Work Text:
There are different types of risk takers in this world.
There are the ones who defy the norms, wearing clothes that people think they shouldn't and acting a different way to the one people think they should. They're the ones who are often called “rebellious”, “weirdos” and “freaks”. They're the most tame type of risk taker.
Others go around their lives without a care in the world, talking back to their bosses (and getting fired multiple times a year), constantly moving and changing their lives without guarantee about if they'll be able to find a house or a job. They argue with every member of their friend group and family, ruining relationships forever.
There are also the ones who take the most “typical” risks, seemingly defying death. They climb mountains on their own, throw themselves off planes, go bungee jumping, and every “extreme” sport in existence.
However, there are people who take even bigger risks. Those who confront the universe's norms, those who do the thing they love most. It might seem weird, or even dumb, but it's not. Because, after all, people can only die doing what they love most. So why dedicate your life to it? Why spend every day of your life knowing that you could die? Why not change your profession?
That takes us to Connor Franta, the photographer, and Troye Sivan, the singer.
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“Alright, tilt your head to the left and put your arm behind your back,” Connor said, the camera clicking multiple times as he captured the moment in front of him.
He lowered the camera once he had enough pictures, looking at the man posing for him.
“We're done, babe, you can go warm up now if you want,” he told Troye, the man about to play a concert and his boyfriend of 2 years.
Troye smiled, blowing Connor a kiss before walking off the stage towards his dressing room. To say he was nervous would be an understatement. He knew his profession was risky, every day he did the one thing he loved most -singing- and that had killed millions of people before. Before scientists realised what was going on and alerted the public, basically telling them not to follow their dreams. Troye had been getting bad vibes for a few days, being constantly on edge about something bad happening to him.
Unsuccesfully trying to shake off his nerves, he started warming up for the show that was due to begin in just under 2 hours. At least he knew Connor was going to be there, photographing the concert and helping him ease his nerves.
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Troye had become more and more nervous as the time to go on stage approached, and he couldn't help fearing going up in front of the croud. His managers Emma and Dani had tried to calm him down but it was pointless, Troye's hands were shaking and he was sweating as if it was his first show all over again.
Bouncing on the balls of his feet he tried to release some energy, right before stepping out into the blinding lights of the stage. He went on to sing his first song, his dance moves more jerky than usual and a bad feeling fizzling in his gut, but he ignored it and went on with the show.
As he was singing the third song on the setlist, he looked down towards where all the photographers were, trying to find Connor and ease his nerves.
Troye's eyes found Connor's, but, instead of feeling instantly better -like he usually did when he looked at him-, Troye started feeling sick to his stomach, his eyes filling with tears for a reason unknown to him.
What was happening to him? Was he going to die? Was this what everyone experienced when they were close to death?
Troye kept singing with his eyes locked on Connor's, terrified that it would be the last time Connor would see him alive.
That's when everything changed.
Connor's eyes suddenly widened, his hands letting go of his camera and going to clutch at his chest. He doubled over and started coughing and heaving, before looking up at Troye's terrified face once more, still heaving. At that moment, his eyes rolled back and he fell to the floor, Troye's scream of agony echoing around the venue.
He jumped off the stage and towards Connor who was lying on the floor and hugged his boyfriend to his chest, not even noticing the confused and scared croud. He desperately tried to get him to wake up, but Connor was unresponsive.
“Connor, baby, please...” Troye cried, delivering kisses to his boyfriend's forhead. “don't leave me, please, I love you”
Suddenly he was surrounded by paramedics who grabbed Connor off his protective hold, disregarding Troye's scream. They started trying to revive him as Troye grabbed onto his unmoving hand, sobbing and mumbling incoherent pleas. After what seemed like hours, the paramedics stopped. With one look in their direction, Troye knew.
Nobody could contain his screaming and crying as he brought the man he was in love with back to his chest, refusing to believe that everything they had was over.
That Connor was dead.