Langour ・❥・Joost Klein・❥・

50.

The last interview took the form of a conference. All the contestants who had made it through to the final sat on a panel with the press seated before them. With translators by their sides, the contestants gave their last thoughts before the final performance that would take place that night.

In a pair of pink sunglasses and in his collared shirt, Joost sat with The Netherlands flag over his shoulders. After consuming three Monster Energies at breakfast, Joost was prepared to answer any and every question that was thrown his way.

He had seen Eden Golan when he sat down and had the pleasure of being a mere person away on the table. His own translator sat behind him and hers hung over her shoulder, no doubt, aware of the hostility between the Israeli and Dutch representatives.

When he lowered into his seat, Joost had half a mind to say something about last night. But when the questions started rolling, Joost found a better way to make his sentiment towards her known.

'I have a question for Miss Golan!' a journalist held their hand up and was picked from the crowd. 'Have you ever thought, by being here, you bring risk and danger for other participants?'

A silence ensued and Joost smirked from underneath his flag.

'You don't have to answer that question if you don't want to,' one of the EBU's organisers said into the microphone. Emerging from the blue, white and red cloth, Joost leaned back against his chair and called out,

'Why not?'

Mumbles ensued and Joost relished in the smiles that were thrown his way from the press. Journalists had been dying to question the woman whose presence at the EBU was controversial. They were censored from asking difficult questions, but it seemed that the only way they were going to get answers, was from the prompting of one of Eden Golan's fellow contestants.

From the stage's table, Joost looked to the corner where he could see his team stood together. Stuntje, Apson, Nathan and Teun stood against the wall, their snickers making him want to burst into giggles. He caught the thumbs-up that was sent his way from Teun before he looked to the two smaller figures.

Fenne's palm was against her forehead and Hanna rubbed at her eyes with a groan. They were powerless from their place at the back of the room and Joost knew it. There was no PR voice nagging him to shut up and he had no fear of upsetting the wrong people. Joost didn't care, because he was in Eurovision's final, and no article or other contestant was going to take that from him.

'Um I think we're all here for one reason and one reason only,' Eden started into her microphone. 'The EBU are taking all safety precautions to make this a safe and united place for everyone. And um... I think it's safe for everyone.'

Joost scoffed as spots of applause sounded throughout the room. Members of the press jotted down notes while some sat back with their own bored expressions. It was an answer that was shaped for the cameras and everyone knew it. It satisfied who it needed to, and that was that.

'If I could say something to Friesland's Joost Klein?'

Joost perked up and looked around the room with wide eyes. The English was laced with a Dutch accent, making Joost grin.

'Friesland?! Are you from Friesland?!'

'Yes, Joost. Born and bred,' the journalist stood up, happy to be recognised by a fellow Dutchman. 'I just wanted to comment on the recent article that was released, and say that your parents were with you last night. They would be very proud of you.'

The applause that followed put the previous round to shame. The Dutch journalist smiled at Joost from his seat and Joost put his hands together to show his deep gratitude. He put aside his urge to make a mockery of the conference. If Joost didn't favour his relationship with Fenne, he would have leapt over the table and kissed the man in a passionate gesture.