𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐑 | 𝘑𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘒𝘭𝘦𝘪𝘯

✰ 34 ✰

The Malmö Arena offered little to no room for actual privacy. Not even the dressing rooms were spacious enough for a quiet minute. Joost established this fact early in his time at Eurovision and post-haste calculated the vacant minutes of the smoking area.

Besides most of the representatives not being smokers, the few that did had an explicit schedule. The Dutch man picked the prolonged period.

For the last time during the journey, he perched on the overly-large, deserted balcony. The cigarette between his index and middle fingers glowed gradually.

His blue, at the bottom flared pants sat around his waist, paired with his white buttoned-up shirt. Joost tried to smoke away the nerves, desperately avoiding the pain. He was extremely proud yet couldn't fight the urge to doubt every sparkle of his abilities.

"Hey", a voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

He was met with Evie and one of her heart-warming smiles. The blonde raised the corners of his mouth as well, he just had to. She paused in front of him, not too far away from his body. Joost took one last drag from his cigarette before placing it aside.

"Hey", he lowered his head to find her eyes,"How are you doing?"

"Slightly nervous, I can't imagine what you must feel like, to be honest. Are you okay?"

Joost hummed: "I'm good. This is all I ever wanted."

Maeve stared at him, a hint of suspicion lingering in her iris. The Dutch had almost forgotten how well she knew him. She could read any notion off of his mind with ease.

"And I'm proud of you. But that doesn't mean you can't be apprehensive", the Irish girl's tone quietened faintly.

"I know", he huffed,"I'm just... anxious, I guess. What if I lose? I don't know what I would do."

"You won't. Have you looked at the masses of people supporting you? You will win, definitely. I'm sure of it."

Joost gazed at the girl. She sounded determined, beyond confident. He wasn't used to it. Evie stepped closer, their figures almost touching.

"Your mama and papa are proud of you, too", she whispered.

He furrowed his eyebrows blindly: "How do you know?"

Her head nodded up to the sky above them. Joost rarely talked about it but he found his parents in the stars. On occasion, he would speak to them. It was his way to communicate his thoughts.

The Dutch man noticed two stars, shining brighter than the rest, right beside one another. They twinkled as he watched.

"Eves, I wanted to talk to you about-", he was cut off by Stuntje's hurried voice.

"Joost! Evie! The show is about to start, we have to go!", he shouted.

The brunette woman smiled apologetically at him and jogged to the door where their friend waited impatiently. Joost groaned internally but followed the others. He never seemed to have enough time with Maeve.

°˖✧✿✧˖°

Sweat formed on his face as he listened to the roaring crowd. He was next in line. The arena continued to be dark as the throwback of the Netherlands' successes at the Eurovision Song Contest played for the world to see. The clock ticked.

He waited beside the stage for his cue, his dancers and friends standing alongside him. None of them spoke. They were focused, locked into their performance mode. Indy and Sophia went over the choreography silently, Stuntje shook in anticipation. Apson counted the seconds he had to endure in the thick bird costume.