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It began with Five wrestling a small newspaper out of a recycling bin.
He flattened out the paper with shaking hands and read the bold text at the top, proudly displaying what the text block underneath would entail.
“Uprising Star Viktor Balandin Set to Take Spotlight in Upcoming Show at The Calliope Theatre”
Balandin. Five remembered that name, his hazy memory recollecting a newspaper with Tatiana Balandin’s face on it. The face that belonged to Viktor’s mother.
Underneath the headline was a picture of Five’s brother beaming as he held a bouquet of flowers, a violin clutched in his other hand.
Five felt his lips quirk up as well. His brother’s smile was always infectious.
There was something different about this picture though. A stark contrast to the solemn, mellow little smile on the back of Extra Ordinary: My Life as Number Seven. Viktor was a lot happier now, brighter. His eyes shone under the spotlights and he was standing tall, proud. Much different from the academy days, when Viktor would shrink under their father’s scrutinizing eye and instead blend into the background.
After so long of being excluded from missions, group activities, interviews and the general eye of the public, Viktor finally pushed his way into center stage.
Five was happy for him. He really was.
Viktor was out, living his life. That’s all that Five wanted.
So he ignored the hurt festering within him, the betrayal he’d been feeling since that night in Viktor’s apartment when he first landed in 2019. Didn’t think about the immediate dismissal Viktor threw his way.
Five’s eyes skimmed over the article, pausing where it mentioned the time of the event. May 11th, at 7 PM.
Tomorrow night.
Five stuffed the newspaper into his pocket, and began to plan how he’d sneak into the Calliope Theatre.
__
On May 11th, at 8:17 PM, Five was sitting outside the ticket booth of what used to be the Icarus Theatre, straining his ears to hear the faint music from within.
He was going to have to second act it.
Thankfully, the orchestra played throughout the first act, and the solos and duets started in the second, so Five wouldn’t be missing much. He still impatiently tapped his foot against the pavement and drummed his fingers against his leg in frustration.
He waited for the theatre-goers to exit the doors, and then stood up to mill around with them, hearing them gush about how incredible the orchestra sounded.
Five felt severely underdressed in his raggedy sweater and baseball cap he’d liberated from a gas station a couple days ago. He could guess that he looked terribly out of place amongst the crisp blazers and elaborate dresses.
Somewhat self-consciously, he fruitlessly tried to brush at the dirt on his pants.
Against all odds, and maybe out of sheer luck, Five managed to slip past the ushers at the doors with the help of the crowd. He settled at a spot by a doorway on the mezzanine, sufficiently hidden by the shadows and dimness of the theatre.
It really was a stunning venue. He didn’t exactly have time to stop and stare during the first apocalypse, too busy running from the shooting, the yelling, the music.
The Icarus Theatre had been reduced to rubble in the apocalypse, but Five had still become horribly familiar with the area. After all, it was where he found his siblings.
Five was roused from his musings as his brother stepped on stage, brighter and more confident than he’d ever seen him before. He walked across the stage with grace, his violin clutched firmly in his grasp. Viktor commanded the attention of everyone in the audience, and against all odds, Five found himself smiling at how his brother looked so confident despite all the eyes on him.
Viktor lifted his bow in a gentle arc, placing the strings onto the violin nestled in his collar.
Five always knew he’d become extraordinary.
The opening notes jogged something in Five’s memory, a hidden exchange from his childhood that he was forced to leave behind in the ash and death of the apocalypse. A memory he had to leave behind in order to survive. A moment he’d forgotten about until now.
Five remembered lazy afternoons spent basking in the glow of Viktor’s room. Sometimes he was scribbling math equations on paper, or was making his way through a large book, or was tinkering around with some scrap metal, but what Five had forgotten was that some times he just sat and listened. Five thinks his training might’ve been particularly grueling one specific day, so he was content to just sit and watch his sibling fumble through the piece.
Sunlight streamed through his sibling’s room, coating the walls in warm oranges. Five always liked Viktor’s childhood room, despite the close quarters. It might’ve been the open window, or the bright walls, or the sound of a violin reverberating through the space.
Five knew the real reason was the comfort of his sibling’s presence. Viktor’s soft smile as he played a measure correctly, the way he’d hum the melody under his breath, the way Viktor never cared if Five took up the limited space in the room and crashed on his bed.
Music notes swept through the theatre, Viktor’s hand coaxing a nostalgic tone from his violin.
There was a sudden shift to a livelier, more joyful tone, and although Five was certain he’d heard Viktor play this piece before, it never sounded quite like this.
Despite Five’s need to stay hidden, he found himself leaning forwards, eyes tracing the lines of Viktor’s expression as he continued the piece. His brother was emanating a confident, focused sort of calmness. But he still had a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, just like in Five’s memories. Smiling like he knew Five was in the crowd, and was letting Five know that he also remembered those sun filled afternoons.
“ But lie to us again; Viktor, I’ll kill you myself,” Five had threatened once upon a time, 20 years and 4 months and 2 seconds ago. Five’s still not sure if he meant it or not.
Or maybe he wasn’t thinking of Five at all.
Maybe the smile was meant for another of their siblings, or for a lost love, or for a new start, or simply for himself. Viktor deserved that happiness, maybe deserved it the most out of all their siblings.
And Five was proud, goddammit. Years of being his brother’s sole audience and now he was playing to a practically sold out theatre.
There was a throbbing sort of sensation in Five’s chest, and despite the joyful melody of the piece, Five found his eyes begin to burn. He blinked furiously and tried to refocus on Viktor. Strange. He shouldn’t feel like that.
On stage, basking in the spotlight and in the eyes of everyone in the audience, Viktor’s fingers danced across the fretboard and gracefully traced his bow across the strings of his violin. The entire theatre seemed to be holding their breath, unwilling to make a noise that would interrupt the notes dancing through venue.
In the darkness of the audience, Five let his eyes burn and his chest tighten. He stood and watched his brother that he had known better than himself once upon a time, and a brother that he never really got to know again.
And once Viktor played the final note, and the audience erupted into applause, Five slipped out the door the way he came. If there was a wetness trailing down his face that hadn’t been there before, that was something only for Five to know.
—
A glimpse of messy, black hair.
Viktor’s not quite sure if he likes all the attention. His fourteen year old self would never believe that one day he’d face a room full of smiling people that all enjoyed his music. That all sat, watched, and paid to hear him play. Viktor always dreamed of it, but it always felt like an unachievable notion. Like when little girls say they want to become princess when they get older.
Bright, green flashing in the crowd.
It’s still a little overwhelming to have all the eyes on him. Viktor wondered, not for the first time, what would happen if he still had his powers in this situation. Would the walls be shaking behind him, would there be an impossible wind picking up speed throughout the room?
Sharp, dark eyebrows furrowed into a frown.
The adrenaline was still flowing through his veins, some of it manifesting through shaky hands and a racing heart.
Viktor smiled and waved to a little girl with curls, her chocolate hair tied into pigtails at the top of her head. She beamed up at him, happily parroting to Viktor that one day she’s going to be an incredible violinist, and that she will play on stages just like Viktor. Her excitement made Viktor’s chest warm, and his smile became more genuine. Viktor told the little girl that he knows she’ll be extraordinary.
Extraordinary.
Viktor looked back towards the crowd, searching for a scrawny teenager with a prissy attitude and a gentle smile that he reserved solely for the people he loved.
He scanned the room for a moment, searching the various faces for a set of familiar eyes.
The smile on Viktor’s face dimmed as he failed to find the boy.
He turned towards the next audience member that came to see him, trying not to focus on the painful clench around his heart and instead grasp onto the flicker of hope spreading throughout his body.
—
It was a bad idea to go to the meet and greet after the performance.
However, Five couldn’t resist the allure of getting to see his brother’s face. He was so far away in the theatre, and now that Five had gotten a little sip he realized just how parched he was. Just a little glimpse, he told himself, and then he’d leave. He’d gotten the information he was looking for.
But once he’d entered the room, he suddenly found himself wanting to talk to his brother. Words were forming on the top of Five’s tongue, the countless apologies he needed to give screaming to be voiced out loud.
But he couldn’t get his feet to move. And although the words were right on the top of his tongue, the noises tangled around his vocal cords, twisting through his throat and preventing any noises from escaping.
So, just like in Five’s childhood memories, he once again stayed still and watched his brother. Watched as Viktor’s fingers anxiously fluttered at his sides, and watched as his radiant smile lit up the room.
And then his eyes flickered to where Five was standing, curled into himself and standing right next to the wall as if it’d keep him hidden from wandering eyes.
A flash of recognition dawned on Viktor’s face, and Five panicked.
He wasn’t ready to talk to him again, wasn’t ready to face his failures and shortcomings.
And as always, Five ran.
He’s been doing that his whole life. It’s one of the few things he’s good at.
—
Viktor shut the door to his apartment later that night and carefully set his violin case down on the table.
He picked up the phone and began to dial a number, listening to the dial tone while simultaneously moving towards the kitchen. He rummaged through his small pantry, pulling out various ingredients and a butter knife.
The person on the other end of the call answered with a groggy, “hello?”
“Diego.” Viktor said. “I found him. Er- at least, I saw him.”
Viktor could almost picture Diego sitting up straighter, leaning forwards as he pressed the phone closer to his ear.
“Really?” He breathed before letting out an amused scoff. “Figures that you’d be the one to find the little shit first.”
Viktor smiled, his hands going through practiced movements as he opened a jar and stuck the butter knife into the peanut butter that it held. “Took long enough,” he agreed. “Family meeting tomorrow?”
“I’ll call Luther and Klaus.” Diego responded in lieu of an answer. “See you tomorrow, Viktor. Same time as always?”
“Same time. See you then, Diego. Tell Lila I say hi,” Viktor waited for Diego’s parting response before hanging up. He then pressed his two slices of bread together, forming a sandwich.
With the image of Five’s face in his mind, Viktor bit into his freshly made peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich. He promised himself that the next fluffernutter sandwich he’d make would be for Five. He always said that Viktor made them the best.