#malchai fluff

The halls of Riverdale High had always been loud. Too loud. Lockers slamming, gossip bouncing from corner to corner, Northside kids with their polished smiles, Southside kids with their guarded stares, and everyone pretending they knew exactly who everyone else was. And somehow… no one really knew me. Not really. 

Sure, people knew of me. I floated between groups- friendly with the Vixens, respectful with the Serpents, quiet in class, never causing problems. Teachers liked me. Students didn’t dislike me. But no one knew what I could do. Not even my boyfriend. 

Malachai was leaning against my locker, spinning my combination lock lazily like he owned the place. Which, honestly… he kinda did. Southside confidence. Effortless char. That dangerous edge that made people look twice and think twice before messing with him. 

“Rehersal again?” He asked, eyebrow raised. 

I shrugged, stuffing books into my bag. “Yeah, tech week.” 

“For what again?” He pressed, like he asked before, but never really listened. 

I smiled faintly. “The musical.” 

“Right.” He said, nodding like that explained everything. “You like… backstage or something?” 

I hesitated. I could tell him. I should tell him. But something stopped me. Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was the way Riverdale had a habit of twisting things. Or maybe… I just wanted one thing that was mine before the whole town got their hands on it. 

“Something like that.” I said instead. 

He didn’t push. Malachai never pushed me. He just leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to my forehead. 

“Don’t stay too late. Walk home safe, yeah?” 

“Always do.” 

But as I turned away, heart thudding, one thought echoed in my chest… He has no idea. 

The auditorium was packed. Nothside. Southside. Teachers. Parents. Even people who never showed up to school events were there. Because this wasn’t just any musical. This was Hadestown. And Riverdale High had gone all out. Backstage, my hands trembled. I smoothed down my costume, Eurydice’s worn dress, soft and haunting. The fabric felt like it carried a story of its own. 

“Places!” Someone called. 

My chest tightened. This was it. I peeked through the curtain and that's when I saw him. Malachai sat in the middle row, arms crossed, looking mildly bored- but present. He showed up, of course he did. He always did for me. He just didn’t know what he showed up for… yet. 

The lights dimmed. Music swelled. The story began. I stayed hidden for my first entrance, listening to the opening numbers, grounding myself. My breathing slowed. My fear softened into something else. Something stronger. Then… my cue. I stepped into the light. And the entire room shifted. At first, people didn’t react. They didn’t realize it was me.I was just… Eurydice. Until I opened my mouth. 

And sang. 

It wasn’t just good. It wasn’t ‘school musical good’. It was the kind of voice that silenced a room. Raw. Emotional. Powerful in a way that didn’t feel rehearsed, it felt lived in. Every note carried weight. Every word felt like it mattered. 

At first, he didn’t process it. He leaned forward slowly, brows knitting together. I turned slightly, light catching my face. And it hit him. Hard. I saw him mutter something under his breath. Around him, whispers started. 

“That’s Y/N?” 

“Since when can she sing like that?” 

“Oh my God…” 

“Is she serious right now?” 

Even the Northsiders-usually composed, polished, unimpressed- were staring. Because I didn’t just sing. I became Eurydice. 

By the time Flowers hit, the entire room was mine. My voice soared. Cracked. Broke. Rose again. And somewhere in the audience, Malachai’s entire world tilted. Because he realized something terrifying. He didn’t know everything about me. And somehow I knew that made him fall harder. 

After the final bow, the curtain dropped. The applause didn’t. It exploded. People stood, cheered, and whistled. The sound was overwhelming, like the entire town had just collectively realized they’d been underestimating me. I stood there, breathing hard, heart racing, trying not to cry. I did it. I finally showed them. 

Backstage was chaos. People rushing. Hugging me. Talking over each other. 

“That was insane!” 

“You’re literally Broadway-level!” 

“Why didn’t you ever tell anyone??” 

I laughed nervously, overwhelmed. 

“I just… didn’t think it mattered.” 

“Didn’t matter!?” Someone repeated. “Are you kidding??” 

When I stepped out into the lobby, it got worse. Way worse. Northsiders I barely spoke to suddenly knew my name. Girls complimenting my voice. Guys- God. The guys. 

“Hey, you were incredible- can I get your number?” 

“That performance? Unreal.” 

“You ever thought about recording something?” 

I blinked, stunned, clutching my program like a lifeline. 

“Uh- thank you- I-” 

Another voice cut in. 

“Yo, seriously, that was-” 

I turned slightly, overwhelmed, trying to respond politely without committing to anything. But inside? My chest was tight. Because there was only one reaction I cared about. And I hadn’t seen him yet. 

Then, suddenly, a hand grabbed my wrist. Firm. Familiar. I barely had time to react before I was pulled away from the crowd. Spun. And there he was. Malachai. Eyes locked on mine. Dark, intense, and completely unreadable. For a second, neither of us spoke. The noise around us blurred into nothing. 

“You…” He started, voice low. 

I swallowed. “I was gonna tell you-” 

He cut me off. Not with words. With movement. 

He pulled me closer and spun me. A full turn, my dress flaring slightly as I let out a surprised laugh. When I faced him again, his hands were still on me. Tight. Grounding. 

“Where the hell have you been hiding that?” He asked, almost breathless. 

My cheeks flushed. “I- I didn’t hide it, I just… never really-” 

“Never really what?” He pressed. “Thought it was worth telling me?” 

There was no anger in his voice. Just… disbelief. And something softer. Something that made my chest ache. 

“I didn’t think it mattered.” I admitted quietly. 

He stared at me. 

Long. 

Hard. 

Like he was memorizing me all over again. 

“Didn’t matter?” He repeated, shaking his head slightly. “You just walked out there and had the entire room eating out of your hands.” 

I laughed softly, nervous. “That’s dramatic.” 

“I don’t do dramatic.” He shot back. “That was real.” 

Behind us, people were still watching. Still whispering. Still trying to get closer. But Malachai didn’t care. Didn’t even look. 

“You’re mine, right?” He asked suddenly. 

I blinked. “Mal-” 

“No.” He corrected, softer now. “Not like that, I just-” 

He hesitated. Which never happened. 

“I just need to know I didn’t imagine that you’re still the same girl who kisses me goodbye at her locker every morning.” 

My expression softened instantly. I stepped closer, slipping my hand into his. 

“I am.” I said gently. “I’m still me.” 

He exhaled slowly, like he’d been holding his breath all night. 

“Good.” he murmured. 

Then, after a beat. 

“Because I don’t think I could handle losing you to… whatever that was.” 

I laughed, heart swelling. “It was just singing.” 

“No.” He said firmly. “It wasn’t.” 

The crowd started inching closer again. I felt it. The attention. The shift. Everything was changing. Fast. But before it could overwhelm me, Malachai tilted my chin up. Pressed his forehead to mine. And kissed me. Right there. In front of everyone. The whispers got louder. Northside girls shocked. Southside guys smirking. Phones probably coming out. But neither of us cared. When he pulled back, he smirked slightly. 

“Now they can stop asking for your number.” 

I snorted. “That’s why you kissed me?” 

“Partly.” 

I raised a brow. “And the other part?” 

His expression softened. 

Just a little. 

“Because I’m proud of you.”