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“So, let me get this straight,” Mizi says. “You said to her, and I quote, ‘I hate when you wear makeup, you look like a clown.’ Did I get that right?”
Luka nods. “Yeah, basically.”
Mizi blinks. “And you used those exact words?”
“Pretty much.”
Mizi stares at him for a moment. She looks at Till. Then back at Luka. Suddenly, she raises her hand and smacks Luka on the side of his head. It’s a hard slap, too, loud enough that Till flinches at the sound.
“Ow!” Luka stumbles back, clutching his head. “The fuck is wrong with you?!”
“You have got to be the biggest asshole I’ve ever met,” Mizi says.
“What did I do?!”
“I never want to hear you complain about being single ever again. No wonder you never get laid.”
“How is this my fault? I swear I can’t say anything anymore or women start going ballistic.”
“Do you want me to hit you again?”
“Guys.” Till rubs his temples, feeling his headache coming back. “Please not now, it’s like nine in the morning.”
Mizi rolls her eyes, glaring at Luka. “Fine, but I swear to god, if I hear another word out of you for the rest of the day…”
Luka glares back. “Fine! As if I’d want to hear your annoying fucking voice anyway.”
“You’re pathetic,” Mizi spits. “Has anyone ever told you that?!”
Till groans.
Till hadn’t experienced much heartbreak in his life. That tended to happen when you spent most of your early years too afraid to leave your room or speak to anyone.
That was until he met Mizi.
The first time Till saw her was in a club he’d noticed on some alleyway poster. He’d been having a particularly rough week and figured some shitty drinks and some shitty music would help. The club was relatively new, with walls that were completely black with zero decorations. It was supposed to be ‘minimalist’ or something. Till fucking hated it. He took a seat, ordered the cheapest thing on the menu, and prepared to spend the rest of the night gazing into the bottom of a cup.
That was until he heard it—the most beautiful voice in the history of beautiful voices. Well, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but after a few drinks it had certainly sounded like it.
Till finally turned around and instantly noticed her. She looked so out of place, bright pink hair and everything, like something out of a movie. Till could’ve sworn she was glowing. The music was fine, but, god, her voice. It was the only thing he could focus on.
In the next few days, she quickly became the only thing Till could think about. He just wanted to experience that feeling again, of watching her perform. Of getting lost in her voice. He’d begun showing up to her gigs more than he turned up to class. He was addicted.
One night, after a few drinks, Till worked up the courage to approach her after one of her shows. He never did stuff like that; he barely even spoke to the students in his class.
She was sweet, bright, amazing—everything he’d dreamed of. They started talking about music, and ended up chatting for what felt like an eternity.
By the end of the night, they exchanged numbers, and Mizi the performer became Mizi the person. His friend.
Till had only ever used his phone to listen to music, or doomscroll on Twitter, or write down some idea that collected dust at the back of his notes app. Now, his only focus was messaging Mizi.
Maybe ‘messaging’ wasn’t the right word. More like obsessively scrolling through their texts and refreshing the page every two seconds to see if she’d responded. He’d tried to act as normal as possible, never replying immediately, never sending too many messages at once. But it was hard to restrain himself when Mizi would send messages like it was a full-time job.
In the next few months, Till had spent more time out of his room than ever before. Whenever Mizi told him about a new place she found, he’d instantly suggest they go together. He stopped giving a fuck about his classes, and the stress about upcoming due dates and projects just straight up disappeared.
Mizi had basically saved his life.
The door opens, shaking Till out of his stupor.
He looks up.
The man who walks in isn’t one of their regulars. He’s wearing a studded leather jacket, which matches his shiny jet-black hair. He has that relaxed, confident-without-realizing-it kind of vibe.
Till watches as the man approaches Luka, who’s busy sorting through records—as if that’s supposed to be even remotely helpful. The man starts talking, and Till can instantly tell he can sing; his voice is smooth, with a slight gritty roughness to it. Even while he speaks, he maintains an easy smile.
Luka points back at Till, and the man looks over at him.
Till snaps his head away, focusing his attention to the turntable on the counter. Stop staring, you’re being weird.
Till hears the man thank Luka for something, and then he hears footsteps. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the man making his way over to the register.
Fuck, you’ve just made it weird.
“Hey.”
Till looks up, trying to act normal. “Oh, hi.”
The man is leaning against the counter with that same easy grin on his face. His eyes are a deep black, and one of his teeth is pointed, almost like a fang. “I heard you own the place?”
“Yeah.” Till nods. “That’s me.” He hates that he’s already nervous. People who are naturally cool just set him on edge.
“Cool,” the man replies. “I’m not looking for a record or anything, but…this spot’s pretty sweet.”
“Oh, uh…yeah.” Till scratches the back of his head. “I’m, um… glad you like it.”
The man nods at him. “You seem pretty cool, too.”
Till isn’t quite sure what to say to that. “Uh…thanks.”
The man’s lips curl upwards into another grin.
Till clears his throat uncomfortably. “Do you, uh…need anything?”
“Yeah, actually,” the man points behind him, towards the glass door where he walked in, “Would you mind if my band hung up a poster or two on the glass? We saw some pretty sick events up there already.”
“Uh…” Till hesitates.
The posters he hangs up outside the shop aren’t exactly random events. Mizi likes to call it ‘the hall of fame’, as all three of them put up their own posters of whatever they’re obsessing over at the time.
“Are you any good?” Till asks before his mind can compute what to say.
…
Fuck.
Till grimaces.
The man seems to take it well though; he laughs it off easily. “I sure hope so. You should come to one of our shows and see for yourself.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, we have one coming up,” the man says. “If you give me your number, I can send you the details?”
Till gawks at him. “My…number?”
“Uh huh.” The man nods enthusiastically.
“Okay, I’ll, uh…get my phone.”
Till searches his pockets, but they're empty. Did he leave it on the counter? He’s never really needed to use his phone that often, so it had the tendency to go missing.
“I’m Ivan, by the way,” the man introduces himself.
Till pauses, meeting Ivan’s eyes. “Till.”
Ivan has a glint in his eye. “Nice to meet you, Till.”
As he and Mizi spent more time together, something had changed in her.
Till slowly realized she was a lot more like him than he’d originally thought. Especially once the drinks kicked in, and she would start ranting about hating everyone and her lifelong desire to set her parents’ house on fire. She was still that same bright person, but Till had discovered a much darker side of her.
Her bubbly messages slowed to a crawl, too. Their conversations no longer ended at music and nightclubs, and Till was surprised how often their chats devolved into vivid discussions of death and…aliens, for some reason. Mizi loved aliens.
Not that Till had minded. If anything, he’d seen it as her getting closer to him.
Still, he was too scared to ask her anything. He’d tried, he really did, multiple times. Especially when the alcohol had him feeling brave. But no matter how hard he tried, the words just refused to leave his mouth.
And then, one night, it happened.
Mizi seemed particularly taken by the bartender that night—the girl was quiet, with short black hair, and a face that read ‘DO NOT APPROACH’, although Mizi clearly didn’t get that message. Instead, she’d decided she was intent on getting the girl’s number.
Till had seen her do this kind of thing before, but never so blatantly. He’d never really considered that Mizi was flirting with the girls she talked to — he’d thought she was just like that. And if anything, maybe she was bi?
But as he watched Mizi, slurring her words, calling the short haired girl ‘the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen’ for the third time in a row, he began to realize that Mizi never did this to guys.
In retrospect, he should’ve taken the hint that she was more interested in the bartender anyway, but there was a horrifying realization that settled in his stomach.
Till had tried his best to calm himself. He’d waited until the girl behind the bar was busy serving someone else, and Mizi was occupied with the glass in her hand. He’d taken a second to summon the right words.
“Are you gay?” he’d asked. Casual, normal, a throwaway question. Honestly, he barely even cared about the answer.
Mizi had looked at him, her face morphing into a quizzical expression.
She regarded him for a few moments, and Till’s breath had caught in his throat. There had probably been some stupid sliver of hope left in him at that moment.
“Yeah, duh,” she’d laughed. “Did I not tell you?”
And that was it. Seven words. Seven words that split Till’s heart in half.
“Till…Till!”
Till shakes himself. “Hm? What?”
Mizi jerks her head behind her, her eyes wide. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” she hisses.
Till’s eyes trail across the room.
It’s Luka. He’s talking to someone — a woman.
Till squints. A beautiful woman. “Holy shit.”
“Right?” Mizi sputters. She looks genuinely distressed. “Do we do something?”
Till glances at her, alarmed. “Do what?”
“I don’t know, do I save her?!”
“Uh…”
“Luka’s talking to a customer, Till. He’s literally doing his job.” Mizi looks incredulous. “Something’s obviously wrong. He’s coming onto her, the poor woman.”
Till glances back over. The woman’s laughing at something Luka said.
“Oh god,” Mizi says. “I have to do something.”
“I mean, she seems to like him.”
“Yeah, because she’s known him for like one whole minute,” Mizi retorts. “How does a creature like Luka even attract a woman like that?”
Till chuckles at that.
Ding!
Mizi reaches for her phone, glancing at the lock screen. She furrows her eyebrows, looking up at Till. “Was that yours?”
Ding!
“Mine?” Till looks down at his phone, which is lying face down on the counter. “I don’t think so.”
He grabs it anyway, checking the lock screen.
He blinks. There’s two messages from Ivan.
“What?” Mizi frowns. “You never get messages.”
“Yeah, uh…”
Ding!
Another one.
Mizi leans forward, trying to peek at his screen. “Who is it?”
Till swipes up, opening Ivan’s messages. “Poster guy, he was here the other day.”
Mizi frowns. “Poster guy? How does he have your number?”
Till shrugs. “I gave it to him.”
He reads through the messages.
Ivan poster guy
Hey :)
This is till right?
I was wondering if u wanted to meet tmr? Idk if u have a lunch break or smth
It’s not exactly what Till was expecting as an initial text. He clicks the message bubble and begins typing.
Me
?
meet for what?
Ivan poster guy
I said id give u details abt the show right?
Me
oh i thought u were js gonna text me them
Ivan poster guy
Well that would b boring
Besides i wanna get to know u
U seem chill :)
Me
ur a bit weird
but if u rly want to u can come over tmr anytime
im free whenever
Ivan poster guy
😎😎
Till puts his phone down. Strange guy.
Mizi has an odd expression on her face.
Till meets her gaze. “What?”
Mizi simpers, shaking her head. “No, nothing.”
Over by the records, Luka’s still talking to the woman.
“I’m Hyuna,” she says.
“A lovely name for a lovely lady,” Luka replies dramatically.
Till feels his stomach churn.
“No, no, no.” Mizi shakes her head, horrified. “I can’t let this go any further.” She starts walking over to them.
“Mizi, wait!” Till hisses.
After that night with Mizi, Till rotted in his room for days on end. He didn’t go to class, he didn’t go outside, he could barely get out of bed.
He couldn’t even bring himself to text Mizi back.
The world just felt like it was crashing down around him. He didn’t have anything to look forward to anymore, everything had turned into a senseless blur.
It reached a point where Till felt like he was just…floating. He’d lost track of the days, spending most of his time staring at the wall until he fell asleep. He knew he needed to get off his ass and just do something, but he’d lost all capacity to give a fuck.
It was pathetic.
Everyday, his phone would start going off. He ignored the messages, trying to pretend they weren’t there.
Till never even shed a single tear; his body had just felt completely hollowed out, empty.
Mizi had been the only thing on his mind during that time, which he’d hated. He hated that he was still thinking about her like that. He hated himself for even having the stupid crush in the first place.
Sometimes he would bury his face into his pillow, hoping it would just swallow him up.
“You’re still mad, aren’t you?” Mizi asks.
“I told you not to talk to me,” Luka retorts coldly.
Mizi rolls her eyes. “Fine, keep sulking then.”
Luka’s shoulders bristle. “The fuck did you just say?”
Please, not again.
“What?” Mizi defends. “I literally just told her the truth, how are you gonna be mad at that?”
“Are you serious?” Luka asks incredulously. “You called me a misogynistic pervert!”
Mizi shrugs. “And?”
“And Hyuna will probably never want to fucking talk to me ever again!”
“Good for her,” Mizi says simply.
Luka’s fuming. “You’re just mad that a girl's finally interested in me.”
Mizi laughed. “Oh, I’m mad, am I?”
“Yeah, Mizi, you’re a fucking psycho! I swear you just wanna ruin every good thing that happens to me!”
Till tries his best to tune them out; he knows they’re gonna be at it for a while.
He glances at Sua. Her head is down. She’s sifting through records as if everything is completely normal.
She suddenly realizes Till is looking at her, and her head tilts upwards to meet his gaze.
“Hi,” he greets awkwardly.
Her eyes narrow. “What?”
Till shakes his head. “Uh, nothing. I just thought I’d say hello.”
“Why?” Sua asks.
“I don’t know, it’s kinda like…basic human behaviour.”
Sua shoots him a side eye, before going back to sorting through records.
Good chat.
Luka and Mizi are still yelling at each other.
Till stares off into the distance. It’s just one of those days.
Suddenly, the door opens. He doesn’t want to imagine the customer's face when they walk into the mess unfolding in the middle of the store. Till glances up.
Jet-black hair, jet-black eyes, same jet-black jacket. It’s Ivan.
His face lights up when he sees Till, and he starts waving.
Oh, right. We made plans.
Mizi and Luka’s argument is getting more grating by the minute, and Ivan is Till’s clear escape. This can only be divine intervention.
Tills exits behind the counter, hurrying over to Ivan. He tries not to walk too quickly, but at this point he’s desperate to get as far away from Mizi and Luka as humanly possible.
Till stops in front of Ivan. “Hi.”
“Hey,” Ivan says distantly, distracted by the fight. “What’s with the, uh…?”
“Ignore that.” Till grimaces. “Can we go outside? I need to get out of here.”
Ivan shrugs. “Sure.”
mizi
heyy
wanna hang soon?
i found this rly cute place i think you’d like it
hello?
earth to till???
r u there??
text me pls
srsly
ok im a bit worried
is everything ok?????
till ur freaking me out
did smth happen?
till pls reply
A week passed before Till finally had enough of being a coward, and he’d decided to open Mizi’s texts. His eyes had widened as he’d realized just how much she’d been texting him. He felt a stab of guilt.
Me
im fine
im sorry for not texting
mizi
OH MY GOD
TILL
i literally thought u died wtf?!?!
y havent u been texting???
ive been so worried omfg
dont do that again
im going to ur dorm rn
Me
u dont need to do that
Mizi clearly hadn’t gotten the last message, because she’d appeared at Till’s door a few minutes later. When he heard the knocks at the door, he buried his face in his hands. How the fuck was he supposed to just act normal after all that? He took a few deep breaths before opening the door, feeling his heart drop into his throat.
Mizi was standing in the doorway. She looked him up and down.
Till had suddenly felt very self-conscious. “Sorry, I probably look pretty shit right now.”
Mizi just threw herself forward and hugged him, and Till stumbled back. They’d never hugged before. He was too shocked to even reciprocate the embrace.
Mizi had stepped back and grabbed his shoulders. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” she’d exclaimed. “I texted you every day and you said nothing!”
Till grimaced, ashamed. “I’m sorry,” he’d said quietly. Even seeing her face had made his heart hurt.
“You have a lot of explaining to do,” Mizi scolded. She picked up some plastic bags that she had left by the door and shoved them forwards. “I brought food, ‘cause I knew you wouldn’t be eating properly, and also we’re gonna clean this fucking mess of a room behind you.”
And to think, just a few days earlier, his heart would’ve soared at those words. Now he just felt like an empty husk.
Till tried his best to form a smile.
Till walks idly along the pavement beside Ivan, his eyes glued to his shoes. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. He could already feel the awkwardness clutching at his throat.
“Wanna do anything?” Ivan asks.
Till looks up. “Huh?”
“I dunno, get food or something?”
Till shrugs, not knowing what to say. “Uh…maybe.”
Ivan raises his eyebrows. “Or we can just walk around aimlessly.”
Till winces. “Sorry.”
“For what?” Ivan tilts his head.
“I don’t know, I’m just not very good at… talking.”
Ivan shrugs, grinning. “I don’t mind. I think it’s kinda cute.”
…Cute?
“Oh, uh…thanks?”
Ivan stops in his tracks suddenly.
Till pauses, glancing at him. “Why are we stopping?”
Ivan points across the road. “See that?”
Till follows his gaze. He’s taken aback—it’s the same place where he first saw Mizi.
He’d subconsciously avoided going to this part of town, and eventually he’d just forgotten about the club entirely. It’s odd seeing the place again after so long, like remembering an old dream.
“That’s where our show is,” Ivan says. “Eight o’clock this Sunday.”
“Oh, right.”
Ivan glances at him. “Will I see you there?”
“So I can see if you’re good enough to hang your poster outside my store?”
Ivan's lips quirked. “Sure.”
Till surveys the building for a bit longer. He has an inexplicable urge to mess with him. “I dunno. I’ll see if I can be bothered.”
“Sheesh,” Ivan huffs theatrically. “Okay, I see how it is.”
Till shrugs. “It’s just hard ‘cause I’m always so busy, you know?”
“You’re a hot commodity, huh?”
“Yup, that’s me.”
“I guess I’ll have to rephrase my question then.” Ivan clears his throat, doing a dramatic bow. “Will you be so kind as to grace us with your esteemed presence, O Great One?”
Till can feel the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Well, since you asked so nicely.”
Ivan closes his eyes, pumping his fist in the air like an idiot, and Till rolls his eyes. The man acts like a TV character.
The atmosphere has gotten a lot more relaxed now. Till feels strangely comfortable, considering he’s only met Ivan twice. They keep walking down the street.
“What made you open a record shop?” Ivan asks suddenly.
Till looks at him. “Why do you wanna know?”
Ivan shrugs. “Just curious.”
“Well, um… I was in art school for a while.”
“Cool!”
“No,” Till grumbles. “It was awful, and I hated every second of it.”
Ivan winces. “Oh.”
“Then I kind of just… stopped showing up to class. I was just tired of, like, hating my life I guess. I didn’t know what to do with with myself.”
Ivan’s staring at him intently, hanging on to every word.
“But my friend, Mizi—well, my only friend—she kind of forced me to get my shit together, and said I needed a big project to dedicate myself to.”
“Like a shop?”
“Yeah. I mean, she didn’t specifically say that, but the only other thing I gave a fuck about was music and records and stuff like that, so.”
Ivan frowns. “What about art?”
Till shivers. “Ugh, no. Drawing is just a free time thing for me. That’s the only good thing art school taught me.”
“Ah, okay. I get that.”
“Yeah.”
“So are you happier now?”
“I think so.” Till shrugs. “It can be rough sometimes, but I figure it can’t get much worse than school.”
Ivan chuckles.
Till suddenly realizes he’s been talking about himself the whole time. “Uh, why’d you join a band?” Till blurts.
Ivan shrugs. “I dunno. Seemed fun.”
Till blinks. “Is that it?”
Ivan's lips curl upwards. “Yeah, kind of. We all met in high school. I was a bit of a theatre kid, actually.”
“That explains a lot.”
“I’m gonna let that comment pass. But whenever I didn’t have a musical to rehearse for, I was just so bored. I needed something to do. And a band seemed like a good idea.”
“What did you call the band?”
“ANAKT GARDEN,” Ivan announces theatrically. “Cool, right?”
“What does it mean?”
Ivan looks at him blankly. “Uh, it stands for… A New… Amazing… Kickass… Thing.”
Till can’t help but smile. “So it doesn’t mean anything?”
“Nah,” Ivan replies, “I thought it sounded nice, so I went with it.” He nudges Till lightly. “How about your shop? What does the name mean?”
Till’s smile falters slightly. “Oh, um… yeah, same as you.”
Ivan raises his eyebrow. “Huh. We’re pretty similar, aren’t we?”
Till avoids his eyes. “I guess so.”
“ALIENSTAR,” Mizi exclaimed. “That’s what my band will be called.”
Till smiled into his cup.
“Cool, right?” Mizi grinned broadly. “And check this out—our concerts would be called ALIEN STAGES.”
“Not bad.”
“Right?!”
Till couldn’t even remember when that exchange had happened. All he knew was that it’d stuck with him. It was one of those moments that just sticks in your brain and you don't know why. He wasn’t even sure if Mizi remembered it, or if she’d ever start a band called ALIENSTAR, but he had never forgotten it.
Several months later, when Till was sitting around idly and thinking about what to call his new record store, the moment kept popping into head. Or maybe he just couldn’t stop thinking about Mizi.
Either way, the word ‘ALIENSTAR’ had ended up printed on the document in wet black ink.
Till stared at his own writing. ‘ALIENSTAR Records’ didn’t have a bad ring to it.
He shook himself. That was Mizi’s name idea, no matter how drunk she was when she came up with it, and naming his shop after it would be weird. Wouldn’t it?
And Mizi would immediately know what it was, and then she would know that Till has a collection of barely-significant memories of her stored in the back of his mind.
Till sat there for a moment longer, examining the name. Nothing else was coming to mind.
He decided to scribble out what he wrote. Above it, he wrote ‘ALNST Records’ with his pen. More subtle, right?
Once ALNST Records had officially opened, Mizi and Till decided to celebrate with a random bottle Mizi had found in the back of her fridge.That was when she had asked the dreaded question: “What does the name mean?”
Till’s heart skipped a beat. “Hm?”
“The name. ALNST.”
“Um, well…” Till hesitated. He’d contemplated telling her, but in the moment it seemed like the wrong thing to say. “Nothing really.”
Mizi raised her eyebrows. “You made an acronym that means nothing? And you named your business after it?”
Till shrugged, playing it off. “Yeah, pretty much.” He didn’t meet her eyes. Had he been caught? Did she know?
Eventually, Mizi just raised her glass. “You know what, I’ll drink to that.”
She clinked it with Till’s cup and poured the rest of its contents into her mouth.
Till took another nervous sip.
“Good morning,” Luka greets as he walks in. He’s wearing a hoodie instead of his used loose white shirt.
Mizi glances up at him, narrowing her eyes.
“Hi,” Till replies uncertainly. Since when did Luka say good morning?
He’s acting differently this morning. His movements are slower, less self-assured, and his hair is devoid of any hair products. Till suddenly wonders if Luka has a twin he never told them about.
Mizi looks at Luka expectantly, waiting for him to say something. Till tenses.
A few seconds go by. Nothing. Luka’s acting way too normal.
Mizi clears her throat.
Luka looks up. “You good?”
Till and Mizi stare at Luka, bewildered.
Luka’s gaze flits between the two. “What?”
“Who are you?” Mizi asks.
Luka shoots her a side glance, before walking over to the counter and dropping his bag on the floor.
Mizi approaches slowly. “Are you having an extra good day or something?”
Luka shrugs. “Something like that.”
Till looks him up and down skeptically. Surely this isn’t the same Luka. It somehow feels more uncomfortable now that he isn’t arguing with Mizi.
Luka leans down to get something out of his bag, and his collar shifts down slightly.
Mizi peeks down, snagging her finger under the side of Luka’s collar and pulling it down further.
Luka immediately smacks her hand away, jumping to his feet. He gawks at Mizi in disbelief. “The fuck?”
“Is that what I think it is?” Mizi asks, snickering.
“Fuck off,” Luka grumbles. He rubs the mark on his neck.
Till can’t help but ogle at it.
“Now I get it,” says Mizi. “Whoever she was must’ve done a number on you last night, huh?”
“You’re such a loser,” Luka retorts, his cheeks are a light shade of pink.
“Tell us about her.”
Luka scoffs. “Why do you care?”
Mizi shrugs. “I mean, if she can change you, then she must be capable of witchcraft.”
Luka glares at her. “If you must know, her name’s Hyuna.”
It takes Till a moment to process what Luka just said.
Mizi visibly falters, as well. “What… her? From the shop?!”
“Yeah, her.” Luka suddenly looks satisfied with himself. “Guess your little sabotage didn’t work.”
Mizi leers at him. “Damn. She must’ve dickmatized you or something.”
“What the fuck?” Luka glared. “Mizi, you’re literally so fucking weird…” he stops himself. “You know what, I don’t have the energy for your bullshit right now.”
Luka spins on his heel.
“See? You won’t even argue back with me!” Mizi calls, following him.
And just like that, everything seems to go back to normal.
Ding!
Till glances down, there’s only one person that could be. He flips his phone over.
Ivan poster guy
U free tdy?
Me
huh when
Ivan poster guy
Like tn
After ur shop closes
:)
Me
sure
why?
Ivan poster guy
Y not?
“Can I ask you something?”
“Yeah?”
Mizi gulped. “Well, I kind of asked Sua if we were a thing yesterday.”
Till made sure to keep his face neutral. “Oh?”
Mizi rested her chin on her arms, leaning on the counter. “She looked up at me and was like ‘what do you think?’ and then looked away again… like, what is that supposed to mean?”
“Um…how did she say it?”
“Like…” Mizi cleared her throat. “‘What do you think?’”
“Uh, well, she is kinda like that.”
Mizi slumped down. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Is she still talking to you?”
“Yeah.”
“And you’re still going on dates?”
“Yeah, we have one next Saturday.”
“Right,” Till said. “So there’s your answer.”
“That’s not an answer,” Mizi argued. “What if she thinks they’re friend dates?”
“I thought you said she kissed you.”
“Yeah, but on the cheek.”
Till turned away. His heart was already sinking, and he was trying as hard as he could to ignore it. “You can be really dense sometimes.”
There was a beat of silence.
“She said that too,” Mizi grumbled.
Then, the bell above the door chimed, signalling an entry. Till glanced up and Mizi swiveled around.
“Uh, hi.” The man’s blond hair was covering his face slightly. “You hiring?”
Mizi switched on her bright smile. “Yes! Do you have a résumé?”
“Yeah.” He reached into his bag and took out a piece of paper.
“Awesome!” Mizi waltzed over and took it out of his hand. “I’m Mizi, that’s Till.” She’d pointed at Till, who waved awkwardly.
The man nodded in response. “I’m Luka.”
“You are a god warrior,” Mizi swears. “Seriously, you performed some kind of magic on him. He was actually bearable today.”
Luka shoots her the dirtiest glare Till has ever seen.
Hyuna laughs, wrapping her toned arms around Luka’s waist and pulling him closer. “There’s some goodness buried in there. You just have to dig a bit deeper.”
Mizi giggles. “Oh, I’m sure.”
Luka goes red. “Okay, I think it’s time to go.”
Hyuna giggles, kissing his cheek, before returning her attention back to Mizi. “It was lovely to meet you again— Mizi, was it?”
Mizi nods, smiling. “See you later!” she sing-songs, waving them goodbye.
Luka drags Hyuna towards the door, clearly trying to separate the two women as quickly as possible.
Once they leave, Mizi lets out a heavy sigh. “She’s amazing.”
“Tell me about it,” Till agrees. He grabs the keys from the countertop and makes for the door.
“I swear, Luka must’ve done something right in his past life.” Mizi shakes her head.
Till smiles, opening the door, and Mizi follows behind him.
Leaving the store feels like plunging into an icebath. The wind hits Till’s face so hard that he winces. Mizi’s already shivering. Till fumbles with the keys, fitting them into the lock and twisting it. The door locks with a satisfying click.
Mizi rubs her hands together. “Oh my god, it’s so fucking cold.”
Till shoves his hands into a pocket. Why the fuck didn’t he bring a jacket?
“Hey, me and Sua are going out tonight,” says Mizi. “Wanna come?”
Till shakes his head. “First of all, Sua would absolutely hate that.”
“Pfft!” Mizi replies. “She loves you.”
“She hates my guts,” Till corrects. “And also I already have plans.”
Mizi’s eyes widen. “Oh?”
“Yeah.”
“Another date, huh?”
Till blinks. “Date?”
Mizi smirks. “I knew it.”
“Wait, what do you mean?” Till asks, confused.
Mizi doesn’t answer, instead glancing behind him. Her eyes light up. “Speak of the devil.”
Till hears footsteps running up behind him. He turns around.
It’s Ivan. He’s shielding his face against the wind, but Till can still tell it’s him. The man practically crashes into Till, grabbing his shoulders to stabilize himself. “Whew!” Ivan pants. “It’s freezing!”
Mizi beams. “Hi!”
Ivan looks up at her. “Oh wait, you’re Mizi, right?”
“Yup, and you’re Ivan the poster guy.”
Ivan grins. “Till talks about you a lot, it’s cool to meet you!”
“You too! I swear, every time I look at Till, he’s on his phone texting you.”
Ivan laughs.
“That’s not true,” Till grumbles.
“Anyway, I gotta go,” Mizi says quickly. “You guys have fun!”
Ivan waves. “See you around!”
Mizi waves back, before spinning on her heel and hurrying off.
Ivan scans Till’s body. He frowns. “Why are you only wearing a shirt?”
“Uh, I, um…” Till falters.
Ivan doesn’t hesitate, quickly shrugging off his jacket.
Till shakes his head, stepping back. “No, no, I don’t need it.”
“Yes you do,” Ivan insists. “You’re shivering.”
“What about you?!”
Ivan shakes his head. “I’m made of steel. I’m basically invincible.”
“I can see your goosebumps.”
Ivan rolls his eyes. “Always worrying.”
Ivan moves closer, throwing the jacket around Till’s shoulders. Till thinks about protesting, but he quickly realizes it’s useless. Ivan grabs Till by the shoulders, and they start walking down the street.
“Where are we going?” Till asks.
“Uh…” Ivan trails off. “Anywhere you want.”
Till stares at him.
Ivan’s grinning at him again. The kind of grin where his whole face lights up.
Till has to force himself to look away. He can feel his cheeks warming.
Even as they’re walking, he can’t get Mizi’s words out of his head. “Another date, huh?” What was that supposed to mean? Some sort of joke?
“You good?” Ivan asks.
Till glances at him. “Uh, yeah…yeah, everything's fine”
“Wanna come?” Mizi asked, her hand intertwined with Sua’s.
Sua turned to her, surprised.
Till shook his head. “Um, no… I don’t want to intrude.”
“Please?” Mizi begged. “It’s really fun, you’ll like it.”
“Uh…”
“Mizi,” Sua said bluntly. “He doesn’t want to come.”
Mizi opened her mouth to protest. “But—”
“Come on,” she tugged Mizi’s hand. “We have to go now.”
Mizi looked at Till. “Are you sure? You wouldn’t be intruding or anything, I promise.”
Sua bristles wordlessly.
Till shook his head. “N-no, I’m all good.”
Mizi sighed. “Ugh, fine then. I’ll see you soon!”
Till nodded. “Hope you guys have fun.”
Mizi flashed a smile, but Sua sent him a strange look. She then proceeded to drag Mizi out of the store.
“Bye!” Mizi called over her shoulder as the two made their way out the door.
“Bye.”
Ivan holds the door open, and Tills walks out. The warmth of the restaurant disappears behind him, and he is attacked by an icy blast of wind. He shoves his hands into his pockets while Ivan comes out to join him.
“You shouldn’t have paid,” Till scolds.
Ivan grins. “My hand slipped.”
Till rolls his eyes.
Ivan feeds his arm through Till’s, huddling closer.
Till narrows his eyes. “I thought you weren’t cold.”
“Hah, I’m not,” Ivan replies through blatantly chattering teeth.
“Seriously, you can have your jacket back, I don’t need it.”
Ivan shakes his head. “Made of steel, remember?”
Till scowls. “You’re gonna freeze.”
Ivan shakes his head. “Uh-uh.”
Till groans, giving up.
They walk in silence for a while. It’s pitch black outside now, and the chill is picking up even more.
Having Ivan’s arm intertwined in his feels weird. It almost feels too normal. Till glances at Ivan, but his eyes are sealed shut, as if that was going to protect him from the wind. Till feels a twinge of something he can’t quite place.
“I should probably get back home,” says Till.
Ivan looks at him. “Already?”
“Ivan, it's like midnight right now.”
Ivan huffs, but concedes. “Fine, where do you live? I can walk you.”
“I live at the store,” Till admits. “In the back of the office.”
“Oh, right,” says Ivan. “Well, time to go.”
“I can probably get there by myself,” Till replies.
Ivan shakes his head. “No way, it’s too dark.”
“Ivan…”
Ivan tugs his arm. “C’mon, let’s go.”
“Ivan, wait.” Till pulls his arm back.
Ivan stops. He unthreads his arm and turns to face Till.
Till lets out a quick breath.
“Yeah?” Ivan asks. His voice is softer than usual.
“Uh…” Till tries to remember what he wants to say. He’s distracted by Ivan’s eyes.
What?
Ivan’s gazing at him expectantly.
“I-I, um…”
“What?”
Mizi’s words swirl around in his head again. They are just friends, right?
Ivan’s black eyes feel like they’re piercing Till’s soul.
Why have they been hanging out so much? Why is Ivan so nice to him?
He can feel Ivan’s breath on his face.
Because Ivan’s just like that, that’s why. He’s witty and funny and charming and stupid and annoying. He’s like that with everyone. But why can Till feel his heart thumping out of his chest?
Ivan’s face is suddenly way too close, and Till feels a stab of panic.
“I like girls,” he blurts.
…
Ivan’s face is unreadable. Till takes a shaky breath.
“You like girls,” Ivan repeats.
Till nods slowly.
“You mean you’re straight?”
“Yeah,” Till stammers.
There’s an unbearable silence.
Something changes in Ivan’s eyes.
For a horrifying moment, Tills thinks he’s misread the situation. Maybe they really were just hanging out. Maybe Mizi was just joking. Maybe he was just blind and stupid and selfish.
Then Ivan’s lips pull into a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Cool.”
Till feels his heart sink.
“We should go,” says Ivan. “It’s getting colder.” He faces away from Till, and starts walking down the street.
Till watches as he walks away. He should feel relieved, but he doesn’t. For some reason, he feels like he’s just fucked everything up.
Till knows what he saw in Ivan’s eyes now. He knows because he sees himself in those eyes. He knows because he’s felt everything that Ivan is feeling.
That moment at the bar, with Mizi. The night where she’d gotten way too drunk. The night Sua was working behind the bar, rolling her eyes as Mizi threw out cheesy one-liner after cheesy one-liner. The night Till’s heart had broken in two.
Ivan glances over his shoulder, a few steps away. “Coming?”
Till stares after him. He can feel his stomach twisting. Ivan’s eyes just look so… empty.
“Yeah… coming.”
“Why don’t you ever date?” Luka had asked.
Till blinked. “What?”
“You don’t date,” Luka repeated.
“I’m, um… I’m not really into that stuff.”
“Bullshit,” Luka replied. “You have that look in your eyes.”
Till frowned. “What?”
“You ever notice the looks you get?” Luka asked.
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re pretty slow, Till,” Luka said. “Even I can notice that shit.” He stacked one of the boxes from the backroom. “And sometimes people will just straight up flirt with you, and you act like nothing’s happening.”
Till ogled at him in disbelief. “You’re joking, right?”
Luka had just scoffed.
“So…” Mizi’s eyes twinkle. “How’d it go?”
“Fine.” Till shrugs.
“Fine?” Mizi echoes. “Can you give me some more details?”
“We went to eat, and then we went home,” Till replies, his voice thin.
Mizi’s eyebrows knit together.
“What?” Till retorts. “Nothing happened, it wasn’t a date.”
Mizi looks confused. “What do you mean?”
“Look, I really just don’t wanna fucking talk about it, okay?!”
Mizi recoils slightly, taken aback by the outburst.
Till lets out a heavy breath.
“Till…”
“What?!” Till snaps again.
Mizi hesitates for a moment. “Something happened, didn’t it?”
Till doesn’t answer.
“Why can’t you tell me?”
“Because…” Till stumbles. “It just… I…” He groans in frustration. “I don’t know!”
“Did he…” Mizi begins tentatively. “Did he do something?”
Till scratches his head. “Yeah, kind of, I guess.”
“Like, did he say anything?”
“I said I don’t want to talk about it.” Till averts his gaze. His mind is a whirlwind.
An awkward silence descends on them. Luka left early today, and the store feels emptier than usual.
“Till, can I ask you something?”
“No!” Till spins around. “I told you to stop talking about it!”
“It’s not about Ivan,” Mizi responds quietly.
Till falters.
“Well,” Mizi hesitates, “maybe a little bit, but…”
A sinking feeling settles in his chest.
“The thing is…Sua said something last night.”
“Huh?”
Mizi looks away. “I can’t remember what we were talking about, but… I remember bits. I was talking to her about you and Ivan and, um… I think I made some joke about a double date? It was something like that. But she seemed kinda…off?”
Where is this going?
“I asked her what was wrong. She denied it, obviously, but I kept asking. Then she said she was surprised that you guys were going out together. I asked what she meant and… well…” Mizi pauses.
“Yeah?” Till asks, a lump forming in his throat.
“She said this really weird thing. Like, I don’t even know how to say it, but… she said you… like me?”
There it was. Till’s greatest fear materializing out of thin fucking air.
Mizi’s eyes are burning into him. “That’s crazy, right?”
Till can feel his heart hammering in his chest, sending vibrations across his entire body. He knows that even if he opens his mouth, nothing will come out.
“Till? That’s crazy, right?” Mizi asks. “Say something. Tell me that it’s crazy.”
It is crazy. It’s crazy and horrifying and disgusting and wrong. And yet Till can’t even utter a single word. The panic grips his chest like an infection.
Mizi blinks, and Till immediately notices something change in her face. Realization, maybe. She looks so confused. She’s frowning, like she’s trying to wrap her head around something.
“Oh.” She says.
“Mizi…”
She’s looking at him like she doesn’t even recognize him. Like he’s a complete stranger. Like she’s only now just realized that she knows nothing about him.
“How long?” Her voice is strangely calm.
Till lowered his gaze. He can’t meet her eyes. His face is burning red. “I-I don’t know.”
Mizi is silent. “You never said anything.”
Till stares down at the counter, horrified.
“This whole time?”
“Mizi, it’s not like that—”
“I thought we were friends, Till.”
Till looks up, his eyes widening. “N-no… we are… I just… that was a mistake, it was stupid, I… I don’t…”
Mizi doesn’t even look sad. She just looks drained. “I just…I need to think.”
“Please,” Till begs quietly. “I don’t like you like that anymore, it… it was all just a dumb mistake.”
“You expect me to believe that?” Mizi laughs incredulously. “So now you’re telling the truth, huh?”
Till’s heart feels like it’s being crushed. Crushed by the weight of everything he never said, everything he thought he could keep locked away. Everything he thought had disappeared long ago. He opens his mouth but, again, nothing comes out.
Mizi scoffs, rolling her eyes. Then she shoves her hands in her pockets and turns away from him. Her pink hair looks dull in the moonlight.
Till watches helplessly as Mizi walks down the aisles of records. She opens the door, not even glancing behind her once as she leaves. There isn’t even a second of hesitation. The door just closes behind her, and that’s it.
His best friend, his only friend, just…gone.
Till remembers one particularly low moment in the midst of his Mizi heartbreak.
He’d just moved a mattress into his office space at the back of the shop, a temporary solution until he found a real bedframe. One night, he was just laying on the mattress, looking up at the ceiling, when he had the bright idea of opening Mizi’s instagram.
It was just pictures of her and Sua, obviously.
He’d vividly remembered lying sideways on the mattress, just endlessly scrolling. He wanted to stop, but his finger just kept moving. He wasn’t crying, but maybe that was even worse. He’d just glued his eyes to his phone, feeling the pit in his stomach grow deeper.
Even at the time, Till knew how pathetic it was.
As soon as he reached the end of Mizi’s posts, he realized what he’d just done. Till switched his phone off and just stared up at the ceiling, letting the shame wash over him.
He remembered thinking, is this what he was going to do with his life? Spend his nights wallowing in heartbreak over his best friend?
Till hadn’t been able to sleep that night. He’d tossed and turned, but all he’d been able to think about was Mizi. Then he’d try and forget about her, and the cycle would repeat.
This couldn’t be it. He couldn’t be stuck here forever. He had to get over her at some point.
Or was it all just impossible?
If Till could go back, he’d slap himself.
He’d tell himself to just admit everything to Mizi as soon as possible. It would be awkward, sure, but they would’ve gotten over it. Together.
He’d tell himself that just because she’s the most amazing person he’d ever met, doesn’t mean he was ever in love with her.
He’d tell himself that just because she was the first person to talk to him in years, didn’t mean they were somehow star-crossed lovers who were meant to be together.
He’d tell himself to leave the house and make some more fucking friends.
That last one was perhaps a little hypocrital, though, judging by the fact that he’s spent two days locked inside the back office with nothing but cans of cheap cider scattered around his mattress.
Till checks his phone. He’s called Mizi five times and Ivan three. Neither have responded.
It must be some record, he thinks, somehow managing to screw up two of your closest relationships in just two days. He giggles wryly into another cider can.
He checks his messages with Mizi.
Me
ik u dont want to talk to me rn and u dont have to talk to me ever again if u dont want to but i just wanted to say i fucked up
im so sorry mizi
can you call?
please
i rly just want to be friends again
No response. Obviously. He checks Ivan’s.
Me
hey
🩷i js wanted to check if ur good
i feel like we ended things weirdly
is it ok if we talk
Ivan has left a heart on one of his messages. Somehow it’s even worse than not responding.
Till puts his phone face-down against his mattress. Great. He reaches for the cider, cracking the top open. It’s not like he can be upset—he did this to himself. He takes a good sip.
The cider isn’t helping, but it sure feels like it is.
Till can feel himself starting to get dizzy, so he puts the can on the floor beside his bed. Then his head flops down into the mattress. He groans.
Till wishes time machines were real.
Till wakes up to the sound of knocking.
He pushes his body up off the mattress, and immediately regrets it as a wave of nausea hits him like a truck. He clutches his head, groaning softly. Is it…morning? Afternoon?
He hears two more knocks.
A fresh burst of hope fills Till as he hops off the bed. His head is aching, but he hurries over to the door anyway. Mizi? Till tentatively grabs the door handle, pushing it down. He pulls the door slowly towards him, peeking through the gap.
His heart immediately drops. “Oh, it’s you.”
Till opens the door fully, coming face to face with Sua. She looks him up and down. “You’ve been drinking.”
“Yeah.”
Sua nods awkwardly.
Till clears his throat. “What do you want?”
“I… want to talk.”
“About Mizi?”
Sua nods.
Till glances over his shoulder. The office is an absolute mess. “Uh, do you wanna come in, or…?”
“No,” she says quickly.
He blinks. “Yeah, okay. Good choice.”
Sua nods again. Till waits expectantly.
“Do you still like her?” Sua asks suddenly.
Till’s mildly shocked by her boldness, but at the same time he isn’t really that surprised. “No, I don’t.”
“Are you sure?” she asks, glowering at him.
“That was a long time ago.”
Sua crosses her arms. “And why didn’t you tell her sooner?”
“Would you have told her if you were me?”
“Of course.”
“Okay, well, bad example.”
Sua scowls at him.
“Look, I just… I didn’t want to lose her,” he confesses. “That's why.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why didn’t you want to lose her?”
Till pulls his mouth into a tight line. Why didn’t he want to lose her? Because she’s Mizi. Because she actually gives a fuck. Because she’s the only person Till opened himself up to in years.
Because she made his life worth living again.
Till sighs. “Because she’s my best friend.”
Sua is silent for a moment, considering something.
After a second, she looks over her shoulder and calls out, “Mizi!”
Till hears the sound of footsteps, and his stomach lurches. When Mizi finally appears from behind Sua, she doesn’t look sad, or happy, or anything, really. She just looks vacant.
“Do you need me to stay?” Sua asks.
Mizi smiles wearily. “No, I’m fine.” She kisses her on the cheek.
Sua casts one more look back at Till, before turning on her heel and walking away. Till and Mizi are left staring at each other.
Mizi clears her throat. “So…”
“I’m sorry,” Till bursts out. “About everything. I know I was creepy, and weird, and I knew you were never gonna like me back, it wasn’t like I was waiting for you not to be gay or something, like it really wasn’t anything like that. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about it, I just… I guess I just thought it was all over. Like it somehow didn’t matter anymore and we could just move on and I was so scared of losing you that I just kept putting it off until it was too late. But of course it was fucking weird not to tell you, I was just being really fucking stupid, Mizi, I’m so sorry.”
Mizi blinks.
Till’s surprised at himself. He’s panting slightly.
“Wow,” says Mizi. “I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard you talk.”
Till isn’t sure whether he should laugh at that. He just nods nervously.
There’s a brief moment of silence.
Till’s shoulders slump. “I’m assuming you don’t wanna talk to me again after this.”
Mizi looks incredulous. “Huh?”
Till looks up. “What?”
“You think I came all the way over here so we could have a friend break-up?”
“Uh...”
Mizi chuckles half-heartedly. “Okay, well… no, I don’t want that. I just… like, I think I might need a break from the store for a bit.”
Till’s eyes are wide. “O-okay, that’s… a lot better than I was expecting.”
“Yeah, well… I don’t know.” Mizi shrugs. “This whole thing has just been weird, Till. I need you to promise you won’t keep something like that from me again.”
Till nods, feeling the guilt creep back in. “Yeah, of course.”
“Promise,” Mizi repeats.
“I promise,” Till proclaims, “I’ll never keep anything from you ever again.”
Mizi tilts her head. “Okay, let me amend that a little bit. We don’t have to tell each other everything, but… maybe just the big things.”
Tills nods. “Okay then, just the big things.”
Mizi grins softly. “I, um…you know you’re still my best friend, right?”
Till winces. “Are you sure you still want that?”
“Yeah, of course I do,” Mizi replies. “You’re kinda the only person who understands me.”
Sua clears her throat loudly.
Mizi freezes. “Apart from my beautiful girlfriend, of course!”
Till can’t help but smile at that. He tries to hide his mouth with his hand.
“Um, yeah, anyway…” Mizi begins. “Actually, I forgot what I was saying. But, basically you’ll always be my best friend.”
Till nods happily.
Mizi steps forward and hugs him.
Till is sent off-balance, but he hugs her back anyway. She rarely ever hugged him. It doesn’t last too long, however, as Till notices the way Sua’s whole body goes tense, and he finds himself quickly pulling back from Mizi.
“I solemnly swear to never fall in love with you ever again,” Till promises.
Mizi chuckles. “Thanks, that would be nice.”
The silence is more comfortable now. Like things are slowly going back to normal.
“Well… now that we’re telling each other the big stuff…” Mizi scratches her head.
Till looks at her suspiciously. “What?”
“So… I think part of the shock was because I… kinda thought you were gay as well.”
“...Oh.”
“Yeah,” Mizi titters sheepishly. “Not to stereotype.”
Till hesitates. “Uh… why?”
“Dunno.” Mizi shrugs. “I shouldn't have assumed, sorry—that was weird of me.”
“But, like…” Till isn’t really sure what he wants to say. “Do you think I could be?”
Mizi frowns. “What do you mean?”
Till looks down. “Like… how would I know?”
“Well, um…”
Till can feel something fluttering in his stomach.
“I think it’s something you just… figure out,” Mizi says. “I don’t know, there’s not really a way to know, it’s just… there. It’s you. Y’know?”
Till glances up.
“I mean, in high school, I had this crush on a girl for like two whole years. Except I didn’t really know it was a crush, it kind of just became that. Like, I always thought she was so cool, but one day I was just like…‘Oh, I’m in love with her’.”
“And… you knew you didn’t like boys too?”
“Yeah, I don’t know how, but I just knew.” Mizi shivers. “Guys have always just grossed me out. No offense.”
Till gazes off into the distance. “So, you’re just supposed to know?”
“Kinda.”
“But what if I don’t know?”
Mizi sighs. “To be honest, Till, it really doesn’t matter.”
Till looks back at her. “What do you mean?”
“Like… sometimes there’s just that person,” Mizi explains. “Sometimes there’s just…love. I don’t think you need to know everything about yourself to love someone. Right?”
“But what if I’ve already fucked that up?” Till asks quietly.
“Then you fix it,” Mizi responds simply. “You go talk to him.”
“He doesn’t want to talk to me, Mizi.”
“Because you haven’t told him the truth.”
“But I don’t even know what the truth is.”
Mizi gives him a pointed look. “I think you know enough.”
It’s getting darker outside. Till had lost track of the days as they’d passed, maybe he’d also lost track of what time it was.
Suddenly, he freezes, a realization hitting him like a truck.
“What day is it?” he asks stiffly.
“Sunday,” Mizi replies. “Why?”
Till’s heart does a flip in his chest.
“Is something wrong?”
Till stammers, “I…I have to go.”
It’s been so long since Till has seen this club. He never really came in here after seeing Mizi. Honestly, looking back now, it was probably because it used to remind him of that fateful day.
But as soon as he stepped in, he didn’t feel any different—no horrible memories of ghosts long passed.
What was different, however, was the club itself. It’s clearly found itself a proper identity since it first opened. The walls are plastered with posters of artists Till had never even heard of, fake wall plants hang around the place, and LED lights line the entirety of the main room. Till even spots some graffiti here and there. The bland black walls were long gone.
The place actually has a pretty good energy now.
Till suddenly feels severely underdressed. He’d just thrown a jacket over the same shirt and tracksuit pants he’d been wearing for two–three days straight. It doesn’t help that some people in the crowd are wearing some of the coolest shit he’s ever seen.
The first thing Till notices is the empty stage. Only instruments and mic stands remain. He glances around nervously, his heart skipping several beats. Either he’s too early or too late.
He glances at his phone: 7:57.
Whew.
Till looks over at the bar, where the bartender is shaking up some kind of cocktail. Then he immediately looks away; the last thing he needs right now is more alcohol.
Suddenly, some figures walk out onto the stage. It’s hard to see them in the darkness.
“Ladies, gentleman, or whoever the fuck you are,” a voice calls out. “Our next performers are about to give you a show! Please give them a warm welcome!”
The crowd applauds as the stage slowly starts to light up. Till still can’t really see, he has to duck behind someone to get a proper view. Has he got the right date? Is this the right band?
Then he sees him.
Ivan’s standing front and center, the stand mic already in his hand. He’s wearing the same leather jacket, same everything. His hair looks different though—he’s used some product to make it look shinier. He has makeup on, too.
Ivan has that mesmerizing grin on his face. “Hey everyone, we’re ANAKT GARDEN.”
Till can’t look away.
Ivan glances back at his bandmates. “Right, let’s just get right into it, shall we?” He looks forward, clearing his throat. “This first one’s called Black Sorrow.”
The crowd lets out a small cheer.
The drums commence first. Then the electric guitar. The song is a lot slower than Till expected.
And then Ivan starts singing.
Till’s breath catches in his throat. Of course he’d already known Ivan could sing, but he never expected him to sound like… this.
There’s so much emotion in his voice, his body, his face, his energy. Ivan’s channeling his whole soul into the microphone. His face morphs with the emotion of the song.
Ivan’s voice trickles into Till’s ears, into his soul, filling his airways. It’s intoxicating. Till can feel everything Ivan’s voice wants him to feel.
It isn’t long before the song becomes background noise, and all Till can focus on his Ivan. He can’t take his eyes off him.
Ivan is just in the song. The music is flowing through him like blood.
It takes Till a while to realise the rest of the crowd is clapping and shouting. The song is already over. Ivan’s already smiling and chuckling, he looks completely different to the person he was a few seconds ago.
“I’m glad you enjoyed that,” Ivan says. “This next one’s called Nowhere.”
The music starts again, this time it begins with a sample.
This song is different from Black Sorrow, it’s less somber and has a bit more swing. Ivan’s voice is absolutely perfect for it. The honey-smooth grittiness of his tone melts through Till’s body.
Ivan sings as if he’s breathing—his body is relaxed, his voice jumping elegantly between each line. He makes everything look so easy.
The song ends, and the next one they play is called Paratise.
Till feels disorientated. He moves forward through the crowd as if in a trance, like he’s magnetized to Ivan.
This song’s darker, more haunting. Ivan’s voice feels like it’s crawling through Till’s skin. Ivan’s fully absorbed into the character, clinging to the mic as if he’s holding Till’s body. A small shiver travels down Till’s spine at the thought.
Before he knows it, the song is over, and everyone around him is erupting with applause.
“Thank you.” Ivan is panting softly into the microphone. “We’ve had a lot of fun tonight, so here’s one last song to end our night here.”
A few disappointed sounds arise from the audience, and Till feels strangely disconcerted. He doesn’t want this to end.
Ivan smiles. “I wrote this one about someone I met recently.”
Till freezes.
“This last one’s called Cure.” Ivan has an odd look on his face. “Enjoy.”
The next song begins, but Till can’t hear anything. All he can do is stare at Ivan.
Ivan’s eyes close slowly, and he starts singing again.
Someone blocks Till’s vision, and he ducks beneath them, getting even closer to the stage.
“Dissolve me in your gaze, I don’t want to let you go.”
Till remembers the first day Ivan walked into the store.
“Please, leave me scars. Please, hurt me so that not a single drop of me remains. Let me drown in you.”
He remembers Ivan’s relaxed grin as he leaned against the counter, how quickly he managed to get Till’s number.
“Until these falling stars are buried in the blur of time, on your icy lips.”
Till remembers how easy it was to talk to him, to spend time with him. How he’d felt like he’d known Ivan forever.
“Even if your cold words carve scars beneath my eyes, may they linger on your tongue.”
Ivan’s eyes open, and Till swears he’s looking right at him.
“Notice my pain and mend me right now. To quiet my fears, I'll drown in you.”
Till can’t breathe. He’s dizzy, and lightheaded, and everything is just way too fucking loud. And yet he’s rooted to the spot, unable to avert his eyes. He feels naked under Ivan’s gaze. Vulnerable.
“Sick of these nights to come. To be engulfed in silence, in your gaze, where I'm seen. Consume me.”
Till’s becoming increasingly aware of the people around him. How hot and cramped everything suddenly is.
“To this everlasting melody. Face to face, we dance, with our story lost in forever's embrace.”
Till’s mind is racing. A jumbled mess of everything washes over him like an icy current. Is he sweating? Ivan’s eyes are still locked onto him.
“Until these falling stars are buried in the blur of time—”
Till needs air. He needs to get out. He needs time to think.
He claws his way desperately to find the back of the venue. There are people clamoring and cheering and dancing, some even offer Till a drink, but he just walks right past them.
The dizziness is overtaking Till’s brain. He’s slowly suffocating in here.
When he finally spots the doors, he practically runs towards them. He uses his shoulders to force them open, stumbling out onto the street.
Till gasps, the cold air filling his lungs. The song is still playing, muffled through the doors. His back hits the wall, his chest rising and falling with each breath.
Till shuts his eyes. This whole thing was a mistake. Why did he think he could just turn up to Ivan’s show out of the blue like that? After days of radio silence? Now he just looks fucking creepy.
He grimaces, hitting his head lightly against the wall. Idiot. Idiot, idiot, idiot.
He just needs to get back to the store and forget this ever happened.
“Hey.”
Till’s whole body freezes.
Fuck.
Ivan’s standing by the entrance, looking at him.
Till pushes himself off the wall and quickly stands to face him. “Hi,” he chokes out.
There’s a moment of silence.
“You came,” says Ivan, slightly short of breath.
“Y-yeah.”
“I didn’t think you’d want to.”
Till winces. “I, um… I’m sorry, if you feel weird about it, I… I wasn’t like, stalking you or anything like that.”
Ivan has a small smile on his face. “No, it’s not weird, I just… I dunno. Thank you.”
Till blinks. “You’re not creeped out?”
“No, ‘course not.” Ivan clears his throat. “I’m glad you’re here. I was kinda hoping you would.”
“...Really?”
Ivan scratches his head. “Look, Till, about that night…I guess I wanted to say sorry.”
Till gawks at him. What?
“I mean, I really shouldn’t have just ghosted you like that. Especially after you… y’know, said the thing. That was really weird of me to just stop talking to you just because you didn’t see me like that. I get if you don’t want to be friends anymore after this but, I just thought… I don’t know, I thought I should say something before—”
“Wait, Ivan,” Till interrupts. “That’s not… that’s not right.”
Ivan pauses. “Huh?”
“You shouldn’t be apologising,” Till insists. “I’m the one who should be apologising. I was just so… blind to everything. I didn’t mean to, like… lead you on or anything.”
“No, no, you didn’t.” Ivan shakes his head. “You didn’t lead me on, that was all me. I just got everything so wrong, I… that was me. Not you.”
“Ivan—”
“I like you a lot, Till,” Ivan interrupts. “I know I messed up, but… I still want to be friends. If that’s okay.
Till looks up at him. “I like you too, Ivan.”
Ivan raises his eyebrows. “Yeah?”
Till nods. “Yeah.”
“So, uh…friends? Maybe?”
“Um.” Till scratches his neck. “I-I don’t know about that.”
“Oh.”
“No, that’s not… that’s not what I mean…” Till falters. God, he’s awful at this.
Ivan’s staring at him intensely, waiting for him to say something.
Till clears his throat. “I, uh…”
It’s useless, the words are refusing to come out. Why is this so fucking hard?!
Till glances nervously down at Ivan’s lips. There’s a stupid idea forming in the back of his head.
Ivan tilts his head. “Till?”
Fuck it.
Till reaches up, and kisses him.
It’s not a proper kiss, it’s just a chaste peck on the lips. It’s over in about two seconds.
Till steps back, surprised at his own boldness. He isn’t sure why he just did that.
“Oh,” Ivan says, shocked. “Uh…”
Till feels his cheeks go red.
Ivan’s mouth is agape. “I… thought you said you were straight?”
“Y-yeah, I did.”
Ivan tilts his head to the side. “Are you…?”
“I-I don’t really know anymore,” Till admits.
Ivan pauses. “What you said back there, about liking me…”
Till nods.
“Yeah?” Ivan asks.
Till gulps. “Yeah.”
There’s a moment of silence. Till’s heart is pounding in his chest. His breathing is so heavy that he can literally hear it. Ivan’s eyes travel down to his lips.
Then he pushes Till against the wall.
Till lets out a surprised noise, before their lips crash together.
Ivan’s lips are soft, but his mouth is pressing desperately into Till’s. His tongue brushes against his lips.
Till is making some extremely pitiful noises into Ivan’s mouth, but he doesn’t stop kissing him. His hands run through Till’s hair, pulling him closer.
Till can feel his body curving upwards into the warmth of Ivan’s body. He grabs onto Ivan’s waist in a desperate attempt to stabilize himself.
Ivan kisses him with a hunger that makes Till dizzy. Ivan’s body is pushing him further against the wall, and Till slides his hands around to Ivan’s back. He isn’t sure if he’s trying to keep himself standing, or if he’s trying to pull Ivan’s body even closer.
One of Ivan’s hands is on the small of Till’s back, disappearing under his shirt. Till lets out a small whimper into Ivan’s mouth.
It’s all too much—the warmth of his touch, the weight of his body, the wetness of his mouth… the rest of the world just melts away. Nothing else matters. Ivan might as well be the center of the fucking universe.
Till breaks away from the kiss, gasping for breath. “Ivan,” he pants shakily. He can’t form a proper sentence.
Ivan buries his face into the crook of Till’s neck, sucking softly on sensitive skin.
“Holy—” Till bites down on his tongue, his arms wrapping tighter against Ivan.
Ivan lets out a self-satisfied hum, the sound of it vibrating against Till’s neck.
Till’s fists tightens against Ivan’s jacket. Ivan plants one final kiss at the bottom of Till’s throat, before he looks up at him. There’s a placid look on Ivan’s face.
Till locks eyes with him, breathing shakily.
“Sorry,” Ivan says sheepishly. “I might’ve gotten a bit carried away.”
Till can’t respond.
Ivan gently strokes the top of Till’s head, his hands roaming through his hair. “Wanna get out of here?”
Till takes another unsteady breath, nodding slowly.
“Yeah?” Ivan’s practically beaming.
Till feels his ears go red. He probably looks like a pathetic mess right now. “Mhm,” he murmurs.
He tries to stand, but his legs won’t stop shaking. Ivan’s arms reach out, wrapping around Till’s back.
“Don’t worry.” Ivan’s voice is soft. “I’ve got you.”
Till lets Ivan haul him to his feet. He takes a moment to catch his breath. He tries to ignore how he’s clutching onto Ivan like a lifeline.
After his breath starts to even out, Till meets Ivan’s gaze.
“Ready?” Ivan asks.
“Yeah,” Till replies quietly.
Ivan presses another tender kiss against Till’s neck.
Till has never been much of a morning person—he usually just associates them with headaches and hangovers.
But… now?
Till watches as the sun floods through the windows, lighting up the interior of the store. It’s a beautiful sight, and not one that he gets to appreciate very often.
There’s an aura of pure calm that envelopes the record shop. The orange glow of the sun shines through the glass, warming Till’s skin. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt so at peace in his life.
The serenity is swiftly broken by the door swinging open and hitting the wall, shocking Till out of his stupor.
“Whew!” Mizi pants. “We’re home!”
Till freezes.
Luka follows soon after. “Ugh, next time you better warn me that we’re taking the same bus.”
“Sorry, I thought Hyuna was giving you a ride.” Mizi nudges him.
Till clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh… hi guys.”
“Sorry, sorry!” Mizi apologizes. “No fighting in the mornings, I know, I…” she falters, actually getting a proper look at Till. “Woah.”
Luka examines him. “You look…different.”
Till laughs awkwardly. “Oh, hah… I, um… I didn’t realize you were both getting here so early.”
Luka glances at Mizi. “Trust me, it was an accident.”
Mizi’s eyes narrow. “Why is your face like that?”
“Like what?” Till asks, keeping his voice calm.
“And why are you acting so odd?”
“Uh,” Till blanks. “I… don’t know what you mean.”
Luka knits his eyebrows. “Okay, dude, you’re freaking me out a little.”
“You’re hiding something,” Mizi accuses.
“I’m not!” Till defends. “If anything, you’re the ones being weird.”
Mizi and Luka glance at each other.
“Seriously, nothing’s wrong,” Till insists. “Can we please just get to work now?”
“Okay, geez.” Mizi furrows her eyebrows.
Luka frowns.
“Thank you,” says Till.
As quietly as he can manage, he sucks in a shaky breath. He’s in the clear, for now.
Then he hears it.
Creak.
Mizi and Luka hear it too, and they both glance down the hallway. It’s the door to the back office. Till’s whole body stiffens.
Then comes the footsteps, padding down the hall.
Mizi and Luka look startled.
“Oh…hey.”
Till can’t move. He doesn’t want to look.
Ivan yawns loudly behind him.
“Wait,” Luka says. “Is that—?”
“Yeah,” Mizi replies. Her face is slightly pale.
“I’m Ivan,” he greets. “I think we met before. Luka, right?”
Luka nods slowly. “Uh huh.”
Till feels his ears go red. The footsteps slowly get closer, until a very shirtless Ivan comes up behind him and wraps his arms around the front of Till’s waist. Ivan rests his chin on Till’s shoulder. “Good morning,” he murmurs.
“Morning,” Till replies stiffly.
Ivan grins lazily. “Just wondering if you were coming back to bed?”
Luka splutters. The heat spreads throughout Till’s entire face. “Uh…no.”
“You sure?” Ivan asks. “It’s pretty cold without you.”
Mizi suddenly seems very interested in the pile of records next to her.
“Yeah,” Till stammers. “Pretty sure.”
“Mmh,” Ivan murmurs. He nestles his face into Till’s neck.
Till’s pretty sure his whole face is burning red right now. Ivan kisses the side of Till’s neck, staying there for way longer than he’s supposed to. He pulls away slowly. “I’m going back to bed.”
“Okay,” Till chokes out.
“I’ll see you soon,” Ivan drawls lazily.
The weight around Till’s waist disappears, and Ivan’s footsteps pad softly away from him. Till refuses to look up from the counter.
The door creaks shut with a brief click.
There’s a deafening silence. Mizi and Luka are utterly speechless, and Till can feel their gazes burning holes into him.
The silence continues, and no one seems to want to break it.
Till clears his throat. “I can explain.”
“You guys fucked in the store,” Luka states.
Mizi stares forward. “I might be sick.”