Die Mannschaft 🇩🇪

“Kris, we’re still young. That’s a big thing to claim.”

Kris pulled away from me abruptly, and I whined at the loss of his warmth. “It’s not! That’s how I feel. You are my whole world! I can’t lose you! I don’t want to lose you!”

I grabbed his face, full of stained and running tears, with both hands, bringing him closer to me. “You won’t lose me. Distance is just that. Distance. My heart will always be with you though. I’ll always be here,” I placed my right hand above his heart, “with you. And one day, when I’m done with school, I’ll come back here. I’ll study here, and we’ll live together, just like we always wanted. All I ask from you is just a little patience. Okay, baby?”

Kris lowered his eyes to the ground, trying to gulp down his last tears. It broke my heart to see him like this. Kris had been the strongest person I knew. He didn’t want to let anyone see him as vulnerable, probably because he spent a good amount of his life being bullied about his long hair, which I always found ridiculous. His hair was amazing, and he was pretty proud when he started growing it; it reminded him of his dad, and he was proud to be his dad’s son.

That’s how I met him. I was about 9 or 10 when my family and I finally moved to Ljubljana, having already spent about 5 years between Koper, Portorož, Pula, and Rijeka, and a few years before that in Trieste. My parents were diplomats, so they were always on the move. And when they were on the move, the whole family was on the move.

I changed countless schools within 6 years, which was why I never managed to make solid friends. I tried to keep some friendships here and there, but they eventually fell apart when communication between us wasn’t feasible. On the bright side, that made me learn more languages, so by the time I was 6 or 7, I already knew how to speak pretty decent English, Italian, Croatian, and Slovenian, on top of my mother language.

When my parents announced we were moving to Ljubljana, I got really upset just because I thought we had finally settled on the seaside of Slovenia, and I didn’t want to move to the capital, in the middle of the country. It took me a couple of years to get used to it.

Kris helped me with that. He was the neighbours’ kid; the oldest out of three. I wasn’t one to approach someone I didn’t know, and he seemed to be just like me. He was the awkward boy with the long, dark blonde hair, and I was the opposite with my cut short hair.

At least we had something in common: our awkwardness which came out as being antisocial at times. It was our moms the ones who arranged for us to meet and play together one day. As my mom put it, Kris “seemed like a nice and quiet kid, and I’m sure you’ll take a great example from him.”

Yeah, in my parents’ eyes, Kris had always been perfect. The perfect son, the perfect older brother, the perfect student. Even when he eventually picked up the guitar and became a pro in basically less than a year, he was the perfect artist.

I envied that. Kris seemed to have the perfect life set out for him. Despite his initial awkwardness, he was a truly charming person, not just because of his looks, but also because of the way he spoke. He was quite an intellectual for his age, and it made me want to achieve more in my life, just to show my parents that I could be as good as he was.

He never saw me antagonistically. To him, I was his best friend; it took us a while, but we were, eventually, inseparable. Kris helped me navigate through the last years of elementary school, through junior high, and eventually high school. He wasn’t the most popular, but I could see he was charismatic.

That’s how he met Bojan, Martin, Matic, and, later, Jan. I’d still laugh at his “this song doesn’t have a distortion” comment towards the newly-found ‘Apokalipsa’ band. Bojan got so embarrassed, he blushed like a tomato. Kris, on the other hand, was totally unhinged. And these two would eventually manage to make a band and stay in a band together, which was a shock, but also not really. Their vibes and auras matched each other’s so well, as if they were lost souls.

However, when it came to romantic relationships, Kris was completely clueless. It was thanks to Bojan that Kris and I got together at the age of 14, about a year ago, after 2 years of Kris - apparently - crushing on me. He was never the one to initiate a move, especially when he got anxious, because he didn’t know what to say or do. Bojan knew how to “assist” in the whole situation.

He basically organized his whole 16th birthday party just to make Kris confess his feelings to me, and - hopefully - get us together. And it worked, despite Kris’s full-of-stutters confession. Because I also liked him and had for a couple of years by that time, so actually around the same time Kris started having feelings for me. 

Bojan later told me that he helped Kris just because he wouldn’t stop nagging him about how he felt about me but still wouldn’t make a move, and Bojan “knew that Kris wouldn’t make a move and he’d chicken out, so he had to help his friend before we all graduated high school.”

Kris’s 15th birthday party was even more special than his previous birthdays, because we were officially together, and we were happy with each other. We were already friends before we got together, so there was no awkward, getting-to-know-each-other period. It was the same as before but we could now kiss each other and call us boyfriend and girlfriend.

His parents already claimed they loved me, and my parents were feeling the same about Kris. Technically, the only thing that changed between us was the closer contact and technical terms, because, outside of that, we still spent a ridiculous amount of time in each other’s homes, either to hang out, listen to music, watch a movie, or just be or to help each other with school homework.

Kris was teaching me Dutch - with the help of his mom, of course, because he wasn’t “as expert as he wanted to be”, and I was teaching him my own mother language, with my parents’ help for the same exact reason. The sad part was that I wasn’t as “trained” in writing as I was in speaking, which was way easier, and I still had a lot to learn.

Thankfully, spring came soon to Slovenia, and we were able to visit the countryside more often. Transportation was quite efficient, and it was easy to take the train from Ljubljana to Koper or Portorož on the weekends and enjoy looking at the sea and the warmth of the sun. Other times, we’d drop by Vrhinka to visit Jan and we’d go somewhere the three of us, or more, if Jan had company.

As summer came and more and more people started going on vacation, we weren’t the exception. Usually, Kris would tag along with my family and me on a weekly vacation to Izola, Trieste, or wherever we had booked our vacation. Being a couple with him didn’t get him uninvited. On the contrary, my parents were now taking extra care of him, feeding him more than he could handle - their way of showing their love to someone.

Surprisingly, after minimum persuasion from Kris, the Guštins decided to invite me over for their one-month summer vacation to the Netherlands. I wasn’t feeling completely comfortable with that, given not only the fact that it was away from home, but also because the Netherlands was their own thing - it was a family vacation to visit family, and I didn’t know where I’d fit in that.

Turned out it felt more like home than I ever thought it would. Was it because of Kris’s adorable grandparents? His huge, happy, and loving family? There was something special and so inviting in the air, to the point where I thought to myself I could easily live there for the rest of my life. I was devastated when we eventually had to leave, but Kris’s grandma told me she would be happy to have me again soon.

At least my birthday was coming soon, which probably meant an amazing birthday party was in the works. I really wanted to have a live band over to play for my birthday, but I knew the most we could afford was probably some small, local one. Something which didn’t sound so bad, considering I knew such a band that seemed professional enough for their age, but not as professional as to cost an arm and a leg.

Apokalipsa came straight into my mind. They played beautifully - in general - and Bojan’s voice was maturing more and more with time, slowly navigating into his own path of self-discovery. Kris and Jan’s band was also pretty good, but it wasn’t just there yet. Kris could see it; Jan could see it; probably the others saw it as well.

Kris was seemingly having fun playing for “Buržuazija” alongside Jan, but not enough fun to justify why he stayed there. In his eyes, I could see he was ready to leave, taking Jan along with him, as soon as a better opportunity came up.

I thought that they would maybe fit better in Bojan’s band, but I didn’t want to be the one pushing and forcing them to play together. It had to be organic and come naturally to them that their musical styles complemented each other better than anyone else’s.

Surprisingly, Kris and Jan were totally fine and understanding with having Apokalipsa play at my party. They hadn’t had a live performance just yet - although they were saying they were preparing something for a while now, and they were curious to see what the other band was like on a stage even as small as this.

Even more surprising was the fact that Kris’s dad himself went up on stage, and played along with Apokalipsa for a couple of songs. Apparently, they had played together on a stage at some point, but it seemed that Kris “forgot” to mention that to me. Nevertheless, this party was one of my fondest memories of my life in Slovenia, thanks to my boyfriend, his family, and our friends.

Fast forward to Christmas - or Krismas as I once told Kris to tease him, and he stopped talking to me for a couple of days, I was set to travel with my family to my parents’ home country to see my grandparents with whom we hadn’t spent Christmas for a while now.

I knew it was technically my own home country as well, but I hadn’t lived there long enough to call it home. On the other hand, Slovenia was home. I’d been living here for a decade now, and I had my friends and boyfriend here. I had my whole life set in Slovenia; my dreams and my future were in Slovenia. Slovenia was my whole heart, and I belonged there.

It was nice visiting my grandparents and going around the country for a few days, enjoying the countryside, the food, and the warm weather; all of which was great, but, again, in my mind, it wasn’t Slovenia. It wasn’t the countryside or the people. It wasn’t Kris.

I was happier than ever when we finally came back a few days after New Year’s because I finally got to see Kris again. We were texting and calling whenever we could, and whenever I had phone reception, but it was so much different than being with him, enjoying the snowy days in Ljubljana.

It was nice to breathe in the crisp air and feel your cheeks burn against the cold. It was even better seeing Kris’s whole face turn even more pink than it already was, making him so much cuter than he already was.

I was happy with the life I managed to make in Slovenia. I was happy that I finally fit in somewhere, and that I was feeling like myself, instead of a shadow of me. I was feeling calm and reassured that there was nothing I wouldn’t be able to overcome with the support of Kris and my friends.

Our first time with Kris was on the night of his 16th birthday. We’d usually have a huge party for him, and Jan would come early from Vrhnika to help Kris’s family and me organize and set everything for the party. This time, Kris was the one to insist that he didn’t want anything big, just a small gathering without parental supervision or his siblings “messing everything up”. He wanted to organize everything the way he liked, and he was already preparing for everything.

When I came over to the party, there was no one there yet, and I just thought they’d be coming in later. But the minutes were passing and nobody was showing up. I was getting worried that nobody would come and Kris would be sad and disappointed. In reality, he had arranged everything to be perfect just for the two of us.

We had talked about it briefly once or twice before; how amazing it would be when the time was right and the stars aligned. That night, when Kris surprised me with rose petals on his bed, scented candles, and “At Last” by Etta James playing on a loop on his record player, I knew that I was ready because it was with Kris. Kris who was my sun, and my moon, and my stars, and probably the only guy I could really say I ever fell in love with.

We were young but we were in love, or whatever it is you feel at that age. And I knew I loved Kris, no matter what anyone else would say. And I knew he loved me too. We were young and we had already planned our whole lives together, as if there was nothing that could stop us.

We were living in the present, but constantly thinking of our future. And in that future, we were growing together, eventually having kids because we both loved the idea of having each other’s kids. We were either going to stay in Ljubljana or the Netherlands or wherever Kris wanted; I was willing to go anywhere just for him to be happy.

Everything came crumbling down at the beginning of March 2016. My parents announced that we were going back to their home country. Permanently. That they were assigned there, and that we had about two weeks at most until we left.

That night I screamed, yelled, and cried like I had never done before. I was pretty sure I was heard all the way through the Guštins’ household, and I appreciated the fact that, at least, they didn’t understand a thing I screamed at my parents.

I was beyond angry about that. That decision came out of nowhere. Literally. Unless it was their plan all along when we “suddenly” went to visit my grandparents for Christmas. I knew it wasn’t like they personally made that decision because work always decided for them.

But they could have said no, like they had done once before, sometime before my younger sister was born. Back then, they decided they wanted us to have a stable environment, and moving wouldn’t be ideal for any of us. What changed now? Yeah, it had been years since, but I was literally two years away from graduation.

Then the realization hit me but I had to speak directly with them to confirm my speculations. And they did. Basically, they wanted me to study in their home country, which was why they had requested they get transferred. It didn’t just happen. They specifically asked for this. They were forcing me to leave everything behind because of some caprice.

I had made it clear that I wanted to stay, study, and live in Slovenia. And they went behind my back and ruined my plans for the future. I was devastated and my mind was numb. I didn’t want to go back to a place I never knew; to a place I didn’t want to know. 

Eventually, I was forced to go along but I had to tell Kris before anyone else told him, because I needed, even in that moment of pain, to let him share his pain with me. 

“All I ask from you is just a little patience. Okay, baby?”

Kris lowered his eyes to the ground, trying to gulp down his last tears. He was trying to breathe through his clogged nose and throat, and I was worried he was having a panic attack. The signs pointed to this. I took his hands on mine, trying to ground him.

“Kris, baby, please breathe. Slowly. In and out. In and out, baby.”

Kris was trying to mimic my breathing and control the air in his lungs. Slowly and steadily, he was finally able to take deep breaths once again. 

“I hate that you’re leaving.” His voice was rougher now, and his eyes sunken.

“I hate that too. I thought…I thought I’d grow old here,” I now felt my tears falling involuntarily, and I tried to wipe them away quickly, “with you, hopefully. You were right. I cannot live away from you either.”

Kris wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into his embrace. I couldn’t help myself from sobbing. It wasn’t fair! Everything was going great! Why did we have to leave?

“Can you please stay the night? At least, one last time before you go.” His voice was now soft and small like a whisper.

“Okay,” I whispered back, trying to get deeper into his embrace if that was even possible.

I tried to enjoy the last moments we had together, breathing in his scent, trying to imprint it on my mind. We didn’t talk a lot that night, not wanting to make it feel like it was a goodbye. We wanted it to feel like every other day I stayed over at Kris’s room. We didn’t want it to feel like that was it.

Kris’s mom found us in the morning in each other’s arms; I was buried in Kris’s embrace, and Kris had wrapped his arms around my back, holding me tightly, with his chin on top of my head. We didn’t realize when she entered the room, or when she took a picture of us until she sent me an email with it a few days later.

Technically, we still had a couple of days before we left, but Easter was next week, and the Guštins were set to leave for the Netherlands to spend the holiday with Kris’s grandparents, aunts, and uncles there. I wished I could just get into one of their suitcases and go with them.

But our Easter was two weeks away, and my parents wanted to catch up and settle down before the stores and schools closed for the Easter vacation. So, we were leaving in 4 days, when Kris and his family would already be gone.

When the day of our departure finally arrived, I felt the heaviest I had ever been. I had been telling all of my and Kris’s friends goodbye for the past two days now, but it didn’t feel real. I couldn’t come to the realization that I was leaving and I wasn’t coming back.

I turned to look at the now dark and empty Guštin household, reminiscing of all the wonderful moments I spent with Kris and his family. I was going to miss Kris and his parents, and Maks, and Maja, even Apple who couldn’t stop wagging her tail every time she saw me. 

I was going to miss living in Slovenia, with its amazing, virgin countryside; the spectacular views of the Adriatic Sea; the sweet and welcoming people. With Kris. And Jan, and Bojan, and Martin, and Matic. With the 5 greatest guy friends I’ve ever known.

I remembered what Bojan told me yesterday, when I went by his house to say my goodbyes.

“So, we’re basically having some rehearsals to see where each of us fits, what we have in common, and what we can experiment with.”

“About what? Sorry, I’m lost.”

“Our new band. Didn’t Kris tell you? We decided last week. Kris, Jan, Martin, Matic, and I are going to start a band!”

“Oh, no, he didn’t tell me. I only knew of Buržuazija’s live performance in 3 weeks. He didn’t tell me about the new band.”

“Oh, it’s okay. Don’t worry. It’s not official yet. I mean, Kris would tell you if it was finalized. He must have wanted to keep it a surprise until everything was arranged.”

“Yeah, I understand. So, how are you gonna name the band? Have you thought of a name?”

“Not yet. But I’m pretty sure we’ll come up with something. And when we do, you’ll be the first to know.” Bojan’s face was lit up with happiness, excitement, and hope.

At least I was leaving my Krisko in good hands.

.*.·:·.☽✧✦✧☾.·:·.*.·:·.☽✧✦✧☾.·:·.*.

“Lena? Seriously! It’s chilly outside. What are we even doing outside? It’s like 5 in the morning!” I was groaning, and rolling my eyes.

“Oh, please, please, (Y/N)! You’re the only one I have!” 

“You mean the only one who puts up with your madness.”

“That, too. Please, stay with me. If I get barricade for Joker Out, I swear I’ll owe you big time.” My friend - and roommate - was nuts.

“You already owe me for waking me up at 3 am to get here. And you’re lucky I don’t have classes until next year. What’s your obsession with them, anyway?”

“They’re the best, (Y/N)! They make me feel so happy, and fuzzy, and warm inside. You don’t even know how happy they make me!” Lena was trembling, both from the chill in the air and her excitement.

“I can see that,” I laughed along with her. “I guess I can come with you, but, if we can, we’ll come and go. I don’t want to get cold. I know Barcelona is warm, compared to other places, but I still like warmer weather.”

“I thought that’s why you came here in the first place. Because you like warm weather.”

“That’s one reason. The other is because I finally wanted to get emancipated from my parents. And this master’s was my chance. Apart from the fact that I actually wanted to study for a master’s.”

“You’re weird, (Y/N), you know that?” Lena laughed on her own, as we kept walking towards the venue. 

It wasn’t far from our shared student apartment - just a 20-minute walk. But Barcelona could be weird around that time, especially as the clubs and pubs and whatnot started closing, and drunk and stoned people started filling up the empty streets. Poblenou was just like that - beautiful, but full of such clubs.

“Besides,” Lena went on without interruptions, “they are from Slovenia. Just like you!”

“I’m not from Slovenia,” I rolled my eyes again.

“Sure you are! You lived there for a decade! You are Slovene!”

“I lived there, but I don’t belong there. Or anywhere really. The way I see it, I’m a citizen of the world now!” I was over-exasperating, laughing and trying to cover the sting of pain I felt inside me any time anyone mentioned Slovenia.

Sometimes, I regretted having talked about my background in our introductory class, just because everyone was getting just a little too curious about who I was, where I’d been, what jobs my parents were doing, and all that.

But, I guess, Slovenia was part of my life, whether I liked it now or not. If I were to talk to someone 7 years ago, I’d tell them there’s no better place than Slovenia, no better people than Slovenes, nothing better than anything in Slovenia.

Now, the only thing I felt when someone mentioned Slovenia was pain. And regret. I regret not going to study there after school. I regret not keeping in touch with any of my friends in Slovenia, just because “I was always too busy with uni, curriculum, and part-time jobs”.

I did everything I promised Kris I wouldn’t do. Within a couple of months after I left, we fell apart. I didn’t go back on my summer breaks, or Christmas, or any holiday. And I regretted that then, and I regret it now. And after some time, I was too embarrassed to reach out to any of them. So, I just left things to stay in the past.

I moved on with my life. I tried to make something different of me, something different than my parents. I decided to study finance in their hometown under their initial request. The plan was to study there for a year until I turned 18 and had some money set aside, besides the money my grandparents left me. I would then leave; I would go back to Slovenia, back to Kris, and I would study there and we’d finally set our plan into motion.

But then, I liked it there because I started making friends, and going out, and discovering the city and its surroundings. And for a while, I stopped thinking about Kris and Slovenia. And when I did again, it was too late. It was over a year since I left and Kris must have already forgotten me by then. Letting Kris forget me was the biggest mistake of my life.

“Hey, (Y/N).” Lena was waving for hand in front of me. “Are you with us?”

“Ehm, yeah.” I looked around. We were already outside the venue, but I guess I was too lost in thought to notice it.

“So, these are the girls who are responsible for the queuing,” She explained to me and turned to the girl in front of us. “Which numbers are we?”

“You’re numbers 13 and 14. Can I have your hands? I’m just gonna mark the numbers on you so you’ll know where you’ll be in the queue, okay?”

Lena was too willing to get her number. “13! T-Swizzle’s lucky number!” She practically sang.

I extended my hand to have the number 14 written on it. “So, I guess we’re okay? We can go now?”

“You can actually, but we suggest you come around every 2 to 3 hours, to show the others where you will be in the queue, and get to know who is in front of you and behind you, so nobody gets your spot.”

“Can we actually sit a bit, (Y/N)? I want to get to know the other girls.”

“Yeah, sure,” I shrugged, not really minding staying around for 30 minutes if that meant Lena would talk to people and leave me in my thoughts for a bit.

I sat on the stairs of the club’s exit, scrolling through my phone and minding my own business. Sometimes, when I got nostalgic, I would look up old photos from Slovenia. After a point, there were mostly photos of Kris and the other guys, and I would let my mind numb and go into an obsessive mode again, filling with regret and sadness.

“Hey! (Y/N) is it?” One of the girls interrupted my thoughts again.

“Ehm, yeah! And you are?”

“Ellie. Hey, your friend, Lena, was just telling us you’re from Slovenia?”

“Yeah, not really, but I did spent half of my life there.”

“So, you know Joker Out? Have you met them?” The girl bombarded me with questions, seemingly too excited about this coincidence.

“No, actually. Not even when I was there. They probably became famous after I left.”

“That’s a pity.” She frowned. “Is this your first concert?”

“Yeah. Probably my last, as well. Lena said they wouldn’t come back to Spain next year, and she really wanted to see them perform live, so she asked me and I came along.”

“Oh,  that’s nice. You’re a good friend.”

“Thank you, but I don’t think I am. She has actually promised a full spa treatment and a week’s worth of groceries if I came along. So, it’s a win-win for both of us.”

“Wow. That’s…a lot.” The girl’s eyes were almost popping out at that realization.

“Yeah, but I agreed to wake up at 3 and come with her at almost 6 in the morning when I could still be enjoying my precious sleep.”

“Okay. Yeah. Fair.” She nodded and chuckled.

We were probably talking for a solid half an hour before the club’s door opened, and tens of drunkards started coming down the stairs. I knew the drill by now so I just stood up and nodded at my friend. She nodded back, understanding each other, without saying a word.

She turned at the rest of the girls. “Hey, guys? We’re just going to go for a couple of hours if that’s okay with you?”

“Yeah, sure, but come back in like 2 or 2,5 hours to check with the queue, okay?” One of the girls chimed in.

“Okay. We’re… We’re just gonna tell you because we don’t want you guys to find yourselves in any trouble. It’s just… We wouldn’t stay nearby if we were you. There are a lot of bar fights happening on the streets around after the club closes, and it’s kind of dangerous. There are drugs involved, dealers, weapons…”

“Ehm, okay. Unfortunately, we’ll have to stay, in case anyone else arrives.”

“Okay then. If you need anything, text us, okay? Do you have my socials or…?”

“I don’t think I do. Would you like to exchange?”

“Yeah, sure.” It took us a few minutes, but we were now Instagram friends with some of the girls so we could let each other know if anything came up.

We waved goodbye and we started walking down Carrer de Pamplona. It was still too early - almost 7 in the morning - and the streets were empty and still quiet, as we walked down the street, towards Nova Icaria. Despite being winter here, the beach still attracted many people during the day. But this early in the morning, it was really quiet, as the sun hadn’t risen yet.

It took us about 30 minutes of casual walking to get there, and the only thing I wanted was to sit and look out at the horizon. We walked by the little stairs on the right side, near the marina, and we plopped down, waiting, basically, for the time to pass so we could then go somewhere and grab something to eat.

“Have you ever thought about going back?” Lena’s question came out of the blue, but I knew what she meant.

I gulped. It was the one question that had been stuck in my mind ever since I finished high school. “I thought about it. Many times actually. But…it’s not that easy.”

“Why though? You know the language. You know your way around. You have your friends there.”

“I think that’s where you’re wrong. I don’t know if I even have friends there anymore.”

“I’m sure they still think of you as their friend.”

“I don’t think they do. And I don’t blame them. I left and I had promised I would communicate with them, but I didn’t. Say I lost track of time, say I was overwhelmed by the new reality around me. But, the truth is, I was scared. Scared and jealous. I hated that I had to leave and I was so envious that they got to stay. And I was scared of the pain of having to talk to them while they were so far away. I avoided them to avoid the pain. And I did so well, I actually lost them.”

“I don’t think you did. You never even tried to communicate with them! (Y/N), yes, you made a mistake, but it’s never too late to fix things.”

“I don’t know… I really don’t. I guess I’ll have to check with them at some point, don’t I? If I find them.”

“I’m sure you will. And if you don’t find them, I bet their families will still be there. You can ask them.”

“Again, I don’t know about that. Can we just change topics? Why don’t you tell me about Joker Out? We’re gonna see them, but I have no idea who they are.”

“Omg, (Y/N)! They’re the best! You’re gonna LOVE them! Okay, let’s start with the basics. First of all,...” Lena went from quiet to excitedly loud in no time, and, though I was curious to learn a few things about the band, as it started to dawn, my mind took me elsewhere, somewhere in the fields of Slovenia.

That was always the strongest memory I had from home. Everything was open and pure, and…and I felt free. If we weren’t spending the weekends in Ljubljana, going around the castles and the parks just because, Kris and I would take the train and visit Jan, or we’d go to Kranj or Postojna or somewhere not too far, but also not too close to Ljubljana.

My fondest memory was when Kris took me to Lipica for my name day. I had never been there before - maybe it just didn’t happen, so being there with Kris was extra special for me. We tried horseriding; we visited the horses in the stables and petted them; we hiked around the area. The weather was ideal - not too hot, not too chilly.

I was so happy, I started swaying to the music in my head. I took both of Kris’s hands and started moving them around, trying to make him dance. It was funny watching him move around like a tall, awkward puppet, and I couldn’t help smiling at Kris’s contagious smile. Kris’s arms were wrapped protectively around my body. We were swaying, twirling, and dancing in each other’s arms.

“Which song are we dancing to?” Kris broke the silence.

“1973. James Blunt. It reminds me of you.”

“How so?”

“Because, no matter what happens in the future, I’ll always love you, and I’ll always be scared of losing you. I’ll always be scared of you forgetting me. But we’ll always have this to come back to, even if it’s just the memories. Because I’ll always remember the beautiful moments I got to live with you, no matter how many years pass by; no matter where we end up in life.”

Kris snorted and assured me “that we were never going to be away from each other”. That, in some magical kind of way, the universe wanted me to come to Slovenia and find him, and in the same kind of magical way, even if we ever fell apart and we were away from each other, our souls would still find a way to be together.

“(Y/N)? Are you okay? You’re crying.” Lena brought me back to reality.

I wiped my tears with the reverse of my palm. “Yeah.” I coughed to clear up my voice. “I just thought of something, and I guess I was taken away for a while. I don’t feel like talking about it though.”

“It’s okay. I’ll be here, whenever you are ready.”

“Thanks, Lena. I appreciate that. By the way, do you know what time it is? We have to make an appearance soon.”

“Oh, it’s almost 9, actually. Do you want to go back, stay there for a while, and then go nearby to eat something?”

“You’re right in my mind.” I grinned widely.

“I wish I were, (Y/N). I wish I could see all the things you have seen.”

“I could say the same thing about you. It must be nice growing up in Germany. You know, with the higher salaries, healthcare, opportunities…”

“It’s nice, yes. But it’s not Barcelona. It’s not you.” Lena side-hugged me, and I leaned my head on her shoulder. 

Lena was comforting; Lena was warm; Lena was my best friend and greatest support. She didn’t pressure me into sharing intimate details of my life and I highly appreciated that in her.

We were walking without saying a word. We didn’t have to. Barcelona meant some new kind of freedom for both of us. Within the past 16 months, I’d been staying here, I managed to learn enough Catalan and Spanish to get by in my everyday life, and I was pretty sure I could learn even more. Barcelona could become my new home if I managed to find a job here. I could feel like I finally belonged somewhere after all this time.

Barcelona was still beautiful and warm and welcoming, even though it was almost the middle of December. Other countries had snow and cold by now, but here, we had a wonderful temperature range between 16 to 21 degrees during the day and I loved it.

When we arrived outside the venue, there were a few more new people now, and some of the ones we saw before were gone. They told us they took turns between napping, eating, and getting ready so that everything would go smoothly with the queueing.

I took a chance and started getting to know the others better. They were nice people actually, and I wouldn’t have known if I didn’t engage with them. I’d be honest: I didn’t feel like I belonged there because I didn’t share the same enthusiasm with them.

But as we started talking, I got to know the reasons behind why all these people loved these 5 guys so much. It was like a community with just one same interest among them, and, even though they came from different countries, different backgrounds, different beliefs, and whatnot, they all came together and became one for this one, same interest. I found that fascinating.

However, I was still kind of sleepy, and I awkwardly excused myself as I leaned against the wall, trying to close my eyes for a few minutes and recharge. I tried to blur out all the noises and conversations around me, trying to imagine something neutral to sleep quicker. I started thinking of grass - walking on grass with bare feet; smelling grass; hearing every nature’s sound.

I thought it was most likely because we were talking a lot about Slovenia today that my dreams led me there once again. It wasn’t unusual for me to dream about Slovenia, but that particular dream took me back to my 14th birthday, before Kris and I became boyfriend and girlfriend.

It was at my birthday party, in our backyard. My parents had decorated the trees with fairy lights, small lanterns hung from the tree branches, and LED candles were scattered around the grass. It looked like everything came out of a fairytale, and I was feeling like the cutest princess-fairy.

Kids from both the school and the neighborhood came over, and, though the place was packed, everyone was having an amazing time. There was barbeque, and roasted veggies, and pasta, and desserts. There were board games, karaoke, card games, twister, and dancing. I was just too happy because everything was so special.

I remembered clear as day the moment Kris stepped into the backyard, coming through our living room’s balcony doors, instead of the small turning wooden door our dads built for us to walk into each other’s yard. He looked sharp and polished, wearing a dark blue polo shirt and white pants - slim fit chic style. His hair was partially pulled back with hair gel, and he seemed too perfect right then.

However, he seemed to struggle a bit, holding a big, shiny, lilac bag, and I woke up from his spell to walk up to him and help him with the bag, which actually needed two people to be lifted. We left the bag on the “presents’ corner” and I turned around to hug him tightly.

“You finally came!”

“I wouldn’t miss your birthday for anything in the world, (Y/N).” Kris laughed as he lifted me up. I was used to him picking me up lately, as he got taller and taller, but it still made me squeal. I felt so cute and small when he’d pick me up.

It was also Kris’s way to show someone he loved them. Because Kris rarely hugged someone he didn’t know well, and even more rarely he’d pick someone up. So, you’d have to be someone pretty special for him to act like this, and I was honored Kris viewed me as such.

“By the way, I hope you like the present I got you. I wasn’t sure if you still liked it, but I remembered how you said you did years ago.”

I was a bit confused as to what he meant, so I decided I’d actually have to check his present at that moment. I opened the bag, pulling out a big, also wrapped in shiny lilac paper, cube-like square, and struggling to place it on the first table I found. I turned to look at Kris, raising an eyebrow at him, but he only kept smiling, waiting for me to unwrap it.

I was getting too impatient - as I usually did, so I just ripped the paper, seeing the cube was actually a black, paper, hard wrap. I moved it around a bit and I screamed when I saw what it was. I tried to shut my mouth with both hands to silence my enthusiasm, but it didn’t really work out as people were now staring at us, but I didn’t care.

Kris gave me the best gift I could ask for. He actually got me the entire “House of Night” collection! All 12 books! I teared up and immediately started crying and I didn’t care at all about how exasperated my reaction seemed.

“How did you know? How do you still remember it?”

“I always had it in the back of my mind. I remember you said you lost the books you got when you moved here, and, when I was searching for your birthday present, I saw them on an English website and I knew I had to get them for you.”

“Yeah, but it’s been years ever since I last read them. And an English website? How much did they cost you?!”

“Don’t worry about that. I just hoped you still liked them, because it would have been pretty bad if you didn’t.”

“I do! I love them so much!” I ran at Kris, wrapping my arms around him and basically squeezing the life out of him, crying and panting. “Thank you so much, Krisko! I swear, I owe you big time!”

“No, you don’t. That’s your birthday gift, and you deserve more than that.”

“You’re the sweetest person in the world! I’ll get you the best birthday present! I swear!”

Then, it was like a fast-forward to New Year’s Day and Jan’s 16th birthday party with a unique and amazing firework show over the city of Vrhnika. It was so magical and truly beautiful that I couldn’t keep my mouth shut; I could just stare in awe at the bright colors that shined and lit up the sky above us.

Kris noticed me looking, and came closer, wrapping his left arm around my shoulder. I turned my gaze to look at him, and I smiled, leaning on his chest. I could feel his heart beating faster and stronger than the fireworks. I could smell his distinct smell of his cologne: cardamon, rose, amber, and musk; a smell so delightful and hypnotizing; so familiar; so Kris.

I had no idea that 5 days later, back at Ljubljana and Bojan’s birthday party this time, that same boy with whom I basically grew up, would kiss me and tell me what I wanted to hear for quite some time now: that he liked me for a while now, and he was trying to find the perfect time to tell me. And when he wouldn’t, our friends stepped in to push him to finally do it.

It was the first time Kris and I kissed. The kiss was so sweet, though simple, and it made my heart burst brighter than the fireworks at Jan’s party. I felt like I was floating but I was also grounded and stable on my feet, knowing that that was where I wanted and needed to be. Kris was awkwardly holding my waist with both hands, and I had mine at the nape of his neck, while I was on my tiptoes, trying to reach him.

It sure looked and felt like teenagers kissing: amateur and awkward. But I didn’t care, because I was kissing Kris and that was all I wanted to do for such a long time. I didn’t care for the stares or whistles of our friends when Bojan burst into the guest room where he pushed us 10 minutes before that, because apparently Kris and I “had to talk to each other about something really important”, along with Jan, Martin, Matic, and a few other classmates and friends.

The dream quickly changed to that last day I saw Kris. Kris, full of tears and desperation, trying to hold on to me, while I was fighting the tears and sadness that were trying to burst out of me. I felt empty, numb, and useless watching the love of my life crying and I couldn’t do anything to calm him down.

I felt like I was falling suddenly in my sleep, so I practically jumped, waking up abruptly and hitting my head on the wall. I hissed at the pain and tried to soothe it by rubbing it, hoping it will pass. I took a quick look around: I was still in front of the venue, and it was brighter than before, and I thankfully had my sunglasses to wear with me.

“Hey, sleepyhead! Welcome back. (Y/N)? Were you crying?” Lena caressed my shoulder, her voice changing from friendly to slightly worried.

“No?” I touched my face with my finger, feeling the now sticky tears on my cheeks. “Ah, I guess I did. Probably because I just hit my head on a fucking brick wall.”

“Yeah, I saw that,” Lena chuckled. “It’s okay. We can fix your makeup later. It’s past 2 pm anyway. Are you hungry already?”

I waited for a few seconds to let my senses know about the idea of food. “Yeah, I am. Let’s go.”

We had done a little research already, and we had decided on a small brunch cafe a few blocks down the street. There were tables inside and outside of the store, but we chose to sit inside as, no matter how warm it was outside, I still needed all the warmth and heat I could get.

The cafe itself was beautiful and the staff seemed nice. Our waiter was particularly cute and, surprisingly, spoke my mother language, on top of other languages. Lena could only stand back and watch our little interaction, smiling as if she could understand us. We finally settled on 2 avocado toasts - one with extra egg, 1 americano, and 1 boost juice.

“What was that all about?” Lena whispered-yelled the second our waiter left our table.

“Oh, we were just talking a bit. He’s from my home country actually but he grew up here, so he already knew the language. And he spoke surprisingly well. No accent. It’s actually the first time I got to speak it in almost a year and a half.”

I felt some kind of pride. It has been a while since I heard my language, despite its similarities with Spanish - but not Catalan.

“I wonder if he speaks German.” She smirked.

“You should ask him when he comes back. By the way, are you okay? I slept…somehow, but I did. For 4 hours! Did you manage to get any sleep?”

“No, but I guess it’s because I’m so pumped for the concert I cannot sleep at all. I already feel hypertense. That’s why I just ordered juice instead of coffee. Joker Out is the only thing I need to keep me up for hours.”

“That sounds a bit weird, but whatever suits you, I guess.”

The waiter came back with our orders quicker than we expected. Unfortunately for Lena, he didn’t speak German. The food was really nice but halfway through, I felt my stomach tighten so I had to stop.

“Hey, are you okay? Why’d you stop eating?” Lena frowned, temporarily stopping eating as well.

“I don’t know. I have…like a knot in my stomach all of a sudden. It’s not the food, the food is great. But I don’t know, I have like…a gut feeling that something’s about to go down.” I kept fumbling with my necklace as I was speaking, rubbing the shiny stones with my fingers as if I were making a wish.

“Okay, unrelated, but why are you always rubbing that necklace every time you get nervous or anxious?”

“I don’t know, it just calms me down; grounds me. I’ve had it for so long, it’s part of me by now. It brings me comfort.”

“How much does it even cost? It looks pretty expensive. Gold, diamond... It must have cost a lot.”

“I…I really don’t know. It was, among others, a gift from my, I guess, ex-boyfriend for my 15th birthday, like about 6 or 7 months before I left.”

“That explains the love knot. He must have been in love with you, right?”

I felt my cheeks burning. “Right... And I was in love with him. If I had stayed, I know we’d still be together.”

“Was he that special?”

“He was. The most special.”

“Hey, (Y/N)! Look, I couldn’t find any girl your age for you to play with, but, there’s a really nice, cute, friendly boy in the house right beside us. His name is Kris, he’s your age and his mom is just so nice! Come meet him!”

“No! You promised me there will be girls where we move! You lied! I don’t want to be friends with a boy! They stink and they are mean and make fun of girls!”

“He doesn’t seem like the other boys, (Y/N). He actually seems really nice. Please?”

“Mom!” I continued being as stubborn as I could, trying to make her digress from her plan of meeting the neighbors’ boy.

“If you come outside and get to meet him, I’ll get you the newest Polly Pocket set.”

I raised my eyebrow at her proposition. “The whole house, and the dolls, and the extra outfits?”

“Yes, I swear.”

“Okay, I guess I can meet this…Kris.” Yes, I knew how to play my cards right to get what I wanted. Just like my parents, I was a diplomat through and through.

I walked outside, still holding some doubts. I wasn’t the most sociable person and I could easily bail out, even if that would cost me the new Polly Pocket house.

The fence between the two backyards wasn’t too tall - I was still gaining height. But it was taller than I currently was so I had to tiptoe so I could see what the fuss with that Kris boy was all about.

Leaning and supporting my weight on the fence, I came face to face with a mop of dirty blonde hair. I turned to look at my mom, who just nodded, and then at the mop in front of me.

Without clearly thinking about it, I raised my hand to put the mop aside until I came face to face with a pair of grey-blue eyes. I jumped back a bit, taken aback by the fact that 1) the person in front of me had light blue eyes, compared to the more-commonly-found-in-Slovenia brown eyes, and 2) that person in front me, with hair longer than mine, was actually a boy.

I had never seen a boy with long hair before, because everyone thought that boys should have short hair. This boy looked good with long hair though. They were dirty blonde, straight and shiny, like the wheats under the summer sun. It matched his slightly pink face perfectly.

“Kris, this is (Y/N).” His mom spoke on his behalf. “Say hi, Kris.”

The boy looked at me expressionless, mumbling a muffled “Hi”. 

“Hi, Kris.” I was clearly the only one making an effort in our conversation.

“Should we just let them be?” Kris’s mom asked mine.

“Yeah, it’d be better. Please, come in. I just brewed coffee.” Mom got inside, with Kris’s mom following right behind her, leaving us alone, just staring at each other.

“So, what do you like to do?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged.

“Do you want me to braid your hair?”

Kris looked at me as if I suggested digging the ground for worms and eat them. “Why?”

“I like your hair. They are long and seem soft. You can do mine if you want.”

“Okay.”

So we spend all afternoon brushing, braiding, and decorating each other’s hair. He was better at that than I was, so I appointed him as my hair stylist indefinitely.

He kept his hair long for about 2 years more before the bullying started getting more intense, so he was forced to pretty much chop all of his beautiful hair off.

I was more devastated than he was because Kris liked having longer hair; he was happy, and he was only forced to cut his hair because of a bunch of truly awful kids. The bullying of his hair stopped once he cut it, but they always found other ways to be mean to him.

“Don’t worry about it, (Y/N). I’m totally okay with that.” I could tell he wasn’t. “Besides, I’ll be donating my hair and it’ll go to someone who actually needs it.” 

I couldn’t help but hug him tightly. Kris was such a sweet, pure soul. Always was, always will be.

Which was why I still wore the necklace he got me. In a sense, it was a reminder of him. I never felt like I always carried a residue of Kris with me. No, Kris was someone who imprinted on your soul and changed your life for the better, and you would still be left with valuable lessons, wisdom, and love from him - not residues.

“Well, you know him better than I do. But I am curious to meet him, should you ever go back and…I don’t know, want to take me with you?” She shrugged playfully, pursing her lips.

“So, I get to meet my ex and relive the pain, and you get to walk around Ljubljana and stalk your favorite band?”

Lena nodded enthusiastically. She looked as if she turned back into being a small kid every time she spoke about Joker Out.

“Well, if you put it like that, no. Ne, hvala. If I were to go back to Ljubljana, which I’m still unsure if I even want to, I wouldn’t meet up with him.”

“Why not? There’s no bad blood between you, right?”

“Not really. At least I don’t think there is. But I’m sure he moved on and he’s living his best life. Me suddenly going back after almost 8 years would ruin his stability. He liked stability. He liked to have everything under control and organized. I’m not going to be the one to tip off the scale and the balance in his life.”

Despite not feeling like eating anymore, I managed to finish up my coffee, which probably wasn’t a good idea, as I felt it sitting like a stone in my stomach. I needed the coffee boost, though, if I wanted to still be awake by 11 pm, or even later if we were to go out afterwards.

I excused myself and grabbed my bag to fix my makeup. I quickly did my business, and after meticulously washing my hands, I grabbed my makeup from my bag. In moments like these, I was glad I started using less makeup.

It was because of the pandemic that I stopped using as much makeup as I did before. Now, as long as I took care of my face, I was okay with going out only wearing concealer and blush for the base. My skin didn’t always look the best but what was the point? As if I knew already, I wore waterproof mascara - I always sweat a lot, and today was the kind of weather to make you sweat even if you walked around for just a minute.

I carefully wiped away the tiny bits of mascara from my undereye and started reapplying the concealer. I patted some extra eyeshadow on my eyelids - a light purple shadow with sparkles that I loved, because it was basically purple and shiny, what else did I need? I finished up with just a bit more mascara. I’d reapply my lipgloss later so I wouldn’t smear it all over if I wanted to drink water or something.

It was one of the few times I felt pretty enough to go out with minimal makeup. That was a rare occurrence lately, but, as long as I was satisfied with myself, I didn’t care about how I’d look in other people’s eyes. Well, also the fact that I’d probably sweat and I didn’t want to block my pores more than I did now. My outfit was also pretty nice.

Under the lilac oversized hoodie - which I took with me instead of a jacket because I knew it’d get chilly after the sunset - I was wearing a black see-through, long-sleeved blouse with black, shiny sequins placed here and there, and my fuchsia bra that was clearly visible - as I wanted it to be. 

Hvala bogu that it was pre-reveillon season, so blouses like this started appearing more and more in the shops. I actually had more than one option, which was surprising. I was wearing a tight but still elastic, black leather pair of trousers that I felt went in sync with the whole “concert vibe”. And, of course, my black leather boots to complete the outfit, because they were both comfortable and beautiful with their small studs around the laces.

I checked myself one last time before spritzing some of my perfume on me and walking out of the bathroom and back to our table. It was almost 4:30, so we paid and left to queue again. The cafe wasn’t far from the venue so we took our sweet time for those 650 meters’ distance. 

The neighborhood was beautiful and I briefly thought I could live around the area, if it wasn’t full of clubs, away from the uni, and pricey. By the time we arrived, the queue was too long and it went past the point one could decipher how many people actually queued. We walked to the front of the line, finding the other girls there.

“Hey, you’re back! Oh God, you smell so good!” One girl, whose name I couldn’t really remember, asked.

“Oh, thank you. My ex-boyfriend actually first got it for me when it first came out. Before we got together though. It’s been my favorite ever since. Makes me feel nice and all that. Last time they gave me small samples, so I carry them in my bag with me all the time.”

“Oh, that was nice of your ex. Were you friends back then or…?”

“Yeah. Best friends, actually. We got together like…about half a year after that? Totally unrelated events.”

“Is it true what they say? That if your partner gets you a cologne or perfume that you’ll break up sooner than later?”

“I really don’t know about that. We broke up because I left the country, not because of a perfume.” This was getting a bit awkward.

“Oh, is he from Slovenia then?”

“Yeah, he is actually.” Half actually, but it still counts. Kris had been living in Slovenia for the majority of his life, compared to how much time he had spent in the Netherlands.

“Maybe we should change the topic? I don’t think anyone’s really interested in talking about some guy from Slovenia, right?” Lena saved me this time. I mouthed a “Danke, Liebling” at her and smiled cutely.

We had about one to one and a half hours more until we started lining up properly. Until now, everyone was scattered between the street barricade and the venue wall. I wished time could go by faster, because, as much as I had slept and felt refreshed, waiting always killed me - not doing anything and just…waiting.

I had brought my power bank and charger with me, of course - I was always prepared in case I used up my phone’s battery. I was trying to find fun things to do to make time go by faster, but, as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t find anything to fully occupy my mind.

I thought it’d be a good idea to listen to some Joker Out songs before the concert - you know, to be prepared - but I decided against it. Listening to Slovenian music would only feed me with specific thoughts and delusions, and I wanted to stay as far away from them as I could. At least until I actually had to go into the concert hall.

I had a flash of thought that I actually had nowhere to go for the upcoming holidays. As much as my parents wanted us to spend Christmas and New Year’s together, I didn’t, which was why I hadn’t booked anything and left my schedule open for suggestions. Though I already knew that most of my friends and roommates would travel to their families.

On the other hand, Barcelona and the east of Spain weren’t bad at all, and it was still warm, which was great for me. So, I could easily just hop on a train or a bus and have small excursions during this time, which sounded great. I guess I could spend my time like that, organizing some small trips until I actually decided to go.

It was a pity that I was here for so long and I had never enjoyed the south of Spain. I really wanted to travel all over Andalucia; visit places like Sevilla and Malaga one day, but I had to commit to a plan and stick to it; otherwise, I would probably miss all the things I wanted to see and experience.

I started making a plan for my imaginary-hopefully-to-be-coming-true vacation in the south of the country. I found planning vacations fascinating, until I checked how much I’d have to pay, which was always out of my budget and I had to compromise. I always preferred comfort above everything, but, I suppose, I would have to make some budget cuts here and there for the sake of my bank account.

Last time I went on a vacation, I was with my family, and they paid for everything. It was about a month before I left for my master’s, and I was trying really hard to keep the balance between us. I basically said yes to everything because if I didn’t, they would most likely bother me with whatever they thought about me leaving.

My thoughts were interrupted by a series of screams nearby, as many girls turned around and started waving at someone. Lena noticed who it was and her eyes lit up.

“Is it the band?”

“No, no! It’s Mark! Their director-slash-videographer! I think he will take some videos. He is holding his camera. Wait a moment!” Lena walked towards the side where more and more girls were now crumbing up.

I hadn’t realized how much they loved the band’s crew. I thought it was just the band, but as more and more girls started gathering around the man, I imagined their fascination extended beyond the artists.

Lena came back a few minutes later, looking determined and kind of…cheeky? “Guess what?” She grinned.

“What?” I was kind of worried and scared as to why she could possibly be smiling like that.

“Mark wants to interview you! This is exciting!” She was clapping like a seal, and jumping up and down as if she ate too much sugar for her body to handle.

“Why? I don’t know anything about the band. I don’t even know who he is!”

“That’s okay. I told him. He just wants to speak with you and interview you a little bit.”

“I don’t know.” I felt my heart sink. “That’s not my thing, Lena.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be nearby and you can just ask him to cut it short, okay?”

“Okay… I guess…”

She took my hand and led me through the crowd of people until we reached Mark.

“Hi, Mark! This is my friend who I told you is from Slovenia.”

“Hi! I’m Mark. You must be (Y/N).”

“Hi! Yeah, I am. I don’t know what my friend told you, but I’m not really from Slovenia. And I have no idea who these guys are. So, I cannot tell you anything useful or relatable for the interview.”

“It’s okay, I’ll just ask you some random questions in English like you living there and such. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, okay, I guess.”

“Okay,...” He turned his camera towards me and switched it on, “...and go! So, I heard you had been living in Slovenia for many years. Tell me something about yourself.”

“So, hi, my name is (Y/N). I had been living in Slovenia for about a decade because my parents moved a lot for work. I had lived in Koper and Portorož for a few years, before moving to Ljubljana, and then we moved to my parents’ home country about 7 and a half years ago.”

“You told me you don’t know who Joker Out are. What made you come to this concert?”

“That’s true. It was my friend who actually forced me to come here with her.” I looked at Lena, laughing. “But I actually find it really cool that there is a band from such a small country like Slovenia that is becoming so beloved and so famous among people. I’ve seen it in the people waiting here today; how dedicated they are and how much they love Joker Out. Also, the fact that their songs are in Slovenian. It’s refreshing and it’s sweet that people realize the importance of embracing your own language and showing that to the world. Which was also why I eventually decided to come here with my friend.”

“As someone who has lived in a few places, and I assume who has heard a lot of different music, what is your favorite Slovenian band, besides Joker Out?”

“I really liked Big Foot Mama, I remember. I haven’t heard their music in years, but I liked it back then. And Gušti as well, of course.” Kris’s dad had always been a musical virtuoso for me.

“Okay, that was it. Thank you very much!” Mark hugged me with one arm, and patted my back, as I hugged him back. “Enjoy the show!” 

“Thank you very much!” 

We went back to the now slowly-forming queue. It was about 6:20 already - I hadn’t realized how quickly time passed - and the girls in the front were trying to organize everyone based on the numbers in our hands. It was a bit difficult as they were about 200 of us already, but I think they efficiently managed to put everyone in order in just 10-15 minutes.

I was getting more and more excited, despite not knowing the band or their songs. Was it my friend? The atmosphere? The interview? Was it because of all the stress, tiredness, and staying still for so long? I was getting more pumped up by the minute.

At some point, a tall guy named Josh - the only guy I met and talked to so far today - patted my shoulder and pointed towards the other end of the road, speechless. I turned around to see a group of people walking towards us, and as they got closer, more and more people noticed them and started screaming and waving at them. This must be the band.

From my side of the queue, I barely noticed two people: one blonde guy and one with chocolate-like hair. They looked excited and waved and sent kisses. Well, I see now why people are obsessed with them. These guys are stunning! If they play half as good as they look, it was going to be an amazing night!

“Now you see why I like them so much?” Lena whispered-yelled in my ear.

“Yeah I do. If I knew, I’d come to more of their concerts with you.”

“Well, they already announced their new tour for next year, so you don’t have an excuse now. We’re going again!”

“Let’s see if they’re any good first.”

“Oh, they are good! They are really good!” I hadn’t seen her more excited than she was now, and she had been through many waves of excitement today already.

“I’m not gonna tell you that you sound like that Demi Lovato meme, ‘cause I’ll never hear the end of it.” I grinned at her.

6:45. The waiting was killing me. Now that I got a small taste of them, I was really curious how they were like on stage. I made the conscious decision to not search for them or look up the music. I admit that I wasn’t too excited to wake up so early in the morning for a band I didn’t know, but as time passed, I slowly got everyone’s vibes and felt myself.

“So, (Y/N),...,” Lena got my attention, “...it seems that we’re going to be at the barricade, so just follow me inside. I want to get to Kris’s side, as many others do, so we have to be quick. Once we get our tickets checked, we run if we need to run, okay?”

“Kris’s side? I have no idea what you mean.”

“Kris is my favourite, and I want, no, I need to be in front of him. As we get into the venue, he’ll be on the left side of the stage. That’s where we need to go. I’ll grab your hand if needed, but we will make barricade!”

“Okay, just don’t push anyone, okay?”

“No, no, of course not. I would never want to hurt anyone. But keep in mind that you may be pushed or hit by someone as the crowd gets bigger. And as we get closer and closer to the start of the show, people may push to get closer to the front. So, just be aware and careful, okay? There are always some people who get out of line.”

I nodded, though I was a bit terrified at what she said. I saw what happens in other artists’ concerts, but I wouldn’t personally expect such a behaviour from fans who are mostly still in their teens or early adulthood. Nevertheless, I kept a mental note to stay away if anything like that went down.

It was around 7 when we started moving. Supposedly, they allowed us to go through the gate, closer to the staircase we had to walk up to get to the venue. I guess that was helpful for the people in the back, because the farther you got back towards the end of the line, the more crowded it became.

“(Y/N)?” Lena whispered close to my ear.

“What?”

“I have to go to the toilet! I need to pee!”

“Now? We have like…20 minutes to get inside?! What are we gonna do? Will you even make it on time?”

“Well, I can wait and go to the toilet inside, wherever that is, or I can run to a store nearby and go there.”

“Okay, but you have to run-run! You have to pass the barricade, run, find some place to go, run back, and go through the barricade again. Will you even make it?”

“I hope so. If anything happens, call me.” She was as panicked as I suddenly was, but she literally sprinted once she managed to get out of the designated barricades that were placed to contain our queue.

I was constantly looking at the time in my phone, worrying she won’t make it on time. And I didn’t want to be on my own during the concert. I tried to distract myself by looking randomly around.

Up the stairs, there were people who looked like they were the band’s crew, taking pictures, smoking, and talking. I saw some others from the queue also noticed them, and started waving at them, and I confirmed that it was the crew because people seemed to know who they were.

Some people in front of me, as well as behind me, started talking about their previous concerts, or what they were going to do during specific songs, or wondering how the guys would be dressed like this time.

7:23. Just 7 minutes left until they let us go upstairs, and I was getting worried Lena wouldn’t make it on time. I was about to call her when I saw her running towards the queue, stumbling to pass the barricade but thankfully not falling, showing the others her queue number, and walking through the crowd until she reached me.

“Well, that was quick.”

She struggled to take deep breaths, still breathing quickly from all the running. “I-I-I don’t… even know… how I made… it, but-but I did.” She was still out of breath, trying to cool down as sweat was running down her face, but at least, she made it on time. It would have been a bummer for both of us - but especially her - if we waited all these hours, just for her to end up last inside the venue.

I saw someone who seemed like he was working in the venue come by us, and open the line, waving us to move forward. The people in front of me started walking up by the stairs, but they were jogging at some point, so I knew we’d have to run a bit faster up the stairs. Half way through, a lady was inspecting the bags some people had with them as gifts for the guys.

We reached the door where we’d check our tickets, and, thankfully, Lena was the one who had both of tickets in her phone because I was lost for a few seconds, not realizing we were about to actually get in the concert venue after all these hours.

She grabbed my hand, and basically dragged me along, as she ran towards the front of the stage. Once we reached the front row, she let go of my hand, and practically hugged the barricade, as if someone would pull her away. I wanted to laugh at her reactions, but she had gone through enough stress within half an hour to be made fun of.

The show would start at 20:50 - that’s what the email they sent said, but, in the meantime, they played some random songs on the speakers to keep the mood and the vibes high. Between ABBA, Avril Lavigne, and Lady Gaga, I was getting more and more pumped for the show. I didn’t expect such songs from an all-guys band, and it was a pleasant surprise.

As the venue got fuller and fuller, I thought we were lucky enough to be in front row, thinking that that was basically the main reason so many people were queueing for such long hours - to get as close to the stage as they could.

It was getting hotter and hotter inside the venue, given the people and the lights in front of us, and it was time for me to finally get rid of my hoodie. Outside it wasn’t that cold or hot, so it turned out to be perfect. I thought of bringing a puffy jacket but Lena talked me out of it. And thank God she did, because the hoodie took so much less space on top of the barricade compared to a puffy jacket.

It drove me a bit anxious to just wait and wait - I always needed to do or think about something to occupy my brain, but at that moment, I had better relax, enjoy the music, the atmosphere, and calm down for the show that was to start in 50 minutes, according to my phone.

“(Y/N)?” Lena called me from the floor where she had practically laid by now, probably still tired of standing and running.

“Mhm?” 

“Are you okay? You seem more nervous than I am.”

“No, no. I’m good. I’m just anxious. I’ve never been front row in any concert. Or in a concert after the pandemic actually. I just…find it weird and awkward standing around, doing nothing but waiting.”

“Oh, you’ll get used to it. You won’t even care once they come on stage. Just like I won’t feel the pain on my feet.” She grimaced as she tried to massage her legs but probably doing nothing at all.

I swung a bit to the songs still blasting from the speakers. Whoever put these songs had taste. It was getting less and less awkward to enjoy the song break before the concert because, looking around me, more and more people were also dancing along.

I forced myself to not touch my phone and wait for the band to come on stage. I wanted to distract myself and make the time pass by faster, but I didn’t want to seem antisocial. I was pretty sure that that’s what people thought already.

I felt an unexpected tap on my shoulder and turned out to see a girl with dark brown hair, just a little under her shoulders. “Hey, are you the girl from Slovenia who’s seeing Joker Out for the first time?”

I guess nobody got the ‘I’m not actually from Slovenia’ part. “Yeah... It’s my friend’s first time as well,...” I pointed to Lena still laying on the floor, “...though she’s an actual fan. I’m just here for support and company.”

“That’s sweet of you. You will have an amazing time. Everyone is so nice and it’s a unique experience.”

We kept talking for a little while about our lives in general. At some point, 2 others joined in our conversation and we kept making jokes, though most of them were fandom-specific so I didn’t get them, but they had no issue of explaining them for me.

For example, I didn’t know the band was practically stuck in Munich at the beginning of this week because of the terrible snowstorms in Central Europe and had to reschedule their flights again and again, and spend so much money on transportation.

I had a friend who I met in uni who moved to Hamburg a few months ago and she told me that they couldn’t get out of their house, but I had no idea it was that bad in South Germany as well. 

Here, it was so sunny and warm one would think it was still September or barely October. That was mostly the reason I chose Spain over other countries. Yes, Central Europe is supposed to be more organised and methodised than southern Europe.

But I valued good weather and good food above the “strict” organisation because I grew up to enjoy the joy that came with being close to the sea and having the opportunity to experience that even in the winter. Slovenia wasn’t the warmest during that time, but the proximity to the sea always brought me immense peace.

I came here without knowing a word - even my adequate knowledge of Italian couldn’t fully help me understand the everyday conversations. But I saw that as a challenge and a chance for personal development so I took that step and I was happy I did.

Screams started echoing through the venue and I only then realised the music had stopped, the lights were switched off, and people started shouting “have fun, guys!” and “enjoy”. It was heartwarming that they felt like we were a big group of friends, enjoying a concert all together.

Some stage lights started shining bright red, and then revolving white lights went on and off as the first instrumentals were heard. People started screaming enthusiastically here and there, as a “welcome” was heard. I thought someone would show up but no one did.

The crowd started shouting “ey, ey, ey!” and Lena and I joined them as the bright white lights lit up the whole stage. I couldn’t help but scream along when I finally saw the band walk on stage. They had some magical element or extreme charisma - I couldn’t tell which of the two, and, despite not knowing them, I couldn’t stop myself from getting too excited seeing them in front of me.

They weren’t soppy or boring; they started dynamic and powerful. Indie rock music blasted through the venue as the crowd started screaming the lyrics of the songs they probably knew by heart now.

I remembered a girl in the queue telling me what was supposed to be the order of the songs, as the fans had already pieced together the order from watching previous concerts’ live videos or attending the concerts themselves. First it was ‘Sunny Side of London’ which was their only English song they sang live.

I noticed the two guys I saw earlier - Jure and Nace, if I remembered correctly. Jure was behind the drums and Nace was farther right from me, playing what seemed like a bass. Looking closely and trying to piece the others’ roles on stage, with very little help from the blinding lights, I almost choked and felt like my heart dropped when I took a better look at each one of them.

I nearly choked because I realized what I was dreading all day; what I didn’t want to hear or see. The guitarist in front of me - the reason why Lena led me to this side of the stage - was actually Kris, THE Kris. My ex boyfriend Kris. On stage. Right in front of me.

Not only Kris though. Taking another look at them, I realized that the singer in the middle of the stage was Bojan, and Jan was on the other end of Kris, on the right side of the stage, also playing guitar by Nace’s side. They had all changed so much and yet they looked exactly like they did 8 years ago.

I was feeling so numb in my mind, my arms, my legs. I hadn’t seen Kris - or any of them, for that matter - since I left, and now Kris was in front of me…playing guitar…in a famous band…where my - ex - friends were also playing…and people were going crazy over them. And Lena, my friend, was a Kris girlie, going crazy over my ex boyfriend. Oh, no…

I felt my cheeks burning and I was getting dizzy. It was already hot in here, but it was also the fact that Kris was literally standing like less than 2 meters away from me at most. I was probably the only one around who was feeling anxious, instead of ecstatic.

I wanted to hold onto the barricade for support, but I assumed that it would fall down. I also couldn’t hold on to Lena, because 1) I didn’t think she could fully support me, and 2) I would have to tell her why I was hyperventilating with no reason - I wasn’t a fan after all, right? I cound only bend down for a minute to calm myself and assess the situation, but also hide myself for a bit.

Thankfully, Kris was not just standing still, but he was moving around, lost in the song. I had to say he grew up to be beyond beautiful, and I evidently could not take my eyes off of him. Besides that, his guitar skills had improved to another level. He was always skillful and a fast learner, but the way he played now was out of this world.

Kris was dancing and shaking his hips at that point, feeling one with the song. He was no longer the shy, tall kid but a confident, tall man who was not ashamed to show off his fun side; the one he used to hide from people he didn’t know well. Slowly, I stood back up again, unable to not get mesmerized by his existence.

At some point, the bassist, Nace, came in front of us, kneeling with open legs, and I couldn’t take my eyes off of him, shocked at the intensity of the dom energy he exuded. Everyone screamed at ‘scream as loud as you can’ and I screamed along, taken along by the funky energy of the song and the crowd.

The guys were all engaging with the crowd in one way or another, making everything seem and feel like more than a concert; rather, a secret gathering for a few, special people.

I may have not known their songs, but that did not stop me from slowly getting lost in them. As the songs switched to Slovenian, I was quite surprised that I still understood the words as if Slovenian was my first language. I was afraid at one point that I forgot to speak or understand the language, but today proved me that I hadn’t.

The songs sounded nostalgic, but also kind of cheeky which wasn’t something I wouldn’t have expected from Bojan, Jan, and Kris. I knew what kind of people they were; that’s why we were best friends.

Kris would rock himself to the other side of the stage, towards Nace, who noticed him as he starting moving towards him, with Kris now walking backwards, back to his original position, where they both stayed for a few minutes. That happened quite a few times through the setlist.

There was something extremely sensual happening between them, whether intentional or not, and I couldn’t keep my eyes off of what was unfolding in front of me. 

The energy around the venue was electric from the very beginning, and I felt myself moving my hips, arms and hands around, becoming one with the rest of the concert-goers. Some times, I would stop to take a photo or a small video to remember these moments by.

When one song finished, another one, more dynamic and intense, started. Kris was moving forward towards the first row, and then walking towards the back of the stage. Again and again and again.

I doubted he ever saw me as the lights were moving too quickly to focus on anyone’s face. I also had no idea what someone could see from up there, so I could also be wrong.

For some reason, every song was hitting home for me. It felt like I was there when they were written because they held something eeriely familiar in them.

At some point, someone threw the Spanish flag at Bojan and he caught it and wrapped it around himself. He seemed to have too much fun on stage; a true entertainer as he always was. He danced, squatted as if he was in a pole, and made everything to drive the crowd crazy.

Unfortunately, by the end of ‘Bele Sanje’, Kris seemed to have broken a guitar string, so Bojan took a few minutes to talk and engage with the crowd. I tried to look anywhere else but the guys, feeling uncomfortable with the idea that one of them could notice me under the now lit stage.

It was funny though when he started rapping. I could barely make out what he was saying, but it something along the lines of ‘it started with a song’, ‘the name of the game in Barcelona tonight’, and ‘don’t wanna play glass(?) guitar all of the time’. I had no idea what he meant but I assumed he was buying some time as Kris was trying to tune his new guitar.

If I remember correctly, ‘Plastika’ was next and it sounded more fun and exciting than I was expecting. I let a stifled laughter at Bojan’s ‘pa štiriindvajset jih imam šele’. Almost petindvajset, buddy. Less than a month away actually.

I didn’t remember Bojan ever having an issue with his age, but based on the song, the gray tuft of hair that was visible even after the changing lights, and the desperation that his voice held, I assumed it had become an issue for him growing up.

The instrumental solos part was amazing, as I could hear the deep bass and the intense drumming giving the rhythm to both the guitars and the crowd. Everything sounded too professional; way better than how they used to play when they were younger.

The ending and the transition to the next song took my breath away, as every light shined on Jan now and it was his time to steal the show with his intense guitar opening. Bojan was doing his own little thing on stage - dancing around and moving his hands as if he was banging drums, until he had to sing.

I realized that every song was too personal to Bojan. Just like ‘Proti Toku’ said, he always tried - at least - to ‘go against the current’, to stand out from the crowd in any way possible. He was charismatic in his way but that was never enough for him. He wanted to make the others laugh with his goofiness; to make people like him.

Just like now, where he started reciting the ‘Ko se srečamo prepozno, Ko se ustavi naš se sistem, Vam bo jasno kaj me vleče, Da proti toku grem’ lyrics on the mic, as if he was making an airplane announcement, sounding muffled on purpose.

Kris barely looked towards the crowd at any time or point during any song, and it made sense because even if he did, he wouldn’t be able to see anyone in particular. The dark blue lights shined behind him, making his face unreadable for anyone even near enough to see him.

Even when the lighting changed to a brighter one, he was too busy dancing-kicking his long legs on stage and looking at Nace, who came by his side a minute ago, to notice or acknowledge anyone else.

Before I managed to process this song, another started, this time with more bass and drums than the one before. I saw a shiny object suddenly land on stage near Kris’s feet, and he bent over to catch the shiny, wrapped object, dancing his way to set it aside for later.

‘Zame, si čisti dopamin, vzameš, še bolj si te želim,’ sang Bojan, and Kris, along with the crowd, and I could only think of the endless nights we spent with Kris, him whispering sweet nothings in my ear for me to fall asleep. He always had a way with his words when it came to the ones he loved and cared about.

I closed my eyes, getting lost in the song, and mentally transferring my mind back then, when things were easier, and I was happier. His guitar solo made my eyes open abruptly. It was the most beautiful thing I had heard, and Kris was swaying from one leg to the other while playing, moving his pelvis around with the guitar, and being the hottest sight I had seen so far.

My eyes were on him once again. Even his backing vocals were mesmerizing, and I didn’t care about any of the other guys for now. Kris had my absolute attention with the way he rocked his body around.

As the song ended, Kris moved to the back and someone from the crew assisted him with removing his electric guitar and wearing the strap of an acoustic guitar. Despite loving the crisp sound of an electric guitar, the thought of the acoustic one filled my body with goosebumps.

Once again, Bojan tried to buy time in between that transition by making the crowd sing the Barca anthem. Not everyone knew Catalan - or even Spanish - because most of the people here did not come from Spain or Catalunya.

However, Barca was my favourite ‘Spanish’ football club even before I moved out of Slovenia, and I had learned the anthem, hoping to go to Camp Nou and sing it there. Which I did when I finally moved and settled down in Barcelona.

I was so excited I finally knew some lyrics I could “contribute” to the concert that I hadn’t realized I got too excited, shouting and clapping, managing to not only get the attention of Bojan who was already on the edge of the stage, but also Jan who was standing at the right side, having a water break.

Kris did not notice a thing, playing a few chords on his acoustic guitar behind Nace’s stand, while Bojan was trying to shoosh him so he could hear the crowd.

Thankfully, Bojan smiled at me, not quite realizing who he had just seen, but Jan’s mouth was slightly open now, looking slightly shocked towards my side, as if his mind was suddenly working a hundred miles per hour, trying to piece things together.

I was looking back at him with probably the same shocked look, my heart thumping loudly, as he took Kris aside and whispered something to him.

I couldn’t even look at Jan’s lips at that distance, so I had no idea what they were talking about, but I understood, when Kris turned his head around, looking around the crowd until his eyes landed on me.

I felt my cheeks burning up and my eyes and nostrils starting to sting under his shocked and intense stare. It was as if all the stage lights suddenly fell on me, and I was put in the center of everyone’s attention. Bojan, still unaware of the situation, brought everyone back to reality for the next song.

The next few songs went by excruciatingly slow, changing the mood from sad and desperate to dark and energetic. Kris wasn’t really his previous self - the young boy who was having fun, playing and dancing on stage now looked miserable out of the blue.

Maybe it was because the song that followed wasn’t the happiest or most positive one, but Kris seemed to be in his own little world, and I was worried for him as he seemed to miss a few chords then and there, as pointed by a few fans around me.

He was looking between his feet and me, not knowing how to react. He looked frozen, mouth agape and eyes lost somewhere, and I was worried. Even when I could hear and feel Lena squealing beside me, and the crowd roaring, when Bojan growled at the mic during ‘Demoni’, Kris was expressionless.

When the next song began, Bojan gave a signal to the others to keep on playing the instrumental parts a bit, as he moved towards Kris, looking worried but trying not to show it to the fans. He whispered something in Kris’s ear, and he must have told him what was happening, because Bojan, not being the discreet kid of guy, jerked his head to look at me.

Now, they were both staring, paler than before, and speechless, getting unnecessary attention from the fans who noticed. I was feeling my heart skipping a few beats and my mouth getting dry. Under no circumstances did I want to cause such reactions and disturbance to them.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Lena tapped my shoulder once, “what is going on? Why are they staring at you? Are you in trouble? Are we in trouble?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. We’ll see.”

I looked back at them, trying to mentally communicate to them that they needed to stop because people were noticing something wasn’t okay. Bojan gulped and nodded slightly, walking back to the mic. The show must go on anyway.

Bojan went rather quickly back to his dancing, energetic, and entertaining self, but Kris was now staring at me a lot. He looked at me in the eyes as he sang to mic ‘Pozabi me, Kakor, da me sploh ni tu, Izrabi me, Ko strah prevlada v snu’, before coming on the edge of the stage, kneeling on both knees, legs open, yelling ‘Povej mi, Katrina, me sploh rada imaš? Nazaj se ti vračam, da me spet izigraš’.

I felt my cheeks burning at the sudden attention. I thought he was going to keep things private and subtle, but his actions showed the exact opposite…? I was getting mixed signals. Did he want me there? Did he not? Was he shocked and now he was cool? Why did he come to the front? Why did he shout all these lyrics while looking at me?

He walked back to the mic, as Nace came by his side, and they started to sing together on his mic, but everytime Kris sang, he turned his gaze at me, partly hidden behind his hair falling in front of his eyes.

I felt all the emotions I had for Kris wash over me when ‘A Sem Ti Povedal’ started, after a quick ‘Hola Barcelona’ and a quitar solo from Jan. Kris was looking ethereal in front of the stage lights. He was swinging a lit, but nothing as expressive as before.

“Šepetaj mi kok' me hočeš, Ugrizn' preden se odločš', dokler mi srce ne poč', dokler ne ugasne noč”, and my mind quickly went back to a cold night when two clueless teenagers loved each other with so much passion and pureness it would put the others to shame.

Kris stared at me the way I stared at him, breathless, attention never waving off of each other.

Then came ‘Metulji’, and Kris kept his eyes closed the whole time, only moving his head around. He looked tortured, as if he’d burst into tears the moment he opened them. Even when he had to sing on the mic, he kept them closed, barely opening them a few seconds at a time.

When the song ended, a bright red-orange light fell on Jan, as he slowly started playing Spain’s entry song for Eurovision this year - the only song I heard before, mostly on the radio.

Kris stayed at the back of the stage. I could only look at Jan at that time, not only because it was his moment, but also because I wasn’t brave enough to look Kris in the eyes, in that moment of inaction. Not that Jan himself didn’t look amazing, but my brain was still fixed on Kris.

“So,” Bojan spoke into the mic, “this next song is a very special one for our Kris. He wrote it many years ago for an ex-girlfriend who left.” Booing and shouting came from the crowd, and I felt judged and attacked but it was justified to some extent.

“She had to leave the country,” Bojan continued, “because her parents forced her to. They were both young and couldn’t do anything about it. So, she left and our dear Kris had to be on his own. That was before Joker Out. A few years later, he wrote the song. This is ‘Vse Kar Vem’.”

This song was literally what I - what we went through. Kris was singing at the mic, taken away by the song. His eyes were lost somewhere, but he still looked mesmerizing. Once he started looking directly at me, I couldn’t stop looking back at him.

“Slišal sem, da hočeš it do konca sveta, in da me več ne rabiš za sopotnika”.

Only thing was I wanted him to come with me, if I couldn’t stay back with him. Because I didn’t feel pain when I was in his arms. Because I didn’t care about what I was right or wrong when I was with him. Because I didn’t care about anything in the world when we were together.

And that’s when I broke into tears. I shut my mouth with both hands to stop the sob, but my body still trembled through the song. Kris started to look worried, and he walked forward, leaning down, and carefully sliding off the stage - all while he continued playing.

He leaned towards me. “Are you okay?”

I could only nod, not trusting myself with a single word.

He nodded back at me, but stayed in front of me, playing and singing “A vse kar vem in kar znam je da ne boli, ko me tvoj objem zakriva. Kaj je prav me ne bremeni, ker s tabo svet ne izpodriva me.”

Once the song ended, Kris pulled me towards him, wrapping his arms around me as best as he could with his guitar still hanging on him, and burying his head in the crook of my neck. I was still trembling - mostly from the shock now, as I eventually hugged him back.

He ran his hands up and down my back in a comforting way and only whispered “We need to talk after that”, before pulling away and eventually managing to get back up on stage.

The crowd was roaring the whole time, and Kris tried to look like there was nothing going on as Bojan was staring at him like he was telling him ‘what the hell did you just do?’. He looked back at me but my head was numb and my face was probably so blank to the point where Bojan didn’t spare another minute on what had just happened.

Thankfully, someone from the audience threw a bi pride flag at Bojan at that moment, so everyone seemed to quickly forget - or rather ignore - what happened a few minutes ago and went on to enjoying the show.

‘Barve Oceana’ was next; a song that reminded me of summer but also of a little girl with dreams and hopes who tried to make something for herself, despite the big hole still left inside her soul. 

“Našla se bo tam, kjer nihče je ne pozna. Tam, kjer cesta vedno nosi, vonj svežega dežja.” It was an elevating song, and Jure’s drumming gave it a new dimension where you could see people around dancing together in a synchronized choreography.

The ending of the song was met with applause and screams, which soon turned into more screams and people shouting “Kris! Kris!” as the melody of the next song started playing. Kris walked shyly towards the mic, but also holding some dose of confidence, and like he knew he sort of controlled the audience at that point. 

He started singing and the audience sang along. He sang beautifully - which I already knew before, but I could never imagine the shy boy who never wished to sing or even play the guitar in front of so many people doing just that, and being successful at it. He playfully hopped around in between singing, making everyone go crazy over him as if he even had to try.

After that, he switched places with Bojan, and continued with the backing vocals, catching all the high notes and moving his hips at the same time. Kris started feeling like himself again; full of liveliness, confidence, and charm - the Kris I was lucky to see at some point in my life before, as he kept dancing around the stage with Nace.

Next was “Vem Da Greš” and I knew it’d hit me in my feels. People started clapping along with Bojan, giving rhythm to the song. It was beautifully touching, and I found myself tearing up again. 

That was until Kris, crouching down and supporting himself on one knee, tried to pull a cool move, making his guitar fall but still trying to play it cool. I couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh, making Kris smile widely at me. Did he do it on purpose? I didn’t know if he blushed but I wouldn’t be surprised if he did - he already looked way too cute.

“Omamljeno Telo” was too fun and musically way more dynamic than “Vem”. I kept looking between Kris and Nace in front of me and barely noticed the moment Bojan literally spit a fountain of water over Jan and onto the crowd. I laughed so hard at that, as Bojan smiled cheekily at Jan, who seemed pretty glad to avoid getting showered by Bojan’s spit.

As another song began, Bojan turned to Jure behind the drumset, as it was time for the drummer to shine. And shine he did. Someone screamed “Daddy Jure!”, and I couldn’t agree more. Jure was a beast in drums, banging hard as his bandmates gathered around him, rocking along with him.

Bojan, on the other hand, was his usual “drama queen”, though not as much as he was in “Plastika”. And certainly not as much as Jan, who decided to lay on the ground, ass facing the crowd.

As the next song began, Bojan wrapped himself with a pride flag someone had thrown in front of him. Turned out that “Ona” was a Serbian song, probably Bojan’s homage to his parents’ country. I knew enough Serbian to understand that was a song full of regrets and memories of an old lover.

It was also at that point that Lena took her sign out - the sign she briefly mentioned the previous day - and held it high for Bojan to see. It said, “BOJAN CAN I SING ONA WITH YOU?” She hoped she could because she told me nobody was given the mic to sing it before.

But Bojan walked in front of us, saw the sign, bent, and sang “Kazu…” before giving Lena the mic to continue “...vreme leči rane sve, Al' ne kažu koliko da se odviknem od nje. Godina je prošla, još vraća se u san. Vrti kao film sećanje na onaj dan.”

In the meantime, Bojan fell down dramatically, holding his fists in front of his heart, kneeling, and turning his pointer finger in circles near his head as if to resemble a film tape turning. I was just as shook as Lena, and after she gave him the mic back, he bowed thanking her. 

She was practically screaming on the mic but it was such an amazing moment for her and Bojan, and me as well. I felt so proud of her and couldn’t believe she managed to get the mic and sing, just as she hoped.

I thought nothing could top that, but then Bojan started talking to the audience. He said he wanted to teach us two things necessary for the next song: “Anata ga suki” which meant “I like you”, and “Watashi mo” which meant “Me too”. The crowd already seemed to know the phrases by now, as they screamed them before he even could.

The most fun and dancy rhythm started playing, and I was instantly transferred with my mind to the blooming streets of Tokyo, probably somewhere around the 80s. Everyone in the crowd started dancing and cheering, as Jan and Nace were doing their own little choreography at the other end of the stage.

But, as much fun as it sounded, the song was about two lovers who lived through these happy moments, only to never see or communicate with each other again. It seemed to be a pattern of Joker Out I came to realize - songs that sound happy but with tragically sad lyrics.

The music changed to an equally dancy song that I remembered as “Umazane Misli”. Fitting, in my opinion, for Bojan and Jan, sometimes Kris, too. The trio had always been pretty dirty-thinking, so much so that it came out as pretty cringey most of the time. Kris was the only one who, somehow, managed to remain mostly serious in general.

The song itself wasn’t as dirty-thinking as the title suggested; it had some romantic notions if you asked me. And above all, it was fun, making you wanna dance whether you knew the song or not.

At some point, Bojan started giving the mic around for people to sing either in their own language or Slovenian. The lyrics seemed pretty easy and they were the romantic part I liked in the song.

“Thank you. This is the only karaoke song we have, so welcome to the karaoke show.” Bojan talked to the mic, as the crowd roared. “We have some people holding the karteles. Okay, we’re gonna hear Greek Umazane Misli; Finnish Umazane Misli; another Catalan Umazane Misli; English, probably, or Slovene Umazane Misli from Liverpool; another Slovene…“surprise?” Umazane Misli; y tortillas de patatas cebolla, sí o no?”

It was immensely cool to hear all those people singing in their own languages; all gathered here for a Slovenian band; all making an effort to learn the lyrics and/or even translate them in their own language. 

After some people sang, Bojan came in front of us and was about to give the mic to Lena, who I hadn’t noticed was holding up another, smaller this time, paper sign. Instead, she pointed at me, and I felt my face burning from embarrassment when I realized what was happening.

“Lena, no!”

“But that’s the surprise! You got the lyrics, right?” I nodded. “So, you’re singing.”

I looked back at Bojan, who was still waiting as the others kept playing. I looked at Kris who was looking back at me, waiting for something to happen. I took a deep, shaky breath, trying not to think of all those people I didn’t know around me.

“Okay, yeah! Let’s go!”

Bojan smiled before handing me the mic. “Wait. I’ll tell you when, okay?”

I nodded and waited, as both Bojan and I were waiting for my entry point. Bojan signaled and I went into the song.

“Sanje so tvojega okusa

Jutro po tebi mi diši

Kompas več me ne posluša

Moja izgubljena duša

Išče le v smeri kjer si ti.”

I was looking at Kris the whole time, not really realizing everyone and Bojan cheering, or Jan walking towards this side of the stage, with Nace following right behind him. Kris was smirking intensely - like a sort of proud smile, and I felt like I was making him proud.

Singing in front of him reminded me of the small music sessions we had with Kris when he first started learning guitar - him playing and me watching him mesmerized. Sometimes, he’d ask me to sing something for him to play, but that was just between us, because he knew I was terrified of singing in front of others.

Now, it was in front of way more people than just th two of us, and it was overwhelming, though exhilarating as well. I gave the mic back to Bojan, still shaking.

“Wow! Give it up for (Y/N), our friend from Slovenia!” Bojan shouted and everyone cheered.

Lena turned around to look at me funny. “Friend?!”

“Yeah… But, in my defense, I didn’t know who they were when you asked me to come here. I left before they even formed the band.”

Lena was speechless, trying to enjoy the rest of the concert but also shook at the revelation. I was checking her to see if she was okay, but her face was suddenly expressionless, like she wasn’t really there but her mind was making all these calculations and combinations of thoughts. Oh, fuck…

For the next song, Jure came to the front of the stage, Nace left his bass behind, and it was only Kris, and occasionally Jan, playing as Bojan sang. A song about a generation of love and hope; about people rebelling to change the world; about making mistakes but it being okay because that’s life.

If one didn’t get it before, they would now. Joker Out wasn’t just a band, and this wasn’t just a concert. It was an experience; a safe space; somewhere where anyone - no matter who they were - could feel included and heard; through the songs, through the band.

The song ended with cheers and tears in people’s eyes. I wasn’t gonna lie - I teared up too. It was a bittersweet song, but, at the same time, hopeful and it hit you right in the feels.

“So, this is usually the part where we leave the stage and you shout for us to come back. So, let’s pretend we left and we came back.” People screamed as if they really left and came back. “In all seriousness, thank you for believing we’re more than those 2 minutes and 47 seconds. This is Carpe Diem. Are…you…readyyyyy?”

I screamed along with the crowd, though I had no idea what the song or the lyrics were. But it happened to be the song that literally everyone was singing along with Bojan, and they were jumping and dancing. And even when Bojan told us all to lay lower - I didn’t expect a physical activity in a concert - they all listened and stood low, either squatting or on their knees.

Kris, just like the rest of the band apart from Jure, got on his knees, and, despite me also being on my knees, it felt like we were at a closer distance now than before - probably because he was on the stage and already almost 2 meters tall and the distance made him look huge in my eyes.

It was so fun and funny when we all jumped at “Mi bolo celo noč plesali”. Everything felt like a party. Towards the end of the song, everyone gathered up front and, instead of Bojan singing the last lyric that the crowd sang, he stopped and said:

“Thank you so much. Molto gracias. Muchas gracias. We love you. Take care of each other, guys. But, mostly guys, only find place for love in your hearts.”

Then, they bowed before us, and did little hearts with both hands, and I could feel the immense appreciation they had for their fans. I couldn’t help but scream and clap loudly. Apart from the understandable awkwardness, the show was so fun and energizing.

“Thank you so much. We were really pretending that we don’t wanna do this before, when we said we’re gonna skip the whole thing.” Bojan joked and people started shouting “No!” here and there.

“Okay, now, here’s the deal. We’re gonna do one last song and we want you to do us a favor: when we ask you, we want you to scream as loud as you can.” The crowd screamed as a confirmation. “And you can cover your ears so you don’t hurt them, okay?” The crowd roared again.

The final song was “Sunny Side of London” again, but this time it was more energizing and exciting as the night came to an end, and everyone was screaming louder than they did at the beginning. There was a bittersweet feeling as we sang along the very last minutes of the show, mixed with the adrenaline pumping through us.

Unfortunately, the song soon ended and along with it, the whole show, as the guys finally waved and sent kisses to the crowd, walking off the stage and back to their dressing rooms. 

I thought it was over and I’d leave in peace, but before leaving the stage, Kris signaled me towards the backstage. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t just go backstage without a pass or being accompanied by someone from the band or the crew.

I waited a few minutes, looking between an excited Lena and the empty stage in front of us, before the club’s security guard asked us to leave the premises. We turned around, walking towards the exit, before I felt a couple taps on my back.

Turning around, I saw a sweet-looking, dark-haired woman smiling at us. She was about one and half heads shorter than me, but she had such a powerful aura and she looked so beautiful and cute. She was also wearing a black “Joker Out Crew” t-shirt.

“Hey, you’re (Y/N), right?”

“Yeah? Is everything okay? Uhm…”

“Oh, sorry, I’m Vita.” The woman extended her hand in a handshake. Her hand was soft and warm. “Kris asked me to help you backstage, since you won’t be allowed any other way.”

I looked at Lena, who was smiling widely looking at Vita, and I should have known by now she knew who the woman was.

“Uhm, can my friend come as well? She brought me here, and I can’t leave her on her own.”

“I’m sure there’ll be no problem. Follow me, please.”

The woman led us towards the left side of the room, now empty of people, apart from some people from the crew and the club walking back and forth, gathering up equipment.

My heart was thumping loudly in my chest, and I felt my hands and eyes twitching from the sudden nervousness. I was just seconds away from seeing Kris face to face after so many years and actually - hopefully - talking to him.

“(Y/N)?” Vita turned around.

“Yeah?”

“That’s the lounge room.” She showed us a closed door. “The guys should all be gathered here to see you. They don’t know about your friend, but I don’t think they’ll mind. In the meantime, would you like me to bring you some water or something else? There should already be some bottles inside, but if you need something, just let me know, okay?”

“Yeah, thank you, Vita. Don’t worry. Water is fine.”

“Okay, let me inform the guys really quick.” She knocked on the door, and, after a voice called, she entered the room, letting the guys know we were there, before calling us in and exiting the room, closing the door behind her. Everyone was still in their performance outfits.

“(Y/N)!” Bojan was the first one to call me, smiling widely, and jumping towards me, giving me a tight hug, and rocking me around. He seemed genuinely happy to see me, despite the previous shock when he saw me back on the show.

“Hey, Bojči. How are you?”

“Really happy to see you. It’s been too long, (Y/N).”

“I know. I’m sorry about that.”

He let me go and turned to Lena, introducing himself - as if she didn’t know who he was - and hugging her. Lena was too excited, practically a spring in human form by now - kinda like Bojan, to be honest.

I turned around to be greeted by Jan, in a similar way as Bojan; with a tight hug, but, thankfully, Jan only caressed my back instead of shaking me from side to side.

“Hi, (Y/N/N). Missed you.”

“Missed you, too, Janči.”

Jan was secretly the best hugger because his hugs were rare and genuine, so you knew you were important to him in a way. Still with one arm around my back, he turned me around to introduce me to the two new members of the band who I didn’t know.

“So, this is Nace, our bassist, and this cat right here is Jure, our drummer.” I didn’t know why he called him a cat.

The drummer was too friendly as he hugged me tightly and attempted to lift me up before I squealed and he let me back down on my feet.

“Sorry, that was too sudden. But it’s okay. Nice to meet you, Jure.”

“Nice to meet you, (Y/N). Sorry about that. I was just excited when the guys told me about you.” The blonde was smiling widely, and squealing excitedly.

“Oh. Yeah, don’t worry about it.” I smiled back at him and turned to look at the bassist.

“Hi, Nace. I’m (Y/N). Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too, (Y/N). Is it okay if I hug you? I promise not to lift you like Jure.”

I laughed at the offended, yet smiling, expression on the drummer’s face. “Yeah, sure.”

Okay, I’m taking back what I said about Jan being the best hugger. Nace was the best hugger of all; his hug was comforting, and warm, and it felt like you were hugged by a fluffy, soft cloud. It was so comforting, to the point where I didn’t want to let go, but I had to because it would be weird if I kept hugging him.

And then, there was Kris, watching the whole ordeal in front of him without saying a word or moving from his place in the back of the rather small lounge room. I slowly and unsurely walked towards him.

“Hey, Krisko.” My voice was barely audible, worried about what I’d tell him next - or at all.

“Hey, (Y/N). How have you been?” His expression was stoic, but also caring. To some degree. His eyes were examining my face as if he was trying to pick at my thoughts.

“Somewhat okay, I guess. What about you? I see you’re finally living your dream.” I smiled warmly at him; I was genuinely happy that he seemed to be happy, doing what he was secretly always meant to do: make music, and make people happy. Thankfully, it was Bojan who inspired him to pick up the guitar and learn to play, out of spite for the singer.

“Yeah, it’s been a pretty good year. Hectic and crazy, but good.” I saw him swallowing his saliva. “I’m glad to see you are okay after all this time.” His voice made him sound smaller than he was.

“Me too. I’m glad to see you’re okay, and still hanging out with Jan and Bojan. And making music. In a band. And apparently, you went to Eurovision?!” I chuckled, trying to make him more comfortable to open up and talk.

“Yeah, it’s been quite crazy in that sense. I was worried about going to Eurovision. Nobody really got anything out of it apart from some fame in Slovenia. But it’s crazy that not many people knew us a year ago and now we’re here, touring around Europe.”

“Yeah, it sounds unbelievable. To be honest, I didn’t know you either. Lena dragged me here because she needed company to see her favorite band.” I pointed back at my friend who was excitedly talking with the rest of the guys.

Turning to look at said friend, I was quite in shock. I thought she was terrified of talking to them, but she seemed pretty cool, judging by everyone’s body language.

“You didn’t?”

“No, I’m sorry. I haven’t watched Eurovision in years. And I… I had already left when you… started the band, you know. So, I didn’t know what was going on.” I hugged myself to bring me some kind of comfort and courage to go through this. I started a conversation I didn’t want to, but we needed to talk about it honestly.

“You could have called, you know. Or texted. Me, or my parents, or even Bojan or Jan. Even Maks. But you didn’t. You just left and you forgot about everything. You forgot…” Kris was also hugging himself now, but his piercing blue eyes were getting fueled with anger and some sadness or disappointment, I couldn’t tell which.

“Believe me, I didn’t. I never stopped thinking. About Slovenia; about my life back then; about our friends. But… most importantly… about you.” I gulped, trembling. “I never stopped thinking about you.” I couldn’t look at him in the eyes. As I felt mine welling up, I was too much of a chicken to look at him straight up.

“Do you want to talk somewhere more private?” Kris whispered close to my ear, and I lifted my head to look at him staring. He was staring back at the guys, who were having half a conversation with Lena now; most of their attention was on Kris and me talking.

“Yes, please,” I nodded, and I followed Kris as he led us out of the room and down the hall, opening a door that led to, what seemed like, another dressing room.

I went in first, and he followed and closed the door behind us. I was too nervous to speak up, now that it was just the two of us. So I opted to look around the room, examining the outfits hanging from a clothing rail.

They were all amazingly beautiful, most of them - if not all - stitched with embroidery. I studied them closely, only to realize it was Idrija lace, from Slovenia.

I remember going there once or twice with my family, visiting the town and going through the Zgornja Indrijca Nature Park. I could say I was lucky in the sense that I grew up in a country where there was a lot of nature and green around.

“These are beautiful,” I mumbled, still in awe of how something so traditional could transform into something so modern and fashionable.

“Yeah, our new designer, Karlo Kirri, made them. It was a long process, going back and forth, but I think it paid off?”

I turned around to see Kris’s eyes full of questioning and doubt as if he was waiting for my approval.

“It definitely did. I heard from Lena that people went crazy for your outfits.”

“But…do you like them?” It was weird seeing Kris doubting himself and waiting for me to say something nice, after all these years that he managed to do all this on his own.

“I love them, Kris. I really do.” Kris gave me a bright Duchenne smile, as his cheeks turned bright pink. How much have I missed this smile…

“I missed yours, too.” Kris blushed harder and lowered his head, suddenly the floor looking rather interesting to him.

“Wait. Did I…? When did you…?”

“Some time before we got together. And during. And after you left. I was hoping to learn enough phrases and words so I could come and see you… But I didn’t…” I saw his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down all this time.

It was painful to turn back time and remember how we didn’t reach for each other back then; how I didn’t keep the promises I gave him; how I left him all alone without an explanation as to why I stopped communicating with him.

“You know it’s my fault. For not coming to see you. And not talking to you. I got overwhelmed. I said that to myself until I believed it. Truth is, for a few years, I felt like going back…“home” was entirely my fault. If I wasn’t at that age and all... But I came to the conclusion that this wasn’t my actual fault. My fault was not keeping in contact with you. Because I thought you hated me - I wanted you to hate me for going away - and it’d be better if you kept going on with your life. Because your life was and is in Slovenia, no matter how big Joker Out will get. And I thought it was much healthier for you to experience Slovenia, and eventually find someone who’s from Slovenia and won’t abandon you, and have a family in Slovenia, and grow old in Slovenia…”

“Wow, (Y/N), I think you went off the rails! You don’t even know if that’s what I want; have a family and grow old in Slovenia! Maybe I won’t have a family, or maybe I’ll move to the Netherlands or somewhere else…! But this wasn’t your decision to make! I just wanted to be with you! It was you who I planned my future with! And, yeah, half of our miscommunication was your fault, but the other half of it was mine. Because, if you remember, I could have also texted you, or called you, or visited you, or something. But I didn’t. Because I was also afraid that I would only put obstacles in your way. You moved away to make a new life for yourself, and I would only remind you of the past. And I knew how much you wouldn’t like to be reminded of the life you left behind.”

“I only hated being reminded of that life because you were a part of it and you weren’t going to be part of my life anymore. But I needed you so badly; I needed you with me because, as much as I didn’t want to admit it to anyone, you were the only person to keep me grounded. I wasn’t sane and polished and ‘appropriate’ on my own; you, your existence kept me level-headed. Otherwise, I’d go off the rails. And I did. For the first couple years we were back, I wasn’t myself. I rebelled against my parents a lot; I went out a lot; drank and smoked. Not like crazy because I didn’t feel like it, but enough for my parents to finally worry about me and start wondering if we should have stayed back home. In Slovenia, I mean.”

“And what changed after that?”

“I became an adult while on my first semester in uni and my parents basically gave me ultimatum. Either I get my shit together and turn back into the responsible and well-behaved (Y/N) I was, or they’d kick me out of the house and I’d have nowhere to go. So, I chickened and agreed and turned back into the goody-two-shoes I was. And I just waited until I had enough to leave.”

There were a few moments of silence before Kris spoke up.

“When you left, I poured all my energy into the band. I wanted - I needed to make something work in my life. I needed something where I’d have full control over and something to keep my mind and body busy, so that I wouldn’t have to go to bed at night and think at all. I was busying myself with school and the band, and then uni and the band. So much so that I never stood still to think how empty my life actually was. How that, no matter who I met and got together with, they still wouldn’t make me feel the things I felt for you. How that, besides my friends and family, I had no one else to connect with. In theory, I had people I could talk to about my fears and anxieties and troubles and my everyday revelations of happiness. But then I thought the only person I actually wanted to discuss all these things with was you, and I couldn’t because you weren’t there.”

“I’m…so sorry about everything. I really am.” I felt my throat dry and burn up, as my eyes started stinging.

Kris gulped and slightly choked by the way he huffed. “I am sorry. For not trying to reach out when I could.”

“Oh, Kris, we both fucked up, didn’t we?” There was no way to hide the tears that were falling down my cheeks. 

And when Kris moved forward to hug me and caress my back, I fell deeper into his arms, enjoying his touch and our proximity after such a long time.

“We really did, moja mala.” I smiled at the nickname Kris used to call me; it made me feel small - technically I was small, compared to his giant frame - and loved. “But…it’s never too late to go back…to how we were.”

I slipped out of his embrace and he whined softly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that, if you want and you’re not in a relationship, but mostly if you want… I won’t pressure you or anything, but you know,...”

“Kris! Just say it.”

He sighed. “Do you want to get back together…with me?”

I barely heard him; his voice was almost a whisper, his lips were visibly trembling, and he suddenly didn’t know what to do with his hands as he was fumbling his shirt.

“Are you sure about that? I mean, there’s nothing more I would want, but does this seem okay with you? I mean, I thought we still had our issues and it would be awkward and difficult to go through all these years we were away from each other, and…”

“Oh, please, stop.” 

Within nanoseconds, Kris bent down closer to me, gently taking my face between his hands, and smashing our lips in the softest and sweetest kiss I had experienced in a long time. I felt a sudden dizziness in my head and fireworks in my stomach, as I kissed him back, sliding my hands on his face to hold him closer than it was even possible.

As if I weighed nothing, Kris picked me up and I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist. He was more of an expert now - we both were. We had grown from those awkward and inexperienced teenagers to awkward and slightly more experienced adults.

It felt as if there hadn’t been a day that we were apart. It all felt natural like this was where we were both supposed to be; like almost a decade of being apart did not affect how we felt for each other. I always knew that Kris was the one I still wanted after all those years, but, seeing how it was the same for him, filled my heart with immense peace and calmness, as if the weight I felt was lifted off my soul.

We pulled apart to take a breath, though I wished we never stopped. Kris’s blue eyes looked at me worriedly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

“What?” I thought… He said…

Kris didn’t answer. Instead, he wiped my tears with one hand, still being as gentle as he could.

“Sorry. Those are happy tears, moj budala. I’m happy. You make me happy.”

Kris smiled brightly, his eyes twinkling. I squeezed him between my arms, refusing to let him go, searching and needing his comfort. He laughed when he realized what was happening, and didn’t put me down. Instead, he started swaying us around, mumbling a melody.

“Which song are we dancing to?” I asked mischievously, understanding the reference but not wanting to spoil it.

“1973. James Blunt. You remember?”

“I never forgot.”

Kris was humming and swaying us left and right, me still latched on to him, not feeling like getting off of him any time soon.

“I never forgot about you. You said you’ll always be scared of me forgetting. But I never did. I told you. Even when we eventually fell apart, our souls still found a way to be together.”

I pulled away a bit to look him in the eyes. “Whenever I felt lost and alone, my mind always came back to you. You were my comfort and my safe haven even if you didn’t know it. At least, I always had something to remember you by.” I instinctively put my hand above my chest, above the necklace, trying not to but being very tempted to rub it for comfort again.

“I noticed. I’m happy you kept it with you all these years. I was worried that you had gotten rid of it.”

“Getting rid of it would mean that I had stopped loving you and that would be the biggest lie of my life.”

Kris didn’t say anything but kept looking at me with those beautiful blue eyes I had missed so much, lowering his look as if to hide his feelings from me. When he kept silent, I was worried that I had said something wrong; that he suddenly didn’t feel the same, and that I was so dumb to tell him I still loved him.

And then he kissed me again. Slowly but surely, his soft lips collided with mine in a kiss so soft and simple, yet so loving. It was the kind of kiss that confirmed Kris’s feelings for me.

The kiss instantly transported me to a chilly night in Ljubljana, and my first kiss with Kris, when my mind was happily floating somewhere else, while my heart and stomach were exploding with a thousand fireworks.

If I could, I wouldn’t stop kissing him. But we both had to breathe once again eventually, and I again found myself crying. But I was happy; I was where I wanted to be 7 years ago, and it was surreal to even be here. It was a series of random events and circumstances that led us to where we were right now.

“To think that we wasted all this time away from each other…”

“Ljuba, time spent to grow, mature and realise we are where we need to be is never wasted. I never believed in fate and soulmates until I met you. And I stopped believing once I lost you. But, you make me believe there is something more to life than this. Because I cannot find the right words to tell you how much I missed you, and I cannot fathom the thought of not being with you.”

“Is it too cheesy to say I feel the same? Because I do, as crazy as it sounds. You should have been mad at me, and, here you are, saying all these beautiful things and that you missed me. And I selfishly want to stay here with you forever. But I can’t and you can’t. You have a life ahead of you, and it’s not here with me.”

“What are you talking about? My place is with you. Because that’s where I feel myself. I feel like myself when I’m with you, and I could never be mad at you, especially for something that wasn’t your fault. And I know you’ll say it again; that you could have done something about it but that’s all in the past, and the only thing I want is a future with you.”

That hit me like a train. A future with you. I always wanted a future with Kris, but actually hearing him say that put another perspective on the conversation. Could this work? Could we be together after all this time?

“We can, and we should. For both our sakes.”

“I should really stop talking to myself out loud.”

Kris giggled. “No, no, it’s cute. I like hearing the thoughts you never want to say out loud. It’s part of who you are. And I love every part of who you are. Ljubim te.”

“Ljubim te močno.”

We stayed silent for a while, but I couldn’t keep myself from caressing Kris’s cheek, his few days’ old blonde stubble barely visible but definitely felt to the touch.

I always found it cute when Kris wanted to let his facial hair grow but he found it disheartening when his was barely there, blonde and in patches, while Bojan’s and Jan’s especially were dark, full, and “with potential to grow into a full beard”.

I made fun of him for that because he cared so much about looking like his friends, but didn’t realize how special he was, how good he looked, and how I just loved his blonde facial hair, no matter how much he whined about it. It just suited him so well and it was one of his features that made him so cute to everyone’s eyes.

“Are you thinking about my stubble again?”

“Yes, I love it. I always loved your blonde stubble.”

Kris blushed. “Maybe I’ll keep it if you like it so much.”

“Please. But only if you feel like it. I know you always liked to keep your image clean and polished.”

“I know you know. But maybe I’ll try something different, switch things up.”

“Okay, ljubi.”

The cute moment was interrupted by the door swinging wide open and Jan shouting “Guys, I found them!” as we heard footsteps running down the hall, and I pleaded with Kris with my eyes to let me down on my feet.

Bojan was the first one to run into the room, straight at us, and hug us, congratulating us for some reason. Jan only high-fived us, and Nace smiled widely at both of us. But Jure was jumping up and down, like a kid that ate too much sugar to their parents’ dismay. Lena was squealing, wanting to say a lot of things but probably not in front of everyone.

“So, are you two back together now?” Bojan was smirking mischievously. Too mischievously in my opinion.

“Emm…” 

“We are good. We are whatever (Y/N) wants us to be.” Kris’s lips and eyes were smiling at me, as he took my hand in his, squeezing it gently, and I nodded, agreeing with him, squeezing back. We didn’t have to put a label just yet, because we literally saw each other again for the first time after such a long time only an hour ago.

“Well,..” Bojan continued smiling mischievously, “...Lena, here, told us that you haven’t planned anything for your Christmas vacation and you’re actually free now as we speak.”

“Yes?” I looked around the guys, seeing them smile as if they knew something I didn’t. “I was planning to go somewhere while we were queuing, but I haven’t found anything just yet. Why?”

“Well, we do have about…4 more concerts until the end of the year, all in Slovenia.” Jan explained as-a-matter-of-factly. “So, if you are up for it, we’d be happy for you to join us; see us more on the stage, and get to revisit some of the places around the country. Our last one is in Ljubljana. We get to stay there for a few days, and then we’re flying to London for some musical inspiration journey, and you can come back here, or come with us, whatever you feel like.”

“What do you think?” Bojan looked hopeful between Kris and me.

I looked up to see Kris’s face glowing and blushing, his hand slightly trembling but he was smiling widely. Was I ready to go back? I admit I missed Slovenia, and I missed Kris. And now I had the opportunity to go back with Kris…

I gave it no second thought. “Sure. Why not?” I shrugged, smiling at everyone’s sudden enthusiasm.

Kris skipped up and down before wrapping his arms around me, squeezing me beyond belief, and pecking the top of my head again and again. His happiness and enthusiasm were contagious, as the rest started jumping up and down, shouting and enveloping us into a group hug. 

Squeezed between those people who became so important in my life I could easily call family, I felt happy and loved. After all those years of just existing but not enjoying life, I was finally back where I needed to be.