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Tristan Dane Dallas also known as the “Christian Dean” of Zeyn_Syre studios has become a popular, reoccurring name online.
Born from a simple life to suddenly becoming a rising star, Tristan held onto every knowledge he could get since his first step into the acting industry. His acting lessons, physical training and method acting skills didn't go to waste as he slowly climbed the acting hierarchy and made a name for himself in the fame of celebrities. From a stunt double, to an extra, and slowly, to having his own movie as the main protagonist. His greatly crafted talent opens opportunities for a future in his acting career.
The world praised his acting with both love and hatred for his character's action—triggering a rollercoaster of emotions enough to keep the audience entertained and other directors interested in his potential.
The Zeyn_Syre franchise is Tristan's first movie as a lead role and a major character in the story.
And hopefully, it wouldn't be the last, either.
“And… cut!”
Director ZTC clapped her hands proudly as she announced the final movie take, immediately allowing the actors to exhale and strip their role’s masks off before it gets too tight. Tristan smiled, satisfied. Tired, but full.
“You alright, kiddo?”
Alexus approached—the veteran actor playing the role of Alexander Lee, winner of seven Oscars for Best actors award, and declared as the “Most handsome man of the year” for 5 years straight.
Tristan nodded, a polite smile on his face.
“Yeah… Thank you again f-for the tips, sir.”
Alexus chuckled and patted Tristan's back like they've known each other forever. Although there's at least some truth in it, they've known each other for 2 years now… Tristan doesn't think he could ever get used to Alexus’ presence. An actor of a much higher status is… kind of intimidating, after all.
Especially after what happened 2 years ago, during the audition of Actors for the role of Christian Dean.
“No need for formalities. Just call me Alex, Tris.”
Tristan gave a wry smile but remained quiet after. They walked back upstairs to their assigned rooms that overlooked the original set's green screen studio. Alexus walked and hovered near the railings like a mastermind overlooking his creation of chaos—and Tristan—attracted by that light like a moth, followed him and stood beside him.
“Do you remember the first lesson I gave you as an actor with a main role?”
Alexus turned his head to Tristan, and Tristan's gaze remained forward, nodding his head in reply as he viewed the landscape like it's his kingdom and he sat at the throne like an ambitious prince.
“ … Do not let the character's actions and personality eat you as a person.”
Alexus smiled, satisfied.
“Good.”
Then a peaceful quiet lingered. For a moment, the two just stood there side by side, a mentor to a student. Ironically enough, even as actors, Tristan does look at Alexus as if he's his teacher—the one with experience and wisdom that guided him under his wing to sharpen his skills and make it efficient to survive through—a parallel to their character's relationship inside the lore series.
“Actors take time adjusting in every setting and every role they're put on. Whether it's a major or a minor role. But, it's in your best interest to learn to desensitize yourself now while it's still early on into the lore. You know this, yes?”
Tristan nodded again, this time, attentive and more enthusiastic. Alexus hummed in approval, finding the other's hunger for knowledge worthy of appreciation.
“You have a goal in mind and that's to make sure you deliver your character exactly as they are while ensuring you don’t lose yourself amidst. You'll do well with this in mind, I am confident in that.”
Tristan smiled this time, receiving a head ruffle from the older man. He chuckled at the gesture, feeling like a kid again but not stopping it.
“I won't. Thank you… si-Alex.”
Alexus inclined his head, before turning around to leave. But before he fully did, he waved a hand almost lazily to Tristan and gestured at his space.
“Oh, and do me a favor while you're at it; please remind my brother to start preparing and double-checking his luggages for his flight back to Korea tomorrow. I don't want 엄마 (Eomma) to scold him for tardiness again.”
Tristan let out an exhale between a laugh and amusement, but he complied regardless. Once Alexander is out of sight, that's the only time Tristan himself leaves and enters his room.
“Oh, Red! Welcome back! How did it go?”
Tristan smiled as a much younger version of the man he was just talking to greeted him. Wearing Hello Kitty pajamas paired with a white tank top hugging his figure—stood Andrei Park, the actor of none other than the main villain of the Zeyn_Syre series; Andrew Lee.
His hair was tousled, fluffy in a way like it just lost a fight with the wind. His eyes were soft, which is scary to look at if you didn't know who he is in real life but watched the entirety of Zeyn_Syre lore. And that uncharacteristically feminine clothes that he'd totally justify wearing because it's comfortable, makes him look so out of character yet so close to home.
Tristan and Andrei had been friends for a lot longer before the set existed itself. They were at the same workshop when they were both still starting off as students, and ever since then, they've been inseparable. They've been with each other through each other's projects—big or small. Where one is working, you'd be able to find the other either just there for moral support, or to pick the other up for a quick lunch.
You'd never see them apart even if you separate them for two different projects.
Until now, in the same movie, the only reason Andrei even auditioned for a role was because it was the first movie Tristan starred in as a main actor. He wanted to be there for the other—though unfortunate it had to be opposed to each other. Not even Alexus could've forced him to try auditioning even if he asked. And now that they both got a role at the same studio, they refuse to share any other room with anyone else. They didn't even bother thinking about sharing a room with their own brothers.
“It went well. I finished at least 3 separate scenes today.”
“Good job.”
Andrei smiled back, proud of the other. Behind the camera, the entire set knew just how sweet and gentle Andrei is. That's why it was such a surprise seeing him take on a villainous role and deliver the character flawlessly and with no mercy for the main cast; especially Tristan's.
They expected a hint of bias bleeding through the two as their friendship was bound to take a toll on their roles. But Andrei and Tristan only proved them wrong.
“Oh, I met Alexus earlier by the way. He said you should start preparing now. Don't want your mother scolding you, no?”
Andrei chuckled, flashing Tristan that bright, toothy grin.
“He's just afraid to get yelled at too. When 엄마 (Eomma) is mad, we're both taking the blame no matter who did it or didn't.”
Tristan barked a laugh at that.
“Then start preparing, idiot! Get up, get up!”
The room erupted in chuckles and giggles, as Andrei stood up and was practically pushed to their bedroom so he'd finish his packing.
The Zeyn_Syre series was one of the most complicated franchises that challenged the media with its mixtures of genres for just one series to navigate. It has won several awards and oscars, such as “Best script writing”, “Oscar Award for best acting” and many, many more. However, with the dark and heavy themes that the still ongoing series explore, Director ZTC gives her actors time to unwind and take breaks from the set to regulate themselves.
Andrei's turn came that day, after he finally finished his scenes for the episode “Up, up, right?”. It was another episode filled with different forms of psychological triggers; A toxic household, adultery, manipulation, pressure and most of all… murder. It was meant to portray Andrew's roots of tyranny awakening, and Andrei delivered just that, if not more.
But the price it took is his mental health.
“I'm okay… I'm still okay…” Andrei's voice carried that natural softness in him that comes after he strips off of the villainy his role naturally requires of him. And yet his voice trembled. His hands trembled. And he clung to Alexus and Tristan tighter that night as if letting them go would mean letting himself go, too.
Alexus requested for a break on Andrei's behalf after that day. Even when Andrei swore he was okay, even when he tried his best to stop Alexus from doing so, Alexus could NOT be bothered. If he had to, he was going to threaten the whole set to shut down if nothing goes his way.
12:13 p.m
< : Red! What souvenir do you want from Korea? ]
Tristan smiled when he finally got some time to check his phone after rehearsal. They were training for an upcoming arc that demands their combatant skills to be sharper. They were just given 10 minutes to rest before going again.
12:49 p.m.
[ Surprise me :D : >
< : • • •
< : Oki :b
“Oh? He's updating you and not me? I'm jealous.”
Tristan could've sworn his soul almost left his body when a deep voice suddenly boomed behind him. He turned almost immediately, and was met face to face with Alexus, still in his black compressed shirt that made him Alexander—a remarkable character.
“A-Alex! You scared me…”
Alexus chuckled softly, before ruffling his hair almost out of habit this time.
“Tell him to update me too, once he's settled down.”
Then, Alexus left and went back to the training grounds with relaxed ease, while the others waited for time to pass and return for training.
A month passed and the “Betrayal Arc” was finally taking place. The set turned from light and loose to suddenly intense and dark. Tristan is working alongside Alexus more often now, and unlike before, they're not just shown under romantic light. Now… It's about a line blurring between friends and foes.
A punch landed on Alexander's face as Dean— enraged—wreaked havoc from the taste of venom and danger. Alexander had betrayed them. Alexander, the man Christian trusted the most, had inevitably led Christian to his temporary downfall. And Dean? Dean was more than angry. He's about to start wars if he had to.
“Divine move.”
Dean let out a scoff in disbelief.
“Divine move? You think you got any moves at all?”
The way Dean's shadow slowly towered over as he loomed like a predator made him look bigger, more intimidating. Behind the cameras, the lighting management tilted the lamp just enough for the shadow to look clear and more metaphoric—sending the message to both the audience and the actors themselves.
“You can kill Andrew, Zeyn. ”
Dean growled. More threat than permission. The final straw snapped as the betrayal finally came to light. Evelyn was knelt by Alexander as Alexander helplessly held his bleeding mouth in an attempt to stop the injury from worsening even more. Kai and Edward hovered with worry from behind while Zeyn placed her arms around him, attempting to assist and protect him from further harm against Dean.
“But me? ME? I'm Christian Dean, you can't kill ME.”
Something in Blake suddenly snapped, his body suddenly grew tense—sharp and eyes filled with malevolence and anger, before charging at Dean in full force.
In the script, Dean was meant to grab Blake by the face, and hit his head against the wall while smiling.
He did.
But he wasn't smiling.
Because something felt wrong.
Something felt wrong to Tristan.
“Blake!! No!!”
He did as his script told him to. But the sound felt too real. Blake's head cracked in a way one only would when severely fractured. When Alexander screamed at the sight, Dean threw Blake at him, and Alexander was left a cursing mess.
“Fuck, fuck…!”
Tristan watched behind Dean's mask as Blaine played his role exceptionally well, and partnered with a veteran like Alexander made him even better.
And yet he just couldn't help the thoughts that entered his mind.
Tristan would never do that to Blaine.
Tristan would never do that to his brother.
Dean's eyes flickered with simmering irritation.
Tristan's eyes flickered with fear.
For just one moment, his hand hesitated. The grin he's supposed to wear like a mock disguised under insanity was forgotten. He forgot about Dean. He forgot about Christian. He forgot about Alexander. He forgot about Blake.
He saw his brother that just stole his last pancake an hour ago.
He saw Alexus who was meant to be the original Christian Dean, but sacrificed that role for Tristan so he could have his first main movie as the star, not as an extra.
It wasn't enough for the camera to catch, but it was enough for his insides to coil.
Then the mask fell back on.
And Dean is at play again. Cruel, cold, unpredictable.
Because even if he loved his brother too much for this to feel too real, the camera was still playing and he couldn't afford to mess things up.
He couldn't afford losing this opportunity to get the world and the acting industry to look at him, nor waste Alexus’ sacrifice.
“He's still alive.”
It wasn't a reassurance. It was an ultimatum. A warning that Dean still holds the higher ground, and he holds the thread of life that courses through everyone’s body at that very moment.
He can cut that line off like a pulse going flat on a monitor.
“But I can't give any promises for you, Alexander. I hate betrayals.”
Dean drawled, every word that came out of his mouth was a new trigger for something much more harmful. Like an access no one knew he's been given permission to—a key to ruin their lives.
He can see it through Alexander’s eyes. The fear, the helplessness, the worry, the last flickers of devotion that slowly hesitates when your loved ones are on the line against whom you yearn for.
Two more scenes left.
With Micah and Zeyn.
“He'll kill Xander if we don't do something…”
Micah cocks a gun in his hand with practiced ease, as he slowly lifted it up—pointing it straight at Zeyn's head.
“Trust me, Zeyn.”
Zeyn's eyes widened. Fear, doubt, and an overwhelming sense of panic hits her all at once.
“Micah No-!”
Tristan's cue.
He turned his head menacingly slow, before his eyes landed on Micah with a quiet promise for a slow and painful death.
Then, in one swift move, Dean was already in front of Micah. And he could've sworn he heard the other curse under his breath.
“Fuck-”
But before his hand could even touch a hair on his head, Zeyn threw herself forward and to him—pushing them both away from Dean as much as possible.
That's the only time Christian/Dean suddenly hesitated.
Because they were doing everything right. They fought their way for freedom through literal hell just to come back to life.
“I don't understand… why?”
That's right.
Why…?
Why does it feel too…
“—And… cut! Good job everybody! Let's wrap this up.”
Everybody immediately started scattering away, footsteps loud and purposeful, as if they already know where they're destined to go.
Evangeline (Evelyn) was wrapped in a towel and a bottle of water was handed to her by her PA. Malcolm (Micah) stood next to her to start a conversation about how everything was executed and how his acting was on camera to take notes of what he needs to improve. Zarina (Zeyn) immediately started play-wrestling with Kairus (Korey) and Edwin (Edward) shook his head at them and laughed softly. Alexus (Alexander) starts helping Blaine (Blake) up and gently asks him if he's hurt or injured anywhere from the impact of their rash movements.
The warehouse where the scene took place was suddenly filled with a clinical-white light as cameras began to settle their watchful gazes down, and the ambiance for the tensed scenes slowly softened to something kinder.
But Tristan didn't move a muscle.
Not yet.
His eyes were wide in a way that's too empty and full at the same time. His body was frozen amidst time and space of what happened and what didn't.
He remembered what Alexus said; Do not let the character eat you as a person.
He remembered it, word by word, by meaning, by wisdom, by understanding.
He couldn't remember how to apply it.
And that realization—before even fully forming—was immediately replaced by intrusive thoughts that slowly unraveled his mind like the calm before the storm;
“Did I hurt Blaine? What if I hit him against the wall too hard? I heard something crack then… What if I caused him a head injury? Or worse… brain injury?”
“Alexus fell on the floor with such a loud thud. Did I push him too hard? His mouth was bleeding so much… What if that wasn't part of the script anymore? He looked so terrified of me…”
“My head hurts… I'm scared… Did I hurted them…?”
Outside, Tristan's thoughts remained unsaid.
Instead, they came out as shuddering breaths.
Alexus was the first to notice.
It took him awhile—getting over through everyone before Tristan. He checked up on Blaine first, asked him if he handled him too roughly when he caught him after he fell. He asked if there's any dynamic, positioning, or physical movements they should rehearse ahead of time to avoid strains in the nearer future. For a veteran like Alexus, he cared deeply about the comfort of his co-actors. After Blaine, he did the same to the others. Asked how they're doing and if he can help them with anything. Only when he finished with them did he finally start looking for Tristan to congratulate him.
But when he found him still standing at the same spot he used to be in, eyes blank and terrified, shoulders unexpectedly tense, jaws clenched and sweat budding in his forehead like it's forcing themselves out of his body that got nowhere to go…
Alexus immediately realized what was going on.
It got many names when he first met the same monster eating Tristan whole; from the mildest being Role Engulfment, Acting residue, Identity Diffusion…
The worst being Depersonalization in the long run.
And he prayed it's not the last one.
Because if Tristan's character slowly starts eating him whole… If Christian's role, goals, and themes started bleeding through Tristan without his control…
That could cost him everything.
With a heave of breath, Alexus approached Tristan with immediacy yet fluid calmness so as to not overwhelm him. If he's got it right, then Tristan is probably in-between a breakdown and a panic attack. Both internal and external perceptors can trigger him easily.
Alexus needed to catch him before he fell without towering over him.
But just as he was about to do so…
“Hey Tristan! Good job for earlier!”
Kairus’ loud voice boomed across the warehouse’s echoing walls, making Alexus flinch and grimace. He looked at Tristan panicky, but when Tristan remained despondent, he sighed. Not in relief, just that Tristan is at least still holding on…
But oh how wrong he was…
“Tristan…?”
Alexus whispered, slowly reaching out—hesitant, before his hand slowly wrapped around Tristan's wrist.
And that was the final straw.
“Don't touch me!! Please!”
Tristan's screams came through like layers of Soundwaves trapped around metal walls that made it echo. His voice was a shrill, eyes still wide open and unblinking, but now with tears pooling in them like a dam that finally broke. The crew and the actors scrambled around—surprised, terrified, and worried—as they all ran towards Tris while the others covered their ears in fear and pain.
“What happened? Is he okay?”
The entire crew panickingly asked Alexus, who flinched back in surprise as Tristan fell on his knees—months of suppressed emotions and tiring work hours finally coming back to him. Shadows from the forming crowd loomed over him like a mock—worsening his anxiety as their shadows made him feel small. Alexus held them back, explaining that they can't hover around him in his state. Murmurs filled the place as they saw Tristan on the floor. Some felt pity, others were concerned, but to Tristan—they all sounded the same;
“He's probably just doing it for attention.”
“He should know better than to make a scene.”
“Is that how a good actor acts? If he couldn't handle something so small, how could he think of aiming so high?”
Tristan closed his eyes, his shoulders shaking as violent sobs left him against his own accord. He covered his face, curling inward on the floor with barely controlled emotions and thoughts.
Everything was too loud, everything was too cold, everything was too much.
He just wants it all to stop…
“Please… make it stop…”
His voice was breaking between a whimper and a silent plea—afraid, hurt, suffocating.
He didn't know how they got him in the car, nor how the car ride went…
It just did.
And Tristan—inconsolable, breathless, eyes almost animalistically wild with haze and tears…
Felt what's it like when the world finally places its entire weight on those with the ambition to crush you whole.
Alexus had placed a weighted faux fur blanket on Tristan in order to get him moved. He wrapped him in when his sniffles and sobs slowly weakened—not calming down, not necessarily—but weakening enough that it's tiring him out. When Tristan curled inwards, Alexus took it as an opportunity to finally carry him—covering the other's eyes with a cloth rather than his own hands. Assuming that Tris didn't want to be touched, skin contact made him too sensitive and reactive. Alexus took a mental note of it as he rushed him out of the scene, silently muttering orders on what the rest should do. The crew moved in sync with him, following along as Alexus himself tried his best to remain calm in order to not trigger Tristan further.
Once Alexus entered the van, Tristan was settled on his lap—forehead on his chest as he cradled the back of his head. Tristan was shaking in his hold, and Alexus could only hope his warmth grounds the other back to reality. As the van's engine slowly roared to life, the main actors entered another van, and only Tristan's and Alexus’ PA followed them inside.
“Where to, sir?”
The driver asked. Alexus didn't hesitate;
“The clinic at the main set. We can't afford paparazzis seeing us.”
Back at the main set, the tension in the air was as deafening as the silence surrounding them. Tristan rests inside one of the clinic beds—sobbing under weighted blankets as muffled inaudible whimpers can be heard here and there. He's not calmed down at all, not even during the ride. The harsh, white lights of the clinic only made it worse to the point that he had almost wrapped himself in a cavern-mount of blankets—fully hiding himself from the light and refusing to respond to anyone.
“What… had happened out there… Alex?”
Nathan—another veteran actor for the role of Ethan Collins—asked, observing how Tristan shifts uncomfortably inside the blanket like a restless puppy from outside the glass window overviewing the scene.
Those that weren't a part of the scene narrative stayed at the main set to rest until their next scene comes. Nathan was one of them. So for Alexus and the rest to arrive with disaster following them through like a tail… It wasn't a pleasant surprise for Nate and the others to welcome them with.
Alexus sighed under his breath, as he watched Blaine enter the clinic and attempted to comfort his older brother. But Tristan rejected his touch, flinching away and whimpering whenever the weight of his hands fell on top of his figure.
“Tristan had a mental breakdown after we finished the main scene of Betrayal Arc. He probably couldn't handle the violent themes anymore.”
Nathan's brows furrowed at that, shaking his head in disappointment and worry.
“About time. He never took breaks. Director ZTC kept asking him if he needed time. He kept declining. The rookie had to learn why actors take breaks here and there from somewhere.”
A pause. Then Nathan nudged him.
“You know it's partially your fault, right?”
Nathan started. Alexus raised a brow.
“Why, exactly?”
Nathan gave him a cheeky, teasing grin.
“If you took the role of Christian Dean Syre the first time it was handed to you, Tristan wouldn't have to catch that role.”
Silence again. Until Alexus took a sharp breath that's between a scoff and a snicker.
“I had no regrets. I have taken roles as the main protagonist in many movies. People have already seen my specialty. It's time they see the new actors shine.”
Nathan's smile softened at that, and he rested his head on the other's shoulder momentarily.
“Then, I'm sure Tristan will be okay.”
Alexus returned the smile and rested a hand on Ethan's back. Although he's still laced with worry as he never took his eyes off Tristan.
“Yeah… I'm sure he will.”
Somewhere across the scene, the others rested—tired and tensed from what had just happened. Gossips among the casts had filled the space, Destiny's actor—Desiree and Michael's actor—Mikhail were asking Malcolm for updates on what had happened to Tristan. After finding out what happened on the scene, their faces etched with noticeable worry, as they looked at each other.
“I've read from a book that when someone is anxious, it would be nice for their comfort person be there for them…” Desiree started, fiddling with her necklace’s pendant—a sign of nervousness. Mikhail tilted his head at that.
“Does Tristan have a comfort person…?”
Malcolm and Desiree turned to him.
“Andrei.” They said until unison.
Then, silence. Before Mikhail broke it again.
“And… where is Andrei?”
Kairus chimed in.
“Korea. He took a break after Alexus found signs he’s about to break like that.”
Kairus gestured to the clinic.
And when silence followed them again, this time, it's with a hint of helplessness on what would happen next.
The whole set navigated in that fragile quiet. The director quietly signed off a consent waiver for Tristan's leave. Everyone moved like they're threading on eggshells, and the rest of the cast settled down in their rooms with the gloomy atmosphere bleeding through.
That was, until…
“Wow. Since when has this set ever been silent?”
The familiar cheery voice echoed through the halls, breaking the tension. Wheels rolled on the floor tiles from heavy luggages, as bags slumped on the floor with a loud thud.
Alexus and Nathan froze. Their eyes met each other's.
Then, like a realization that dawned too late;
“Andrei.”
Alexus was the first to rush.
Meanwhile, at the door, Andrei struggled to push his luggages inside. He had come back a month earlier than his contract had given him for his leave. He wanted to spend the rest of it on set if he's allowed.
Although… he is currently thinking on what excuse to tell his brother why he’s back so early without getting scolded.
I came back early because I missed you guys!
Eh… too sappy…
I want to have more time for rehearsals.
That's exactly the reason Alexus would yell at him.
As footsteps slowly neared Andrei's direction, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Whatever comes out of his mouth is what he'll stick with. He'll take accountability of whatever is given to him after.
But when the footsteps finally stopped in front of him…
“Look, I know it's still early— Ah-!?”
Alexus practically slumped his younger brother in his back and carried him back from where he came from.
“No time! Tristan needs you!”
“Huh!?”
Andrei was expecting many different reactions from his older brother; Stressed, Disappointed, Angry, or maybe Happy… if he's lucky enough.
But never to randomly carry him in his back like they were back 14 years ago.
“W- What's going on!? Y'all are scaring me-”
Andrei could've sworn he saw Nathan following behind, carrying his luggages inside with the help of the other working background crew.
Finally, Alexus dropped him to his feet in front of the clinic.
“What am I doing here exactly…? And hello to you too, dear brother.”
Andrei rolled his eyes, sarcasm in his tone. But deep down, he's just really confused about what's happening. He left the set for 2 months, and when he came back, he felt like he walked in on a funeral service. Hell, even a funeral service had more noise than whatever he had just stepped on.
Alexus opened his mouth to reply, then closed it.
Some things are better seen than said.
“Enter the clinic. You'll see for yourself.”
Alexus was never really a jerk to Andrei. Sometimes, maybe he does have some… quirks, but he rarely ever pulls pranks, which makes him unpredictable. But with the unreadable expression he's wearing on his face, Andrei really couldn't distinguish whether he's just about to pull something off, or if something vague at best is going on.
“Alexus I swear, I just got back and you’re already-”
“Tristan is inside the clinic. Just see him, please.”
Andrei froze at that, then hesitated. His brother will never make jokes about someone's well-being as they have always been forbidden by their mother to make jokes about sickness or death. He turned to the glass window to observe, but what he only saw inside was a pile of covers and Blaine sitting on the side.
With a bit of reluctance, Andrei took a step at the door and twisted the door knob.
The light on the clinic room was sterile and artificial. Like something that orders you to calm down instead of providing it. Blaine immediately stood up, surprised that he'd already returned so early from his leave, but Andrei just nodded at him. For a moment, they just stood there, speaking only with gestures and body languages. Blaine inclined his head to the bed with a cocoon of blankets, confirming to Andrei that it's Tristan in there. Andrei raised a brow, wondering what had happened, but Blaine only approached, and patted his back.
“He's been like that for a while… I'm glad you're here, I think he'll listen to you better. Please… watch over him for a moment…?”
Blaine left the room to give them space. Andrei let the silence lingered but longer, as if testing the waters, before finally speaking again—in the quietest and softest way he could manage;
“And I was just about to surprise you too…”
Then, the blanket shifted.
Tristan had lost track of time, drowning in his thoughts and the misery his mind had decided to put him through. He couldn't estimate it—when it had started to bottle up like this. Was it during the first time he's introduced to Christian's work? The neon lights of the club that transitions through color by color before Christian had to leave for the night and then his eyes had to adjust into the darkness again. Was it the temperature changes? One moment it's hot, the other moment it's cold. Or was it the texture of red liquid that sticks in his body? Too sticky, too warm…
Too… permanent.
When he heard the door click, he flinched and felt his stomach turn. Did Blaine got tired of trying to comfort him out of it too? Had he been too high maintenance? Why couldn't he just suck it in and go back to working? Why was it so hard for him to get his mind out of that horrible scenario? Why won't it listen to Alexus when he said he shouldn't let the role eat him whole? Did he disappoint them? Did he disappoint him…? Was he too mentally soft for this role after all…?
And then, just before he fell into an even deeper state of mental instability…
A very familiar voice spoke that immediately lifted his spirits up.
“I was just about to surprise you too… I even got you some things…”
That made Tristan jump.
Then, without any second thoughts, he flailed his way out of the blankets, eager to see and confirm who he thought he just heard.
And when he finally got out of his bundle—hair messy, eyes puffy, cheeks reddened…
Tears came back—but this time… from relief.
“Andy!”
Andrei didn't waste a second as he reached Tristan in two quick strides and almost practically slammed his whole body down on him in a very tight and warm hug.
And the thing is; Tristan didn't scream nor repulsed his touch.
In fact, he clung to it like an anchor. Like he's the only thing his mind has been waiting for to actually calm down.
“What happened to you, Red?”
That broke Tristan further. He could hear the utter worry in the way Andrei's voice grew low and then had a lilt in them—a sign that his own emotions are getting through him. For years through their friendship, he had never heard the other call him by that nickname without the genuine happiness, excitement, or tease in his voice. That nickname—birthed from Tristan's love for the said color to the point that almost everything he owned is at least a shade of red—had become a crafted identity that bloomed from affection. Andrei started it as an inside joke when they started sharing a room and his color dominated every wall, ceiling and floor of their shared space. Andrei pretended to complain about how it makes the room monotonous, but secretly harbored love for the color, too.
And now… Andrei is calling him that same nickname with sadness in his voice.
And Tristan will never be able to forgive himself for it.
Andrei slowly lifted his head, brushing Tristan's hair out of the way. He observed his face—the blotchy make up that was meant to hide an actor's facial imperfections, the waterfall of tears that never seemed to stop, and the sweat that reflected the war he had just come across today.
Andrei planted a soft kiss on his forehead, his own eyes misting.
Maybe Andrei was too empathic for the world. Maybe his peers were right when they claimed he was too soft for his own good.
But Andrei could never, EVER bear to see his loved ones cry.
“What happened, mm? Were you hurt?”
Tristan shook his head, too tired and overwhelmed to speak.
“I left for a month and this is how I found you? Do you know how scared I was when Alexus brought me to the clinic and said you were inside?”
Tristan could only sob in reply. Deep down, he knew Andrei wasn't lying. He'd worry day and night for him and Alexus when their scenes are too heavy for them to act. He'd worry for Malcolm and Nathan every time they had a scene where Ethan or Micah had to be in the same room as his character. Andrei worries. A lot. That's just how deep he loves everyone he meets.
And he made him worry.
“I- I'm sorry…”
Tristan sniffled, his voice barely a loud whimper. But Andrei just clicked his tongue at him and buried his head in the other's hair, trying to calm himself before he ended up breaking from worry, too.
“Hush. You don't get to apologize for being human.”
They stayed like that for a while, with Andrei anchoring Tristan's shaky, breathing patterns with his steady ones. Once he made sure Tristan had calmed down—at least enough that he stopped shaking—Andrei slowly lifted his body from Tristan, stripped himself off of the dark blue fur coat he's wearing, and wrapped it around Tristan's body.
“Let's get you to our room… Ok? We have softer lighting there. Your eyes will get irritated here if we stay longer.”
Andrei didn't wait for a response. He didn't have to when it's with Tristan. He just gently scooped the other up in his arms, cradled his head, and then left the room.
Alexus and Blaine stood up upon seeing Tristan in Andrei's arms, but none dared question it. They just followed him suit in case he needed something from them.
Once Andrei reached his room with Tristan, he opened the door and immediately went to the bathroom, settling Tristan in the dry bathtub. The bathroom lights have different adjustment settings, and Andrei picked the one with a warmer tone. For a moment, Tristan just stays there, while Andrei picks up pillows in their bedroom to turn the bathtub into a temporary resting place. Both of them had never truly seen each other fall this bad down the rabbit hole, which makes Tristan wonder how Andrei seemed to know everything needed to be done. But with the idea that Andrei is the younger brother of the great veteran actor Alexus, It's not really as surprising to think.
“How are you feeling?”
Andrei popped Tristan's thought bubble as he handed him a bottle of water. Tristan took it with sweaty hands and grateful eyes.
“A bit better… thank you, Andy.”
Tristan slowly twisted the cap off, and with Andrei's much steadier hands it opened. He drank a lot—reflecting his exhaustion, and Andrei smiled through it, satisfied. Then slowly, he sat next to the tub, laying his head on Tristan's shoulder.
“Good…Got me worried there… I don't know what I'd do if I lost you…”
Tristan smiled faintly, caressing the other's head.
“You wouldn't have. I know you won't let me fall.”
Silence.
And this time, Tristan's thoughts aren't drilling on his skull.
And Andrei isn't worrying too much about what's going to happen next.
They stayed like that for sometime, comfortable silence lingering in the air. They didn't dare move—just stayed in place, one resting from his jetlag, and the other from own mind.
Then, Andrei spoke again, the signature tease in his voice slowly returning.
“It’s Ironic… no?”
Tristan took a halt on petting Andrei's head. Andrei didn't move anyways.
“The Villain comforting the Protagonist? You know I'm going to put you through much worse scenarios in near future arcs… right?”
Tristan huffed, smiling tiredly. His half-lidded eyes could barely stay open, but they found their way through the other's form on their side—like a magnet clicking with another and setting in place.
“Then… You’re going to have to take responsibility of me the same way, too. I'll hold you indebted to every damage you caused my character… and you'll have to buy me…”
Tristan trailed off for a second, and Andrei checked up on him absent-mindedly, wondering if he's still okay, and curious for what he's about to say next.
“Mm…?” Andrei urged.
Tristan smiled to himself.
“Sushi.”
Andrei raised a brow.
“Sushi…?”
Tristan nodded. Andrei furrowed his brows.
“I'm Korean, Red.”
Tristan's smile turned smug.
“Exactly. Betray your own country for me.”
Andrei faked a whine of indignation, to which Tristan just laughed off.
And in that shared moment of softness, the tension in the air had slowly been lifted—like a curse that had finally been broken, and entrapped memories of someone else's skin finally stripped off. Now, at this very moment, there was no Christian Dean. There was no violent psychopath losing his mind and hurting his family and friends. Right now, it's just Tristan. And his very inconveniently friendly roommate, who plays the man who plans on ruining his life.
“Christian Dean… Be ready…”
Tristan slowly opened his eyes, gazing softly into Andrei's dark ones that reflected an unreadable expression bordering on comically serious, and theatrically overdramatic.
“I will ruin you so bad, you won't get to wear the face of my best friend again.”
Tristan snickered, feeling the other's hands cupping his face, and wiping the forming beads of sweats on his forehead.
“Fear me…”
Andrei whispered—voice in a soft growl, like he's already rehearsing for a character that's not even yet about to make a debut.
“ … please?”
Andrei finishes off, voice suddenly becoming squeaky, making Tristan chuckle more louder than before.