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Fan favourite. Ivan was the fan favourite on that occasion. Luka was third. Well, second, because Till had died.
While popularity polls meant nothing, something about that fact gently scratched his brain. Beating someone aliens were betting more on than you was a way to shut mouths. Facing a person who could perhaps give him some war took him out of his usual emotional box of indifference.
Would Ivan be a mouse of temporary entertainment, or a cat like him to play with on stage?
Luka observed how Ivan moved, sang, presented himself… Patterns similar to his own, but without becoming an imitator. Ivan had been raised similarly, no doubt.
Though different from his fascination with Hyuna, Ivan also aroused novel feelings in him. Where did his weaknesses lie? It seemed that the boy Ivan killed hours was not much of a relation to him, or was he? Luka saw it as a parallel to his round with Mizi, a poor, graceless encounter. Something simple. Would Ivan, then, be looking for the same thing he was? Luka didn't like to get excited or get his hopes up. So promising had been his rivals in the final over the years, and none had lived to see the day of tomorrow.
After a few sound checks, Luka advanced to his position on the stage. This time, in the dark, as the aliens had the idea of a different staging that would sell the audience. Ivan was camouflaged in the darkness of the environment. Luka could feel his gaze upon him, almost feel a sly smile curving across the other's face. Luka's remained immutably serious. Until the lights came on, he didn't have to pretend to be those the aliens expected of him.
Their foul, vicious sounds could be heard from the bleachers. The lights of Luka's colours predominated over Ivan, plus they were a perfect enough mix to respect the boldness of the creatures and prove once again who reigned supreme on the stage. The possibility of dying was not among his possibilities… For the moment. Ivan could always change his mind. Then, Luka would take it upon himself to emphasize his place.
So, the rhythm started on stage, accompanied by neon lights. Ivan took control of the song and rehearsed in the first notes without letting a single moment slip away. Controlled, calm and precise. A worthy rival in mere verses. It seemed to be a rare occasion cause for celebration. Two cats on stage. Yet, one had to end up being the hunted of the two.
Now, Luka was smiling professionally at the audience. Eyes on him for another day. Excited, expectant faces. Gracefully, he moved on stage like a heron in rehearsed steps.
His opponent was dressed in the colors of the third round, but with clothes that resembled the sixth. There were changes in the shirt, trimmed around the area of his abdomen to leave free that which Luka's clothes covered. Open jacket, black pants. It was as if the aliens were screaming at Luka that this was going to be his new worthy rival, or… Even his replacement.
The mere thought sent a different shiver through him. So many years at the top… No, they weren't going to replace him just like that. He had always been the aliens' favourite. Ivan was merely temporary, a possibility Luka had to put out of their minds.
The song went on with each one going their way. However, there was a moment when their gazes met. Nothing. No fear, no resentment, no sadness. Just… Luka's same desire to win. Full control. Ivan was a persuasive lighter to the candle of his attention. Luka was about to let it burn just to see what it would do. If his futile intentions consumed him, Luka would get him anywhere beyond the stage they were on.
As they turned on the instruments and Luka took the violin between his fingers, he couldn't help but notice Ivan's choice: That guitar he had seen before — Smashed, too. In the second round. So, had it been repaired for the occasion? Was it a memento? Ivan's face remained immutably suited for aliens like his as they played together.
As they continued, the black-haired man's voice did not tremble the slightest. Luka considered initiating the destabilizing phase. However, it was an honour to say that sparks flew when Ivan had the greed to give the audience a show. But Luka's tricks didn't work against him. Didn't Ivan not know it? Or did he perfectly well and just wanted an excuse to lay a hand on his waist? To initiate, perhaps, a battle on his turf?
Whatever it was, the aliens liked human relationships more than anything else. They were their source of entertainment for some. For others, their raison d'être. So, in the next few verses, Luka gracefully cupped his cheek and traced his thumb across his lower lip to his tooth. In a pose towards the audience leaning on Ivan's shoulder, the flashbulbs jumped to take a picture.
Taking advantage of the closeness and height difference, Ivan settled behind his back leisurely. Every touch on his skin corroded his veins. When Ivan trapped him against him, the flame ignited at last. Stanzas were sung with the usual professionalism, plus the aliens seemed to pay attention to the chemistry on stage. Luka threw his head back as he stroked his cheek with his middle finger downward. Words were sung close to Ivan's ear. These were intermingling with his own, as they had such repetitive lyrics. As he felt her fingers climb up his sides, Luka decided to have a look at the score. In passing, to challenge him to something very different.
Shit, they were too evenly matched.
Taking both of Ivan's hands, he pulled him to lure him into a dance of similarity to the fourth round, only seeking to demonstrate his skills rather than merely taunting his rival this time. Smart boy, he followed in his footsteps easily. They would have to take advantage of the moments of pause to demonstrate the best of their other skills, right? Even if it was only for a scant twenty seconds.
As they danced, they picked up their instruments again with absolute certainty. None of them had a trembling pulse. Nor were they unsteady.
With the choruses playing in the background, images of Till were projected behind Ivan, but his reddish eyes had his attention only on Luka. So he took advantage of a moment when they were close enough again to take his hand novelty. Luka risked using his leg as balance for a graceful fall without ever touching the ground. Ivan's arm held him just as he had anticipated, but now he wasn't exactly looking at him.
In the audience, there was a certain short-haired pink girl who looked most familiar. One who snatched a pair of excited eyes and a big, unprofessional smile from Ivan's face. Was that his weakness? No… From the way he sang, Ivan took on more strength than ever. Luka opened his eyes softly before narrowing them, moving Ivan's face towards his own, novelly.
Seeing the intention of releasing him in that sinister expression, Luka managed to break free from his grip and push him into the audience. However, Ivan snatched his arm. Eyes widening at his audacity, he could only slam them shut and fall with him.
“Aaaaah!” The aliens screamed as they stepped aside and made way for them.
Would that be the end of them — their long-awaited fate? They both managed to finish the song as they fell, and Luka's heart was pounding for the first time in a long time. His dreams, his long ambitions. They could all fall because this stupid rival had pulled him off the stage with him.
A shot rang out, and Luka fell onto something squishy.
Opening his eyes, he drew in a shaky breath and looked at the black-haired man beneath him with narrowed eyes. Nothing. No blood on him, nor was he dead. Had the shooter missed? From that angle, sitting on Ivan's lap, they couldn't try to hit him either. Unless… He was the loser. Pinning his yellow eyes on him, he watched as a grimace of pain accompanied his opponent.
“Ivan!” A girl's voice exclaimed next to them. Luka didn't have time to process it before the pink-haired one settled beside him to embrace Ivan. Luka immediately sat up with a wary grimace but ended up lying down next to Ivan to avoid being shot.
“Mizi.” Mizi? Like an owl, Luka looked at them again with narrowed eyes. Oh, so that was it… “You're alive.”
“That's what I should say, silly.” She mused in a slurred voice, surely because of how much she was suddenly crying. Then, Mizi alternated looking at them both. “How did you…? None…” Suddenly, the aliens stepped aside and made panicked noises. “Oh, that's got to be Hyuna.”
Hyuna?
Luka quickly looked up over the stage, wary of becoming a target for gunfire. No. He had to have been the unequivocal winner. At the sight of her, he was struck dumb for a few moments, his face serious and his eyes wide. It was her. Alive, and agile, her presence hadn't changed one iota, and, in turn, she seemed such a different person. Behind her… Something that chilled his blood even more.
Someone tugged at him again. Suddenly, his head was close to Ivan's chest again. He still couldn't process anything but the threatening words that came from his lips, “I was going to take revenge by my hand for what you did to Mizi.” Ivan mused in his ear, covering his mouth with his hand. “If they kill you now, it will be in vain.”
Luka would end up getting on that stage and get off the hook, perhaps, also taking Ivan's word and ending up with him instead.
Now, Luka had to process two things he had seen: One, Hyuna. And two, what, in big letters, the screen behind her unmistakably said:
IVAN WINS