Chapter Text
“Noel!”
The scream cut through the air.
The Cyclone rattled violently beneath him, metal groaning like it was about to tear itself apart.
All around him his friends were shouting and holding on to each other. Their words just a lost whisper under the screams of the coaster.
For one second everything stopped.
Then the track broke off.
The coaster lurched.
People screamed.
The world seemed to fade away.
This was it. This is how it all ends.
“Noel!”
He woke with a gasp.
Darkness.
A sleeping bag tangled around his legs.
The choir sleepover. Ocean had insisted it was “group bonding.”
Noel’s chest heaved as he sat up. For a few moments he forgot where he was. His heart hammered against his chest so hard it hurt his ribs.
The coaster.
The fall.
His friends.
His eyes darted across the room, sleeping bags covered the floor. They’re alive. Every single one of them was alive.
The realization should have put his mind at ease. It didn’t. His breathing only grew faster. It felt real. Every second of it felt real. He shut his eyes tight, trying to get rid of the images engraved into his mind, but they kept coming back. The screams, the drop, the certainty he was about to die.
A rustle sounded beside him. Mischa was sitting up next to him, his hair messy from sleep.“Are you okay?” He said in a low voice, as to not wake the other choir members.
Noel shook his head immediately.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” He said, still out of breath. Mischa raised a brow. “No, really, I’m okay. Go back to bed, Mischa.”
“You look like you might pass out.”
“I’m fine.” That lie sounded weak even to Noel.
Mischa scooted closer.
“Noel,”
“Mischa, please, I’m okay.”
“You are literally shaking.”
Noel looked down to his trembling hand.
For a moment neither of them spoke, then Mischa sighed.
“Look, I am not sure what happened, but I am not leaving you like this.”
Noel swallowed. “It’s stupid.”
“Don’t care.”
Noel went silent. Mischa's face softened. “Bad dream?”
Noel nodded.
A silence settled between them before Mischa opened his arms slightly.
“C’mere.”
Mischa was always different when he was with Noel. He was softer, gentler. Mainly because he knew he could be. He didn’t have to hide behind his gangster persona and rage. He was comfortable enough to be himself.
Noel wanted to decline his offer. He wasn’t anything worth worrying about. But, on the other hand, all Noel wanted right now was to be held and told he was going to be okay.
So, instead of rejecting, he leaned forward.
Mischa’s arms wrapped around him tightly, resting his chin on the top of Noel’s head.
“Try going back to sleep.” He muttered.
Noel shut his eyes, falling asleep to the steady rhythm of Mischa’s heartbeat.
-----------------------------------------
That morning came too fast. The day of the Saint Cassian Chamber choir competition. The group all piled into Ocean’s car and drove to the annual Fall Fair.
They performed their song (which Noel thought was mediocre at best). They had time between judging and awards so the group went off to enjoy the rides.
The sun was bright that day, pop music playing from the speakers, the smell of fried dough and sugar hung through the air.
For a while, Noel pretended he was fine, like he wasn’t waiting for a horrific accident. He walked with the group. He laughed when they laughed. He nodded when someone would point out a ride they wanted to go on.
But there was this tightness in his chest that he couldn’t shake. Like something had already happened and he was just waiting to catch up.
“Oh, The Cyclone!” Constance called out, pointing towards the roller coaster.
The group seemed to simultaneously agree, except for Noel.
He froze.
The sounds of the distant track made Noel’s skin crawl. His mind flashed back.
Screaming.
Falling.
Darkness.
“Noel? You okay?” Mischa asked him quietly.
Noel swallowed. “I-I don’t feel great.” He didn’t mean to lie. It was just that he wasn’t sure he could bring himself to ride The Cyclone. “I think I just need a minute.”
Ocean rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. “Okay, fine, we’ll do it later.”
The group settled on a nearby bench, sitting down, talking and laughing as normal.
But Noel couldn’t stop watching The Cyclone. Every time it rumbled overhead, something in his stomach twisted tighter.
Mischa sat beside him. “You still thinking about last night?”
“...yeah.” He admitted.
“You’re here.” He said simply, “You’re fine. Nothing’s going to happen.”
Noel started to believe him. Maybe Mischa was right. Nothing bad could happen just because of one dream. The coaster went up and down. Safe. Up and down again. Safe.
It wasn’t until a few more minutes later that the sound changed. A sharp metallic sound cut through the air.
Noel’s head sprung up.
The Cyclone was moving too fast. People on the ride were still laughing. Not aware of what was to come.
Then the sound broke. A sickening crash filled the air.
Bodies fell to the ground. Blood spilled out. Pieces of the coaster impaled through the bodies of those who rode it. The front axle of the coaster lit on fire immediately burning whoever was in it.
Noel stood without realizing.
Time seemed to move slower.
Screams filled the air.
Running feet pounded against the asphalt.
A chaos of voices blending into one ,unbearable sound.
Mischa was now standing next to Noel, but he didn’t say anything. It had seemed that in the tragedy, his voice had been taken.
Noel felt genuinely sick now, because all he could see was them on the ride. How it was supposed to go.
His knees felt weak, his breathing had stopped working.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not like this.
Somewhere nearby, somebody was crying. Another was shouting for help.
The sirens began to blair in the distance.
All Noel’s mind could latch onto was one thought:
It should have been us.
This is all my fault.
I killed those people
His hands shook violently.
“No…” He said voice barely audible.
Mischa grabbed Noel’s shoulder, steadying him. Noel barely felt it.
It was all hitting Noel too fast. He couldn’t look at this anymore. All at once, he turned into Mischa’s chest, gripping his shirt
“I’m sorry,” Noel choked out, “This is all my fault.”
Mischa remained silent for another moment before he wrapped his arms tightly around Noel.
“It’s not your fault, Noel.”
But he couldn't stop shaking.
Because all he could feel was an eerie resemblance of what he was told wasn't real.
Ambulance sirens sounded off so loud it shook Noel’s bones. Their flashing lights painting streaks across the fair. People were pushed back, orders were shouted, people were still screaming. Noel couldn’t bring himself to look up at any of it.
If he looked up, it would be real. If he looked up he would have to accept that his dream wasn’t a dream at all.
It was a warning.
His fingers gripped Mischa’s shirt tighter.
“Hey.” Mischa spoke quietly, trying to hide the shaking in his voice. Noel didn’t answer. He can’t look up. He can’t look up.
“Hey, look at me.” His voice was more demanding this time. Slowly, Noel lifted his head, making sure to keep his eyes on Mischa and not what surrounded him.
For the first time, Noel saw Mischa scared. His eyes were wide and face was drained of all color. It was strange to Noel.
“Noel,” Mischa said, carefully this time “please, talk to me.”
“That should have been us.”