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Rudo was assigned his first role in a new action show. An important role that could mean more open doors in the future. Life hasn’t been easy for him, however from the moment he met Regto it improved a lot. His biological father’s unconventional disciplinary methods left the young boy with lifelong scars, extending from the tip of his fingers up to the elbows. In comparison to that, his foster father was the light that saved him.
The one to suggest acting was Regto. He managed to convince him to apply for a role as an extra at first, in the same series as him. That way he would learn how to regulate his emotions, meet new people and possibly find others he could trust. He didn’t avoid humans, although he did struggle to interact with them, in fact. Whenever his scars came into view, it was the other party that acted up. Rudo had come to terms with this. After all, Regto taught him that those were reminders that he survived, he had nothing to be ashamed of.
When talking with his employers, he didn’t have a choice but to accept reality once again. The last thing he wanted was to become an inconvenience for the makeup team. What they didn’t expect was for Rudo to be chosen for the main character without any other complaints about his physical appearance.
He was working alongside new and former child actors, a few familiar faces and people he’d only heard of before. The Stilza siblings, a brother and sister duo that strived to find independent roles. Their grandmother was a doctor and had treated Rudo’s scars in the past. She was the one who offered connections in the film world. There was the Nijiku family, people in high demand who were rarely seen together on the same set. Since Zanka, the youngest, was part of the main cast this time, even their retired father accepted a supporting role.
Whatever prodigy the director could get for the play they would. The project was important for the whole production crew. Everybody was trying to promote it to the best of their ability, whether for the collective’s sake or as an individual.
Rudo somehow got along with most people. Tomme frequently brought homemade cookies to share, and whenever she carried an extra bag, he was the first to welcome her. Teasing Fu was a favorite pastime for Zanka and Jabber, who made it part of their daily routine. Enjin was giving unsolicited pick-up advice to the boys, while Gris assumed the role of the unofficial moderator of Enjin and everyone's big brother.
And then there was Follo—polite, kind and friendly to everyone who approached him. Zanka mentioned meeting Follo a year prior, during a festival play he attended with Enjin and his older siblings. “It was reaaaaaally cold. My hands were freezing!” They visited the northern region for the holidays, when a local dancing crew put on a street performance showcasing traditional dances. The lead dancer caught their attention, his movements both fluid and precise. The passion emanating was infectious. He knew they’d found a gem in the rough. Since then, Zanka was on a hunt for Follo fans.
“Look, he’s more active on SNS.” Zanka pulled out his phone, showing him an account with Follo’s profile picture.
“Whatcha got there Zanzan, hmmmm… Ohh y’er trying to corrupt another one. Did you learn nothin’ from the Fu incident?” When it came to sharing the joy of a new passion, Zanka knew no bounds. The sweet child, who tried his best to be nice, could not stand it anymore and a river of words and emotion poured out of him, patience wearing thin after a week of pestering.
“Enjin!! Don't sneak up on me like this. And Fu just can’t see the appeal!”
Rudo was recently given a smartphone and was still learning how to use it. While he wasn’t particularly fond of social media, he understood it was necessary for promotion and had other purposes.
Needless to say, he quickly became obsessed. What piqued Rudo’s interest was the consistent dance series, also concentrated in short videos, simple and well put together. Even he could tell it was the primary reason for the modest subscriber count.
~
“Heeeeey, do you guys know what’s up with shortie number 2 today? He’s seems really agitated. More than usual,” asked Jabber confused by the unfolding domestic spectacle.
“Zanka showed him a video of Follo. You know the viral dances he records on youtube? Rudo got hooked,” Gris explained it for him.
Enjin, taking a drag from his cigarette added, “Kid must’ve pulled an all-nighter, binge-watching. Look at those eye bags. BRUTAL!”
“At least it was his own choice.”
“Oh, hello there, Fu!”
“If it isn’t number 1 himself! Why the looooong face?”
“Leave me alone, Jabber. Remembering it makes me miserable. He’s too much of a fanboy!”
Not a single person attending the film set escaped the echoes of a certain boy's loud voice. “A SELFIE! NO WAIT!” He had no idea how to behave in the presence of someone he admired. “I see you every day, I don’t need that.”
“Wha…”
“Something else… what else?! Maybe something that’s more your thing.” Half talking to himself, Rudo stopped his pacing, abruptly turning around to look at Follo “DANCING! Dancing is like, your favourite, isn’t it?”
“Y-yea?”
“Hmmm. A collab maybe… ah, duuuh, that sounds waaay better, WE’RE DOING IT!!” Brilliant. Staying active was the perfect outlet for his excess energy too. He was eager to give it a shot.
“Okay??”
All bark no bite, for in the end, Follo bore the weight of doing all the work. He chose the music, crafted the coreography, managed the recording and editing. All the other party had to do was to show up and learn the dance.
They started meeting up at the boy’s home, courtesy of Regto lending them his big living room.
From then on, it took 0.5 seconds to find out more about him, straight from the source. The guy himself was pretty chatty. Luckily for Rudo, his caretaker was the type of person anyone would warm up to. He didn’t need to open his mouth, Regto covered every question he had.
Turns out Follo had a side job as a dance instructor. He picked up acting on Zanka’s insistence, but he wasn’t that active in the business. “Various skills can improve certain dances. Our dance club back home had random monthly activities too and they made us take acting classes a couple times a year,” he explained.
“You should think about furthering your education! Take the train and the National University of Theatre and Film is only 40 minutes away,” Regto urged with enthusiasm.
“Uh, I’m not sure if I can manage all at once. My parents can't support me financially, I can’t afford not having a job.”
“Comelivewithus.”
“EH??”
“Regto, you’re scaring him!”
~
As the day turned to dusk, Regto suggested Follo should pick up Rudo after work. They were currently doing the dance rehearsals at Follo’s place, thanks to his foster father being nosy. These two got along well... too well... SO WELL that they forgot Rudo was in the same room! Can’t have that happen again.
“Come on in, dear guest!” Follo’s voice was warm and inviting as he gestured to Rudo with a smile.
“Thanks for having me.”
Follo lived by himself in a rented studio apartment. His parents allowed him to move far away from home once he reached the legal age. The place was open-plan, a blend of comfort and modern style. Sunlight poured through large glass doors, casting a gentle glow across the light wood floor. The walls were painted in soothing tones of blue and light grey. On the left, a bathroom opens up followed by a compact kitchen with a wooden countertop and white cabinetry. In front of it stands a high bar table with two sleek stools. On the right, a cozy bed hidden in a room nook behind a built-in closet. In the living area, a single beanbag rests near a lamp on a round rug, perfectly situated in front of a bookcase.
Dancing rehearsals took place regularly, flowing seamlessly under the guidance of his exceptional teacher. “Not like that, Rudo. Let me show you. Look… See?” Ok, maybe that wasn’t quite right. With just the two of them Follo could focus on him, yes, more specifically on his mistakes. Every move under the sun that Follo would see he could replicate. Rudo, on the other hand, stumbled clumsily like a twig in fancy socks. Coordination, who? Don't know her.
“WHAT do you mean? I’m doing the exact thing you did!” His brow furrowed in disbelief.
“No… no, you’re not, actually.”
“But I see how you move. Ughhh.” Figuring out how to synchronize his limbs wasn’t easy. His instructor was in a battle of his own, frequently adjusting his hips, arms, legs, guiding him into the correct positions to help him get a better idea. Despite the initial awkwardness, Rudo was surprised by the warmth of his hands, how gently he was handled.
“Seeing is one thing, replicating it is another—ah, you forgot to put your leg forward for this part.”
“Follooo, I’m getting tiiired!!!” Rudo complained, rising his arms above his head dramatically.
“All right, all right!” he relented.
Rudo plopped down onto the bed grateful for the break he's been granted. Leaning against the bedframe, his gaze was glued on Follo’s figure as he moved toward the kitchen to fetch a glass of water. He found himself lost in thought, captivated by the way someone rather ordinary could exude such charm. His shoulders relaxed yet slightly drawn back. When he walked, it seemed as though his legs glided over the floor rather than making heavy thuds.
“Something wrong?” the boy’s piercing stare hadn’t gone unnoticed.
“Eh?! I-I was, um, th-thinking…” Rudo stammered, caught red handed. Before he could filter his thoughts, he blurted the first random thing that came to his mind in a heartbeat, “Whenyoudanceyoulooklikeapopidol.” The words had slipped out before he could fully grasp them. A wave of warmth spread through him. It felt like he had said something utterly ridiculous. It wasn’t a lie, yet offering compliments wasn’t usually this nerve-wracking. Typically, praising others came with a sense of ease not severe sweat.
It was a simple expression of appreciation and nothing else. Yeah! Dancing indeed was his forte—though he lacked self-awareness for that part—no need to fuss over it.
“Oooooh, you want to be buddies that badly?” Follo teased, his eyes sparkling mischievously despite the light blush that decorated his cheeks. Great. Now Rudo was uncertain about what he truly wanted. A few people ever engaged this much with him. He couldn’t even count his friends on one hand, he had basically none. The cast of the TV show were merely colleagues, and while they occasionally expressed concern and care for him, he didn’t feel like labeling those people as friends. Then what about Follo? He was currently grinning with that infuriatingly charming smile, his stupid handsome face waiting for an answer.
“What i-if… What if I said yes?” Rudo replied, his heart racing at the thought of getting closer to the person in front of him.
“ !!! ” It seemed that Follo too was taken by surprise. “I wouldn’t mind it.”
“Ha-wha…?”
That was it? Were they friends now? Rudo could hardly believe it. He made a friend in a couple of seconds. A friend, as in someone other than Regto that wanted to be in his presence. Almost too easy…
“C'mon, get up! You have to keep moving.” Follo took Rudo’s hands pulling him off the bed. “Let’s work on finding your rhythm.” The routine this time was particularly intense.
~
“Hey, Rudo, how about we practice this part together?”
A sleepy face emerged from beneath the duvet, “We’ll be wearing half-face masks. All anyone will see are our eyes,” he murmured, voice groggy from his power nap.
“And eyes are windows of the soul,” he replied, settling beside Rudo on the bed. “They can be expressive without using a single word.” He wrapped his arms around the younger boy in a burrito-style hug. “The characters are led to a polluted area, so there is no helping that. It’s this specific part that’s bugging me.” Nestled in a cocoon of comfort, Rudo caught a whiff of the lingering perfume of the nettle shampoo Follo had used. He inhaled deeply. The warmth radiating from another person’s body made him feel drowsy once again, the heaviness of sleep compelling him to surrender. With his eyes shut, he listened to the soothing sound of his friend’s voice reading from the script.
The young supporter wanted to be of use. He proposed an idea, to fool the information broker by impersonating each other. In other words, they had to exchange clothes, stay undercover and hope it will work.
Follo’s smell was intoxicating from such close proximity and he would soon be completely enveloped in it. The aroma of his clean skin mixed with a faint trace of sweat, passing to the stage outfit Rudo would have to dress up with. The fabric hanging on him like the blanket he’s wrapped in. His own flesh soaking in Follo’s unique scent with every movement.
…More precisely, for how long would he have to wear it?
The thought sent a jolt through him.
“Exchange?!” Rudo’s eyes shot wide open, fatigue instantly evaporated. On a second thought, perhaps practice before recording day would be a wise decision after all.
“Oh, you’ finally feeling like it?”
He sprang to his feet in a single move and started circling the beanbag, vigorously ruflling his hair. It was an action scene. Those tended to require a few takes. And they were totally going to make him wear Follo’s uniform, otherwise the impersonation wouldn’t look realistic… huh… wait…
“Wait. You’re taller than me. How are we supposed to feign height?!”
“That’s why we should practice! The clothes differ in size by one number. We can hide some features, but it will still be obvious. I’m thinking we need to decide how to approach our posture, to create an optical illusion.”
“Optical illusion!”
“Yes. Since it’s also a surprise for the viewers, the camera will beee in front of us, like, over there.” Follo stood up to demonstrate. “Maintaining a distance between ourselves will prevent them from making immediate comparisons. Use depth perception to our advantage, then body language to create an angle that will visually compress the height that’s closer of giving itself away.” With his right foot positioned in front of Rudo, he placed a hand on his upper back and gingerly pushed him forward. “The broker guy will target the supporter. You’ll have to do some running.” He gestured for Rudo to bend his knees and took a step back to evaluate. “Considering we’ll have to move fast this should contribute to the wow factor of the moment of reveal.”
~
In a whirlwind of joy, they faced each other, grinning widely with their eyes glowing brightly. As if caught in an unseen rhythm, they began to move to an imaginary beat that resonated within their hearts. Follo jumped playfully in place and the other followed suit. They broke into a quick side-step, arms raised high and feet tap-tap on the floor, mimicking a crab-like motion. With a twist and a turn, they spun around. In perfect sync, they leapt clapping their hands. The sound echoed loudly in the space of Regto’s living room.
“It worked!”
“Never doubt physics!”
“I won’t!!”
At times, the director would purposefully leave out certain cues to see what creative solutions the actors could come up with. They reveled in their achievement. Follo had been right; the end result was as expected.
“Do you youngggsters fancy a slice of cake–HEY! What’s that bruise on your elbow?! Did you get into fight? Rudo, how many times do I have to tell you–”
Rudo winced slightly. “There was a scene where I had to jump Kuro, but I slipped and fell. I... wasn’tatmybest.” He had managed to focus on the action until it came to bargain time with the information broker. Forgetting lines, stumbling, even biting his tongue—once the adrenaline settled, his mind became preoccupied with the other thing that troubled him. Surprisingly, he lasted longer than he could have anticipated. He definitely deserved a whole cake for that.
“It’s true,” Follo chimed in with a smile so radiant it could make the flowers in the house bloom. “I was right behind him and got dragged down too, crashing onto the hard floor. We really took a tumble.”
A mixture of concern and exasperation washed over Regto. “Rudo, you need to be more careful. You have to look out for yourself–”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. You were saying something about cake?!” Rudo interrupted, already making his way toward the kitchen.
“LISTEN to me when I’m talking!” Regto sighed, tailing after him. “Leave some for us too, you glutton. And we have dinner first!”
“Hehe, these two are so lively.”
“Follooo!”
“Follooo!”
“Right behind you!”
~
“Eeeh, why can’t I watch you guys?!”
“YOU’RE IN THE WAY!! GET. OUT.” Rudo shoved Regto through the door with all his strength.
“You won’t hear me make a sound.”
“LIES!”
“Hmph! Fine. I see how it is. You want Follo all to yourself so you can shamelessly flirt while I’m not around~” Regto teased.
“SHUT UP! I brought him here. We ate. I did my part; you do yours and leave us alone. Get back to the study room and finish that damn book review already, your client’s been waiting for it for a week!” Rudo kicked his ass out of the living room.
The not-so-secret convention between them, to bring Follo to their home at least once a week and Rudo was allowed one sleepover at his place in exchange. Regto, bless his soul, enjoyed having Follo around. He would boast about his work whenever he had the chance, he told stories of his childhood and would fill his head with advice nobody asked for, while Follo listened and absorbed the information like a sponge. Eventually, Rudo gave in to the man’s pleas, since he wouldn’t shut up about it morning, lunch and dinner.
“Did you have to be that rough?”
“He’s being annoying. We won’t get anywhere with him in the same room.”
“Suit yourself. The phone is in place. Shall we?”
“I’m ready!”
“The key for this short dance is the oriental music. There will be a lot of editing which I’ll manage later. We need to be farther away from the camera to create background space for that. Around here should be fine.” Follo grabbed his hand without hesitation. Rudo was stunned. At home, he never bothered wearing any protective material over his scars. Regto ensured everything was spotless, so he didn’t have to cover them.
Invaded personal space wasn’t a problem, what surprised Rudo was how the taller guy didn’t even wince at the contact. He showed no signs of disgust. There was a slight friction, a gentle tightening sensation that felt comforting. A subtle communication. Warmth radiating from soft skin, in comparison to his rugged tissue–
“The choreography doesn’t involve much leg movement. We’re recreating the making of a dish, kind of. Watch me.” Not a minute to spare, huh.
“First, introduce the dish you’re preparing.
Show the main ingredients like this 1, 2, 3, 4, then chop chop chop.
Bring them in the pan, add condiments with style and stir stir stir.
Pour it out for the final presentation and pose.”
“Wasn’t this a solo dance?”
“Yes. We’re spicing it up! At least for the chop and stir parts we will move in sync.”
“Nnnooooooooooo. Synchronization is haaard.”
Follo flashed him a smile. “Syncing is literally all we’ve been working on. Stop whining and try dancing.”
“Why do you always think I can instantly remember moves I see for the first time…”
“Come on. Next month’s filming is gonna be busy. We might have to put dancing on a pause.”
~
A single character on the set, moving through the hallway. His expression heavy with disappointment as his thoughtful gesture was dismissed. He takes slower, hesitant steps, his shoulders hunched. Silence lingers momentarily.
A gesture of anger. Neatly folded clothes lay scattered on the floor, a stark contrast to the turmoil within him.
The young teenager was holding his breath unable to tear his gaze away. His heart rate sped up, each beat echoing Follo’s furious scream, now forever etched in his memory. It’s been decided that for the next story arc, Follo would take center stage.
“That reaction was super cool! You made it look so vivid I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. I kept replaying it in my mind for a while.” A candid conversation, an unexpected honest compliment.
“Well, it's, you know. The character fits me like a glove.” A response he failed to predict.
On the surface Follo appeared polite. He carried himself with the kind of warm demeanor that drew people in, making him seem approachable and easy to get along with. Beneath this, lay a more complex person. One who tiptoed around others, hesitant to assert himself or voice his true feelings. He frequently opted to maintain the peace and sacrifice his own desires in the process. He wanted to be useful, to feel valuable. No matter the task, Follo was serious about doing it right.
While his dedication was commendable, too much of anything had its negative consequences, as Regto would say.
“Be proud of yourself, dammit!”
It wasn’t enough that his efforts took a toll on him. Ever since he started acting, Follo received a lot of negative feedback online. Rudo dug enough through comments under his posts to understand the lengths of how petty people could be. Some of those little shits pissed him off in particular. He couldn’t ignore them like Zanka did, he couldn’t joke about it like August did, and he wasn’t allowed to fight them.
One way or another, he had to learn to control his emotions. Those classmates in primary school that made fun of his scars? He beat the shit of them. Those bullies lurking by the street corner? They ended up with more injuries than he did. The old man that looked funny at him while he was wiping dirt from his arms? His shop window was shattered. At the center of it all stood Regto with his head bowed low, the sight of him almost unbearable, apologizing on behalf of Rudo. If he couldn’t control the violent tendencies, he had to pretend he wasn’t bothered and refrain from acting impulsively.
It was one thing when it was about himself. When it involved a person he cared about, he was at a loss. He wanted to throw a fit, to unleash his fury and lash out at every single turdhead who dared to threaten his friend(?).
“It may not be a big deal for you, but I liked it…” To see his friend feel disheartened stung more than Rudo expected. The Follo he admired faced challenges head-on, transforming critiques into fuel for his ambitions. He would tackle problems with unwavering resolve, pouring his energy into everything he pursued.
There was one thing that could ease Rudo’s worries at times like these. He pulled out his phone and began to play a video of a certain somebody.
“Rudooo, I didn’t mean to upset you… Hey, ‘you listening? What are you watching–HOW DID YOU GET THAT?!”
“I asked the editors nicely and it was given to me, how else.”
“It hasn’t even aired yet!”
“They made an exception.”
“How many times have you seen it??”
“Well, I’ve got it since Tuesday and watched it a couple times per day. Don’t worry tho, it’s not the only shot of you I have saved.”
Follo’s eyes widened. He really was an insatiable beast.
“Delete them and I’ll treat you to ice cream?”
“…” Rudo paused, considering the tempting offer for a moment. “NEVER.” His resolve quickly strengthened, the details were not well stated afterall.
~
Five actors on the set. For the main character’s first mission, he is aided by a supervisor and three supporters. They take a closer look into an evacuated town perched on the edge of a cliff. A mysterious case. The youngest supporter reveals a new type of trash beast. Tumultuous emotions erupt. The atmosphere is tense.
Their not-so-secret dance lessons made Rudo forget he was supposed to dodge. Follo made a swift move, his fist connecting with Rudo’s side. He took a hard blow, equipment flying off his face.
Excitement so high, no one could pause and acknowledge what just happened, even the director was in full swing, “We’re rolling, we’re rolling!”
To think that someone so polite and merry would pack this much force. Indirectly getting to know uncharacteristic parts of Follo filled him with excitement, yet he couldn’t let it show. Stay focused, Rudo, you’re still in character. He had to maintain an angry expression until the scene cut. He wasn’t planning of letting the moment go to waste. The electric emotions of the sequence carried on, captured by the cameras and the bruise forming on his cheek, slowly and steadily.
“Aaaaaaaaand, CUT!! We’re keeping this one, folks!”
“RUDO! DID I GET YOU?!” Follo shouted. His eyes were comically wide.
“Heh, you’ve got the grace of a gazelle and the force of an ox.” Landing with an audible thud on the ground, he glanced around at his worried colleagues. Gris, in particular, looked like he was about to give Follo a piece of his mind.
The raven boy’s features shifted to one of panic. “A-a-are you okay? Does it hurt?” He stepped closer, crouching down to Rudo's level. “Do you need to lie down?”
Rudo’s mask slipped, a grin breaking through his feigned anger. “Afraid you ruined my face much?”
“Oh no, I didn’t mean to hit you this hard… or hit you at all…”
“Come on, you’re not going to let a little contact scare you off, are you–”
“Oh man, oh man, oh man, you’re already swelling!”
“FOLLO, I’M FINE!!” Rudo exclaimed, rolling his eyes in exasperation. This was not something he couldn’t handle.
“Alright, you two, go get ready! Rudo, put an ice pack on that! Prepare for more tension in the next sequence.”
Realisation and guilt. The supporter makes a choice for the sake of a successful mission. To fix his mistake, he becomes a diversion. The beast attacks and he falls down the cliff. The MC frantically jumps after him without hesitation.
While receiving more bloody makeup, Follo showered him with apologizies, blaming himself for being a rookie actor who couldn't control his own emotions and lost track of his surroundings.
“CALM! DOWN! I forgot what I had to do too, kinda? You could say it turned into a well-improvised scene.” He couldn’t deny how much Follo’s performance captivated him, although the corner of his mouth was growing darker, rivaling the color of his scars. His tongue felt numb and every movement sent waves of pain similar to needle pricks. He was gonna have to cover that spot with foundation for a while.
“Follo, what was that?!”
“Now, now, Gris. We all know Follo didn’t mean for that to happen.” Tomme sensed the storm that was brewing in Gris's eyes. “Let’s take it easy and-”
“We had clear instructions. We were prepared!” Gris continued, let down by Follo’s mistake.
“I knowww, I’m so so sorry.” Follo’s face flushed with embarrassment.
“It’s fine, I’m not mad–”
“This is not about you, Rudo. Follo needs to learn the difference between fiction and reality. You can’t immerse yourself in your character to the point of causing actual harm,” Gris fired back, frustration boiling over. “And maybe it’s about you too! Don’t think you are a saint for forgiving him. I heard you loud and clear earlier. Did you even ponder what you just said before letting it out of your mouth? You can’t just hurt people on set and call it an improv. That crosses a line we can’t afford to overlook.”
Gris’s words landed with impact. They fell silent.
Follo's eyes were filled with regret, desperate to maintain his composure. That wasn’t part of the script, he blew it and acted unprofessional, and why Rudo didn’t mind it was beyond him. He would much rather have preferred a good scolding from him too.
The director, with a keen eye for drama, adapted to the flow of events to enhance the moment. Filming was going to continue with minor adjustments. The next part focused mainly on two characters. Rudo braced himself for the challenge ahead.
He lies there, not having fallen too far. The MC's face obscured by a shadow, concealing his expression from the audience's view. He hasn’t given up. The boy wanted to try and reason with his fellow colleague one more time.
The makeup team excelled in their work. A pool of thick fake blood surrounded Follo’s body, enough to send shivers down your spine if it was real. Nearby, the cameraman moved with precision, adjusting angles to capture the scene perfectly. Instructions echoed from just out of sight. “Feel the fear, don’t forget you’re still angry,” a voice urged him to sharpen his focus.
The retakes piled up. Rudo had not been aware of the emotion he was wearing on his face.
Filming started early and finished late. Additional character lines were to be recorded next week. They didn't say a word to each other for the whole trip to Follo’s place. Luckily for Rudo, the arrival of the weekend meant he would easily be granted permission to spend the night. Regto taking his bruise the wrong way was the last thing he needed. He was tired.
A worried expression clouded Follo’s face whenever he looked at the boy. Though, upsetting him was not on his to do list, knowing that someone cared enough to be this concerned gave way for warmth to bloom in his chest.
What is really that bad?
“Let me see.” Their gazes locked and he couldn’t look away. Who was he to say no to those bright eyes. It felt as if time had stopped for a second. A bag of frozen veggie mix served to cool the bruised area. Rudo flinched at the cold temperature but leaned in, acutely aware of his slightly swollen cheek.
The silence broke when Follo went and brought a tube of ointment. “We’ll apply this. It works well.” A small gasp escaped him. The hand that gently rubbed the area smelled minty. “Heh, you like randomly sniffing things, don't you.”
In contrast to the simpler days of holding hands with Regto on a walk as a child, this was different, electric. Follo’s touch ignited unexpected sparks. Rudo found himself drawn to the person before him. He wished nobody else knew of this sensation so he could claim it as his own cherished secret.
He stared once again, his heart rhythm inexplicably uneven. Strange. Did others see him the way he did? He wondered if Zanka ever felt the urge to cross boundaries for him. Follo looked straight into Rudo's eyes and placed his other hand on a slender shoulder, “Sit wherever you want. I'll grab you a change of clothes, then we’ll have something to eat.”
~
A long-awaited awakening takes place. The trash beast is defeated. All that effort takes a toll on the injured boy. Panic arises through the mission's members. The scenery then changes to the Cleaners’ infirmary. The injured one is not in mortal danger and receives medical attention. He decides to keep the scars as a reminder of that day. “Let’s be friends!” he exclaims. The two of them reconcile.
Even if a few days had gone by, the ghost of a worry clung to him stubbornly. The image of Follo lying covered in blood flashed through the boy's mind ever since the previous scene. The smell of whatever that fake blood was made out of never left his nostrils.
Yet he had to remind himself that Follo was alright. No real injury. Those were just special effects.
He’s seen blood before, thanks to that man, the one disqualified from parental rights. He had the guts to show his face at Regto’s door, seeking to incite conflict as usual. Bastard was hell-bent on perpetuating Rudo's suffering. He wouldn’t be satisfied until he stirred chaos in their life, leaving marks that would take a lifetime to heal. Rudo grasped the fear of losing someone dear to him back then.
This time it wasn’t his foster father, it was Follo. Yet the blood was fake. He was okay. He was safe.
His emotions threatened to spill. Rudo closed his eyes as if to dispel the sight and took a deep breath. Forget about it already.
Friends… He had a solid idea of how to play out this part. Had he been in a similar situation in the past, he might have struggled with the concept and possibly react inappropriately. Real life experience turned out to come in handy.
He recalled the astonishment on Follo’s face from the day he admitted his desire to become friends, and tried to replicate it.
Was that how it went?
Follo often appeared perfectly content on his own. He rarely opened up about his feelings or personal struggles, leaving Rudo under the impression that even Zanka might understand him better.
Alone and away from home. The boy couldn’t help but feel a pang of concern. He wished Follo would talk to him and rely on him as well.
~
After wrapping up the last cut of the day, a sense of relief washed over him, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
This moment marked Follo's most significant role in the series. Following it, a bittersweet reality; he will be absent from the storyline. Rudo couldn't help and feel a twinge of sadness at the thought. And it was not just about the characters. Their schedules barely aligned. They could not hold practice sessions anymore if there were no more scenes to share. Maybe they would still be able to keep on doing dance videos.
A heavy sigh slipped from his lips.
“What’s up with the sour face?” Follo points out.
Rudo chuckled weakly, “It’s hard to imagine doing this without you for a while.”
“I get it. I’ll miss our practice sessions and dance routines too.”
Say what?
“Huh?”
“I’m going to the north.”
SAY WHAT?!
Alarms went off in his head. “You… you’re going away?!” Rudo’s voice trembled slightly. His heart sank hearing his own words. He felt a knot tightening in his stomach. Why? Where? When was he leaving? For how long? Will they see each other again? Does he want to keep in touch? Does he–
“What are you so shocked for??” Follo replied, offering a smile that didn't quite diminish the concern in Rudo's eyes. “I’m only taking a couple of weeks off to visit my family. It’s been a while since I’ve seen them. It’s a planned vacation. I’ll be back.”
“You’ll come back,” he repeated. It was a reassurance and an affirmation.
“Of course.” He ruffled Rudo’s hair with both his hands. “I have a job here that I would very much like to keep for a while longer, and I am still part of this show.”
“R-right!!”
“And there is another thing…”
~
Rudo moved restlessly around his dimly lit room.
“Rudooo…” His back-and-forth pacing was suddenly interrupted as the door creaked open to reveal his father's head peeking in.
“…Regto.”
“It’s written all over your face.” He must have sensed the tension in the air.
“What is?”
“You know what I’m talking about.” Amazing. Rudo's agitation made it through the walls and the tease enjoyer caught wind of it.
“No, I don’t.”
“You have been acting like a hedgehog for the past few days.”
“Nope.”
“And tonight, you barely touched your food.”
“No idea.”
“…You miss him!” Try as he might, his father could not be fooled.
“He has an exam to prepare for, Regto! Before he left, he said he really wants to try and get into that university you told him about. He needs to concentrate. I know he’s back in town. It ain’t like I can knock on his door every day. What would be the point?! I’d end up distracting him.”
Despite the defensive reaction, no doubt Rudo felt just as frustrated, anxiety gnawing at him like a hungry wolf. Around Follo he never felt like a nuisance, he had absolutely no problem bothering him. However, that shifted in his absence. Making the first move seemed like a challenge. Reaching out felt like gearing up for a hike and hesitating at the base of the mountain.
“I understand that. I miss him too, honestly.”
“…”
“How about you invite him for dinner more often. Here. It has to be lonely eating all by himself at that sad excuse of a table he owns. I’m pretty sure he can’t handle cooking healthy meals.” He gestured dramatically. „Pluuus, you could study together. Each to their own materials, at the same desk, under the same roof. You get me?”
Regto knew what to say in order to give his son a push.
The boy glanced toward his phone on the nightstand. „Guess it wouldn't hurt to check in...”
“OHHO?!” His eyes lit up with enthusiasm. “THEN!! I’LL LEAVE YOU TO IT! I’ll be in the study room if you need me.” Who exactly wanted to see Follo?
With a deep breath, he picked up the phone, the soft glow of the screen illuminating his face. His fingers hovered over the keyboard until he decided what to write. <<Hey. We barely heard from you these weeks. You doing alright?>> And send.
While staring at the message he'd typed, the seconds stretched endlessly. The anxiety of waiting for a reply had his stomach on a grip. The clock indicated well past 11 PM, he should be asleep by now. Just as Rudo decided to settle into the quiet of the night, his phone rang. His heart did a flip seeing the caller ID; it was the crush in question.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Oh h-hey, I didn’t expect you to call back. You up at this hour?”
“Mmyeaahhh,” he yawned, “I didn’t notice it’s gotten late, I forgot to set a timer.”
The relief of hearing his voice again was quickly replaced by concern. “You sound tired.”
“Because I am.” Maybe he should have contacted him in the morning.
“Diiid you have dinner?”
“Aaah, forgot about that too.”
“…”
“…”
“Follooo…”
“Don’t tell Regto!”
“He’s NOT gonna like it.”
“He’s worse than my parents. At least they pretend to buy my bullshit. Pleeeeeeeeease!”
“Ten minutes ago he suggested I ask you to eat with us.”
“Please, please, please! Pretty please, with a cherry on top??”
“Fine, but you better show your face around here soon!”
“Certainly!!”
The tension that had coiled in his belly begins to unfurl slowly. Follo was fine. Perhaps not properly taking care of himself, but fine.
“I kinda wish I had a picture of you.”
“Woah. Random. What's gotten into you? Hehe, regretting not taking that selfie?” Remembering the day Rudo first approached him, he laughed softly. Rudo had been so nervous and excited he could barely contain himself. “Hmmm, it’s never too late~” Follo teased.
“No… uh, maybe?? I don’t know. It’s… I… ughhh…” Rudo struggled to articulate.
“Rudo?”
He had to let it out of his system.
“I just… I miss you. I-I wish you lived with us. Then I would see you every day, I would hear your voice every day. We could study, do fun things together or nothing at all, it doesn’t matter. We could have more sleepovers, and-and you wouldn’t have to pay rent or… or eat alone.” Each word poured out of his mouth. He wasn't used to sharing his thoughts so openly.
Follo listened patiently before speaking up, “Rudo as my permanent roommate? I guess it would be fun.”
“Really? You wouldn't mind spending that much time with me?”
“Iiis Regto included in the package?”
“Be serious.”
Follo paused, the playful tone in his voice faded. “Ok, it’s almost midnight and I have to make sure I’m not misunderstanding or dreaming with my eyes open. Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
Dodging the truth was out of the question. Inevitably, he had to confront his own feelings. “I am afraid that next time we meet face to face, I will wish time would stop so I could be by your side for a while longer.” Undeniably, Follo had become a presence he yearned for.
“Oooh… that… actually sounds nice.”