Work Text:
What do you do with yourself after you almost kill someone?
What do you do with yourself after you almost kill someone who you’ve known most of your life?
What do you do with yourself after you almost kill someone who you know likes you?
🧃
Vil stared at the ceiling of the bedroom he’d called home the past month, the clock ticking on the wall slowly. The sound was somehow both too loud and too quiet, especially paired with his shaky breathing. He wasn’t sure if he should close his eyes or keep them open. He was worried that if he closed them, he’d see him.
…he saw him with his eyes open too, though.
He had acted like he was fine earlier. There were still things to be done, a competition to be had. He had to be fine. Even if they lost, and that defeat came with a bitter taste in his mouth that hadn’t quite faded, he had to keep pushing forward.
All that practice felt like it had just gone straight down the drain. All because he couldn’t manage his own emotions. All because he was so… vain.
He hated that word. There was nothing wrong with wanting to take care of yourself, to be… perfect. Especially when you’d lived your life in front of the public eye. He had to be perfect. Who would care about Vil Schoenheit if he wasn’t perfect?
He would. Vil knew that, and it killed him.
He rolled onto his side, watching the slight draft in the old building blow the curtains gently. Flickers of moonlight poured through the cracks, as he watched the simple motion.
The color was similar…
Similar to the curtains at a wrap party he had attended for the last film he was in before starting at Night Raven College. It was nothing special, just another cheesy movie where he played opposite him. Vil had been foolishly optimistic, maybe his last film before a hiatus would get to be one where he played the lead. Of course, though, once you’re in a box the industry loves to smother you with the lid.
He didn’t drink. There were plenty of other teen actors at the event partaking, though. The press had been driven out earlier, and nobody really cared about things like that behind closed doors. Booze flowed freely, the smell on the breath of every executive that approached him to whine about his upcoming break from the spotlight. It was disgusting.
Vil had excused himself to a small corner at the party, eyes fixed on his phone. He knew ads for the film would probably be polluting his timeline sooner than later. He always hated that, having to see himself propped up as the villain every time he wanted to do so much as check Magicam.
He clicked his phone off, glancing up at the party. It’s not like he was friends with any of these people. Maybe there was a time where he was, but anymore Vil didn’t care about any of his co-stars. Well, he cared about one, but not because he cared for him. No, he was a nuisance. The reason Vil never got to play the star.
Almost as if on cue, perhaps he somehow knew Vil was thinking of him, he wandered over.
Neige LeBlanche. The bane of Vil’s existence.
What shocked him was that smell on his breath. Neige was typically very straight-laced, he almost never partook in anything like that.
“Vi~” He chirped, a drunken giggle following as he plopped himself onto the couch next to Vil. “I haven’t seen you at all tonight…” He added, tilting his head as he looked at the older boy.
Vil sighed, he hardly wanted to talk to Neige, let alone drunk Neige. “I’ve… been busy talking to my manager,” Vil lied through his teeth, crossing his arms as he forced a smile onto his face.
Neige didn’t even process the information, instead leaning forward and wrapping his arms around Vil’s, that smile he always wore focused only on Vil. “I’ve missed you…” He said, his voice soft as he looked up at him. “I’m gonna miss you so much Vi…” He huffed, that smile being replaced with a small pout. “Why do you have to be older than me…” He sniffled, now straight-up pouting.
This was different than normal. It felt like the entirety of Neige’s attention was on Vil. It was… overwhelming, and for a moment he was at a loss for words. He was clearly drunk and overly emotional because of it, but it was still odd.
“...because I am.” Vil said, his arm tensing slightly in Neige’s grasp. “I want to focus on my studies. You should probably do the same when you go to college,” he said, brows furrowing slightly.
Neige sighed, before leaning on Vil. He put more of his body weight than he probably realized onto the taller boy, slumping against him. “I guess… All of this isn’t nearly as fun without you…” He complained, sighing. “I like you a lot, Vi…” He said, eyes forward as he leaned against Vil.
That was probably for the best because Vil would not know what to do with himself had Neige made eye contact with him when he said that. What… what the hell did that mean?
Vil didn’t say anything in response, just resigned himself to the fate of being Neige’s pillow for the night. Even if it was not something he wanted to do, it didn’t seem like he had any choice.
Neige sat up slightly, as his hand traced down Vil’s arm, before taking Vil’s hand in his. He leaned over, placing his chin on Vil’s shoulder, looking up at the other boy, pressing himself further into him. “Vi~” He cooed.
Neige was drunk. Vil had to keep reminding himself that as he looked over at the other boy. He could smell the booze. Neige was drunk, that was all this was.
Vil hated Neige, but he hated the fact that his heart was racing more.
Then, seemingly frustrated that Vil wasn’t responding to him, Neige pushed himself up to peck Vil’s lips. The pout on his face quickly turned into a smile, as another very drunk-sounding giggle followed. “Why do you look so shocked, Vi?” He asked, tilting his head. “You’ve kissed in movies before…”
Vil blinked a few times, his mouth ajar. He did, in fact, look shocked.
“Y’know,” Neige continued, as he brought a hand up to Vil’s cheek. “You’re so pretty…” His finger started to mess with Vil’s bangs, as he looked at him. “Y’know, that movie… Let’s…” Neige giggled, biting his lip. “That movie wasn’t that great, so let’s act a little… Do a movie just for us.”
“What are you talking about?” Vil finally managed to push out. Neige was clearly rambling.
“You be the lead, and I’ll be your uh…” He tilted his head, like he was thinking. “Love interest… and this is our big first kiss…”
Neige was drunk.
Neige was drunk.
…but one kiss wouldn’t hurt.
The next day Vil found himself texting Neige first. A simple ‘I hope you slept well after last night’. Last night was confusing, but maybe… Vil wasn’t sure what to think. His phone had chimed with a reply:
‘Oh, hi Vi! I’m fine-ish, haha. Just a killer headache. I don’t even remember why but I must’ve drunk a ton last night… It’s a shame, I meant to wish you a proper farewell before you start school.’
Vil didn’t reply, he just turned his phone off. Right. Neige was drunk. That’s all that was.
Vil decided that he would forget that night just like Neige had. It was only fair, after all… and for the most part, he kept that promise to himself.
Now, though? Lying in bed, after trying to kill Neige LeBlanche? Even if it had been years, that night was plaguing his brain. Uncomfortably so.
Neige liked him. Deep down, Vil knew that. Vil knew that and he still tried to kill him, all for what? For his vain self-interest? Vil hated Neige LeBlanche, but even he could admit that Neige is a talented hard-worker.
Neige… Neige is annoying. Neige is obnoxious. Too cheery… but Vil can’t act like Neige doesn’t deserve everything he has. Neige had nothing and made something out of it. Vil… Vil objectively didn’t have to work as hard as him, even if he did work hard.
All of that, and Neige liked him.
Tears welled in his eyes.
He hates Neige. He hates Neige so much, and Neige likes him. Neige would probably forgive him even if he knew that Vil tried to kill him, and Vil still tried to kill him.
Tears hit the pillow, but Vil hardly even noticed. There were too many thoughts swimming around in his head. Too much to think about… far too much. He tried to quiet them, and even if his head started to get less noisy, there was still that face. That voice.
Even if he didn’t end up actually killing Neige LeBlanche, he was pretty sure that he’d haunt Vil for the rest of his life.