Langour ・❥・Joost Klein・❥・

2.

From the left of the stage, the performer ran out and threw their arms in the air. The club dancefloor filled with screams and hoots, and the high-pitched changed to Dutch for the chorus.

In a pair of baggy jeans and a white wifebeater, the blonde performer greeted the crowd with a microphone in his hand. A belt saying 'FUCK YOU' sat low on his waist and his toned arms were littered with various tattoos. He was slim and fair-haired with a small moustache along his top lip.

'Nice to meet you, mr. Klein, we need a bit more wine!' he deepened his voice as he sang into his microphone.

Fenne didn't register the many elbows she received in her sides or the shoves in her back. Her eyes were fixated on the young man on stage, who jumped from corner to corner. He was filled with so much energy that the crowd didn't need any encouragement. His ability to rap while dancing and smiling was impressive, but it was the familiarity of his crinkled eyes and cheek-splitting grin that stumped Fenne.

'Isn't that fucking Joost Klein?! From highschool?!' Hanna's shout was barely audible. The girl stared in bewilderment, glancing to her friend next to her for confirmation. From Fenne's hanging jaw and fixated eyes, Hanna had her answer before it was factually confirmed.

'Yes, yes, ladies and gentleman. This was Joost Klein with his new hit single "Droom Groot"!'

The song's English finale snapped Fenne out of her trance. The music died and the crowd applauded the performer's opening track. With an interlude, the blonde man took the moment to address the club with one arm spread out wide.

'How are we doing tonight, Amsterdam?!' he called into the microphone. The crowd replied with a hearty roar, and Joost Klein grinned in the spotlight.

He had grown up. Of course he had, Fenne thought to herself. It had been years since she last saw the platinum blonde. Her last memory of Joost Klein was hazy. It was in the midst of her teens and she couldn't recall times of seeing the boy towards the last years of highschool.

But seeing him on the stage, his face slimmer and cheekbones chiselled against his messy hair, Joost amazed Fenne. His smile was the same and Fenne remembered when she first saw him when they were preteens. From her place in the crowd, she could see Joost was glowing. He was in his element, and Fenne wondered if he remembered her.

'If you don't mind, I'm going to play some more Dutch music,' Joost said nonchalantly into his microphone.

The music started up again, and the new beat put the crowd into another frenzy. On stage, Joost started jumping around, his skin already slick with sweat. He was so into his own songs but didn't seem to tire. His blonde hair was deflated into his eyes, but he didn't seem to care.

Fenne couldn't look away and found herself beginning to jump along with the crowd. She was about to finish her drink and start dancing to the song she didn't know.

'Who are you? I am god! I'm sure you're on seven pills!'

Joost sang while his eyes swept the blur of faces. The lights from the back of the club were blinding, making it difficult for him to focus on people's features. Just as his eyes crept near the middle, Hanna's shout reached Fenne's ear.

'Let's get another drink!

Looking away from the stage, Fenne was pulled out of the moment. She turned to see her friend scowling at a girl who was practically jumping on her back. Hanna didn't take kindly to others, especially when they were unaware of the people around them. Her suggestion to get another drink was genuine with the obvious irritation of the surrounding crowd.

It was coincidental that Ome Robert was coming to the end and Joost didn't need to sing into his microphone. The face that shyed away just before he could get a good look made him choke. It was a face that he had never gotten over, yet he swore he saw it in the middle of a crowd that he had performed to countless times.