Bojan would have time to feel guilty later, not when everything had him on edge. 

“Jere, I can’t not be busy. We’re in Eurovision. I’m trying to win here.” He stood up, getting a closer look at himself and fixing his hair once more. Because it just didn’t seem to look good enough in his eyes, he didn’t want to look like fucking Justin Bieber again. 

“I’m trying to not lose a friend, Bojan.” He sighs.

“We’re still friends, who have responsibilities. I don’t know what you want from me, Käärija.”

The use of the other’s artistic name seemed to push a button. Jere stepped closer, forcing him to face him not only by cornering him between him and the mirror, but by putting a hand under his jaw. Bojan stopped breathing and kept trying to look anywhere except the Finn’s blue eyes. 

“Please, don’t.” He whispered.

“Look at me, Bojan.” He would not give in. They had a contest… they…

“I can’t.” 

“Just look at me.” Jere’s soft voice inevitably made him fall into his spell. Their eyes met, Bojan was ready to crumble right there and then. “I think you know what I want, but you’re not ready. When you are, come to me, if it’s not too late.” 

And with that, Jere was gone like the wind. 

Fuck. Fuck. This was not what he needed right now. He promised he would stay strong and not be distracted. He didn’t count on Jere taking the initiative an hour before the show began. Fun time was over, and Bojan was definitely not having fun anymore.

Jure opened the door once more, shyly and really slowly poking his head inside. “Are you okay?” 

“Yes, Jure! I’m perfect! Thank you for that!” He yelled back, tired. Jure, unwilling to keep talking, went back outside, feeling like he needed a minute, or many minutes, to join the rest of the band.

Bojan tried his best to forget about Jere’s gentle touch and glistening eyes during the Grand Finale. He really did. He gave everything he had, no matter how distressed or lovestruck he was. He made sure to put on a show for absolutely every person who could be watching.

In the end, it wasn’t enough. It had barely been decent since they placed 21st . Out of 26 entries. Joker Out wasn’t worth even a top ten. Sweden’s Loreen became a two time Eurovision winner. Not surprising but still causing discomfort on most of the contestants.

“What on earth were those jury votes?” He heard Luke ask between the crowd created within the green room. Apparently, many of his friends were really worried about Jere, so they didn’t hesitate to leave their rooms to find the Finn as soon as Loreen walked on stage one more time. Bojan felt a pang of guilt, part of him wanting to find his friend too, the other with a need to run from this fucking place once and for all. 

“Yeah, that was unreal.” Replied Kris, uninterested in keeping a conversation. “I think I need a smoke right about now.” Finally, someone who understood Bojan.

“I’m in, mate.” He said back. If his memory wasn’t failing him, he already knew one of the back exits from the place. “I’m gonna be leaving, guys. I’m sorry I couldn’t get us the first place. I’ll meet you at the hotel.”

Before any of his friends had a chance to speak back, he was already pushing through the wave of singers and dancers. He didn’t care if his delegation would give him shit for skipping through any interviews, pictures or press conference after the show.. He didn’t give a fuck if he got in trouble. He was done caring about Eurovision. Tomorrow, he’d be back to Slovenia and back to their normal Joker Out routine, they came to Liverpool for nothing. 

He kept thinking the past months were a waste of time as he pulled out a box of cigarettes and his lighter, desperately trying to light it up still inside the place. Finding an exit door in a hallway far from the people, he went through it so he could smoke and at least respect the space of those who don’t. 

As the fresh air of the night hit his face, so did the startled yelp of someone, stepping back from the very same door.

“Oh, no.”

There were two men standing there. Both wearing black clothing and, more suspiciously, a type of garment covering most of their faces except for their eyes. Almost like robbers dress… Oh, wait…

There was no way Bojan was getting assaulted after this god awful day. There simply was no way. He discreetly tried to use a hand to push back into the door, finding it closed. The fucking door could only open from the inside. It was an emergency door. Great. Fucking great.

“Don’t you fucking move, or else.” One of them, being significantly bigger than the other, pulled out a gun with no hesitation and pointed it at Bojan, screaming in English but with a strange accent. The smaller one was shaking as he tried to do the same. 

“Look I just want to have a smoke-” 

“Shut up! We didn’t ask you!” Exclaimed the small guy. He shut his mouth immediately. 

“You’ll let us in, pretty boy. And maybe we’ll let you live.” Bojan nodded. He was exhausted but not that exhausted . He wanted to go back home and rest, not rest . Alright? “How do we get in?”

“Uh… This door will not open if that’s where you were planning to come in” He hadn’t heard stories of robbers breaking into Eurovision. Well, maybe there has been and the media just didn’t publish it.

“Don’t play smart. We know that. Lead us to other entries.” 

“Yeah, I’ll do that.”

“I told you to shut up” Jesus, make up your mind, mate. He stopped replying and only looked around, trying to remember another entry, one that wouldn’t be so obvious for two men fully dressed in black to enter. Before he could come up with an answer, or a way out of this situation, the same door opened, revealing Kris. No. He forgot Kris wanted a cigarette as well.

“Kris, don’t come out!”

“Wha-?” His best friend didn’t get a chance to wonder what was happening, because the older gunman held the door wide open with one hand, his weapon prepared to be used with the other. Kris stared in shock, box of cigarettes long forgotten on the floor. 

“Now… none of you will say a word and instead will lead us inside.” The robber waved his gun around like it was a mere toy. Bojan didn’t like this at all, but he hated the idea of leading these guys to endanger the people and participants of Eurovision even more. So, he made a choice.

“Kris.” He turned around at Bojan calling his name. “I’m sorry”

And then he used all of his strength to force Kris back into the arena, immediately closing the door in front of him. “NO-”

“YOU!” Roared the big guy. Well, if it had to be him or literally everyone else , it was a no brainer. He could hear Kris banging on the other side of the door while he stood still, forcing his back against it, not letting his friend open up again. “Oh, you’re paying for thi-”

A loud bang cut their conversation short. 

And Bojan felt his stomach burning. Oh, God...

“Petar, what the fuck did you do?”

“BOJAN! BOJAN, ARE YOU OKAY? FUCK! HELP!” Kris’ voice began to fade in the background.

“I- I- I told you I didn’t know how to use this!” 

“We weren’t supposed to use them!” 

Bojan felt his body being moved from the door into the ground, the seemingly older man putting a hand over his wound, right under his belly button. At least, he felt glad it wasn’t another innocent person, or more than one.

“We should leave him… no one has to know it was us” Said Petar, the younger robberman.

The other man muttered something angrily before walking away, some blood on his hands. How kind of these gunmen to lay him on his back before leaving him to die alone on Liverpool streets. 

He tried to control his breathing as his vision began to blur, not like he could see much besides the cold, hard ground. 

“Bojan! Bojan, fuck. Stay with me, please…” Kris arrived and begged on his knees, holding his head. Bojan tried to hold back the tears once he heard his friend uncontrollably sobbing, still praying. “Don’t close your eyes.”

“I’m sorry…”

“No, no, I’m sorry, I should’ve come with you. Please, don’t leave me, you’re my best friend…”

This is how Bojan would die. The worst part was, if he did close his eyes he wouldn’t feel at peace with the way he was leaving. There’s a few people that deserved an apology from him…

“Bojan?” He heard Kris call out for him one last time, before letting darkness surrounding him. What use would it be to fight the inevitable…

Chapter Text

The tide changes, as another body falls deep into the water. 

Bojan’s dark strands of hair are floating around and his arms, trying to hold onto nothing.

Instead of an empty darkness, a warm light engulfs him from above.

“Huh… this one… he’s not ready.”

“Oh, what are you planning?”

“Send him back, you know what to do.”

“Hehe, for sure, my lady”

As if the water has its own life, it spins around Bojan. In a matter of seconds, the water sends him to the surface, back to where he came from. 

“This is going to be fun”

Bojan woke up with a gasp, tangled between the bed sheets. A hand reaching for his stomach, right below his belly button. He lifted his shirt to reveal the skin intact. What the-

Out of habit, the first thing he did was check his phone: The date read May 13th, 2023.

Right, if he wasn’t mistaken, today was the day of the Eurovision Grand Finale. He hadn’t been sleeping peacefully for several days now, so he’s sure his anxiety gave him the most realistic nightmare possible.

Bojan dreamed he died. This one was new. Usually, he’d dream about getting last place or being booed by the crowd, kicked out of Slovenia forever, not about being shot. It was annoying, because this anxiety had been the same that made him forget about the fun part of the contest. In his defense, he’s sure he’d had enough of that way before the semi finals, with several pre parties to get drunk and meet the rest of the contestants, including some casual flirting with them. 

But when the rehearsals began, Bojan knew he wasn’t going to fuck their one chance to win. Not even a couple of cute blue eyes would do that. 

Huh. He felt strange in his own skin by thinking about this. Had he given himself this monologue previously? 

He heard his phone vibrate on the bedside table, so he picked it up to check the amount of Good Luck messages he’s received from his family and friends from Slovenia, warming up his heart. Then, he noticed “Jere <3” had sent him his best wishes as well, and Bojan might have wanted to punch himself, because the Finn had taken his time to write to him while he’s been a serious dick in return.

He knew he’d fuck up, starting to ghost him and only texting back to say he was busy since some days ago. His stomach did a backflip thinking Jere had never stopped being a sweetheart to him despite his attitude. It also made a backflip out of guilt. Because this was the Jere he had fallen for during those pre parties, making it very hard for Bojan to stay away from him.

A knock on the door called for his attention, breaking his trance from his cellphone. Mark’s muffled voice called out his name, Bojan swore he knew what he would say.

“Bojan, nine o’clock. Rise and shine, because today it’s showtime.” Yes, that was it. So… did he fully dream about today or was something else going on?

He took a deep breath. Either way, it was showtime

Right after breakfast at their hotel, most of the contestants were sent to the arena to work out some final details and mistakes on their performances. Bojan immediately felt suffocated by this, making him leave to regain his composure in the bathroom.

He could do this, he told himself. He just needed to get his shit together: Joker Out already made it through the semi finals, they were here for a reason, he would not throw it out the window for some dumb doubts. He fixed his hair and left to join everyone in the backstage area.

Just like this morning with Mark, Bojan felt like he knew what he’d come across as he made his way to the Slovenian dressing room. Noa would complain to someone that her water was not warm enough, and the room temperature was too cold for her taste. Then, from the other side of the hall he’d hear Alessandra swear to God that if someone didn’t loosen up her corset he would pass out.

He got both these predictions right. So, when he exchanged looks with Luke Black, he decided to stop the Serbian to ask him something.

“Luke, are you being threatened online?” Luke seemed taken back by his question, but nodded anyway.

“Uh-... yes, Katya here-” He pointed at the blonde assistant trailing after him. “Was worried about my mental health due to some dumb internet bullies thinking they’re so powerful. I was telling her it’s not a big deal and not the first time I get empty death threats.”

“So, unless someone actually barges in with the amount of security we have, that’s the least of your worries, right?” Bojan completed the speech that was somehow engraved in his memory. Luke looked back at him, impressed.

“Yeah, exactly! See, Katya? Even Bojan is aware we’re safe and sound tonight.”

But… were they? He could still feel the ghost sensation of the bullet tearing through his stomach and the burning spreading. Bojan admired how Luke seemed positive despite all for tonight.

He came back to Slovenian’s room to join the band, finding the same he saw yesterday (today) at the small table, waiting for them to celebrate seven years of Joker Out.

“Bojan! Finally! Let’s blow out the candle together.” Kris waved his hand around to tell him to get closer. He sat in the middle of his friends and waited for Jan’s speech.

“Well… we’ve made it this far and, uh…I don’t know, I love you guys so much, okay? There’s no one else I’d rather be doing this today than you. So let’s carpe this fucking diem and have fun, alright?”

“Yes!” Jure exclaimed. The delegation were taking pictures and asking them to be smiley for their social media. Bojan felt uneasy, not hungry and not willing to make his wish.

“Guys.” Everyone stopped. “I’m not feeling really good. I feel like- Something bad will happen” He looked around, hoping someone could see the desperation in his eyes and say "You're right, let’s not perform tonight" or anything that might save him from his doomed fate.

“What is it Bojči?” Nace wraps his arms around him trying to offer comfort. “You feel sick?”

“No! Yes! Maybe- Nace, we can’t go out tonight. It will not go right.”

“Whoa there, Bojan! I know we’re under a lot of pressure, but it’s the last night! Try to breathe deeply and relax for one second, some cake will help you…”

“Is it vanilla with strawberries?” 

“Yeah! It’s our favorite! Now, come on, close your eyes and think of your wish.”

I wish to not die tonight.

“Three, two, one!” And then they blew the tiny candle together. 

After that, he wasn’t hungry enough to take even a bite of the cake. On the contrary, he felt like throwing up. And his friends would look at him like he was insane, not for being the control freak he was used to being, but because of his future after the final results get announced.

His makeup was getting done as he sat impatiently in front of a mirror. The makeup artist -her name was Tanja, he made sure to know this time- kept telling him to stay still.

“Sorry.. I’m really nervous.” I’m going to die . Tanja looked unimpressed.

“You don’t say.-” That’s when the door opened and Bojan knew it would be a very hesitant Jure. 

“Hey, Boj… Jere wants to talk to you like, right now.” 

He thought about it for a second. He wasn’t less busy than yesterday (today), so he wouldn’t be lying if he said so. Plus, Bojan wasn’t sure if hearing what Jere would tell him would help with the worry he already carried about tonight.

“I- I’m busy.” He offered a pleading look to Tanja, which she easily read as a cue to continue doing his finishing touches. 

“He seems desperate.” So am I. He sighed, he knew Jure wouldn’t let it rest unless he accepted. And once again, he hadn’t told the rest of Joker Out much about his relationship with the Finn.

“Okay…” 

“Hello, Jokerman.” That dialogue was new. Bojan did tear his gaze away from the mirror, knowing his reflection would tell him not to hide if he did otherwise.

The Green bolero approached him, looking into his eyes like trying to read his mind. If you can: Please save me, Jere.

“Looking good, Jokerman.” He spoke with a happy tone.

“Thanks, brother. How are you?” He pretended to not hear Tanja’s laugh at the forced “brother”.

“Good, good. Wanted to wish you good luck, since messages don’t seem to be working.” This part remained the same, Jere’s same slightly angry voice tone.

“Jere, I’m so sorry. I know I haven’t been texting back. Today is not a good day.”

“You’re busy, I know.”

“It’s not just that- You know how this is. We’re both stressed, things are complicated, I don’t want to add more weight onto your shoulders.”

Jere still held himself, feeling vulnerable. “I know we both busy. I am too. I don’t push you away, Bojan. I need my friend.”

Ouch. If he hadn’t been shot in the stomach already, this would hurt the most so far.

“Jere.. I can’t not be busy. We’re in Eurovision and I’m… not doing as well as I wish I could.” Involuntarily, he looked back to the mirror and fixed his hair once more, he wasn’t going to die looking like fucking Justin Bieber.

“Then let me help you, I’m trying to not lose our friendship, Bojan.” 

“I… look, it’s not a good time. I don’t know what you want from me, Jere but, please. Not now.” 

Bojan felt like crumbling right there and then, under Jere’s glistening blue eyes. The other man smiled sadly and nodded. “I think you know what I want, but you’re not ready. When you are, come to me, if it’s not too late.” 

He hated this.

He didn’t need this right now.

Jere was gone and Tanja stayed quiet, acting like she wasn’t quite literally between the two of them. Bojan didn’t know how to feel anymore. Fuck.

Jure peeked his head through the door. “Are you okay?”

“No, Jure. I’m not, but I have no other option…”

Fun time was over.

He acted like he didn’t know Loreen was going to win. Like he didn’t want to tell his friends they’d place 21st out of 26 contestants and would feel embarrassed to make it this far for nothing. 

Bojan still gave everything he had, considering this would be his last live performance ever, and no matter how distressed or lovestruck he felt. He put on the show of his lifetime, so he would be remembered with it. 

“What on earth were those jury votes?” Luke said between the crowd of the green room. This time, Bojan did take a look around and saw a broken down Jere in the Finnish room. Some other contestants like Monika, Tvochi, were hugging him, probably telling him he was a winner to most people’s eyes. They would be right. As Loreen walked on stage, Bojan knew he was running out of time. 

“Yeah, that was unreal.” Replied Kris, with a bored tone “I think I need a smoke right about now.” 

“I think… we should wait for a bit, yeah?” He suggested instead of agreeing with his friend. If his memory wasn’t failing him, he left first and that caused his death. So this time, he would stall. 

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Why don’t we… go and support Jere too?” Jure turns to look at him questioningly at this.

“Didn’t you like, fully reject him early back in the dressing room?” What?

“I didn’t reject him… I just said it was not a good time.” And with that, he received a slap on the back of the head. “Ough? What the fuck?”

“You’re an idiot. That’s what.”

“Wh- Uh- Where’s Kris?” He got distracted for two seconds and his best friend had left?

“Didn’t he say he needed a smoke?” Oh, fuck .

“I didn’t think he’d- Fuck, guys, I need to stop him!”

“Why? Are you going clean? Bojan!” His friends yelled at him while he was already pushing through the wave of singers and dancers. If he didn’t leave early and take that shot, would Kris take it? He had to avoid anyone ’s death tonight. 

He followed yesterday’s (today’s) trail to the exact same door at which he experienced his downfall last night. How would he do this? Would he stop Kris and say, hey, please don’t? Or would he try to tackle the robbers to give them a chance of running away? 

Bojan fastened his pace and saw Kris’ brown hair right before reaching for the door handle.

“Kris, don’t!” 

“Huh?” Kris opened the door anyway as he looked back, causing the two gunmen to be pushed away into the street. Bojan cursed under his breath and pretty much repeated his actions from last night (tonight), pushing Kris out of the way so they both could go outside and not let the strange men enter the arena. “Hey- oh shit.”

“None of you fucking move, or else.” 

“Hey, dude. I had the absolute worst day-” Kris began ranting and didn’t want to stop even if the bigger one kept telling him to do so while waving around his gun like it was a mere toy.

“Shut up!”

“I just wanted to have a smoke-”

“We didn’t ask you!”

“We have no money on, so if you could like-”

“Jesus, Kris, they’ll shoot us if you don’t keep quiet.” He shushed him. Kris huffed in return.

“No, they won’t. Look at that one, doesn’t even know how to hold the gun!”

This seemed to anger the younger man. Petar, if he wasn’t mistaken. The older one just seemed annoyed he wasn’t able to go through with their plan, whatever it was.

Petar fiddled with the gun and pointed it at Kris. “I do know how to use it! Shut up!”

Kris, being a stubborn dickhead, was ready to keep talking like that was going to make the robbers let them go, but Petar, either on purpose or not, decided he had enough and pulled the trigger. 

Bojan threw himself into his best friend as a loud bang echoed through the street.

And Bojan felt his stomach burning. Welp, there it was. His fate was sealed.

“Petar, what the fuck did you do?”

“BOJAN! BOJAN! SOMEONE HELP!” Kris pulled out his phone, not caring about the other men, since they were panicking as well.

“I- I- I told you you should’ve taught me to hold this! Teo, don’t put this on me!” 

“We weren’t supposed to use them!” 

Bojan felt his body being moved from the door into the ground by Kris, who put a hand over his wound. It was right under his belly button once again. The seemingly older man hesitating whether to help the singer or to run. 

At least, it wasn’t Kris who’d die. Or another innocent person.

“We should leave him… no one has to know it was us” He faintly heard Petar in the background.

“Oh, no, you won’t.” Bojan couldn’t see what happened next, but felt Kris’ bloody hand leave him. “You won’t leave this place without facing the consequences” And then he saw a flash reflect on the cold, hard ground. 

There was some grunting and, he imagined, punches being thrown around. He held his hopes up that Kris would get justice from him, but they were quickly cut short when he heard his bandmate scream in pain, followed by a loud thud against the floor. 

So he didn’t save Kris. He wasn’t sure, because he didn’t hear a bang this time, it was more of a hit. If Kris were to be unconscious, then no one would find them until later… when it would be too late. 

“Bo… jan…” Kris called out for him one last time, before Bojan let himself be surrounded by the darkness. 

It was inevitable, even if he had been warned.

Chapter Text

The tide changes, as the same body falls into the deep water.

“What happened?”

“Same outcome, my lady.”

“They just don’t learn, do they?”

“Humans. You know how they are.”

“Right. One more time.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The water takes life and surrounds Bojan’s unconscious body. Eventually, it sends him back once again.

Bojan woke up with a gasp, tangled between the bed sheets. 

Okay, that one was real. His hand reached to lift up his shirt and revealed the skin below his belly button intact. 

If he were to check his phone, he’d see the date being May 13th 2023.

He took his phone. The date was the exact same. It was real. 

Did he die and God gave him a second chance at life? And now a third one? Why? How?

There was a movie that explained this. 

Ignoring the Good Luck messages, he immediately unlocked the cellphone to Google about the movie. Groundhog day, it was called. 

“A cynical weatherman gets stuck in a time loop where he keeps repeating Groundhog day over and over until he makes the right decisions” 

This was insane. He was actually trapped on Eurovision Grand Finale day like in a movie. And if he was the main character, then he guessed he had to make the right decisions too for him to get out and move on to tomorrow. 

This was the first step. Like in therapy: Recognize the situation to know how to fix the situation. 

No time for the routine. He knew the drill: He’s been anxious, he wanted to be perfect, and he forgot about the fun. His loved ones from Slovenia wished him good luck. Check. Jere sent him a message too, because they flirted back then, and now he’s been a dick, got it. 

He walked up to his hotel room door and opened it, finding Mark with a hand raised, prepared to knock. It wasn’t needed now.

“Hello, Mark, good morning. Rise and shine and all that. Showtime. Got it. Give me five minutes.”

Mark stared dumbfounded. “Yeah, that. Good morning to you too…”

It was showtime.

After he and the band had breakfast at the hotel, they were sent to the arena. Instead of feeling suffocated and focusing on his Eurovision performance mistakes, he tried to help his friends during the stress pre-show in the backstage area. Joker Out already made it this far, so he thought the rest would be easy.

First, he found Noa’s assistant on a table with water bottles for the singers. Bojan stopped him and told him it might be a good idea to warm it up a little before handing it to Noa.

“Because she might not like it at room temperature.” He completed. The assistant thanked him and left to find a place to heat the water up. 

Right, the next step would be to join the hallway where he’d find Alessandra ready to pass out. He quietly approached her and offered his help, she nodded desperately and lead him inside Norway’s dressing room.

“Jesus, Ale, how did they tie this up?” He struggled with untying the weird, professional knot her corset had. Alessandra didn’t even complain, which worried him. She just held her breath and Bojan wondered if it was just the tight clothing. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, just…” And she exhaled like she hasn’t been able to for a while. “Thank you, Bojan. You’re my hero.”

“No problem.” He observed as his friend took a seat and invited him to join her on the couch.

“I feel really stressed, man.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

“Like, you ever feel like you’re losing your mind but everyone around you just thinks you’re exaggerating? That’s what it’s like in my delegation.” 

“I know exactly what you’re talking about.” He knew they already thought he was being a control freak. Bojan could only imagine he’d be put into a psych ward if he tried to explain his time loop. 

“Everyone keeps saying Just have fun and It’ll be alright . How can I know that? What if I trip on stage? Idiots, it’s easy for them to say it…” 

“Hey, Ale… if you knew the way tonight would end, would you still do it?” She obviously thought he was talking about just the contest, but Bojan was wondering if it was still worth it to try to save himself and everyone else from the tragic fate. What would happen if he got stuck like this forever? If, no matter what he did, he were to die?

“Well… I guess I’d still do it. I know we complain a lot but it’s Eurovision. Carpe Diem, the good and the bad, right?” Alessandra nudged him with an elbow, trying to cheer up. He faked a grin.

“Yeah, right.”

On his way back to Slovenia’s room, he looked for a security guard. 

“Hi, hello, sir. So, I’ve been worried about my friend Luke’s social media. I’ve seen some guys say they’re going to roam around the back entries. I don’t know if it’s true but is there any way you guys could check just in case?”

The tall, serious looking man eyed him for a couple of seconds before grabbing his radio. For sure this would do the trick and save his ass (more like, his abdomen). 

After receiving a response, the guard put a hand over Bojan’s shoulder. “Hey, don’t worry, son. We’ll take a look if it helps you relax.”

“Thank you so much”

I wish to make things right this time.

This time, he savored the vanilla and strawberry cake as Nace offered him a side hug.

“Bojči, take it easy, it’s not your last meal ever. There will be plenty of food for us after the show.” Bojan gave a nervous laugh. He found the amount of death references he had gotten in all versions of today freaky, but only noticed now.

“I’m just very happy for our anniversary, Nace. Let me Carpe the Diem:” 

“Yeah, okay. Are you sure it’s just Joker Out’s anniversary or could it be someone else?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Käärijä, you idiot. You fixed things with him, right?” 

“Uh... not quite, yet? But why is everyone so obsessed with our relationship?” 

Nace raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying there’s a relationship to be obsessed with?”

“That’s not what I meant! I- I don’t know! There isn’t…” He muttered, avoiding his friend’s gaze. This has been the most they’ve talked about him and Jere, it didn’t feel as terrifying as he thought, but it was still a difficult topic to touch on. Nace seemed to catch up on his change of mood.

“Hey, I’m sorry. We tease you because we want you to be happy, Bojči. I wouldn’t want tonight to end with your heart broken or with any regrets, that’s it.” 

“Yeah, yeah… I think we’ll have to talk anyway before the show begins…”

He sat impatiently in front of the mirror as his makeup was getting done. He counted every single second until Jere were to appear, replaying the conversation in his head and trying to figure out what were the correct answers to their predicament. 

Tanja, of course, told him to stay still or else the world would see his eyebags.

“Sorry, I’m nervous…”

“You don’t say-” On cue, the door opened, revealing Jure. Before he could say a word, Bojan intervened.

“Yes, Jure, let him in, please.” 

“Oh, okay…” 

His friend was quickly replaced by Jere, who crossed the room confidently to get to Bojan’s side. They both smiled.

“Hello, Jokerman.” Once again, Jere’s blue eyes found his as if trying to read his thoughts.

“Hi, Jere.” He gulped. Whatever practiced dialogues he had come up with previously, they got forgotten the second he felt the Finn’s presence. Tanja must’ve felt him tense up. “I- I-”

“I wanted to wish you good luck, since messages don’t seem to be working.”

“Jere- I’m so sorry. I know I haven’t been a good friend recently.”

“You’re right about that. I really need my friend tonight.” Screw Jere for being always direct. 

“Yes, I think I need a friend too. Let me... make it up to you.” For what’s left of today. If Bojan gave it more thought, he’d conclude that Jere might’ve been right from the start: It was already too late.

He noticed how Jere’s hands held himself, a discreet way to calm his nerves. He said nothing for a minute and finally nodded.

“Okay, yes. You’re forgiven. But no more ignoring me, please.”

“I won’t. I promise.” Bojan stood up. Tanja had stopped doing her work already, not pretending anymore to not be eavesdropping on the conversation. She was literally between them anyway. 

They shared a hug, in which he tried to put all his feelings into since his words seemed to not work properly. 

He felt Jere’s warm breath on his ear as he spoke. “I would hate losing in Eurovision… but I’d hate losing you more.” And Bojan felt like crumbling right there and then.

A voice interrupted their moment. “Are you okay, Boj- Oh, nevermind.”

The singers separated with a giggle. “Yes, Jure, we’re good.”

Maybe fun time was not over yet.

Bojan tried his best to not freak out or explode from happiness. He expected the usual 21st place but was surprised with a 15th. Joker Out placed 15th place instead of the previous he saw. Of course, Loreen won anyway, but that didn’t lower his mood. 

He felt like he could finally breathe properly now that he changed the story. Bojan mentally gave a big fuck you to the universe, just not big enough for it to send him back. He gave everything he had, not only on his performance, and he did it. Now, he had to make sure one last detail was fixed as well…

“What on earth were those jury votes?” Spoke Luke between the crowd of people in the green room. 

“Yeah, that was unreal.” Replied Kris, not as uninterested as last time. “Bojan, stop with that dumb grin, I know we weren’t too bad but you’re scaring me now.”

“Sorry, guys. I’m just so happy.”

“You sure are…” Jure wiggled his eyebrows at him and then somewhere between the crowd. He was looking at Jere, who still got second place and seemed devastated. Would there be a way to also change his fate with… No. Bojan got this far, he wasn’t willing to tempt fate again for a crush.

Before he could take a step towards Finland’s room, Luke spoke looking confused.

“Hey, Bojan. Can I tell you something?”

“Yeah, sure. What’s up?”

“So… I’ve heard the security guards say they caught two guys roaming around with a gun outside the arena. They’re from Serbia ” Yes. He did it. He survived.

“Holy shit?”

“I know, right? I just… feel uneasy.”

“Why? I thought you weren’t scared of dumb internet bullies.” 

“Well, I lied, dumbass. Even if they’re online threats they’re still saying they’ll do nasty shit… Death is scary, okay?” Luke seemed embarrassed to admit this.

“Not that I mind but… why are you telling me this?” He did mind. God, please stop it with the death talk for a while.

“You overheard me earlier with Katya. I just.. don’t know who else to trust about this. Sorry if it’s too much.”

Bojan took a deep breath. “Hey, man. We should be thankful they got caught then. Why don’t we get blackout drunk to forget about it?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m in.”

After the short exchange, they followed the Jere-supporting-crowd to the backstage area once again, where the Finnish delegation stated they also intended to lose their consciousness with alcohol in a bar somewhere, and that everyone was welcome to join them. 

“Are we following them?” asked Jan. Bojan remembered his promise, so he nodded.

“We are. You don’t get fifteenth place everyday, do you?”

“Can’t argue with that,” his bandmates agreed.

“So, Bojan. Can I finally ask you why you were so cozy with Käärijä in the dressing room earlier?” Jure turned from his seat to look at Bojan like a very excited puppy. They sat in a car, which would follow Jere’s and lead them to the so awaited after-party. 

“Jeez, you are so annoying. He just forgave me for being a shitty friend.”

“Oh, my god” Whined Kris. “So that’s it? We’re leaving tomorrow and you chose to stay friends?”

“....yes?” He asked, mainly to himself.

“Alright, this is an intervention, Bojan. There’s no way you’re this dumb.” Nace unbuckled his seatbelt to join the argument, as did the rest, ready to strangle him at that moment.

“What are you talking about?”

“Listen to me. You. Are. In. Love. With. Jere. Käärijä. ” Jan poked his chest at each word to emphasize. His brain short circuited. “We have known you since we were little kids, for fuck’s sake. You are not going to fool yourself by thinking you actually want to remain just friends with Jere, like, Jesus, at least give him a little smooch before you separate ways!”

“But he said he wanted-”

“And what about what you want? Huh? Have you taken five minutes to wonder if that’s what you really desire?”

He kept quiet. So his own attempts to hide how hard he’d fallen for Jere were useless when it came to his band. Perhaps they were right. They didn’t say anything, and instead looked at him with the hope that Jan’s words actually made an impact. 

“I want-” 

A blinding light came into view.

He turned to see it was a van coming directly on their way, driving on the wrong side of the street, but before he could give anyone a warning, his side of the car got hit. 

It happened in less than a second. The windows broke in a million pieces and his body got thrown into the seat in front of him. The actual impact knocked him unconscious instantly.

They probably should’ve kept their seatbelts on…

Chapter Text

The tide changes. 

“You had fun with this one, didn’t you?”

“Maybe…”

“They’re fragile. Please, remember that on the next one.”

“Yes, I knew there’d be a next one.”

“That doesn’t mean he should be thrown around like a puppet.”

“Sorry, my lady.”

“Alright. Run it.”

Bojan is sent back to the surface.

Bojan woke up with a gasp, tangled between the bed sheets. What the fuck?

He grabbed his phone. And it was May 13th 2023. He threw it into the wall. What the actual fuck?

But he had done it! He fixed the timeline: He made up with Jere, helped his friends, saved himself and probably many others from being shot! They even placed higher! There was no other way he could’ve done this. He was perfect! And what did the universe do? Reward him by finding another way to kill him? 

What else did the universe want from him? Was someone above playing “Dumb ways to die” with him? What was next? Dying from eating the wrong food? 

He couldn’t help but take his pillow and scream into it. He was exhausted . Bojan already hadn’t been sleeping well way before falling into the time loop, and this just made it worse. 

No, the worst part was that he was completely alone in this. No one would come up to him and say Hey, I know you’re been reliving today and probably will until God knows when. No one would take away the pit in his stomach, or the anxiety that gave him to think about even getting out of bed this time.

Out of habit, he lifted his shirt to try to find a scar. As usual, nothing. Today, the ghostly feeling he had was from the pieces of glass being scattered around and piercing his skin.

Well, if God decided he wasn’t getting a second chance but instead he was being punished for something , Bojan decided to screw it and do whatever he wanted. The outcome would be the same. 

He didn’t bother reading his Good Luck messages and instead stood up from the bed, walking up to his suitcase to pull out his box of cigarettes. 

Mark knocked on his door. “Bojan, nine o’clock. Rise and shine, because today it’s showtime.”

He smiled to himself, holding a lighter in the other hand. It was fucking showtime. 

He skipped breakfast to have a smoke at the hotel entrance. That’s where he also waited for his bandmates and for them to be sent into the arena. Bojan quickly noticed how his friends gave him questioning looks for falling back into his old habit so early in the morning, but chose to not tell him anything. Good.

He intercepted Noa’s assistant, knowing he’d fuck up the temperature. So, to keep a good impression on the other contestants, Bojan tried to play nice and still help them.

“She doesn’t like it at room temperature. Here, I’ll do it” He told the guy before grabbing a glass. 

Once he joined the rest of the singers in the backstage area, Bojan offered the glass with warmer-than-room-temperature to Noa. She appeared shocked at first but broke into a sweet smile. 

“Whoa, thank you Bojan. I didn’t expect this.” 

He couldn’t resist the temptation to raise a hand and place his thumb under her chin to lift her gaze. “Not a problem, gorgeous.”

Okay, maybe he was exaggerating with the attitude. Just a bit. In his defense, he was getting carried away by the thought of having no consequences to his actions. The temptation kept growing bigger and bigger each step he took in the hallway.

There was Alessandra, almost gasping for air. Of course, Bojan would be a dick to not help her.

“You should’ve told them they did it too tight.” He said as he struggled with the weird knot on Ale’s corset inside Norway’s dressing room.

“I’d feel bad…” She said between cries. Finally, he found the way again to undo that awful work and his friend took a breath like it would be her last one. “Thank you, Bojan. You are my hero.” 

“No problem…” She took a seat on the massive couch and invited him to join her. A horrible thought crossed his mind once he reminded himself there was no one else in this room but the two of them. Bojan just observed while he sat, giving enough space between them.

“I just feel really stressed. Maybe the outfit isn’t even that tight and I’m feeling claustrophobic.” 

“No, it was tight. I saw what they did…” 

“Like, do you ever feel like you’re losing your mind but everyone around you just thinks you’re exaggerating?”

He nodded, suddenly feeling numb. She raised an eyebrow at his silence. 

“Are you alright, my friend?” 

And instead of offering a proper response, Bojan followed his impulse, closing that distance and aiming for Alessandra’s lips. 

She caught up with his intentions and turned to her side at the same time she pushed him, probably with all her strength because he ended up bouncing back on the couch where he had originally sat.

“Whoa. No, no, no. Bojan. No. What the fuck?” She stuttered, now angry.

“I thought we were having a moment” Dumb Bojan.  

“You’re an actual asshole. I have a boyfriend and Jere is like a brother to me. What is happening in that brain? Surely, not much…” Okay, Jesus. She didn’t have to go at him like that. He rolled his eyes at the mention of the Finn.

“What does Jere have to do with this?” 

“Right, okay, we’re doing this. Jere is like, madly in love with you and everyone thought you were too. So, today, right now, whatever that was…” Her hands waved around trying to emphasize her words. “Never happened, got that?”

“Okay…”

“I really want to murder you right now.” Not the only one, he thought.

“I know.”

“Are you even going to apologize?” Alessandra crossed her arms.

“I guess. I’m sorry, Ale.”

“Try to make it sound real at least, for fuck’s sake.” 

“Jesus, does everyone expect something from me? Oh you’re in love with Jere. Oh you should give your best but also not your best because your friends will think you’re having an episode- ” Bojan mimicked everyone’s voices as he stood up to pace around the room.

“Bojan-”

“ Oh you should smile for the cameras, pretend you’re not scared to death-”

“Bojan!” He stopped once he felt the Norweigian’s hands on his shoulders. “It’s not that deep. I don’t expect anything like that from you. Besides, well, perhaps try to not kiss me. Dude, I’m worried. What about what you want for once?”

“That’s what they told me before...” Before they died to a van crashing into them. 

He tried to recall the one previous second, when he had made up his mind for the first time and was ready to tell his friends what he wanted.

He wanted Jere.

Oh.

“I’m so sorry, Alessandra. I’m messed up.”

“Yeah, I can tell.”

“I have to go now, please let’s never talk about this.”

“On that we can agree, buddy.”

Since he’d already fucked up half of his day, he didn’t try to care for the rest except meeting Jere in the dressing room. 

When he entered Slovenia’s room again he asked everyone if there was a need to really do the silly cake and stupid pictures where they pretended to be happy and act like Eurovision wasn’t pushing them to the edge. Nace had tried to get on his good side by hugging him on the side, only to be pushed back.

“Whoa, Bojči- Look, I know we’re under a lot of pressure but try to relax for one second. Have some cake-”

“I don’t want the stupid cake, Nace. I should get a smok-” 

Mark stood by his side, shutting his tantrum down immediately. “Young man, you will sit your ass down on that couch and smile for at least one picture for our social media, or else. Also, quit it with the excessive smoking, this is like the fourth one you’ve had today and your lungs need to be not fried by the time you sing on international TV.”

Bojan was hit with a wave of guilt as he felt everyone’s eyes on him. Well, all these people depended on him from day one to keep making good impressions, be pretty and sing decently. They had no idea of the amount of pressure he had been, since fucking Madrid. Still… seeing the hurt on their faces only forced him to join the rest of the band and move on with the façade.

“Alright, good boy. Now, does anyone want to say some words?”

Jan cleared his throat before looking at the band. More awkwardly than dramatically this time. “Yes. So… we’ve made it this far and, uh…I don’t know, I love you guys so much, okay? There’s no one else I’d rather be doing this today than you, even if Bojan is bitchy today. So let’s carpe this fucking diem and have fun, alright?”

“Yes!”

“Make a wish…”

“Three, two, one!” And then they blew the tiny candle together. 

I wish for nothing. This stupid candle doesn’t care about my wishes. I don’t care anymore either.

He counted the minutes until Jere would arrive in the room. Instead of fiddling anxiously, he sat still in front of the mirror, letting his tiredness get to him. He knew the Bojan on his reflection, it was the same one that’s been calling him a coward. In less than a minute, he would prove him wrong.

Bojan would make sure to avoid any actual conversation and get to the fun times. That’s what Jere wanted, right? It’s not like what he wanted mattered, whatever timeline he ended up in.

Tanja had tried to make small talk with him a few times now. “Are you nervous?”

He shrugged. “I guess.”

Eventually, the door opened and Jure spoke. It was about damn time.

“Hey, Bojan. Jere wants to talk to you like, right now?” 

Bojan grinned, and kindly dismissed Tanja. “Please give us some privacy. Yes, Jure, he can come in.”

“Okay.”

Just as Tanja walked out of the room, Jere entered confidently. Bojan took his time to observe him as he stood up. His look was pretty much ready for the show, Green bolero in place, tight leather pants and his makeup was done as well, the eyeliner making his blue eyes shine even more than usual.

“Hello, handsome.” He took the courage to speak first, which froze his friend in place, a couple of steps away from Bojan’s. 

“I- Hi, Jokerman.” Jere stuttered. Cute. “I wanted to wish you good luck, since messages don’t seem to be working.”

He walked towards the Finn, placing his arms above the man’s shoulders and shamelessly leaning towards him. “ And what stopped you from coming here earlier?”

“What are you doing?” 

Bojan shrugged.

“I guess I’m tired of playing this dumb game too. I’m here now, but I don’t want to talk…” He leaned even closer, so his breath would easily mix with Jere’s. “I want you to take me anyway you wish, right here and now.”

Just like the other times, the other’s blue eyes took a deep look into Bojan’s, like trying to understand his mind, and Bojan let him. I dare you take it, Jere. Just do it.

He’d always wanted to be direct, and that’s exactly what Bojan was doing, wasn’t it?

“You can’t- you’ve ignored me for days, Bojan! And now you want us to…?”

“Sure.” He lowered his voice. “I know you want this…”

The air felt tense. The Slovenian had made his decision and put his cards on the table, leaving Jere to make the final choice. He would have loved for the Finn to break and push him against the wall, perhaps be rough to him and take out his anger from all those days.

But no, Jere wasn’t like that. No matter how many times he’d avoided him or not texted back, he’d never been angry until that day.

And yet, he untangled his arms from the self-hug he used to do for comfort and slowly moved them to hold Bojan like a fragile object. His fingers softly finding their way into a comfortable position.

“I do want this.”

The finn’s words pushed a button inside of him. Fuck being gentle. Bojan fully threw himself into the other’s arms while he pieced their lips together. Jere stepped back for a second but quickly joined in their battle for dominance.

Yes. Be angry. I deserve it .

“Isn’t it exciting?” he whispered into Jere’s ear. They pushed each other until they hit the couch, Bojan straddling him. A pair of hands carelessly roamed in his chest, doing their best to find the buttons on his shirt and undo them. “Anyone could come in right now… any second…”

“Yes…” Jere breathed out. 

He helped him with the remaining buttons, desperate for attention. His body was craving the touch. As soon as his shirt was fully opened, Jere held his hips and maneuvered them so his back hit the couch. Oh, he was enjoying this so much. Fun time was far from over.

“I’ve wanted you on top of me for a long time…” And it wasn’t a lie. Destroying the barriers he’d put before to his own mind, Bojan would find in his deepest desires this exact fantasy. Only him and his hotel shower had known about it until now.

He closed his eyes, letting himself feel a pair of lips kissing his jaw and working their way down. Good, it was time to know what that tongue was capable of-

“Jere…” He sighed, his friend’s (hah) mouth exploring every inch of his chest and then, his stomach–

A loud bang cut their makeout session short.

And then, Bojan felt his stomach burning.

No, not again. 

Someone help…

He tried to gasp for air, his sight blurry.

“..,jan? Bojan?”

Bojan blinked and realized Jere wasn’t on top of him anymore, but in front of him with a worried look in his eyes. He also was aware of his irregular breathing. They were still on the couch, so not much time must’ve passed.

“What happened?”

“Uh, you freak out when I kiss your scar…” Jere answered shyly. Scar? He had a scar? 

“What scar?”

“That one…” The Finn took one of his hands and guided it to the spot on his own stomach. Jere was speaking with a shocked tone, why...? “You have scar like mine.”

This made him stand up and walk to the mirror to take a good look at himself. If anyone were to come in now, they’d only notice their disheveled hair and his opened up shirt. No one else would find the odd, exact same copy of Jere’s scar showing on Bojan’s stomach. It was the same spot as well, below the belly button and a bit to the right. 

It was the place where the gunmen had shot him the first couple of nights.

That wasn’t there before. That scar had appeared today, at any moment between the morning, when he had tried to find a mark and didn’t, and right now.

“Fuck… this isn’t happening.” His stomach did a twist at the sight, meanwhile Jere looked even more in love, like the matching scars were a sign of them being soulmates instead of a sign of him having died.

Bojan’s stomach did it again, causing him to run to the trash can and hold onto it for dear life as the little food he had eaten left his body.

“Shit. Bojan!”

With the amount of smoking he’d done today, plus the lack of food that he then threw up, Bojan had made himself sick enough for the band and their team to decide they would not perform. And God, didn’t he hate himself even more now. If yesterday (today) he had tried his best to fix things, today he had done the absolute opposite. 

He ruined their chances of even getting on stage, which was his biggest fear in the first place.

It had been embarrassing enough that when Jure actually appeared in the dressing room, he didn’t find Bojan and Jere making out like he had aimed for. Instead he had found a crying, vomiting Bojan on the floor with a panicking Jere trying to figure out what was wrong. Oh, and with the signs of them having started a makeout session. Simply amazing.

They forced him into a blanket cocoon and sat him down on the couch for the rest of the evening, like a torture chamber where they put on the contest on the TV. He already knew what would happen. The jury would fuck up and then Loreen would win.

He didn’t even dare to look at his bandmates. He didn’t when they found him being a mess and he didn’t now. Bojan wasn’t prepared to see how angry they were. 

"Alright, Bojan. We're over this weird silence, talk to us man." He turned at Kris' voice. His best friend was sitting right beside him, not a trace of anger in his face. 

"Do you hate me?" His throat was itchy. No more smoking for him.

"What? We don't…"

"But we didn't perform because of me." He spoke as his eyes watered. Kris offered a sad smile.

"Dude, I prefer to have a healthy Bojan than a stupid trophy." 

“I wanted to lead us to victory…” It was a selfish wish, of that he was aware of.

“We know. But it’s not just up to you, man. You forget we’re a band and we have many other people helping us get there. Is that why you’ve been so stressed? You were scared of disappointing us?”

Would there be any point in him admitting it? He was sure his friends knew the answer was yes, of course. So he remained in silence instead, as the tears in his eyes let themselves go and roll on his cheeks.

“Bojan…” And with that, his four bandmates got closer so they could cuddle his blanket covered form. Bojan felt upset that everyone around him rewarded his awful behavior with nothing but kindness, which he definitely didn’t deserve anymore. “You’re not disappointing us. For what it’s worth, we only expect you to have fun, be your happy and healthiest form. If that means not going on stage, then so be it.”

“Okay…” He nodded between quiet cries. “I’m sorry I’ve been an asshole…”

“Did you see the rest of the contestants? I heard Luke fired a dancer and some other people back in rehearsals for a small technical mistake, like, it wasn’t even their fault…” Spoke Jan with a laugh. 

“Jesus, I didn’t hear that.”

“Now you have. So, stress makes us assholes sometimes… Is that everything that’s been bothering you, Bojči? You know we’re here for you…”

Were they? Bojan had given it thought all day, every repeated day. If he were to open himself up about this time anomaly he’s trapped in, what would they say?

“I… have been going through something I don’t know how to tell you about…”

Kris patted his hair. “Just tell us, we will figure it out together.”

“Do you guys remember the movie where this guy who did the weather got stuck on the same day over and over?”

“Yeah! Groundhog day! It’s a full classic right?” asked Jure. 

“I have been reliving this day for a while now, just like in that movie.” He made sure to avoid their gaze as he told them this one. Because there couldn’t possibly be a good, believable way to share this experience, could it? 

Bojan was met with a tense quiet in the room. 

“You guys believe me, right?” 

“I’m confused… you’re living your own Groundhog day?” Jan seemed to be the only one willing to listen to him.

“Yes, I don’t know why. This should be the fourth time I’ve lived the Grand Finale. See, right now, the public vote will give us 45 points and we will end up placing 21st.”

Everyone turned their attention back to the TV. They’d been announcing the televote for a couple of minutes now, and it was a bloodshed. Bojan didn’t particularly like to relive Germany’s 15 points or Teya and Salena’s 16 points.

His hopes were crushed as the hosts, instead of announcing the usual 45 points or maybe the 87 for last time where they’d placed 15th, said Slovenia had received 97 points from the public. He panicked, feeling his bandmates’ eyes piercing through his skin.

“But- you have to believe me, we had been 21st and… it was awful. I- Kris, please don’t look at me like that.” 

“I want to believe you but I also think you are really sick. Maybe you’ve dreamed of it?”

No. Fucking public. Also, how did they place better with the pre-recorded performance? This one hit his ego hard.

“Guys…” There would be no excuse to save him now. They fully thought he was going insane, and a hand being placed on his forehead to check the temperature was proof of it. “Don’t touch me, Jan. I can prove it. Now- Austria will have 16 points and then- In the end Jere will get the highest televote but it won’t be enough” 

It wasn’t enough.

“I think we should call someone for help, you guys.” Nace lowered his voice so Bojan wouldn’t hear him. He clearly failed.

“No- Please-” What would they do next? Place him in a psych ward? Put him on sedatives? He had to think of something fast. The only thing left on his checklist on what would happen today would be…

The two gunmen waiting on the emergency door.

Bojan untangled himself from the massive blanket. “If you guys don’t believe me, I will show you.”

And he ran out of the room. Jan, Nace, Kris and Jure following after him and calling out his name.

“Bojan! Don’t pull any dumb shit!”

Dumb shit was exactly what he planned to do. 

“Just come back! We’re sorry!”

If Bojan’s memory didn’t fail him, he still had enough time to run across the arena and still find the two men roaming around the back entrance he’d been in many times now. 

It was a shame they wouldn’t get to see he was right about Loreen winning. Now, he just had to make sure his friends were still following him.

“How are you so fast? Weren’t you sick?”

And once he found the damned door, he stopped in his tracks, turning to speak to the rest of the band. 

“There’s two armed men hanging outside this door. Their names are Teo and Petar and I’m 99% sure they’re Serbian. I don’t know what they want but in other versions of today, they shoot me right here.” He pointed at his stomach. Sometimes Bojan swore he still felt the bullet, buried deep inside his skin. 

They also stopped several feet away from him, scared of making the wrong move on him. Nace spoke first.

“Bojan, let’s just come back to the room.”

Bojan could only stare back at them. “I really thought you’d believe me. But I’m completely alone in this…” 

Well, then. It was up to him to solve it. 

He pushed against the door and walked outside. Being minutes earlier than usual, Petar and Teo were far from the entrance, just finishing preparing their weapons to go into the arena. Bojan couldn’t let that happen.

“Hey, Petar!” The younger man looked around at his name being yelled. 

“Don’t turn, you idiot!” He heard Teo hiss. 

Here came the complicated part. Bojan knew he shouldn’t let them go inside, but he didn’t plan the part where he would stop them. 

“Bojan, don’t!”

He was going to die anyway, so he decided on running towards the two men and jumping, successfully tackling Teo. His gun dropped on the ground away from them. 

“Petar, do something!” The man grunted in Serbian. There was a battle of strength as his hands tried to reach the gun and Bojan’s wanted to push it even further. “Use the gun!”

Whatever happened to We weren’t supposed to use them ?

“But- there’s five of them!”

“And you have a weapon! Fucking use it!”

At this point, the rest of the night felt orchestrated. Petar’s shaky hands pointed mainly at Kris, who was trying to regain composure from having chased Bojan. 

“No!” He jumped against his bandmates this time, and then, the loud bang came.

Bojan felt his back burning as his body collapsed against his best friends.

“BOJAN! BOJAN!” At least, he was glad it wasn’t someone else. Perhaps the solution was for him to accept death once and for all.

“Shit- I’m sorry-!”

“Petar, let’s just go.”

“Oh, no, you won’t-” As a pair of arms carefully laid him on the cold, hard ground on his side, this time he was able to see how Kris, followed by Nace, pulled out his cellphone and tried to record the robbers. They tried to pull on their masks, avoiding some punches being thrown around. 

“Hey, Bojan. Don’t you fucking dare close your eyes. Jure will find some help.” Jan’s voice began to fade in the background. Bojan could also hear someone’s uncontrollable sobs. Right, he fucked up. Maybe they believed him now, but it was too late.

“It’s fine, Jan. You should let me go…”

Jan’s hand found his and held it tightly.  “You can’t leave us. You’re my best friend…”

“I’ll be okay. Tomorrow I’ll be back to the hotel like this never happened…”

That’s what he prayed for, at least.

He was so tired. Instead of waiting for a salvation, Bojan closed his eyes and embraced the darkness that surrounded him instantly.

Chapter Text

The tide changes again.

“I told you. Fragile humans. They break easily.”

“You’re right. I think he really hated this one thought.”

“He sure did. Try not to mess up again with the scar, please.”

“Sorry, my lady. It was a slip up.”

“We can't do slip ups. Understood?”

“So… again?”

“You know it. He can only go up from here.”

“I hope you’re right about that too, my lady…”

Bojan woke up with a gasp, tangled between the bed sheets. 

“Oh, thank God…” He said out loud. He was very much alive, which hopefully could also mean he was back to May 13th and his fucked up decisions were fully erased.

He grabbed his phone to check the date. He was right and the screen displayed that today was May 13th, 2023. Holy shit.

But then, there was another fact: Bojan was exhausted as hell from trying to get out of here. So he asked himself, would it be too bad to use this timeline to just have fun? The good way, not in the “I’m gonna drag everyone down with me” one.

That sounded right. No more overthinking for today. Maybe tomorrow he could go back to scheming an escape plan. 

He opened the door to reveal a taken by surprise Mark. Bojan smiled.

“Good morning, Mark. It’s showtime, yes?” And then he hugged him. 

“Uh… good morning. It certainly is.”

“Can we pleeeease have one last walk around the city before we go into the arena? Pretty please?”

“I will think about it. There could be time, but now, go get breakfast, I can’t have you with an empty stomach if you do go out.”

“Thank you, Mark. You’re the best.”

Joker Out had their breakfast at the hotel, before being allowed to do one last trip around Liverpool. Some team members joined them, just to make sure none of them got lost on the way. Bojan liked to think they just wanted to sightsee with the band and didn’t admit it out loud. 

They ended up taking one of those buses with guided tours that lasted an hour. They also took a lot of pictures and videos to treasure their last moments in the UK. It had been a wild ride, and while Bojan wasn’t sure if it was over for him yet, he still held every moment dearly to his heart.

“Well… we’ve made it this far and, uh…I don’t know, I love you guys so much, okay? There’s no one else I’d rather be doing this today than you. So let’s carpe this fucking diem and have fun, alright?”

“Yes!” When the delegation members pulled out their phones, Bojan felt glad that, for once, he didn’t have to force his smile. Having gone out and taken fresh air helped lift his mood up by a lot . Perhaps he should’ve done more of that during these past couple of weeks, maybe things would’ve ended up differently for him and the band.

The five friends closed their eyes to think about their wishes.

I wish to have fun and only fun tonight.

“Three, two, one!” And then they blew the tiny candle together. 

Nace wrapped an arm around him while the other offered him a piece of cake.

“Is it vanilla with strawberries?”

“Uh, duh! It’s the Joker Out favorite!” He smiled, taking the plate.

“Thank you so much.”

“You’re in a good mood, Bojči. Did something or someone happen?” His friend wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, causing him to laugh midbite.

“No, dummy. I guess I’ve been getting a new perspective on things recently.” But… speaking of someone , Bojan really wanted to make things right with Jere. Not just being friends, but maybe approaching him in a less reckless way.

“Always the drama king. But we still love you like this.”

“And I love you too, guys.”

Instead of waiting around until Jere went to their room to talk, Bojan decided to take the initiative and find the Finn first. He had told Slovenia’s delegation he would disappear for quite some time but would be ready to perform on time. Of course, he was met with giggles and immediate teasing. Still, they let him go as long as he came back in one piece and without noticeable hickeys. Bastards.

He knocked the door on Finland’s room. It was Mikke who opened it, giving him a side eye. 

“Yes, Bojan? What can I help you with?” Bojan forgot that everyone in Finland’s delegation must be mad at him for having ghosted Jere for so long. Most particularly his big brother, pulling his protective facade.

“I want to talk to Jere, please.” 

“It was about damn time…” Mikke closed the door and Bojan felt disappointed. If this is how Jere’s brother was acting, he couldn’t imagine how mad Jere would actually be. As he prepared to leave, the door opened again. “You break his heart again, you’re dead, got it?”

“Yes, got it.” He nodded desperately as Mikke, a couple of dancers and some other members of the delegation walked out of the room. 

“We’ll be back shortly.”

“Alright…”

Like an invitation, the door was left open. Bojan sighed and walked in to find Jere shyly sitting on the couch. He was hugging himself like he’d seen him do it several times already. Bojan would find it cute if he didn’t know it was his way to offer himself comfort at the anxiety.

“Hi, Jere. You look good.”

“Hey, Jokerman. You too.”

“So…” He sat next to him avoiding his gaze. Fuck, Jere was right, he was not ready. This was, what, the fifth repetition? And he still hadn’t been able to come up with a proper, coherent sentence to tell the Finn. Bojan really grabbed the courage to walk up here just to say nothing.

“So.”

“Yeah, I can’t do this.” He told, mainly to himself and maybe to a higher being. It would be pretty nice if his way to die today was the earth opening up and swallowing him just right now. 

Bojan stood up, feeling dumb for trying and prepared to leave. He was stopped by a hand holding on to his sleeve.

“Wait…” 

He could feel Jere debating himself. There was a slight pull on the shirt, not hard enough to make him step back. 

“Bojan, I need my friend…”

But that’s the thing…

The fucking word friend flicked a switch inside of him, so he turned around and followed Jere’s pull like it was a string, tying them together. 

“I don’t want to be friends, Jere.” He barely managed to say before closing the gap between the two of them with a kiss. Okay, this was definitely the plan. Going with the flow.

Jere didn’t try to fight it and immediately melted into the embrace, like he’d been waiting for this to happen. He probably had. 

Bojan had zero idea of when their feelings blossomed, because their friendship had grown in a really natural manner. Did Jere wake up one day and thought “I like Bojan”? Or was he hit with the realization once someone confronted him about it like Bojan did? 

This time, their kiss wasn’t as fierce and passionate. Their touch was gentle. Slow. Quiet. 

They eventually had to pull back, taking deep breaths.

“I’m really bad at words.” Bojan stated. Jere giggled.

“I noticed. Can I speak then?” 

“Yeah, okay…”

“I’ve wanted this for a long time… but I think you’re not ready.”

What? “I’m here now, aren’t I?” 

After everything he went though, Bojan still couldn’t have what he wanted? Really?

“Bojan, you ignore me for days. You can’t change that with a kiss. Even if it’s really good kiss…”

But having made up and remained friends didn’t work either, did it? It had left him with an aching chest, maybe a broken heart. He stepped away, untangling himself from the sweet embrace they created with Jere, never breaking eye contact.

His head was spinning around. So nothing he’d do would be enough to fix his past mistakes? It made some sense to Bojan. No amount of ghosting could be repaired in a day…

“I know.”

“Eurovision ends tonight.” This time, Jere said it as a matter of fact, blue eyes still staring deep into Bojan’s.

“It does…” Where was Jere going with this? Bojan chose to not move, meanwhile the Finn seemed to be overworking his mind to figure out the next move. 

After a minute of awkward silence, Bojan was pulled back into Jere’s arms in a swift move. Oh?

“Then I think we use our time, but we talk later…”

“Okay. Sure.”

Were they both in their right minds to go ahead? Probably not. He was sure no one would be with the amount of stress they were. But his worries were long forgotten at the same time his and Jere’s lips met for a second time…

Bojan felt… euphoric, to say the least. No panic attack had interrupted their… activities inside Finland’s room. Maybe it helped that Bojan had actually eaten today and not smoked at all. It could also have been the more gentle way they treated each other, a good improvement from yesterday (today). 

He had come back to his friends with the biggest grin, his shirt buttoned the wrong way and hair a mess but, hey, no hickeys on sight. He was welcomed back by being teased heavily. When asked about what happened, Bojan could only respond with What happens in Finland's dressing room stays in Finland’s dressing room. They groaned in annoyance.

The show didn’t end as badly for them in Eurovision as he had expected. Quite the contrary, they had jumped from last repetition’s 10th place to 5th today. It was insane and Bojan was pleased, although he was also confused about the weird butterfly effect that must have been affecting their placing since the last couple of repetitions.

It also looked like only Joker Out’s places were affected during these, because the rest of contestants were still pretty unsatisfied with their results. And yes, not so shockingly, Loreen won.

“What on earth were those jury votes?” Luke Black asked between the crowd inside the green room. 

“That was unreal…” Said Kris with an excited voice. Bojan only hoped he wouldn’t need a smoke now. “We should celebrate!” 

Bojan would’ve immediately agreed if his attention wasn’t drawn to Finland’s room, where Jere seemed devastated. Well, maybe that word didn’t fully define the despair in his friend’s body language. Unfortunately, Jere was already surrounded by several of their friends, hugging him tightly and probably telling him he had won the public’s hearts. 

“I would love to, after I go to Jere.”

“Oooooh, loverboy to the rescue?” Jure asked teasingly. 

“Shut up…” But yes. Maybe. Hopefully?

At least, that’s what he planned. As soon as he’d find an opportunity, he would walk up to Jere, hug him tightly and then ask him what he needed to feel better.

Turned out, what Jere needed to feel better was him. 

More precisely, he needed Bojan underneath him on a bed in Jere’s hotel room.

More precisely… you could guess what happened.

And Bojan would be a dick not to help his friend, right?

Jere had been carrying a weird mix of emotions and had let them out during their intimacy. Bojan could feel his anger and frustration while also being able to tell something was holding him back. Being in the low mood he was, Jere still stopped occasionally to ask if he was okay, if he could continue. Always the gentleman, no matter what. 

“You okay?” Jere whispered against his mouth as they laid side by side, trying to control their breathing. Bojan could only nod. Only the Finn could leave him this speechless.

Before he could manage to ask him the same thing, Jere left the bed to go grab a towel in the bathroom to clean them up. Bojan really wanted to get used to this, but he was afraid it would not be possible. Well, he hadn’t died yet , and it was past 1 am, so the question was, was this the end of the loop or would this scene be suddenly taken from him to bring him back to his own room? 

As if he had thought it out loud, his phone rang, breaking the comfortable silence they had fallen in. He checked the screen to see Mark’s name. He didn’t exactly tell his friends he would leave to fuck Jere, but he knew them from years now, they could guess it. But had they not told the rest of the delegation? Bojan was in trouble, then…

“Hello?”

“Bojan, where are you?” This was not the calm, wise Mark he was used to. His voice was strained, which alerted Bojan. He gave a worried look to Jere, who had joined him back in the bed and offered the towel. If he had wanted more rounds, something in Bojan’s gut told him it would not happen…

“I’m… at the hotel. Is everything okay?” 

“God, Bojan. There isn’t a good way to tell you this.” The sirens in the background were surely a product of his imagination, right?

“Just- do it.” He gulped while his brain tried to predict what was coming. The day he had gotten the robbers caught way before they did anything, him and Joker Out still died in a car crash… but no one had left the place to have a smoke? Bojan had been the death magnet so far. And if he hadn’t been in the arena or with his friends, the other person he could think of was-

“It’s Kris. He got shot and they’re taking him to the hospital”

The phone fell from his hands as soon as he heard the words. Shit, there simply wasn’t a way for everything to turn out alright? He finally had gotten far with Jere, as far as he wanted, and the contest had been amazing for Slovenia. Bojan felt like solving this was as difficult as a rubik cube: when he fixed one side, the rest became a mess again. 

He was unable to control the sobs that came out of his mouth. Bojan was tired, he was done. 

Jere freaked out and grabbed the phone. “Hi, Mark. Jere here. What happened?”

His vision began to blur as he heard the Finn humming to Mark’s words. 

“Thank you, Mark. Yes, I will. Goodbye.” 

Once the call ended, Jere wrapped his arms around Bojan’s frame, offering comfort. Bojan hid his face on the other’s shoulder, letting the tears fall. 

Jesus, just take me now. End this. I can’t keep going. 

Was the finale to this nightmare his best friend dying? Instead of him? Where was the justice in that? 

The Finn explained to him what happened back at the arena. Apparently the gunmen found their way inside from one of the front entrances, where Kris had taken a smoke while they waited for a car to take them to a bar. And Kris, always wanting to play hero, fought back, which ended up in him getting shot on the stomach.

It was disappointing that, right after that, the two men had failed to get any further, because security tackled them as they made their way to Serbia’s room. No, they didn’t get any close to it.

“I don’t know what to do, Jere…” He whispered some minutes later, after his breathing calmed down and the tears started to dry on his cheeks. “I’m trapped.”

Perhaps Jere wouldn’t believe him either. At this point, Bojan was ready to tell him everything out of his need to be heard. He refused to move away from the tight hug, fearful of Jere’s response to his insanity. 

“I’ve been living today over and over and over and it always ends with me or my friends dying, mainly me… I’ve tried everything . What if it isn’t even real? I feel like I'm losing my mind…” 

There was no You’re sick. Not a You are going crazy, Bojan. 

Jere did force him to separate just enough so they were looking at each other. However, Bojan still tried to have his eyes look anywhere. 

A pair of hands slowly took his and maneuvered them. One of Bojan’s hands was placed against Jere’s chest, while the other was on his own heartbeat.

“Does this feel real?” With this, Bojan actually stared into those blue eyes before nodding. “Then it’s real, Bojan.”

Holy shit.

Was this Jere’s way to tell him he believed him? He didn’t quite say it like that but… he didn’t deny it either. 

“Jere, help me. I can’t do this on my own.” 

“Maybe… there has to be a way out. I’m just not too good to think right now…” 

“Shit, Jere, what do I do then?”

The Finn then moved away from the bed to pace for a bit around the room. “I might have idea… you will not like it.”

“I’ll do it.” He didn’t care about the rest, having someone believe him was already enough. 

“We need to restart the day, and when we do, you find me in the morning to plan solution, yes?” 

Bojan nodded. Okay, he could do that. However… “How do we reset it?”

“That’s the part you will not like…” 

He spotted the massive book being picked up by a hesitant Jere from the bedside table.

Ah, shit.

“I have to die, don’t I?”

Chapter Text

A body falls into the deep water, making the tide change.

“...again, my lady?”

“Yep. Again. We’re really close.” 

It already knows what to do. So, straightaway, it sends the human back.

Bojan woke up with a gasp, tangled between the bed sheets. 

He lifted his hand to rub the back of his head. Jere had actually not held back with that one, Bojan might have thought he just seized the moment to also get back at him for the days he was ignored. But did he really hit him that hard to kill him or was he knocked unconscious? He looked around, the mess around the room was definitely the type Bojan would do.

Right, the date. He checked his phone and there it was: May 13th 2023. Good. The next step was to talk to this morning’s Jere. He flicked through his notifications to find his name and opened the chat.

There was no easy way to explain the insane week he’s had. That’s what Bojan thought until Jere came in with a notebook and made him write down absolutely everything in the form of a calendar. Bojan cursed to himself because, how many days would he have avoided if he had come up to this guy earlier?

Jere was smart. He hid inside the Käärijä façade, wearing bright colors and being loud, making people underestimate him. But Bojan already knew he wasn’t just some brawn who also happened to rap. No, Jere had worked his ass off for Eurovision and in life in general.

However… there was something off putting about the incredibly confident way Jere approached the topic. This calendar, instead of having written the usual names of the week, had “Day one”, “Day two” and so to explain more easily the way time has been passing in Bojan’s eyes. 

He was also asked to write down the essential points of each day. Which events had repeated themselves exactly, which ones he changed and how every day had ended. Bojan also wrote how his mood had changed each time, because he thought it played an important factor as well.

He did casually mention their intimate acts during the past couple of days and, of course, he skipped where he had tried to kiss Alesandra, for his own sake. Didn’t want to experience the book in the head again.

“Hmmm, okay. So I’m thinking if Bojan dying was the real ending, your day wouldn’t restart.” Okay, that made sense. Also explained why yesterday's Jere didn't hesitate to fucking book him. “But I also don’t think you’re supposed to let your friends die. Doesn’t sound like a valuable life lesson to me.”

Bojan nodded. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. Except… here, on day three I avoided me or Kris being shot and still died by a car crash?” 

“Yes. I see. That’s weird.” He found it cute when Jere focused and rubbed on his chin to think. 

They were sitting in front of the other on Bojan’s bed. He’d asked Mark to please deliver their breakfast in his room because they had really important things to talk about. The producer didn’t believe him but still did as told, while also handing him the Joker Out Condoms "just in case". Bojan couldn’t tell him he’d already used some of those last night, for obvious reasons.

“Okay, let’s think about the two guys.”

“Yes, Petar and Teo. I know they’re from Serbia, I’m sure they hate Luke or something because on day five, yesterday, Mark told you that’s where they were aiming for. Here’s the thing: They didn’t get far. It’s quite the contrary. They just got immediately wiped by security.”

“And they never succeed?” 

“No.” He shook his head. “They don’t succeed in any timeline so far. I guess they’re not meant to. Ugh, it’s just- then why do I die if I stop them? They’re awful robbermen, Jere! I literally just die because Petar can’t use a gun for his life.”

“It sounds to me they’re not even there to rob or kill.”

“Why carry guns then?” 

“They want in and to be threatening, like when they encounter you or Kris.”

“Hm… could there be another way to stop them? If just getting them arrested by security is not it, there has to be something else I could do.”

“Why do they want to go into the arena? Do you know?”

“To… kill Luke? No- They’re not supposed to use the guns, that’s what Teo said since day one”

“But they’re angry with Serbia. You say he gets death threats. How do two angry Serbians fly to Liverpool with bad plans and fail?”

“They… don’t.” It didn’t make sense to waste all your money to fly to the UK, somehow get guns and then intend to just walk into the biggest contest in Europe, did it? 

He thought back to day four, when he was being a grumpy, sick mess. 

He was crying. Broken that his friends were still cuddling him and forgiving him for his awful behavior after they didn’t go on stage.

He had said “I’m sorry I’ve been an asshole…” And then Jan… then Jan said:

“Did you see the rest of the contestants? I heard Luke fired a dancer and some other people back in rehearsals for a small technical mistake, like, it wasn’t even their fault…”

And Bojan was an idiot, not paying enough attention to put the pieces together.

“Jere, I just remembered… Luke fired a lot of people on, like, the first days of rehearsals.”

“Yes. I remember too. You don’t think…?”

Bojan nodded and pulled his laptop open between them. They could take a wild guess, writing in the browser the names they had and put them together with “Serbia” or “Luke Black”.

A wave of disappointment crossed their faces when no article was found. Which was interesting… He sighed. “If these people despite Luke wouldn’t they use any chance to ruin his image and tell the world they were fired?”

“Yeah… check twitter, it’s full of haters.” 

“Okay…” They scrolled down a bit. Most of the tweets were in Serbian, and Bojan had a loose grasp of the language thanks to his family. “There. Translate it.”

@Петар_је_плесач: Just got fired. I left everything behind to be in Eurovision and they threw me out like trash? Fuck Luke Black…

There were many replies to this tweet. 

@YoungBizarre2001: Luke Black is a shitty human being. I thought everyone knew that.

@itsnoanoa: His song isn’t even that good! What will he do when he has no staff left?

“Whoa, I think that must be him” He clicked on Petar’s profile. “I didn’t see his face but he’s young… The body shape seems similar, I guess. But how can I know it’s him?”

“I think you have to talk to him.”

“What? I just go up to him and tell him ' Hey I know you’re trying to get revenge on Luke, please don’t' ?”

“Yes? You haven’t tried that yet!”

“Jere, I will get shot way before I even get a chance.” 

“I think Petar is still human. He shot you by accident.” 

Bojan took a deep breath. He guessed it wouldn’t hurt to actually hold a conversation with the young man. After all, he didn't mean to kill anybody. Maybe he didn’t even want to go with the plan. Teo seemed very bossy and intimidating enough.

“I will try… I could go during the interval act after we perform.”

“Sounds good.”

They found an answer. A weight was lifted from Bojan’s shoulders, although there was still work left to do.

“Jere… can I ask you something?” A pair of blue eyes met his.

“Yes, yes.”

“How did you believe me? My bandmates were ready to put me in a hospital and you just accepted to come here…” 

He did question him, not about his sense of reality but about the events he’s been living through. 

Jere took a moment to think about his answer. “Well… When I was kid in Vantaa and Mikke was teenager, he met a girl who said she had lived her day on repeat, just like you say. She left because everyone thought she was crazy but everything she said that day became true. I pay attention but never see someone experience that again until now…”

“So… did you keep contact with her? Where is she now?” 

“She’s in France. I don’t know much, but she didn’t lose her mind if that’s what you want to know.” 

“Thank you for listening to me, Jere. It means a lot” Bojan felt the courage to place a hand over Jere’s. “There might be something else we should talk about…”

“I think that too.”

Oh, Jere. The absolute sweetheart. Bojan hadn’t even apologized to him and the FInn still came over to his room to help him without a doubt. Would there be a proper way to make it up from the awful treatment he’d given him so far in the real timeline?

“You told me yesterday that no amount of… kissing or else would make up from the days I ignored you. I’m sorry.”

“Jere was right, then.” He was offered a smile. 

“Tell me… how can I fix this one? How can I fix.. us?”

“You know that I wanted to wish you good luck in person later, yes?”

“Yeah…”

“What did I say back then?”

“You said… You needed your friend. But you also implied you want something more.”

“Yes, yes. Jere is right again.” His friend raised his chin, feeling proud of himself. God, why was he so adorable? 

“You also said I wasn’t ready.”

At the beginning, Bojan was annoyed. Ready for what? It sounded dumb in his head to repeat the question. Now, he was fully aware of what it had really meant.

“Do you feel ready?” 

“I’d be lying if I said I was.” 

It was that easy to open up about his feelings? Perhaps if Bojan hadn’t been busy trying to come up with the perfect performance to win Eurovision… 

“So, Jere gives you advice: You can’t go from ignored to romance in a day. You still hurt me badly. My brother see that. Friends do too. But maybe you can go from ignored to friends again, and if you want romance, we work it out together. Just not today. Yes?”

“You make everything sound so easy… Yes, Jere, let’s do that.” And Bojan really wanted tomorrow to arrive as soon as possible, if that meant having hope something between him and Jere would evolve. He had an urge to kiss the other man and even leaned in only to be interrupted by Jere grabbing the notebook.

“I forgot something! You also need to die today! Very important!”

“What? Noooo…” He whined.

“Yes, yes. You die and then fix everything for real…”

The rest of the day passed in a blur. All he could focus on was his mission to find and talk to Petar or Teo, hoping their wild guess from the morning was correct. He fully forgot to help Noa or Alessandra when he was backstage, although, to be fair, he was helping Luke. Somehow. Even if Bojan knew the gunmen wouldn’t actually manage to lay a finger on his Serbian friend.

He really tried to not be impatient and failed. Kris had called him out on his notorious anxiety, Jan begged for him to stop bouncing his leg. Nace, like always, tried to hug him out of his stress and lastly, Jure made fun of him, saying they knew who he did this morning and asking if that’s what’s been giving him mood swings lately.

Bojan, in return, kindly asked them to fuck off. 

He’d only waited for Mae to finish her performance because Jere had said it would be risky or without any results to leave early to find the Serbian men. As soon as her song ended, Bojan jumped from his seat.

“I have to uh.. pee. See you.”

The original plan was for him to go alone. So, pretty much on auto pilot, he walked and followed the route to the damned door he’d crossed many times now. 

He found no men dressed in black. In fact, there was no one hanging by the door, but several meters away. There was a young man, surely younger than him, waiting for something. Bojan gave himself a minute to analyze his features. This would be Petar, light skinned with noticeable freckles, light brown hair and honey-colored eyes. Those scared eyes he recognized. 

He walked up discreetly and pulled his best British accent. “Hello! Do you happen to have a lighter I could borrow?”  He spoke, raising his hand with a cigarette. Being an actor wasn’t for nothing.

Petar stuttered at the sight of a person. “Uh- no- I don’t smoke. Sorry”

“Ah, bollocks . Thanks anyway. How’s Eurovision treating you?”

“Not as good as I thought it would. To be honest with you.” The young man looked down. It was weird to have a face connected with the awful actions he’d seen him commit previously. Jere was right: Petar was just a person. A person who lost a job in very unfortunate circumstances. “You? You work here?”

“Ah, yes. I… merely bring the coffee. Not very special, innit?”

“At least you still have a job. I was supposed to dance on stage with Serbia but they fired me.”

“Really? That sucks…” Bingo.

“Yeah, it’s just-! It was my breakthrough! Everyone back home makes fun of me for dreaming of dancing. I was going to prove them wrong this week but…” Petar broke into a sob. “I’m sorry. You’re just a stranger.”

“Hey, no. You’re just a kid who wants to accomplish your dream, don’t feel guilty about that…”

“You don’t even know me! Why are you being nice to me?” 

He sighed. If Bojan was honest, he’d tell him he was seeing a young version of himself in Petar. Full of dreams but having them crushed by the cruel reality. Not everything turned out the way he wished for.

“I don’t know. Everyone deserves to be treated nicely. I guess they weren’t before?”

“No. They threw me out like trash! Fucking Luke Black!”

“What did he say to you?”

“He… didn’t. It was his manager. He only told us we were a nuisance and left us to fetch for ourselves. The asshole didn’t even pay us! Aren’t they supposed to pay you if you get fired?”

“Yes, you’re right. It’s the law.” 

“It’s annoying! They’re out there acting like they didn’t drop jobless people in a foreign city.”

So they weren’t exactly going after Luke. Bojan could remember the Serbian thought the death threats and online bullying was for no particular reason other than the internet being filled with its usual trolls. Could it be that Luke’s manager called the shots and never told his singer about them? What a mess…

“Is that why you’re going to do it?” There. He said it and dropped the dumb accent too. If he got shot earlier than usual tonight, Bojan would blame Jere without hesitation next morning. 

Petar looked like a scaredy cat. “I.. don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Ah, come on, Petar. I know why you’re here. You’re waiting for Teo to bring, what, clothing to hide your identities? Do you know he will bring guns too?” 

Man, he was feeling like an actual adult with actual authority.

“I… no, he’s not. He said we’d just have a chat with the Serbian delegation.” 

“Riiiiight. And how do you think you will go past security? You have no ID’s anymore… What do you think Teo will do?”

“He wouldn’t.” Petar took a step back, noticeably questioning the truth behind Bojan’s words.

“I’ve seen him… Petar, you really don’t want to do this. If you let yourself be persuaded by Teo’s dumb ideas, you might end up taking a life, even if it’s by accident.”

“I…”

“And when you do this, what about your future? You’re what, nineteen?”

“Twenty…”

“You’re going to screw any future chances on your dancing career for revenge with Luke’s manager? For a ‘chat’?”

“N-no! That’s not what I want!” 

Bojan offered his hand to the younger man, unable to believe how far he’d gotten by just talking to Petar. “Let me help you. I will personally talk to Luke, he might not even know about this. He’s a good person, I promise.”

The Serbian raised his hand. He kept it in the air, hesitating. Of course, in Petar’s eyes, Bojan was just an assistant who brought the coffee he had met a few minutes ago.

“You promise?”

“Yes, Petar…”

A car pulled up right by then. There was Teo, coming out of it with an angry expression.

“Who is this?”

“Wait... how do you know my name?” The other’s hand dropped instantly. Fuck. 

“I… I…” Bojan felt the panic creep up his body as Petar stepped back to join Teo. They eyed him and spoke in Serbian so he wouldn’t understand.

“Do you know who the pretty boy is? He’s a singer , Petar. What did he tell you?”

“He knows about your plan.” No, damn it.

At the words, Teo stopped hiding the gun under the black clothing in his arms and raised it to point directly at Bojan’s middle. 

“No, Petar, I trusted you!”

“Sorry… I do not trust you .” 

“Was I in the slightest convincing?” Petar avoided his stare with the question. He hoped it meant Yes. “You know you will fail?”

“We won’t! You know nothing!”

“I know your name is Teo, you must be older than me… maybe 27? You’re not a dancer like Petar, you were part of the technical team and you also got fired by Luke Black’s manager. I’ve seen your hate tweets. You post a lot of those, by the way. Have you heard of the digital footprint…?”

Now that one did earn him the familiar bullet in the stomach. A loud bang echoed through the back street. 

“Teo! What did you do?!”

“Yeah, okay. I deserved that one for trying to be smart…” Bojan carefully sat on the cold, hard ground as Petar ran up to his side, finding it difficult to breathe at the sight of his shirt turning red slowly.

“I’m sorry. I was going to say yes..” He put his hand over Bojan’s wound. “I don’t want this to define my life…”

“I know, Petar.” 

“Petar! Let’s leave him. No one has to know it was us.” Yelled Teo in the background. Bojan held onto Petar’s hand. 

They were right. Jere and him had figured it out. Good.

“What’s your name?” Petar was unaffected by Teo’s angry voice, instead directing his attention to Bojan.

“I’m Bojan. You know what’s funny? You were the one to tell him to leave me behind the first time.”

“Huh? What first time?”

“Petar–!”

“I’m not leaving him, Teo! This is wrong!” But he’d forgotten Teo was also physically stronger and bigger than Petar. The older one pulled Petar by the arm. Petar yelped in pain. “NO!”

“You can’t back down now! He’s going to die anyway and what? You want the police to find you next to his body?”

“Hey guys… for what it’s worth. I will try to help you anyway.” He said between gasps. Sixth repetitions and yet, nothing would make him get used to the burning sensation of the bullet buried in his stomach. 

Heh.. it was back on the same spot as Jere’s scar. Funny…

“Bojan-”

“Let’s go, Petar! We will find another way in…”

Bojan was left alone.

How hypocrites. Complaining about being dropped and left on their own while doing the same to him? Not cool…

He wondered what would be happening at this moment inside the Arena, did they announce Joker Out in 21st again? Was Loreen the winner? Meh, who was he kidding, of course she would win. She was annoyingly talented.

All he had to do next was embrace the darkness and next, making one last effort on the next repetition, if he got one. 

Bojan really wanted another chance. He’d got it. He knew the answer now…

Please…

Chapter Text

The tide changes. And the water can tell something’s changed.

It sends Bojan back to the surface, without much to say.

“You’ve got this...”

Bojan woke up with a gasp, tangled between the bed sheets. 

Out of habit, he brought a hand to his stomach to seek for a scar and found nothing. The tangled mess of thoughts that was previously on his mind was long gone. He felt… at ease. A part of him trusting that he would do what’s right, no need to overthink it further.

He checked his phone: It was May 13th, 2023. This was it. Eurovision Grand Finale day. He was ready. Even if his anxiety had quite literally killed him before and then brought him back to life over and over again, today he found no more what ifs, no more worst case scenarios. He’d already been through most of those. 

He scrolled through the Good Luck messages his family and friends had sent him, making sure to answer them all. Bojan had to thank them for the big support no matter what. He also made sure to find the name “Jere <3” between those messages. His stomach did a backflip as he typed out “Hey, thank you so much. Good luck to you too, you’re gonna be great.” and sent it. Yes, he was giggling like a teenager with a crush.

He did have a crush. There was no point in denying or fighting it. That was over.

A knock on the door tore his eyes away from his cellphone. It was Mark’s muffled voice calling out his name.

“Bojan, nine o’clock. Rise and shine, because today it’s showtime." 

“Thank you, Mark! I’ll meet you at the restaurant!”

Bojan took a deep breath. He knew the drill. It was showtime. Except, he added one important thing to the list. It was to call Luke Black and obviously lie to tell him about Petar and Teo. He would make something up like, he got a tip on his instagram, or whatever.

“Hello, Bojan?” 

“Hey, Luke. Can we have a chat during breakfast?”

After Luke promised him to look into Bojan’s information about the people his manager had fired, they were all sent into the arena to work the final details in their performances. 

To keep a cool attitude, Bojan decided to not open his social media for the rest of the day, he didn’t need the unnecessary drama and comments coming from there. Once he locked his phone and put it on “Do not disturb” mode, he gave himself one last look in the bathroom mirror. He was fine, right? It wasn’t freaky how relaxed he felt… right?

Okay, yes. Part of him was constantly screaming for help on the inside. If things worked out for real this time, he wouldn’t die. Cool. He still had Eurovision to face. The internal screaming would remind him that they wouldn’t even place high, he would dare to say it was perfectionist Bojan from the first repetition. And then, current day Bojan would tell that part to please shut the fuck up and enjoy the night, no matter what result they would keep in the end. 

Joining the backstage area, he remembered to help some of his friends relax for a bit. Noa’s assistant brought her a bottle of water and, before she took a sip, Bojan approached her.

“Hey, Noa. I don’t know about you, but I feel like if we don’t help Alessandra over there-.” He pointed at the other side of the hall where Alessandra was, indeed, struggling to breathe. “-she might pass out soon.”

“Oh, shoot! Let’s go then!”

Bojan didn’t like how Ale kept to herself about her tight corset to any of the wardrobe assistants, and he told her as soon as she let them into the dressing room to help her.

“I’d feel bad…” She whined as Noa worked wonders on the weird knot they did on their friend. “Thank you guys, you’re my heroes.”

“Girl, you need to tell them. It’s their job, not to kill you from suffocation.” Noa flopped on the coach, wiping her forehead with a hand dramatically. She grabbed her bottle of water and actually drank from it without complaining about the temperature. 

“Yes, Ale. We wouldn’t want to lose you on stage because of it…” He completed.

“It’s just… have you ever felt like you’re losing your mind but everyone around you just thinks you’re exaggerating?” 

The singers nodded. “All the time! Especially this week, have you seen how pissy we’ve been?” Noa laughed. “I was about to murder someone for this bottle.”

“Yeah, and I have been stressing the hell out about being perfect.” Thank God he was done with that.

“The people in our delegations must think about getting us therapy after this.” 

“Yeah! I’m pretty sure I might need one regardless of the result.” He agreed with the girls. He probably needed therapy way before the time loop. He now had a few good reasons to go. 

On his way to Slovenia’s room, he located Katya, Luke’s assistant.

“Hey, where’s Luke?”

“Oh, he’s having an emergency meeting with his manager, who I’m sure is getting fired after having kicked out many people weeks ago without telling Luke. He’ll be back soon.” 

Ah, good. Fuck that manager, by the way. 

“Thanks, Katya. Do look after him. He might act like he doesn’t care about the internet’s opinions but I know deep down he’s terrified.”

She offered a smile. “Oh, I know that too. He’s just in his ‘stubborn artist’ moment. You’ve all had those.”

“You’re damn right.”

Bojan joined his friends with an excited yell. “Joker Out anniversary!!”

“Hell yeah!” He took his time to hug everyone in the room, including Mark, who seemed weirded out by his behavior since the morning, before the rest of the band proceeded to copy him.

“Hey! Hey! I appreciate all the love today but please cut the cake before it melts! I have a vlog to film!”

“Naww Mark don’t ruin the moment” Bojan whined. He waved his hand around to get his friends to all trap Mark in the same embrace and they did it. “You know you love us!”

“Yeah, Mark! Carpe Diem!” They jumped around like little children until their producer pushed them away and forced them to sit on the couch, preparing his camera.

“Be good boys and smile for the camera, or else.”

“Wait! I have written something…” He pulled out a crumpled sheet of paper from his pocket. Everyone in the room directed their attention to him as he exaggeratedly cleared his throat. “So. First of all I know I’ve been really grumpy and in full control freak mode. I guess I really wanted the journey to be worth the results, otherwise I would’ve thought coming here would’ve been a waste of time. But being here, surrounded by everyone, after all the work each and every member has done to drive us until the Grand Finale, makes me think it was definitely worth the wait. Guys…” he turned to look at Kris, Nace, Jan and Jure. “I love you so much. There’s no one else I’d rather be doing this today than you. So let’s Carpe this fucking diem and have fun.

Oh, and finally, that cake better be vanilla with strawberries or I’ll take back everything I just said.”

“Yes!” Jure exclaimed as the room exploded in laughs and clapping. 

“Alright, now, close your eyes and think of your wishes…”

Bojan sat back down in the middle of his friends as the delegation members prepared their phones to do a full photoshoot of the moment. He took a moment to think.

I wish…  for this, right now. 

“Three, two, one!” And then they blew the tiny candle together. 

“I really loved your speech, by the way. It’s like you took the words right out my mouth.” Jan jokingly pushed him from one side as Nace hugged him from the other.

“You’re in a good mood, Bojči. Did something or someone happen?” His friend wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Bojan laughed and grabbed a plate.

“Do I have to remind you I have been a dick to Jere and ignored him for days?”

“Well, I thought you had fixed things up with him already. It’s our last night here, bud.”

“Yes, yes. I know. I will, I promise. I wouldn’t want to leave like this.”

“Good. Now, keep eating your cake.” 

Nace put a hand under his plate to push it against his mouth in one swift movement, smearing part of Bojan’s face with the icing. “You didn’t! Bastard!”

He untangled himself from his friend’s embrace. This meant war. Another plate was taken from the table and thrown against Nace’s face. 

They ignored Mark’s sigh as cake started to fly around the room. 

“You’re like actual kids…”

And as a little kid, he kept fiddling around when Tanja did his makeup after removing the cake icing on his face. She kept telling him off, asking him to stay still or else his eyebags would be visible on international TV.

“Sorry, Tanja. You can tell I’m nervous.”

“Yes, I can.” and he was getting itchy again. He was being a really sweaty mess. The door opened, interrupting the woman’s work. On the corner of his eye, Bojan saw Jure’s blonde hair.

“Hey, Boj… Jere wants to talk to you like, right now.” He took a deep breath. He practiced this morning, he also wrote a speech for this moment as well just like he did for the cake. Bojan could do this.

“Okay, let him in. Tanja, will you give us some space, please?” She nodded, squinting her eyes at him before walking out. Bojan liked her, but this conversation was meant to be private from the beginning.

He gave himself a final look in the mirror before grabbing the courage to actually focus on Jere, standing up from his chair. Jere’s performance look taking his breath away as always, the FInn walking inside very confidently. Bojan knew it was a facade, because very quickly he would see the other’s hands trying to hug his own frame.

“Looking good, Jokerman.” 

“Thanks, Jere. I-” He expected to freeze up under the other’s blue eyed gaze. So, he forced his hands to seek for another piece of paper where he wrote his thoughts in the morning. “I wrote something.”

“Okay…” Bojan felt Jere’s burning gaze, like trying to read his mind, while he extended the paper and began to read. 

“I’m a songwriter and yet, when it comes to you, words struggle to come out properly. So I’m sorry I can’t look you in the eyes when reading this, and I’m sorry I have been ignoring you for a while now. I know nothing will justify my actions but, for what it’s worth, I’ll explain anyway. Before I would have only said I was busy. It’s not entirely true. I avoided you on purpose because I was hit with the realization that I have feelings for you. I wanted our friendship to become more than that. I guess I still want that. 

However… I wasn’t ready. I let these fears about losing Eurovision take over me and became a winning-obsessed dickhead who forgot to enjoy the ride. I’m still not ready. I’m scared. I feel too much pressure all the time, like I will die at the first moment I make a mistake. I know nothing I will do or say today can make up for the days I hurt you. I still want to try, starting by mending our friendship… Would you forgive me?”

There. He put all his cards on the table. Bojan felt glad to have written everything down, even more so about the fact that he said those words out loud. 

A hand was placed under his jaw softly, making him look up. Oh, Bojan felt like crumbling right there and then, having Jere face to face mere centimeters away from him.

“Thank you, Bojan. I forgive you.”

“Good…” He whispered. His knees were ready to give up.

“My brother is mad at you, he’ll be harder to convince.”

“I will do my best.” A pair of blue eyes flicked to his lips. Oh? Testing the waters, Bojan might have leaned in just a bit. The Finn didn’t complain.

“Good.”

“Good.” 

Fuck it.  

The small gap between them closed as their lips connected. It was a mere touch, none of them really moving their mouths any further, but it was enough right now. 

Whatever happened to You can’t change that with a kiss?  

Jere was an absolute liar and Bojan didn’t mind one bit.

“Are you ok– Oh” The kiss was broken by Jure’s entrance. Bojan wanted to murder his friend, who observed with a goofy grin on his face. “You know what, I will check on you later.”

“Yes, Jure. Thank you.”

Once the door closed and the couple found themselves alone again, Jere cleared his throat. 

“Umm... that was nice.”

“Heh. Yeah. I guess a good kiss will not make up for the days I’ve ignored you?”

“No. But it’s a good start.” Jere took a step toward and motioned Bojan in for a hug. He could get used to the other’s warmth. 

“Good.” Then he would try to go for lots of those sweet little kisses in the future and work his way into full, genuine, forgiveness. Fun time wouldn’t be over soon.

“I would hate losing in Eurovision… but I’d hate losing you more…"

"Me too, Jere."

“Hey, Bojan. I’ve heard you got your shit together with a certain Finnish man. Good for you” Luke poked at his chest back in the hallway. Bojan groaned, how fast did words fly around here?

“Yeah, you could say that. What about you? Are you good?”

“Yes, everything is fine. I wanted to thank you. You were right about those guys my idiotic manager fired. I had no idea of this bullshit happening right under my nose.” Luke shook his head.

“Cool. Fuck that guy, respectfully. What will happen to these people?”

“They’re around here. I personally spoke to most of them and also apologized for the misunderstanding. Pulled some strings around so they will join the Eurovision crowd and receive the payment my manager took from them.” He sighed in relief. Luke Black was a really kind hearted person, as he had told the other version of Petar. Bojan was glad they got to see it from themselves after all.

“I’m glad. This might sound out of pocket to you but I think you saved lives by doing this.”

“I know. I’m amazing, aren’t I?” And a very modest man, of course.

They were back to 21st place by the end of the televote. Bojan couldn’t hide the hint of disappointment from his face as the hosts said the rest of the votes. It was a shame he couldn’t change that one unless he lost himself or one of his best friends. Was this the definitive grand finale to the Grand Finale?

The final result was announced. Loreen became a two time winner and she ran up to the stage while everyone else left their seats to talk to their friends or delegations. Mainly, to complain because there wasn’t a timeline where the jury wouldn’t massively fuck up. 

“So, that was unreal.” Kris let out a deep breath, trying to dry his sweaty hands on his pants. “I think I need a smoke right about now.”

“I suggest we go find Jere first aaaand later, we get blackout drunk to forget about tonight.” He smiled to himself at the idea. They all turned to find the bowl cut between the crowd. Jere was still there somewhere, being drowned by the love and support of other contestants. Good, he deserved it.

“Dude, you just want to go back to your boyfriend. Fine, whatever.” Kris scoffed and pushed him jokingly. Bojan still felt a pang of fear about Kris wanting to leave. It disappeared as soon as he looked over to Serbia’s room. There was Luke speaking to a very enthusiastic Petar, a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. He couldn’t see Teo around. He just hoped the man didn’t fall into the deep end and decided to try to off people anyway. Or, if he did, that he at least left Petar out of it. And also Bojan and Kris. 

Several minutes later, Bojan navigated through the Finland-supporting-crowd until he found Jere in the backstage area. He had left the green bolero behind, so Bojan picked it up and put it on. 

When he spotted the Finn, he was being hugged by Alika. It certainly hurt the way Jere spoke badly about himself for not being good enough for the win. If only he knew how much the public adored him in every single timeline he’d been in. It seemed like a universal fact for Bojan.

He approached his friends and broke their hug with a loud: “Pidän kaksin käsin kiinni juomista niinku!”

Jere and Alike broke into laughter as other people around them continued the chanting of “Cha Cha Cha!!” Bojan felt quite proud to bring back Jere’s smile, so he kept dancing around and even held a big Finnish flag to pretend he was the older man. Jere’s laugh was like music for his ears. 

Although, he also didn’t mind the “Thank you for being a friend, Bojan” from the Finn right after, while they held each other tightly. 

“Alright, you idiots. I will tell you all about me and Jere-” he started speaking as Joker Out entered a car that would lead them to a crappy bar to get the closest to an alcohol poisoning to support Finland after that. Of course, before he could finish his sentence, his bandmates had already started with the teasing.

“Oooooh, finally!”

“I need to know what happened earlier at the dressing room, Jure won’t tell us-”

“Yeah, tell us!”

“Like, at least you’re not leaving before giving him a smooch, right?”

Bojan sighed. “As I was saying, I will tell you if you don’t fucking unbuckle your seatbelts under any circumstance until we arrive to the bar, am I clear?” 

They looked at him like he just grew a second head.  

“That’s it? I thought it was worse.” Shrugged Jan.

“Just- fucking promise me. Or else what happened in the dressing room will stay in the dressing room.”

“Fine, fine. Jeez, you sound like my mom.”

“Okay. Good. We can go now.”

Chapter Text

The water remains calm. Not a body in sight yet.

“Aw, I’ll miss this…”

“I know. We’ll be here for the next one, and the one after that…”

“Yeah. It’s always a pleasure to work with you, my lady.”

“Likewise.”

Bojan slowly blinks his eyes open. The light streaming through the window forces him to look away as he yawns. It’s probably the first time he’s had a good sleep in a while, he doesn’t even want to leave his bed.

Except it’s not his bed. If he turns around, he will find Jere laying on his stomach, face buried on the pillow. Not that Bojan minds the view of Jere’s back. He’s always had a weakness for it.

Something is off… As usual, he finds his phone on the bedside table and checks the day, frowning.

It’s May 14th, 2023.

He releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He’s free. He broke the time loop. Something he didn’t think was possible at this point. 

Bojan just spent, what, a full week of Eurovision Grand Finales? 

And it’s over now.

Thank you, whatever higher power exists out there.

He recalls how the definitive version of May 13th ended. After making sure they would all survive the ride without any setback (by forcing their driver to take a different route than last time), Bojan and his friends had followed Jere’s delegation to a small bar in Liverpool. As an attempt to cheer up Jere, they did shots and probably mixed different beverages, then danced around like there was no tomorrow. If you’d asked Bojan then, he would have believed there wouldn’t be one. Now, he knows there is indeed a tomorrow where he has a headache and is really thirsty. 

It had been a really good party though. Not only had he had the most fun in quite a while, but Jere had also dragged him back to his hotel room when they were too drunk to function. Bojan had hoped that they would get steamy under the sheet. Well, they did undress except for their underwear. It just happened that, as soon as they hit the bed, they fell asleep and didn't move an inch after that.

It feels better to have a hangover than having been shot multiple times. Bojan will take that any day now. Those ghostly sensation of the bullet below his belly button, the shards of glass on his skin or a book hitting his head with an immense strength are slowly fading away from his muscle memory. 

Somewhere between day three and five, Bojan had dug deep into the internet to find any information he could find about time loops. In a deeply hidden community on Reddit, he had found people sharing their experiences on time anomalies, even other extraordinary events such as alternative universes and traveling through them. 

There wasn't much to explore. He realized many of the posts about time loops were written by people who decided to share what happened to them right after they got out and by the people closest to those who lived it, like the way Jere remembered for the girl from Vantaa. This is because, they said, the timeline will solidify and cause him to forget about his days stuck on repetition. 

Involuntarily, a hand reaches to his stomach and finds the sensation of a scar. Right there, below his belly button, mirroring Jere’s, except it’s not as noticeable. 

He debates about writing everything in a journal or telling Jere before he forgets. He takes his time to think about it before his lover (or something along those lines) wakes. 

The truth is, he actually has no reason to want to remember it. If you ask him, he just came back from hell. Why would he want to stay stuck on that? Why, if he's content with the way his day ended?

The only thing he does is open his notes app to write a checklist.

Ask Jere about the girl from Vantaa who lived the same day over and over.

Find Petar from Serbia, what does he do now? Does he accomplish his dream?

Are you actually dating Jere? Are you happy?

He might come up with more tasks later. Those, and the slight mark on his skin will be the only reminders of his Grand Finale insanity. 

He will also read the Joker Out group chat later. He takes a peek at the notifications and he just knows they'll be teasing him for having left with the Finn and waking up at 11 am.

He feels Jere moving beside him. Bojan smiles and lays back, letting himself relax. Thankfully, the internet strangers, only connected to him by the same extraordinary experience, had also said no one had ever fallen into a second time loop after the first one. So he's safe. 

In the back of his mind he will keep wondering for a while if there's a scientific, logical reason behind the time loops. Maybe there will be one day, when he's stopped remembering it.

"Hmmm…" Jere mumbles something in Finnish and moves around. Once he's facing Bojan he speaks in English. "Morning. You okay?"

"Are you?"

" Are youuu?" They giggle. God, he's glad to have this back. 

"But for real. I'm fine, although I'm still not processing yesterday."

"Same… it was real, was it?"

You're asking me?

"I think so, yes." If sleepy Jere is a hallucination, that's also okay. 

The Finn moves to lay on his back, and then grabs both Bojan's hands to maneuver them. Bojan gets hit with a sense of deja vu.

One of his hands is placed over Jere's chest, right where his heart is and where he can feel it. The other one is directed to his own heartbeat. 

"Does this feel real?" Jere says.

Does it? He looks into those blue eyes, glistening with the sunlight. This is Jere, whom he has fallen for since freaking Madrid. Who, no matter what he did in each repetition, always came to him and didn't let him go, even if he should've. 

This Jere who helped him put all his thoughts in a notebook one morning without hesitation. The Jere who believed him when no one else would. Jere who is smart, and handsome, and funny, and who lies and says he will not kiss him right before he does. And Jere who hides under a bright green bolero to pretend he's tough, loud, and careless. 

In seven days, Bojan has seen many versions of Jere.

It's good that he gets to keep all of them. 

(That's what he's hoping.)

This time, he doesn't mind if the future is as uncertain as his yesterday was. Perhaps he will lose his phone and never find the notes he wrote. Maybe, he will encounter Petar dancing with Luke Black on a tour, or with someone else. The possibilities are endless.

"Yes, it does." A smile spreads on his face.

"Then it’s real, Bojan."