Langour ・❥・Joost Klein・❥・

48.

Friday's schedule was packed.

The semi-final was tonight and the day was filled with interviews, activities and a dress rehearsal for the performance. Thankfully, the Dutch team's personal organiser was efficient with his clipboard in hand and his mobile constantly updating the EBU on Joost's whereabouts. His own team didn't need to worry about a thing and Fenne was eternally grateful.

'I was told about your impressive gabber dance moves. Will we be seeing any of that on stage in Malmö?' the interview asked, holding the microphone to Joost.

On the sofa, the Dutch representative sat in his blue suit with his glasses over his eyes. Behind him, Apson stood in his bird suit and Stuntje joined him in his own attire. The trio were doing the last round of questions before they needed to head to the dress rehearsal.

'Yes. Yes. At the moment, I think yes. I am like water. I'm very fluid,' Joost answered in English. 'I can go everywhere. I can go in places like the butt crack where nobody comes... yeah.'

Fenne and Hanna planted their faces into their palms. The laughter of the interviewer teamed with Apson and Stuntje's restrained wheezes. Along with Teun and Nathan, who stood dumbfounded, the women wondered what was going through Joost's head. They knew enough English to know that Joost had said something inapproriate on international television.

'I think we need to get him a PR representative,' Nathan stated.

'Why does he always talking about coming in things?' Fenne whined into her hand. 'My parents watched the interview he did where he hoped The Netherlands would come inside him.'

'What did they say about it?'

'What do you think they said, Hanna?'

Hanna pressed her lips together at her friend's distress. As the semi-finale drew closer, Fenne was inching towards a nervous breakdown. While Joost paraded around like a walking PR disaster, Fenne followed close behind as a bag of nerves. No matter how hard she tried to sit back, she couldn't stop the urges to cringe when Joost would make social anxiety tremble in its boots.

To distract herself, Fenne pulled her phone out of her pocket. The many Instagram and TikTok posts that she had posted for promoting the semi-final left her apps riddled with notifications. The only app that didn't have a red circle and a high number next to it was the news icon. Out of desperation, Fenne tapped on it and began scrolling.

Of course, all she saw were Eurovision articles. The Netherlands' press were posting nonstop about their representative who had gained worldwide support. Pictures of Joost in his current outfit occupied her feed and Fenne scrolled mindlessly. She had read it all already and she wasn't sure what she was even hoping to find.

Israeli representative makes political statement on war in the Middle East

Fenne scrolled past, not wanting any negativity to add to her anxiety. It was inevitable that politics and the terrible things happening in the world would make its way into Eurovision. The underlying issues of having a controversial representative at the competition was being ignored by most, but not everyone. The press hounded the contestant and the EBU took extra measures to control the political talk. But it seemed that the Eden Golan had her own things to say on the matter.

'Jesus Christ, these guys again?'

Fenne looked up at Nathan's hiss. The man stared to their right, where a team of people laughed and giggled behind their hands. They acted as if the Dutch team couldn't see them as they looked over their shoulders before gossiping to the next person. When Fenne saw them pull out their phones and position their cameras in their direction, an alarm bell rang in her head.