Archive of Our Own ^beta

The crowd is cheering. An unbearably loud white noise. It ebbs and flows with the beating of his heart and the rushing of blood in his ears.

Till is victorious. At his feet, blood spilling from the hole in her neck, the once love-of-his-life Mizi lays dead or dying. Till doesn’t really care which. Because across from him is a ghost.

Ivan is different. Taller. Black hair slicked back, a few loose strands framing his face. That one tooth is less pronounced than Till remembers. His eyes are more red. More than that, though, is the way Ivan’s shoulders seem to sag under a crushing weight.

Till wants to be angry. Furious. He wants the years of resentment and hatred towards Ivan and Mizi and the world to erupt from his chest. He wants to fight. To draw blood. Smash this guitar clutched loosely in his hands. Scream and yell until his voice is shredded.

But instead, there is just Ivan. And where there is Ivan, there is only love, yearning, and the bone-deep ache of missing him.

The crowd is cheering. Till has won. And there is Ivan, bringing with him a tidal wave of heartache.

…

Till was annoyed at first. Ivan had woken him up in the middle of the night with a finger to his lips and an uncharacteristic smile.

Out of sheer habit and sleep-muddled thoughts, Till had followed Ivan. Through the Garden, down the winding corridors. He had even allowed Ivan to fiddle with his collar. The shock of having that choking contraption gone had certainly startled Till awake.

Then Ivan was leading him away. Outside. The real outside, with the real night sky and the real stars and moons and city lights in the distance.

Till didn’t ask anything. Just followed along, too enraptured by the cool breeze and moonlight painting Ivan in stark shadows. Ivan didn’t say anything, either. He just held on to Till’s wrist and pulled him along in his wake.

“Where are we?” Till asks once they finally stop. They’re on a cliff. The Garden is still within sight, just a secluded light far away.

Ivan glances over his shoulder, turning a half step. He smiles again, wider than Till is used to seeing on him. His dumb tooth is poking into his skin with the pressure. “You’ll see soon.”

Till huffs at the non-answer, crossing his arms. “What the hell does that mean?”

Ivan’s smile just widens. Bastard.

Then the sky turns into a wildfire. Red, white, pink, orange. Occasional streaks of blue, of green, even purple.

A laugh bubbles up in Till’s chest and bursts from his lips. He’s smiling wider now, too.

“What is this?” He asks. “It’s amazing!”

“A meteor shower,” Ivan replies.

Till breaks his gaze away from the sky for long enough to look at Ivan. He furrows his eyebrows as he notices the other boy is staring at him.

“You’re not even watching!”

Ivan’s face softens, his dark eyes filled with some emotion Till couldn’t even begin to guess at. It makes something in him stop. What could possibly cause a reaction like that out of Ivan?

“What?”

Ivan surges forward. He grabs both of Till’s hands in his own, dragging him. Till stumbles a bit, having to lean on Ivan to keep his balance.

“Let’s go,” Ivan says. He sounds frantic. His eyes have changed, from that soft emotion to something more like eagerness and hope.

Till pulls away slightly, though remains in Ivan’s hold. “Go where? Can’t we stay until the show is over? You took off the collars so that they wouldn’t realise we were gone, yet, right?”

“No.” Ivan shakes his head. “No, I mean, let’s leave. We can escape, right now. We don’t have to go back to Anakt, or back to our owners. We can go, be free. Live our own lives. Together.”

“What? No way,” Till says. He pulls his hands out of Ivan’s grip with enough force to send him back a few steps. He knows he must be close to the cliff’s edge, but he doesn’t want to look away from Ivan. The other boy’s frantic look has faded somewhat by confusion.

“What do you mean? Don’t you want to be free?”

“Yeah, of course I do, Ivan. But, what about Mizi and the others? We can’t just leave them in there.”

Ivan steps forward. He’s close enough to touch again. Till ducks to the side and out of reach. The solitary light of the Garden is visible once more at the bottom of the cliff.

“We can’t save them all, Till,” Ivan says. Pleads, more like. “But we can go. Just come with me, Till.”

No, they can never be free. If they leave now, they’ll be captured by the Aliens soon enough. Brought back to the Garden, or maybe just killed for running away. If that doesn’t happen, they’ll die on the streets of hunger.

Or maybe they can get away. Maybe it’s as easy as Ivan is making it out to be. But if that’s the case, he’ll have abandoned Mizi in that miserable place. Forced to sing for their pleasure and killed if she disappoints.

Till can’t leave her.

Just like he’s sure Ivan won’t leave him.

He’ll probably be pissed for a few days. He’ll be more of a bastard than usual. Then, he’ll get over it. Like he always does. And they’ll go back to normal. Ivan will follow him around the Garden and ace all of their classes. And Till won’t have to choose between living with Ivan or living with Mizi.

Till glances back up at the fire in the sky.

“Thank you,” he says, “for showing me this. Let’s go back, Ivan.”

Till looks at Ivan. He watches as the taller boy’s heart shatters. And then, to Till’s satisfaction, watches as he resigns himself to the future that Till has chosen for them.

He turns away from Ivan and towards the Garden where Mizi sleeps.

He does not notice as the cliff edge gives way. He doesn’t notice as Ivan, sad resignation overcome by shock, falls. Till only notices that Ivan is not with him when he gets back to the Garden. And with Ivan’s absence, a new emptiness.

…

The emptiness grows as the years go by.

Ivan used to trail after him constantly. He was always there, just within reach. Hovering over his shoulder during free time. Catching his eye across the room during class. A lingering shadow.

Till will admit, he took Ivan for granted. They say distance makes the heart grow fonder. At first, in the immediate aftermath of Ivan’s escape, Till missed him terribly. Because suddenly he was alone most of the time.

Well, not really alone alone. The others were always around. Luka and Hyuna would sit and play games by the tree. Mizi and Sua would write music by the fake sky-blue walls. They were always within Till’s sight.

But Till didn’t always have someone with him. Because Ivan had decided to leave.

Till scoffs. He had overestimated Ivan’s loyalty, maybe. Had assumed that resignment on his face had been because Ivan had agreed to come back. Now, Till knows it was really acceptance of their futures apart.

Till hopes Ivan will be okay. That he’s not already dead in a ditch somewhere.

But good riddance.

With Ivan gone, now Till has more time for Mizi.

But the years continue, and Till spends his time still mostly alone. Because Mizi has Sua. Sure, he’ll sometimes tag along with them. He’ll even sometimes get to hang out with Mizi just the two of them. But, he’s always the one seeking her out, not the other way around.

The emptiness grows. It festers into resentment. Which festers into anger, and into hatred and spite.

Ivan abandoned him. Till was probably never his friend to begin with, just an interesting person to watch and annoy.

Mizi spends all of her time with someone else. She doesn’t care about him as much as he cares about her, obviously.

That’s fine, then. They shouldn’t be making friends in this place anyway.

Because there will be a competition soon. And he’s gonna win.

…

Till dreams about that wildfire night all the time.

He dreams of Ivan, silhouetted against the red. Of Ivan’s smile and stupid tooth and black hair as it moves with the breeze.

Sometimes, his dreams continue after. He goes with Ivan, into some future where they are together forever. Into a future without Aliens or collars or being forced to sing. It’s a future where they get to choose their songs, choose when they sing and who they sing for.

These dreams only add fuel to the fire. Because that world is not possible. Ivan is gone. Left him alone in this rotten place.

Mostly, he hates how beautiful Ivan always looks in those memories.

…

Luka and Hyuna are first. They sing a ballad, voices in perfect harmony. It’s the song about the flower. About eternal love, or something shitty like that.

There’s no movement on stage. Just them and their microphones. Neither bothers to look towards the crowd, only at one another.

Boring. Sentimental. Nothing like how they were taught.

Hyuna loses. She gets shot in the head, a perfect bullseye. Her blood splatters across Luka’s face.

Till watches as the older man collapses to the ground, hands reaching for Hyuna’s leaking body. The Aliens come up behind him, clamping the collar back around his throat and forcing him to his feet.

There’s a distant pang in Till’s chest at seeing Hyuna dead. She’s been in a constant in his life for a while now. But he’s also known for a while that everyone else will need to die so that he can win.

At least Hyuna got it over with fast.

…

Mizi wins the next round.

Till forces away the pride he feels at seeing her perform.

…

Sua wins round three.

She embraces Mizi when they reunite backstage.

Till clenches his jaw, and stops himself from destroying his guitar.

…

Till’s first victory is a landslide.

…

Luka is a great singer. His voice is like honey, his range almost double that of anyone else.

But Till can tell, as they circle one another on stage, that Luka is off his game. He’s probably still reeling from Hyuna’s death, and from the imbalance one feels after losing their anchor in this shitty world.

Till understands. He really fucking gets it. But Till has had a long time to adjust. Luka’s barely had a day.

So Till pokes and prods. He taunts.

And Luka absolutely looses his mind.

The first punch isn’t what startles Till. It’s the second punch. Luka knocks them both to the stage floor. And then keeps punching. The back of his skull rocks against the floor with each impact. Blood, warm iron, fills his mouth as he bites down on his tongue.

Till knows Luka will be killed soon enough. The Aliens won’t allow such violence from their idols.

Good. Till wasn’t all that convinced he’d be able to beat Luka on performance alone. But this way is best. He’s never like Luka, anyways.

The punching stops. Luka falls away.

With a groan, Till pries open his eyes. There is a thick fog on the stage. Did the Aliens do this to obscure Luka’s psychotic break?

Till sits up, leaning heavy on his arms as his head spins.

Luka’s body isn’t next to him.

No, Luka is being dragged away by… humans? A few of them, retreating into the fog and for the backstage exits.

Another person is being dragged, too. A tall, dark someone.

Till blinks. It almost looks like Ivan.

He blinks again, and Ivan is gone.

…

In round six, Sua dies for Mizi. She throws away her microphone, closes the distance to Mizi in a single second, and pulls her forward into a kiss.

They stay together like that for several long seconds. Each desperately grabbing on to the other.

Then, Sua pulls away. She gives Mizi a smile full of such raw emotion Till has to look elsewhere.

Sua gets shot three times. The pouring rain washes the red away.

…

Once upon a time, Till would have given anything to sing a duet with Mizi. But that was a long time ago, when he thought she loved him as much as he loved her. When he thought his infatuation was returned.

But Mizi loved Sua. And Ivan abandoned him. So, now, Till is going to win this stupid competition and prove once and for all that he is worth something.

Till wins. Mizi gets shot in the neck as she reaches for something off stage.

The crowd cheers.

…

Ivan is here, and the hardened ice around Till’s heart melts away in an instant.

The resentment and anger and hatred that has grown in him since that night dissipates as Ivan meets his gaze. Those dark eyes, the tooth, the square jaw.

Ivan is here, and Till is no longer alone.

He steps forward. He wants to grab Ivan by the hand and leave this place, together. He wants to sing with Ivan, too; stars only know how many ballads he’s written about the other boy in secret over the years. Mostly, Till just wants to be free with Ivan by his side again.

Till takes halting steps towards Ivan, uncaring for the panic on his face.

Ivan rushes to meet him halfway, arms suddenly embracing him in a tight hold, one hand on the back of his head. Till ducks his forehead down onto Ivan’s shoulder, allowing himself to be spun around.

A gunshot pierces through the crowd’s white noise.

The warmth of blood makes Till shiver.

Heart racing, Till lifts his head and pulls away from Ivan’s arms. There is blood spreading across Ivan’s clothes at an alarming rate.

“Ivan,” Till whispers.

Ivan keeps one arm on Till’s shoulder, the other snaking around his abdomen to try and stop the blood.

This can’t be happening. Ivan can’t leave him again. Not now that he’s finally back.

“You know, for the longest time, I resented you,” Ivan says.

Till bites back a sob. Ivan’s voice is deeper now, but it’s the same smooth timbre it always was.

“It was easier than the ache of missing you. But you were always on my mind, even when I didn’t want you there. I don’t think I’ve ever been capable of living without you, even when circumstances kept us apart.”

Ivan’s knees buckle. Till reaches out to catch him, slowing their crash onto the stage floor below. Ivan is breathing heavy, a bit of blood at the corner of his mouth. On the tip of that one stupid tooth.

Till shifts behind him, sitting on his knees so that Ivan can rest against him. Black hair ghosts at Till’s neck where Ivan’s head sits heavy against his shoulder.

“I helped build this for you, you know?” Ivan continues. “This rebellion. So that I could rescue you from the Stage. Come flying in wearing a white suit, snatch you away and carry you to safety. To a life of freedom. With me.”

Till sobs. “We still can. Ivan. Ivan, we can still leave together. Forget about all of this and just escape. I was such an idiot, such a fucking idiot back then. We should have left that night, all of those years ago. And, fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“It’s okay, Till. It all worked out, in the end. You’re going to love it, Till. Freedom. You’re much better suited for it than I ever was, I think.”

Ivan coughs, more of that awful red liquid painting his lips and chin. Till takes his sleeve and wipes it away. He leaves his hand on the side of Ivan’s face, thumb absently stroking circles on his cheek.

“Forgive yourself, Till,” Ivan says after he’s caught his breath. “Again and again, endlessly. Embrace the pain and shame, too. And remember that I love you. Have loved you, since the day we first met.”

Ivan is here. Ivan is dying.

Tears sting in Till’s eyes as he looks down at Ivan with a sad smile.

And he does the only thing he can do in this moment of unbearable grief.

He sings a lullaby.

Ivan joins him. Their voices blend together in perfect harmony. Till can almost hear the orchestra behind them, strings swelling to a crescendo at the height of their duet.

Ivan makes it to the final note. His voice trails off first. Till holds on to it for just a moment longer. He doesn’t want their song to end. He doesn’t want to be alone again.

But for now, at least, Ivan is here.