Strangers

"I need him."

Kostya tried calling Kristian multiple times, but, understandably, he didn't pick up. Why would he have any reason to? But the more Kostya tried calling Kris, the more desperate he became. He had to pick up. If he found out through rumors... Oh god.

He sent a text.

Kostya: Please pick up. It is really important.

Three dots in a bubble appeared, symbolizing that Kristian was typing...

and typing...

...and typing, before the bubble disappeared.

Kostya: Seriously, it is urgent.

Finally he answered.

Kris: I don't want to talk to you. 

Kris: If you are wasted at a club and regretting fucking that Swedish douchebag, then that's your problem. It's over, Kostya.

Kostya: Kristian, please. It isn't about that... or, well, it kind of is. The newspapers know about... him. I have no idea how, but the media found out. I just wanted to tell you before you saw it yourself.

It took a while before he got a reply.

Kris: So what? It was you who got yourself into that situation. As I said, I don't want to talk to you, so stop making me feel sorry for you messing up your life. It's over, Kostya.

Kostya wanted to text him back, calling him out for being petty and childish. But he couldn't. It was, after all, Kostya's fault.

He threw away his phone in frustration, swore loudly and hit the wall multiple times.

Fuck you, Kristian. Fuck you. Fuck you for making me do this, fuck you for leaving me, and fuck you for making me fall in love with you.

***

It was a sleepless night. The shadows were creeping in around him, like magnetic smoke being attracted to lonely souls. They made his chest heavy, his breaths short and shallow. A warm flood of tears streamed down his face, but he couldn't stop them, nor the pain in his chest and throat. He was gasping for air, seeing the world spinning around him. He closed his eyes, tried to stay calm although everything around him was crumpling, including himself.

With shaky hands he managed to send a text to his mother, who came into the room shortly after. She had seen him have anxiety attacks before, she knew what to do. She opened the windows and held his hand firmly, her warm embrace and amber eyes comforting him.

"It will be okay, sweetie. It will be over soon. Just breathe along with me, okay?"

His chest was on autopilot, opening and closing on its own. Slowly, his breaths became less frequent, and he begun getting more controlled breathing. The dizziness stopped.

"I need him," Kristan managed to utter. "I need Kostya."

***

"Kostya! Kostya!"

"Mélovin, can we take a photo?"

"Is it true that you and Benjamin are dating?"

"Have you dumped Kristian?"

Kostya pushed the bright flashes and sweaty bodies away from him, clenching his jaw to not punch them in the face. Artem was right in front of him, moving the journalists, photographers, fans, and paparazzi away. 

"You really have got yourself in a good situation here, huh?" Artem muttered. Kostya didn't answer, just kept going to the airport.

"How is the situation with Kristian? Are you still together? There are claims that he was kicked out of his own home. Can you make a comment on that?"

Kostya's head was spinning.

"Did you cheat on Kristian?"

"Mélovin, can you please make a comment?"

"You cheated on your boyfriend, I hate you! I'm not a fan of you anymore, you sick fuck!"

"Mélovin!"

"You are a horrible person!"

"Mélovin, how is the situation with you and Kristian?"

"Homosexuals go to hell!"

"Did you or Benjamin make the first move?"

"Why did you cheat with your boyfriend?"

Suddenly, it was as if he was under water. Everything seemed irrelevant, distanced, somehow.

"Just fuck off, okay! I'm not gonna make a comment!"

He ran after Artem, who just mumbled under his breath about a ruined career.

***

Kostya had to turn off his phone because of all the notifications he was getting. He had arrived in Kiev for his last concert, but decided to stay at a hotel instead of his apartment. He couldn't deal with the memories right now. 

Having everyone love him, then hate him after only one mistake, was unusual to him. He couldn't answer to any of their questions, because the more he thought, the less he knew. 

He sighed, burying his nose in his sweatshirt, an oversized hoodie with a dainty avocado pattern. It smelled slightly of Kristian, and Kostya was brought back to the day before the tour, remembered the morning light on Kristian's cheeks and his peaceful slumber. 

He barely felt the tears fall, he just let his body shake, shivering with every sob. Why did he cheat? He didn't even know anymore. He thought it was to forget Kristian, but maybe it was the opposite, trying to remember how it was before they split apart.

Kostya had heard that in Japan, people believed you and your soul mate were connected by a red string tied around your pinky fingers. Maybe this was the case. No matter how hard Kostya would try to get away, Kristian would always drag him back. The question was if Kristian still wanted Kostya to come back.

----

Hi guys. I just wanna let you know that I am going through a bit of a rough time at the moment, but I that I am very grateful of your votes and comments even though I don't always answer them. Your kind words really keep me going, and I find that when I write, I just kind of "let go" of myself, for a while. I have read through Strangers, and I have realized how much it actually reflects me, even though I thought it didn't. Kostya and Kristian's issues aren't related to mine, yet I can still somehow recognize myself in it. Maybe I just unconsciously wrote my emotions before I realized I was feeling them. Sorry for such a long rant, but I hope you know how grateful I am for having my readers, and that I begun writing this story. I have learned so much about writing by doing this, it has changed me, in a way. I don't know exactly when or how this story will end, but just knowing I have my readers makes me want to cling onto it for as long as I can. So yeah. Thanks, guys.