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The lights of the stage had been hot, too hot, and Apollo was glad to be back in the green room. Backstage was cooler, kinder, the lights kept dim. It meant it was blinding to walk onto stage under the eyes of everyone, the public and the people who were too often for Apollo’s like holding his fate in their hands, but when it was your time to return the darkness- it was perfect. He could feel the sweat sticking his shirt and waistcoat too closely to his back, like a second skin, and it was cooling uncomfortably. He probably smelt like shit, but he couldn’t change, not until the results were announced.
It was a terrifying thought. He’d be standing under the lights again soon at the mercy of everyone, trying not to look scared witless and likely failing miserably. He didn’t know how the judges did it, carrying a show like they did and looking no worse for wear. Apollo could barely stand his single performance, and too many times he had felt the words catch in his throat as quickly as they came. Confined to such a tight schedule, having to follow the timing of the music- if he missed so much as a single cue, that was it. Especially in the finale.
Apollo let out a long breath, and took several gulps of his bottle of water. It had turned lukewarm after his time on stage. He didn’t much care.
He toyed with his cuffs and glanced into the mirror. He looked tired. He was tired. His makeup was still impenetrable, so thick Apollo was surprised he could move his features at all. Blinking had never been so heavy. He wanted to rub it all away, but resisted. He would be free of it soon enough.
It had only been a matter of moments since he escaped the stage. He had run straight here, away from the busy stagehands frantic for a perfect show. He didn’t envy them for their jobs either, in the same way they didn’t envy him. They wordlessly let him slip away, barely giving him a second glance, and he wondered if the makeup crew would be angry at him for escaping.
Apollo didn’t particularly care. His nerves had fallen to a simmer. He had given the best performance he could, belted out his words and, hopefully, brought the house down around him. His phone had erupted with texts, no doubt from each of his eagerly watching friends or notifications from twitter. He hadn’t the bravery to look yet. He wasn’t exactly in the mood to see if the reception was poor or the platitudes false. He could only hope people wouldn’t be overtly cruel, and that he had made his coach proud after everything.
That made his lips purse. The very thought was enough to have him nervous all over again, his throat tight and his stomach tense. He wanted to make Klavier proud of him, if nothing else. He wondered if the man was going to visit- most likely not. He was a busy man after all, one of the brightest stars of the show, and the break was hardly long. Klavier would have to sprint down the twisting turns of the backstage in order to catch him, and he would have the makeup crew and probably the manager at his heels. There would be no time at all for a private conversation.
Although, such privacy would no longer be appropriate. The thought of him alone was a cloying sweetness. Thoughts of Klavier stuck to him, a constant presence, but only sometimes was it overwhelming. It was the rumours that gave it such potency, the ones Apollo had pretended not to read, with all those exciting buzzwords that had the public quaking. Secret love affair, Showbiz judge in love with contestant, contestant spills beans about secret showbiz meet ups.
None of it was true, of course. Not that Apollo didn’t quietly want it to be. And it didn’t even matter. The rumour mill would keep on spinning, and if they weren’t careful too many reputations would be crushed underneath. Apollo had lost count of how many reporters hounded him in his personal life, chasing him down the streets when all he had done was left his home for bread and toilet roll, and how many vaguely condescending looks his friends had given him. All sorts of people he hadn’t spoken to in years were suddenly hunting him down and contacting him, the new object of interest.
dude, are you smooching klavier gavin, one of the more direct messages asked, and Apollo had frowned deeply and left it an hour before tapping out a slow, arduous reply. The slowness would had driven the man wild.
Clay, he had sent, what do you think?
DID YOU TAKE SO LONG TO REPLY BECAUSE YOU WERE SMOOCHING HIM
no
well that’s disappointing
life is disappointing. deal with it, he text back, and he his phone clatter to his desk before grabbing it and amending, and that’s means no, I’m not smooching klavier gavin.
dude, the reply message simply said, and Apollo left it at that.
He’d ignored messages from most others, people he hadn’t seen since high school and the like, and he had ignored the reporters as best he could. It had been the best non-singing advice coach Gavin had given him, to just ‘tune them out and carry on dancing to your own music’. It had been hard to do at first, but then they had started shouting the same old things- passionate love affair being the mildest of them. Klavier seemed to ignore it well enough, and so Apollo followed in his footsteps.
The rumours didn’t matter. What did was the competition. It wasn’t exactly the end all, be all, but it was close. He had made it all this way, and if he didn’t win- well, it didn’t matter. Apollo wasn’t fighting it to the bitter end, not like Daryan. That wasn’t his style. He and Juniper, the other finalist with what Apollo thought was a pitch perfect voice were nowhere near as aggressive as him. Juniper and Daryan both smiled at him on stage, and only Juniper’s friendliness remained when the cameras were turned away. Apollo knew the one who had been talking to the papers about his and Klavier’s alleged ‘relationship’ was Daryan- he just had no way to prove it. Not yet.
Apollo cast his eyes to his phone as it chimed again, lighting up to reveal fourteen text messages. He looked away. He only had minutes until voting was closed, only a few minutes more until he was due back on stage to have the results read to him, the Voice declared.
He felt suddenly quite ill.
This was the moment they had been working towards for a long time, and now Apollo could do nothing but wait. There was nothing more he could do. It was like studying for a final exam for weeks and once you were sat at your desk you knew there wasn’t a single thing you could do but hope, and know you tried your best. Apollo hadn’t felt that way for a long time. It felt like he and anxiety were old friends, ones who secretly despised each other.
Apollo sighed, and drummed his fingers against the wood of his desk, only minutes to go, and then there was a knock at the door.
It wasn’t the hurried knock of an anxious stage hand. It was sure and slow, confident, and Apollo knew who it was in an instant. The uneasy feelings amplified. He jumped to his feet and cleared his throat, calling out, “Yeah?”
His voice broke halfway through and he cursed himself, clearing his throat. “Sorry. You can open,” He said, as the door was already halfway through opening.
A golden head peeked around the door, and as soon as cool grey eyes landed on Apollo they brightened. Klavier Gavin smiled widely. “Evening,” He said as casually as if they had chanced against each other on the street. He stepped inside without being formally invited, but it didn’t matter. Klavier knew Apollo always had time for him. “How are you feeling?”
It was a loaded question. He wasn’t sure if seeing Klavier’s face was going to make his anxieties worse or better. This was the face of the man he didn’t want to disappoint, the man who had worked his ass off to coach Apollo as best he could and to keep him calm before the big shows. It was his job, sure, but Klavier had made it very clear that he wanted to be his friend too. He brought them snacks and herbal tea sweetened with honey as not to worsen their voices every practise session, and always smiled so widely if Apollo did well or not. He was the one who comforted Apollo when he fucked it all up on stage so early on, his nerves making him a trembling wreck and being forced to repeat his set later in the show- he was the one who kept Apollo going and had gotten them this far. He would have waved all praise away, of course, arguing that Apollo was the talent. While that was true Apollo would never have come this far without Klavier’s guidance.
It turned out seeing Klavier’s reassuring smile was only going to make his panic worse.
“I, uh,” He dropped his gaze, looking at Klavier’s shined shoes, and he rubbed at the palm of his own hand. “I’m doing okay.” He cleared his throat firmly. “Did I- did I?” He couldn’t complete his sentence.
Klavier caught his meaning. “You did brilliantly,” He said, and Apollo warmed all over. He could tell Klavier was smiling- he could hear it. “All of the contestants did fantastically, as expected of those who have come this far, but Apollo, the crowd screamed loudest for you.”
It didn’t feel like a lie, and Apollo remembered all the noise on stage. He could barely hear himself think over all the noise, the whistles and the cheering and the announcer declaring his name. He remembered his first few shows, his audition, when he walked off stage and couldn’t hear a damn thing through the ringing. All the stagehands and later Klavier tried to speak to him but their mouths were moving uselessly, nothing emerging, like they were miles under the water and everything was muffled. He remembered the way Klavier laughed without sound and threw his arm around Apollo’s shoulder and guided him out somewhere quiet, where he could get fresh air and come down where no one would bother him. The ringing wasn’t so bad anymore, and he knew with time he would get used to it. Klavier himself would step off stage from his performance and chatter like barely anything had ever happened, and Apollo would stand there impressed. There wasn’t anything about Klavier that wasn’t impressive, or beautiful.
He felt his cheeks burning, and he knew he was flushed a light pink. He made a point of not glancing into the mirror. “I’m glad they liked me, I guess.”
“They loved you,” Klavier said, softly, and he stepped forward. He passed Apollo with their shoulders lightly brushing, and he leant over to peer into Apollo’s mirror. He had to be flawless for the show, even when he was just sitting there pretty- too pretty- for the cameras, and he grinned when he found not a hair out of place. Apollo knew he was one of the privileged few -along with Klavier’s other chosen contestants who had been slowly whittled down until only Apollo remained- to see the man without makeup and even sleepy during some of their longer sessions together. The man worked hard, and Apollo felt for him when the cameras were seemingly constantly stuck to his face during shows. “When the announcer called that the voting had begun, many people were calling your name. Many for Juniper, too. But I feel like I’m standing in the room of a winner right now.” Klavier flashed him a grin. “Of course, I’ll be a winner too. It’d be nice to beat Lamiroir for once.”
Apollo managed a small laugh amid the swirling nervousness. “Three years in a row, right?”
“Five,” He said, and Apollo whistled. “Ja. It’s beginning to injure my pride a little.” He shook his head, smiling very faintly. He crossed his arms against his chest and leant against the desk, watching Apollo carefully. “I’m sorry, I can’t stay for long. I have no doubt they’re hunting me down right now, and I’ll have to rush back to the desks soon. But I wanted to spend this last moment with you.”
He let out a long breath, and tried not to think too deeply about Klavier’s smile. “Once more unto the breach?”
Klavier’s eyebrows quirked. “With your voice? Not once more.”
“I’m glad you have that much faith in me.”
His reply was immediate. “We have faith in each other, ja?”
Apollo hummed, almost a noise of agreement. His words were sticking to the roof of his mouth again, like treacle, and his hands felt uncomfortably clammy. The places were Klavier brushed past him still tingled, and he felt doomed. He swallowed, and it felt like there was a stone the size of his fist lodged in his throat. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”
“Nein, thank you.” Klavier glanced at the clock on the wall for a split second. Apollo didn’t- it would spell out how long he had until fate snatched him up. Winning or losing- Apollo had no idea what he was going to do with his life, how all of this might affect him, and if Klavier would stay by his side. “It has been a pleasure to work with you, and even greater to be your friend.”
Friend, Apollo thought, and he had no time to be disappointed before Klavier was continuing. “I’m glad you chose me, you know,” He added, and his eyes were soft. “With your voice and my reputation, my style- I thought you were going to choose The Siren of The Ballad for sure.”
He wouldn’t lie- he had been tempted, and the thrill of having not only one judge want him on their team but two of the three had him thrumming with an excitable energy. He had respected Lamiroir for a long time, had sung along to her songs in his bedroom, but he knew Klavier would be the better choice, even if Apollo thought a good chunk of his songs were trash. He had heard Klavier’s more intimate things, softer songs he wrote and released between albums, and he loved them.
That was how he wanted to work, what he wanted to be known for- and when he saw Klavier’s delighted grin as he was chosen, he was already sure he had made the right decision.
“I thought you might need a sidekick,” He said instead. “The Siren has the Pixie already.”
Klavier laughed. “That’s true. I could use someone as small and talented as you. It would greatly help my image.”
They both knew it wouldn’t, not with the rumours swirling, but they both shared a laugh for the moment. Apollo was still pink from all the compliments, but there was nothing he could do but pray the colour would fade before he was due on stage. He wished he could relax in this tiny moment of peace, but Klavier’s laugh did interesting things to his heart, and the clock was ticking down too fast.
When Klavier’s shoulders stopped shaking with laughter, he checked the time again. His mouth twitched. “I should go,” He said, sounding a touch disappointed. He reached up and toyed with the edge of his fringe and Apollo wondered if it was a nervous habit. The man had seemed so good at hiding them, but perhaps here, in this moment, it was all too much. “You should follow in a minute. We will be due back on stage very soon.”
Apollo resisted the urge to rub at his bracelet. He let out a long breath and flexed his fingers, twisting his wrist. He felt the tiny bones crack. “Right,” He said, and he took the moment to glance at himself in the mirror. His cheeks had not returned to their usual colour, and he could feel his hands trembling. He almost reached up to run his hand through his hair, but he remembered just in time that the makeup teams would kill him. “Right, okay.”
Klavier was already stepping away. He seemed as collected as ever. “I will see you soon, Apollo.” He rest his hand on the doorknob, twisting, but not yet opening the door. “Remember that I’m proud of you,” Klavier said with his smile, and Apollo’s heart did strange things in his chest.
He pulled the door open before Apollo could reply, and disappeared in seconds. Klavier shut the door with a soft click, and the words of the song Apollo had auditioned with suddenly returned to him, bold and brave, ain’t no sunshine when he’s gone, it’s not warm when he’s away.
-
Apollo’s phone was ringing off the hook, and he was tempted to pick it up and throw it through the hotel window. Hopefully it would land into the pool with a splash and sink to the bottom, dying a slow death. It had not been silent for a second since the announcement and Apollo was getting sick of it.
He hadn’t answered a single call. He had glossed over the texts but had yet to reply, too lost in the moment even when the moment had long since passed, and words refused to fall from his tongue. He had barely been able to speak, let alone perform his winning song again.
Klavier had been right, in so many ways. The audience had been screaming for him. When Juniper had been announced third a good chunk of the crowd moaned with disappointment, and Apollo’s hearted ached at the same time it soared because maybe, just maybe- and then the crowd was calling for him. It was hard to see the audience’s faces against the light, the cameras spinning and locking on his and Daryan’s faces, and Apollo wondered how many people were calling for him at home. The thought was dizzying. He still had a headache.
He couldn’t even see Klavier or hear his voice, and he wasn’t sure whether he was grateful for it. He wouldn’t have been able to bear Klavier’s disappointment if he had lost, and he supposed that he could watch the judge’s reactions back later, to see the moment his name was called, the moment he was declared the winner.
His heart had been pushed into overdrive, and it still had yet to calm.
His phone stopped ringing again, and Apollo waited for a few long moments to hear the faint chime of a voicemail. Yet another. He had counted seven so far.
They could wait.
It was very quiet now, and all he could hear was the laughter and jeers from outside the hotel window, drunken men and women passing him by. The light in the bedroom was very dim- it was only moonlight streaming through the windows. It was pleasant compared to everything he had been through, and it only served to remained him through something big had changed the very basis of his life was the same. There were still moments of peace to be found.
He had his eyes closed and he sprawled himself across the bed. It was so soft he had sunk inside the mattress a little bit. Say what you want about Klavier Gavin’s spending habits- and Apollo had plenty to say about it- but he had good taste in hotels. Apollo had stretched back, letting his joints pop and bones crack, and he sighed. The ringing in his ears had finally faded. He finally felt cool, free from the heat of the stage. He had wiped all the makeup off in the bathroom and he felt fresher and clearer headed than he had in a long time. Maybe it was just the cold water on his skin, or maybe the knowledge that it was done- there was no more competition.
That thought was easily the most freeing of all, and the fact he now had a recording contract was almost nothing compared to it. It wasn’t that he was ungrateful. Apollo just recalled the moments of regret when he couldn’t believe he had let Clay talk him into signing up for one of the most popular singing competitions on television. He still didn’t believe it, not really, even when Klavier had pulled him into a crushing hug the moment they had met backstage, confetti still in his hair, dazed and shocked and more confused than he had been in years.
“Congratulations,” He had to shout over the sound of the crowd still roaring, and Apollo had only been able to stare at him. “You won. Schatzi, you won.”
Then he had been swept away, like he was a secret, and Klavier had said I’ll take you anywhere, anywhere you want- the finest restaurant, the most popular bar, to my studio- just say where.
And Apollo had asked, can I nap in the nearest hotel?
He wasn’t alone. The door handle twisted, and he heard it as loud as footsteps in the silence. It didn’t squeak- Apollo imagined nothing squeaked in a posh place like this- but it rattled, and Apollo lifted his head. Despite everything he knew immediately who it was. There was only one person wouldn’t have knocked.
Light streamed in from the hallway, harsh across the bedroom floor, and Apollo saw the silhouette of a tall and familiar man against the light. The door was shut with a soft click as the man stepped inside, and after a moment Apollo’s eyes adjusted to see Klavier, phone in hand, jacket slung over his arm. Klavier smiled as Apollo dropped his head back down and groaned a greeting.
“Sitting alone by yourself in the dark, are we?” He called across, tossing his phone over to bounce next to Apollo. He folded his jacket carefully and put it to one side, next to the tray containing the complimentary mints. That was how Apollo knew he was in a swanky hotel. “That’s one hell of a way to celebrate.”
At any other point Apollo might have come back with something witty. He knew that was one of the few things he was good for, but his head felt like it was full of static, meaningless white noise, and all he could do was moan. He considered throwing a pillow at him, and he knew in any other circumstance he would have, but it would have been one hell of a show of appreciation if he smacked his celebrity friend and boss in the face.
He heard Klavier laugh softly. It was a pleasant sound. Klavier’s laughter was always loud and booming for television, attention grabbing and charming, but now it felt sweeter- more genuine. Apollo may have been fooling himself to think that it was something just for him, but Apollo had always thought of himself as a bit of a fool.
“I’m turning the light on,” Klavier said in warning, and Apollo groaned lifelessly and threw his arm across his eyes in an attempt at protection. The switch clicked and when Apollo finally moved, the light was bright enough to make him squint. “You act like you’re hungover.”
The thought was ridiculous. Apollo wouldn’t have been able to hold down alcohol even if he wanted it. “You’ve been with me the whole time. You know I haven’t drunk anything but water.”
“It’s good- for your voice, your reputation. There will be no pictures of you in a club getting shitfaced in the papers tomorrow.” He looked pleased. Apollo tried not to think of headlines years old, advertising the mistakes of stars acting like idiots after their victories, a terrible beginning to a career that would only crumble to ash. Apollo knew how many contracts weren’t renewed and how the media had branded them ‘childish’- Apollo knew how many were teenagers, how many were children, and felt a pang of sympathy. “You know, I expected Juniper to remain level-headed and quiet after winning, but not you. I’d thought you’d be more eager to celebrate.”
“Another day maybe,” Apollo said. “I think all the drama took it out of me.”
“I don’t blame you.” Klavier remained standing, hands clasped together at his front. He didn’t look as professional anymore. The makeup remained but his hair was frazzled, nowhere near ruined but not perfect anymore. He was free of the PR teams for a few hours at least- until the next interview. He looked contemplative, and he paused before asking, “Would you like to be left alone to rest? We’ll have a long day tomorrow.”
Don’t go, he thought, and he said, “No, company would be great.”
Klavier lost his professional air almost immediately. His unclasped his hands and grinned, stepping and strolling forward, and sat on the bed, close to Apollo. He huffed as he settled, all the tension and the exhaustion seeping out of him. The bed sunk under his weight. “Anything for my- the winner.” He caught himself quickly, and steamed onwards. “I can’t believe you wanted to come to a hotel to celebrate. Of all places. You could have gone anywhere.”
Apollo rubbed over his face with one hand, reaching up to brush down his hair. “I just want some peace and quiet. I wasn’t going to get it in any of the bars around the studio.”
“I understand. You’ve been through a lot. Honestly thought, I’m surprised we managed to get out of the studio with so little incident.”
Apollo lifted his head and stared. “You call a team of reporters all eager and shouting questions ‘little’?”
Klavier smiled roguishly, like he was waiting for the penny to drop, and Apollo huffed and collapsed back onto the bed. He heard Klavier rumble with amusement. “Sorry. You’re in the big business now.”
“Take me back,” He said dryly, staring at the ceiling. It was the purest cream colour he had ever seen, without a single scratch of smudge. He remembered staying in hotel rooms with Clay and lying by his side, staring up at the ceiling and trying to form shapes with the imperfections. There was no such entertainment here. Apollo sighed, letting out the months and months of stress and performing out in a single breath. It felt almost like the weight had finally been lifted. Atlas, the more fitting name. “All that work. All that attention.”
“And it’s only going to get harder from here.”
“Thanks for the reassurance.”
“You’re welcome.” Klavier shifted where he sat, as if getting more comfortable, and tilted back himself. Apollo shifted his feet, letting Klavier’s head rest where they once lay. The two of them lay at awkward angles, gazing up at the ceiling. Apollo didn’t think it was quite the celebration Klavier had in mind. “Congratulations. It’s official. You’re now the Voice. The winner.”
Apollo didn’t think it was going to sink in for a few days yet. But he was almost sure with the amount of people probably tweeting at him right this second and the mounds of reporters trying to line up with interviews with him and Klavier, he would be all too aware of it come tomorrow. He winced thinking about all the blissful rest he wasn’t going to get, and he knew this was going to be the calm before the storm. He didn’t have any regrets, though. Not a single one. “You’re just happy you beat Lamiroir.”
He couldn’t see it, but he knew the responding grin was roguish. “Ja. I am.” Klavier reached up at bat very lightly at Apollo’s ankles, and he made a sound of protest and pulled his legs away. “It’s nice being a winner for once, but this is about you. The media will try to include me as much as they can but do remember- your victory was because of your talent. Remember that.”
After a moment, Klavier let out a long sigh, and shifted. Apollo saw him move to lay on his side, propping up his head with his elbow, and he stretched out his legs until he took up the entire bottom half of the bed. Klavier didn’t have a great view, being forced to stare at Apollo’s socked feet and folded up legs, so he moved to copy him, keeping a careful distance between them. Klavier only looked increasingly kissable the closer he was.
“Speaking of the media,” Klavier began, and he pulled a face. His carefully polished nails picked at a thread design on the bed’s sheets. “I… well, no, this isn’t about them. I actually wanted to talk to you.”
“About my contract,” Apollo said with confidence. Klavier had said that the evening was a time for celebration, and tomorrow would be the time for work- but a record contract was a complicated thing, and he knew Klavier was itching to get to work. He was too- he could work on his own things now, maybe some more covers but his own songs, and he wanted so badly for Klavier to see his first album being created, being sold, being bought, and for him to be proud.
“No. About those rumours.” Klavier lifted his gaze from the sheets beneath them, and maintained eye contact. “You know the ones.”
Apollo suddenly felt too uncomfortable for the room- too uncomfortable for his skin. He drew back a little, alarmed, and Klavier didn’t look away. They had never addressed what the media said so directly, with such serious looks- the moment Apollo approached him so hesitantly and asked, ‘should we do anything about what they’re saying? About us?’ There had been rumours of secret meetings backstage, passionate kisses and plans to steal away in the future and other things Apollo couldn’t even think about without his brain coming close to shutting down. Klavier had merely laughed, brushing his fringe out of his eyes. Even thinking about these ridiculous rumours gives them too much respect and weight, he had said, it is best to ignore them entirely.
Apollo had been unconvinced but agreed, and they both had lived their lives like nothing had been said even while the magazines screamed, even while someone was selling lies about them. And suddenly, Klavier wanted to talk.
It flared up panic inside him, and he wondered what had been said to make Klavier finally confront him. It had to be bad. The two of them didn’t exactly make it look good, running away together after Apollo’s victory to be alone in a hotel, but it was nothing. Klavier had made it clear that they were mentor and student, workmates and somehow friends, and Apollo had no hopes of ever ascending his role. Not that he would ever dreamed of- he was surprised enough that two judges wanted him for their teams, let alone the fact he won or would have even the slightest chance of being given Klavier’s heart.
There was so much the media could have said. They could drag up people or moments from his past and twist them to try and show him in a negative light, they could have interviewed the person who had been selling lies. It wasn’t at all possible that they would have found out about how Apollo himself felt- he hadn’t spoken of his own feelings to anyone, not even Clay. It wasn’t possible that anyone could have discovered the truth. Unless- unless he made it far too obvious in the way he smiled at Klavier when the cameras were on them. People always jumped to take glances and touches out of contact but what if-
He sat up very suddenly. “Has there been anything else said?” He could only imagine the things people were shrieking now, especially the ones who didn’t want him to win. “They’re talking, right? They’re saying the results are a fix because of what they thinking about,” He had to clear his throat before he could continue. “Us?”
Klavier’s smile was sullen. He didn’t bother sitting up, but waved Apollo back down. Apollo didn’t settle and Klavier continued after a pause. “Not yet. But they will. Tomorrow, no doubt.” He pulled a face. “I didn’t want to talk about the media. I wanted to talk about the rumours themselves- and their basis.”
“Right,” Apollo said, very hesitantly. His stomach felt like it was full of stones. Hot stones, that seared his insides and he thought he was going to be sick. Don’t embarrass yourself, he thought, don’t make a fool of yourself. Act casual.
Klavier patted his hand against the sheets pointedly and Apollo slowly settled again, leaning on his elbow. He flattened his hair and let out a small breath, hoping Klavier didn’t hear how it rattled like a dying man’s last breath. He couldn’t look his mentor in the eye.
He cleared his throat, uncomfortably loud in the suddenly silent room. The people outside had long moved on, and the night was now quiet. Apollo swallowed. His throat felt tight. “I may have,” Klavier began, and he stumbled over his own words. “I may- I - Gott.” Klavier reached up and ran his hand through his hair, pushing his fringe back, and he slowly began to unwind his iconic hairstyle. He looked almost as anxious as Apollo felt but the very idea was ridiculous. “I’m sorry. This is…difficult.”
Just tell me. “Just blurt it out?” Apollo’s voice emerged surprisingly strong. “Maybe it’ll help. It helps me when I’m nervous. How I didn’t end up yelling out lyrics and running off stage at least once is beyond me.”
He thought Klavier might laugh or even smile. He did neither. “Nein. It requires explanation.”
“Take your time, then,” Apollo said, and he was in agony as Klavier averted his eyes and gnawed on his lower lip in a way he knew Klavier was going to get hell for. He looked tense, and Apollo could almost feel it creeping over to him. He tried to resist the urge to up and bolt, and instead entertained himself with tracing the patterns in his bracelet with the edge of a nail.
It took Klavier long, awful moments to finally speak, but when he did, he cut right to the chase. “Apollo,” He said, and a name other than Herr Forehead or Herr Justice sounded odd falling from his tongue. “Some of the earlier rumours- that I was pursuing you. They weren’t entirely unfounded.”
It didn’t feel like a revelation. Not at first. Apollo looked at him with uncertain eyes and found the very same thing in Klavier’s own, and it took a while for the implication- the statement- to sink in. Apollo stammered and his entire body felt suddenly hot.
I was pursuing you, Klavier said, and Apollo felt useless. “But- but you never-”
The other man’s smile was brimming with mirth. He still couldn’t meet Apollo’s eyes. “Ja. I never. But I wanted to.” His mouth twisted like a sour taste was spreading across his tongue. “I made plans to. All sorts of them, to win your favour. But then I realised that if anything came of it, if the world caught wind of it, they would question your skill. They would think you were only accepted because…I was- I am- interested in you. The show would be declared a fix. I didn’t want to bring the shows honestly into question or even more importantly, let anyone including myself ruin your dream.” He huffed out a long sigh, his shoulders sinking in as if the centre of his chest was collapsing. He looked very tired. “But I wanted to tell you. It wouldn’t be right for me to hoard all these feelings while the rumours fly. Don’t you agree?”
Apollo felt like he had been grabbed by his ankles and hauled upside down, his world spinning very quickly out of control, and he had limited time to recover and speaking. He hadn’t been so confused in his life. “I- yeah, but,” He stumbled over himself, the way he did during his audition. The judges had looked at him with a mix of such sympathy and delight. “I…I don’t know what to say.”
Klavier’s face didn’t even flicker. He didn’t seem surprised. “I understand if you aren’t willing…”
“Gavin-“
He rambled on like Apollo hadn’t even spoken. He was sitting up, edging away. “This will have no effect on your contract or work. I can promise you that. ”
“No, I-“
“The media will talk, of course, and there will always be some who question-“ His brows were furrowing deeply, and he looked almost tormented.
“Klavier!” Apollo burst out, too loudly, and Klavier stopped dead. He was sitting on the corner of the bed, gripping on tight to the edge, and with his hair a mess and his lips pursed he looked far different to ever before. Apollo had seen him frustrated and had seen him mad, but he couldn’t place what this was. “Stop. Stay.”
It was almost as if he was talking to child or a frightened animal, but Klavier still had control over himself. His fingers flexed against the mattress but he didn’t move, and with a little more encouragement he was sliding back onto the bed. He made a point of drawing no closer. One hand went to one of his many silver rings and he began to spin it anxiously.
Apollo didn’t know where to start. He found his bearings slowly. “You wanted to ‘pursue’ me? What exactly does that mean?”
“I wanted to date you,” Klavier admitted, and he saw how Apollo jolted with surprise. “Just to see how things went, I promise. I had no other intentions. But obviously it’s not a good idea-“
He was trying to escape again, but Apollo sat up. “Wait,” He caught Klavier’s shoulder. “Sit down. Listen to me.”
Klavier squirmed, moving away from Apollo’s touch. He let go immediately, like it hurt, and spread both of his hands to show his palms as if in supplication. “Please,” He said. “I want to make sure I’m understanding this correctly.”
He watched as Klavier’s face scrunched up in annoyance. “Have I not made it already clear enough?”
“I just want a few more details,” Apollo insisted, and he lowered his hands slowly. He rest them on his thighs and tried not to fidget. “I just want to know. Didn’t you say you didn’t want to keep all of this locked up?”
There were footsteps down the hall, faint ones that simply passed them by. Nervous eyes glanced at the door but Klavier made no attempt to move towards it. His form looked smaller than before, shoulders less broad and head tucked down low. Apollo felt like the biggest man in the room for once.
“I shouldn’t have said anything.”
Apollo immediately shook his head. “I want to know.”
He looked unconvinced. His ring kept spinning, bright in the absence of light and against Klavier’s dark skin. “Do you really want to know that the moment I saw you I knew I wanted you?”
It was a thought that made his chest lighten and at the same time knock the air out of him. Apollo had never felt so conflicted before. He had gone months thinking this longing was his alone but Klavier sounded so bitter, so defeated, like he already knew Apollo’s response was going to be dismissive. He wondered if their experiences were similar. Apollo had looked at Klavier’s face and wanted to kiss him so many times, too many, but he had settled for being the reason for his smile instead. Who knew- perhaps Klavier had been thinking the same, teaching him how to command the attention of the audience and watching him perform and wishing that maybe Apollo would see him as something more than just a mentor.
It made him feel ridiculous, egotistical thinking that someone like Klavier Gavin would think that way about him, but the look on the man’s face, the things he said- they were impossible to deny.
Klavier had continued. “I heard your voice and I wanted you for my team, to finally achieve victory. I turned around and I wanted you as mine. Mine alone.” He rubbed at his face hard. He grumbled to himself, something rough and German. “I was going to pull out all the stops to seduce you. I’d sweep you away somewhere private, away from my other chosen ones and try to charm you, tell you how special you were. I didn’t let it affect my relationship with the others, of course not- but you were my favourite. I knew that you would be with me until the end of the show.” His smile didn’t feel sincere. “I was only thinking about victory and having you at first. Not about your wellbeing, your reputation- it was a good thing Fraulein Judge found out.” He huffed out a laugh, and when he squeezed his hand into a fist his knuckles popped. Both noises were equally harsh. “She let me have it. Ripped into me about how selfish I was. How I would only start rumours that ended up starting anyway. Told me I was thinking with,” he cleared his throat, and Apollo immediately understood. “places, and not with my brain. I told her I was thinking with my heart. She called me all sorts of unsavoury things.”
“Sounds like Skye,” Apollo weakly agreed.
“I thought she was just being her usual self at first. But I started thinking about it with time, and when I saw your face again…how earnest you were, how powerful your voice was, and I knew that if I cared about you at all I would respect you enough to leave you be. Until the end of the show, at least.” Klavier’s tongue wet his lower lip. He sniffed. “And here I am. Telling you. A thousand times more enchanted by you and making a complete fool of myself.”
Apollo’s face felt hotter than it had ever been. He felt adrift. Of all the things he had expected to happen this evening, none of it was predictable. He was sitting on a bed in a fancy hotel after winning a huge singing competition with Klavier Gavin next to him, admitting to him that he wanted him- that he was enchanted by him.
How exactly was he supposed to react to this?
He had been quiet for too long. Klavier finally looked up to meet his eyes, and his face was blank. “I just wanted you to know. Everything I said before stands. This will not affect your work or our friendship, at the least.”
It sounded all very final, and Apollo spoke without thinking. “I don’t want friendship,” He said urgently, before Klavier had a chance to get up and when it sank in Klavier had half a second to look hurt before Apollo was elaborating. “I mean- I do want friendship, I just- want- more?”
There was silence for a few beats, before Klavier cocked his head to one side. “Was?”
Apollo cleared his throat roughly. It was bad for his voice. He didn’t care. “What you want. I want it too.” He rubbed at the metal of his bracelet and tried to keep eye contact, no matter how much he wanted to look away. His words felt clumsy. “I’ve- I want you too, okay?”
For the first time Klavier looked truly at a loss for words. He gazed at Apollo with parted lips and incredulous eyes, and they stared in silence. It took a long time for Klavier’s slowly moving mouth to form words, and even his first didn’t make sense. For a long time one of the most famous musicians in America was left speechless and stuttering.
“You what?” He eventually managed, startled, and Apollo couldn’t help but laugh at it all. For months the both of them had struggled, and it all could have been resolved so easily. He covered his mouth and even snorted in a way that made him flush with embarrassment, and Klavier was even smiling, his face lighting up with hope.
“I want you too, gilipollas,” Apollo told him, and he dared to reach out, shuffling closer. “Every single performance-“
Klavier looked delighted. “Every single practise session-“
“Every single second backstage, I’ve wanted to kiss you,” Apollo finished. “And you’re telling me you feel the same?”
Klavier shifted back onto the bed, hands stretching out, eyes locked on him. They were suddenly sitting much closer than ever before. “Absolutely.”
Apollo let out a breath, and he was still laughing softly. “This is ridiculous,” He declared, and Klavier made a sound of agreement. Klavier bowed his head, eyelashes fluttering, and Apollo became very aware of the fact his lips were being stared at. His expression was almost reverent and his eyes were soft. “You’re an idiot.”
“I am,” Klavier agreed easily, and his hand was sweeping across the cool sheets to gingerly touch Apollo’s. It sent a strange chill up Apollo’s spine, something exciting but terrifying all at the same time, but Klavier’s hands were very warm. Apollo didn’t hesitate before turning his hand upside down and letting their palms brush together. Their hands were rough from years of strings, but neither one felt a thing aside from the sweetness of contact. “And so are you.”
“I am,” Apollo agreed, barely registering the fact he was leaning forward, tilting his head upwards. He hadn’t even fully registered the fact this was happening, Klavier was just as interested in him, but he was already leaning in to try and kiss him. Clay would have been proud.
Klavier’s smile was beautiful. It was almost bashful but overjoyed and his lips looked soft. Apollo remembered watching Klavier apply lip gloss and dying a little inside, wanting to taste it so badly, and if Klavier hadn’t licked or chewed it all off maybe he still would. Klavier’s fingers laced with his and he squeezed very softly.
The world outside them was nothing now. A bickering couple surged past their door in the hallway, loud and agitated and snapping at each other but they didn’t hear a single thing. They sat in the darkness and appreciated the moment they had been given, one of revelation and peace, and Apollo marvelled at all the surprises the world had brought to him.
Eventually Klavier let out a soft sigh and leant in, closer, and Apollo tilted his head up further to meet Klavier in a kiss. Their lips only brushed lightly and parted quickly, but one of Klavier’s hands reached up to cup Apollo’s cheek and he brought him forward again quickly, kissing him softly. Their eyes both closed and Apollo’s lips quirked up into a smile. He didn’t taste of his lip gloss anymore.
Their first kiss was careful. Neither wanted to push too far or move too fast. Apollo planted his hand against Klavier’s chest and held his hand over his heart, feeling his warmth through several lawyers of clothes. Neither of them had changed before leaving the studio, sticking to their suits, and Apollo’s skin was crawling. He wanted back into pyjama pants and a plain old shirt, his usual outfit of choice on a Saturday. But Klavier looked too good in his usual shirt and jacket, neatly pressed with not a thing out of place. Apollo felt like a sweaty mess but Klavier still drew him close and kissed him like he was someone precious.
They kissed until Apollo pat at Klavier’s chest lightly, and then drew away. Klavier made a disappointed noise and lent in closer yet, trying to catch Apollo’s lips before they disappeared, and Apollo laughed. It took a while for Klavier to break out of the dream, shaking his head and opening his eyes. He licked his drying lips and didn’t look a tiny bit embarrassed.
“Gilipollas,” Apollo murmured with affection, and leant in one last time to press a kiss against the broad line of his nose. He stroked his thumb across Klavier’s exposed collarbone and pulled away before Klavier could chase him. “We haven’t even had a date yet.”
That made Klavier laugh. “You give a man the opportunity to appear on television and give him a recording contract and pour your heart out to him and he wants a date before you kiss. What kind of a world is this now?” He pet at Apollo’s cheek before drawing away. “I guess this means the rumours are true now.”
“What, that we met up between shows and had a ‘passionate love affair’?”
“We could still do that next season,” Klavier said a touch hopefully, and he only laughed and caught Apollo’s fist before the man reached out and whacked his shoulder. He took hold of Apollo’s fist and lifted it to his mouth, kissing his knuckles. “In all seriousness, I’m grateful for you, you know.”
“Because I helped you win?”
“Mmm, well, that. But also that you and Fraulein Judge humbled me a little. And that somehow you wanted me too.” Klavier looked down at Apollo’s hand in his. “I’m grateful for this chance.”
“You gave me a chance the first time we met,” Apollo said, thinking back to his first audition. His knees had been shaking backstage and Clay had to give him a pep talk and rub his shoulders before he went up. They had been scolded for trying to yell their usual reassurances and Apollo had gone up half expecting to be laughed out of the hall. And now, his lips were tingling from when Klavier had kissed him. “I thought it was my turn.”
“Hopefully we will have the same degree of success, ja?”
Apollo smiled, squeezed Klavier’s hand and said, “Maybe.”