Chapter Text
The room was way too bright for anyone to focus on getting ready without developing a headache, though they had long been accustomed to doing their makeup in similar conditions.
Ivan had mostly just been wasting time, dabbing the brush on his face absentmindedly. He had his eyes on far more important matters.
“…What are you doing-?”
“None of your business,” the gray-haired man answered almost instantly, like he was already expecting him to start asking stupid questions.
Unfortunately for him, he was speaking to the master of sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong. He didn’t even have to turn, Till was visible through the mirror in all his glory.
He wasn’t even doing anything secret anyway. Just spray painting his black top, being Till. His guardian would see this as a complete waste, but not Ivan. He adored anything Till did.
Though being Ivan, he had to tease him about it.
“Ruining a perfectly good shirt I see.”
“It’s artistic liberty!” he bit back. “Not that you would know anything about it.”
“Oh?” Ivan said, clearly enjoying himself. “Is that so?”
Just then, a knock on the door interrupted them.
Small, cotton pink aliens stepped in, about the size of a human toddler.
They were familiar with them, their only purpose being to make sure the participating pets looked their utmost best, since most segyeins’ appendages were too large for any small details that might need touching up.
These ones in particular were here only for Ivan. Going anywhere near Till had dire consequences, and they had learned that one fairly quickly.
Ivan looked at them, then at Till. Somehow, he didn’t feel like his usual style was appropriate for today’s performance.
“That’s alright,” he said, smiling politely. “I won’t be needing assistance today.”
The pink things blinked in bewilderment.
Ivan turned back to the mirror as he shooed them away with his hand. “Yes, I’m sure. You can leave.”
Even though they didn’t understand, it wasn’t like these things had any authority to argue. So they scurried back out the door.
Till could only stare. “That’s new. What’s gotten into you?”
He didn’t have to wait too long to find out as Ivan took some scissors to do some customization of his own, ripping the sleeves of his jacket.
The younger man had that usual scowl on his face, the one that screamed disgust and confusion.
“…Okay you’re crazy.”
Ivan lifted his gaze. “Look who’s against artistic liberty now.”
“You-!” Till gritted his teeth. “Do what you want! I don’t care!”
But even as he said that he still seemed awfully interested in Ivan’s art project. So much so that his own progress was slowed down. Which just meant that Ivan got to bask in Till’s attention the whole time.
They checked each other out one last time.
Till had a completely black outfit, except for the one pop of color he added himself. A cropped jacket on top of a tank top and fitted pants. He had painted some symbols on his top with white, Ivan wasn’t exactly sure what it meant but it seemed very Till.
He also adorned himself with some jewelry, the brightest green he could find just to be petty.
…And the shock collar. It wasn’t exactly a fashion statement, not like Till had any say on that part.
Ivan’s was white for the contrast. A suit with long flowy sleeves. A few slits here and there to tease the audience with peeks of skin. The ultimate winning strategy, he would say. Though his guardian was going to hate this.
His hair was messier than how he usually wore it. The choice of style he made might be detrimental to his established image, but he didn’t mind that.
All the better to lower his chances.
Preparations for the first round were at full swing. All the participants were buzzing with excitement, especially the competitors.
…Though excitement wouldn’t exactly be the word he would use.
Even the most socially inept segyein would be able to sense the tension surrounding the room.
“Hey, it’s okay! You got this!” Mizi said, all sunshine and pink, desperately trying to keep up the naive front.
Ivan kept his gaze elsewhere. He wasn’t sure if that was supposed to make him feel better, but it didn’t. His “certain” victory did not bring him even an ounce of comfort.
“None of you have any faith in me huh?” a certain someone chuckled, suddenly gaining a sense of humor.
“Eh?” Mizi panicked. “N-no! That’s not what I meant!”
That was exactly what she meant.
Sua sighed, finally deciding to stop fiddling with her earrings and engage in conversation. “What we say won’t change the outcome, will it?”
The room fell into an awkward silence.
Till scratched the back of his neck. “W-well yeah, but it would still be nice if someone was rooting for me.”
Someone was already rooting for him, not that he would care.
“…I’ll cheer for you.” The ice queen said after putting much thought into it.
“You will?”
“It can’t be helped,” she shrugged. “Wouldn’t want you to just start bawling on stage because the fact of you being a lonely loser was too much to bear.”
The loser in question didn’t look too offended by that statement. He just huffed and rolled his eyes. “Your love for me truly warms my heart…”
For some reason, Ivan was getting irritated. Maybe it was because their time was running out, maybe it was the obviously forced way everyone was acting so casually.
He got a bit closer and gently tapped Till’s shoulder. “Till?”
Till turned, although in a bit of a jumpy way. Immediate red-light blaring from his collar, of course. Ivan decided to ignore it for the time being.
“Let’s go over our lines one more time.”
“Ah…” he looked up at the clock on the wall. They had maybe 15 minutes left. “…Yeah…sure.”
They left to find a quiet space where they could be alone. Thankfully, there weren’t many people around the changing rooms at this point.
Ivan wasn’t really thinking. This was just another excuse to get Till’s attention, but what was he even supposed to say? What could he say? He had been staring at the lyric sheet for way too long now, right until a hand was waved in front of his face.
“Hey, don’t tell me we’re actually going to practice?” Till mocked.
Unfortunately, Ivan wasn’t amused in the slightest. “Did you have something else in mind?”
That seemed to catch him off guard.
“Wha-? I- You called me here!” he raised his voice, the way Ivan preferred to communicate with him apparently.
It had never been easy to get answers out of Ivan, and Till knew that very well. Beating him up wasn’t really an option anymore, seeing that he needed his face intact for the show.
“Come on! You have the whole studio rooting for you! You can’t be that mad over me getting one damn supporter!”
Now, any normal person would say, is that really what you think this is about?... Ivan was anything but normal.
He raised a brow. “Just one?”
“Well,” Till ruffled his hair as if it wasn’t enough of a mess. “Pretty sure Sua just said that out of pity, but it’s better than nothing.”
“You’re not rooting for yourself?”
Till had the audacity to look confused. “…Why would I do that? That sounds dumb.”
“Yet you’re assuming I’m rooting for myself?” Ivan asked, tilting his head to the side.
“Yes? You ARE dumb.”
Says the guy that barely passed basic algebra.
“I HEARD THAT ASSHOLE!”
Ivan smirked. “Oh, my bad. I thought you already knew.”
Till clicked his tongue, barely holding back on the urge to punch Ivan across the face. “Is there something you want to say or not?! I know damn well we aren’t here to rehearse the fucking song!”
Ivan froze, taken aback by the sudden confrontation. He didn’t know. He really didn’t.
The look on Till’s eyes softened the longer he stared at the other’s face. He took a deep breath. Not angry, just defeated.
“Look, we’re going to die anyway. Just spit it out.”
He was right. Ivan knew that. They could say whatever they wanted to each other and there would be no consequences. They would never see each other again anyway so… why not?
“…Nope,” he said, putting on his usual infuriating smile. “You simply misunderstood my intentions. I have nothing to say to you.”
That might have hurt a bit more than Ivan had intended.
Till looked like he wanted to say something, but he bit his tongue. “Fine, be that way.”
If he had to be honest, he was expecting more of a reaction from Till. Something filled with a bit more rage and annoyance, not just a nod. Guess even one last fight was too much to ask for.
“LAST FIVE MINUTES! PARTICIPANTS PLEASE TAKE YOUR PLACES!”
Never had an announcement made him flinch before.
This was it. No turning back now.
Till took a deep, shaky breath. He wasn’t usually this nervous about getting on stage, but to be fair the stakes weren’t usual this time.
“…Don’t even dream of going easy on me.”
“You sure? You might need it,” Ivan said, leaning to Till’s eye level.
“Oho?” Till’s eye twitched. “Confident, aren’t we? Just don’t cry too hard when I destroy you.”
Ivan chuckled. “How will I cry if I’m dead?”
…Till didn’t entertain that with an answer.
Cheers erupted from the crowd as they took the stage, spotlights burning bright.
Till’s voice rose first, strong and controlled. They had sung the same songs thousands of times before; it just came naturally. Only this time, he had a different resolve.
He wasn’t singing for a grade nor to avoid punishment. His life was on the line, yet he wouldn’t say that was any reason to keep singing either.
Death wasn’t punishment, not for them. But if Till didn’t give it his all, Ivan wouldn’t either.
With each note that left his lips, he could feel the gaze on him get more intense. It wasn’t the eyes of the audience no, it was a dark, endless gaze. One he was all too familiar with.
Ivan took his to cue to join, only amplifying the tone Till has set up. The way he sang had that practiced elegance to it, no matter what genre it was. Just the way the segyein preferred it.
Would he have been singing differently, had things been different?
Would he be singing at all?
Till wondered, but it felt pointless. There was no place for what if’s, he should have accepted that a long time ago.
But he couldn’t help wondering.
What if I hadn’t let go?
A gentle breeze ran through his hair, almost as if it was in synch with the music.
Despite everything, this was what he was made for. The stage, the spotlight, the stars…
This was where he belonged. Even if things were different, he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. He couldn’t be anywhere else.
Their eyes met, holding a longer note.
Deep as the night sky, the eyes that always watched him. Observing… unnerving and yet comforting. Even after all these years he still couldn’t read those eyes that never left him. It could’ve been different… had he tried harder.
Till held out his hand. To his surprise, Ivan hesitated just for a moment before taking it, as if they hadn’t practiced it many times before.
Just what the hell was he doing? This wasn’t the time to mess things up. They couldn’t afford to make mistakes. Not here, not ever.
Focus.
It was a simple routine… at least it was supposed to be. Till had never been good at dancing.
Just don’t make him stumble.
A few more lines left… just had to hold on for a few more seconds.
The wind was picking up, feeling even colder against his skin damp with sweat.
It was taking all his willpower to keep his voice from shaking. He couldn’t even tell if he was succeeding, Ivan’s voice was drowning his out. Not because Ivan was singing any louder…
Was it enough to cover up his mistakes? Did it even matter? Either way he was going to-
The scoreboard lit, numbers going up.
Light reflecting through Till’s eyes must have caught Ivan’s attention.
Just before he could get a glimpse of their points, Till grabbed Ivan’s head from the sides, forcing him to face him with trembling hands. It was the least he could do for him at this point.
Was it mercy on Ivan? No… not really.
To tell you the truth… I wanted to speak to you more too.
He took a shaky breath, burning through his throat.
You were always watching me, stubbornly sticking to my side like a damn bug…
So please, keep your eyes on me this time too.
Hell he didn’t even know what he was trying to achieve here. This was painful. The look on Ivan’s eyes was painful. The red…
…Can’t say I don’t have any regrets, got a lot of those.
But you know what? This isn’t one of them. I’m glad yours will be the last face I see.
Such an expression too…
Hah… what a loser…
The shot rang in Ivan’s ears long after the blood had splattered on his face.
…What?
His arms moved on their own to catch Till as his body crumpled, the weight settling on his chest like he was suffocating, knees giving out.
Wasn’t this the expected outcome? Wasn’t this what everyone was saying would happen?
…Then why did it feel like a punch in the face?
Hadn’t he long grown out of the childish belief in miracles?
This wasn’t real… it couldn’t possibly be real.
Even though the truth soaked his clothes in bright crimson, he couldn’t accept it. How could he just accept this?
He… this absolute idiot just…
He couldn’t utter a word. He just stared, cradling the meaning of his existence with trembling arms.
Slowly, cautiously he reached to brush back Till’s hair. Offering some comfort maybe, trying not to flinch at the awful gurgling sound he made, choking on his own blood.
Thunderous applause. Clapping and whistling.
The aliens laughed and screamed, spit and fluids flying from their grotesque mouths. The sound of their barbaric joy mocked Ivan to his face.
Laughing… of course they were laughing.
What else would they do but laugh?
This had to be a joke. A cruel, pathetic joke.
“Hah… haha…”
Good one. He really got him there.
…Ridiculous.
His laughter slowly twisted into sobbing and wailing. He held Till tighter, mixing tears and blood, tainting it further.
It stung. He was lower than dirt.
What he wouldn’t give for Till to push him away now, tell him to go away… anything…
Anakt has no mercy to give for failure. The show must go on.
IVAN WIN