🍥 bunny 🍥

Acting professionally has been what you yearned for since you were a child, and you've worked hard to make it this far. You've had a few important gigs and have played some semi-relevant characters, but to have your first leading role back in your homeland feels special.

Your Germany. The group home you grew up in. Your friends and caretakers. But most importantly, your Michael.

You remember him clearly, the boy who arrived a year or so after you were welcomed in the temporary home. You remember his blond, tousled hair, his bright blue eyes, his lean yet frail frame... and the large amount of bruises marring his fair skin.

It was so strange to you. You were placed there due to your parents passing, and most kids didn't arrive in the state Michael did, either. You didn't know violence the way he knew it, you could only wonder if he had had a bike crash or suffered a dangerous fall while playing. Your oblivious, innocent mind couldn't comprehend the situation, and such sense of unfamiliarity only heightened your curiosity.

So while some kids were hesitant and didn't know what to make of him, you couldn't stop watching him.

You began observing him closely and analyzing his every quirk. How his small fists trembled from how tight he was clenching them. The way his gaze didn't rest in one place for long, vigilant even in a safe haven. How his posture remained tense, body locked in that fight or flight mode. Yet you also saw a certain innocence in his ocean eyes, one that made him feel more like a stray kitten to yours.

Maybe that's what made you approach him after he was settled in. And you've never regretted that decision, as Michael turned to be the closest friend you had in foster care, even with the time it took for him to warm up to you.

You stargazed together, whispering your hopes and dreams to each other. Discussed what you wished to do when you left the house, wondered how much of the outside world you would experience.

You counted stars until you couldn't think of what your life would've been had your parents survived that accident.

You picked up clovers from the ground until Michael couldn't wonder how things could've been had his parents loved him.

You were all the other had, simply everything for each other.

That is, until you were adopted.

You sent him letters. You sent many letters through the course of time, all starting with that "Dear Michael" that spoke of how much he meant to you. You didn't forget him, you promised you wouldn't, so you kept in contact for as long as you could.

But life has a way of forcing you to move on, so with time his response letters started arriving delayed, and you were so busy that yours began to be less frequent.

Your adoptive family moved out of Germany shortly after they took you in, which is why the communication between you two was so excruciatingly difficult.

By the time your last letter arrived, you found out Michael was no longer living in your old group home.

And, just like that, he dissapeared without a trace.

It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. You weren't mistreated while under foster care, but it would have been a pretty depressing experience had Michael not had been there for you.

You wish you could tell him you made it. Or at least get to know if he's okay. If he found someone to take care of him like you did, or if luck didn't grace him and he had to adjust by himself. You can only hope he's managed, knowing what a hard time kids who never get adopted usually go through. He harbored such a sweet soul inside of that though exterior, you have nothing but kind wishes for him.

You take a deep breath, an attempt to clear your mind. Reveries of your past will do you no good, you need to focus on the present and keep building your future.

But how can you, when to this day you still hear his name?

How can you, when you're faced with those blue eyes you once knew so well the moment you lift your gaze?

"...Michael Kaiser, your co-star for the film." Your brain does a meek effort to tune in to whatever introductions you were being given, and realization knocks the air out of your lungs.

You'd heard of your co-star here and there, knew he's a rising german actor whose career is currently skyrocketing. You just didn't go through the effort of seeing any pictures. And okay, maybe nostalgia is making you see things, but you'd recognize those eyes anywhere, and you're struggling to believe the name is nothing but a coincidence.

The man barely looks your way, exuding confidence by merely standing in the room. You stare unknowingly, taking in his blond hair that fades into a tint of blue, his blue eyes, adorned with a red eyeliner, and the tattoo in his arm, thorny vines crawling up to his neck until meeting a beautiful blue rose.

It's easily a breathtaking view, but you're too focused on the past to feel impressed. It must not look the part, though, as the grin that breaks through your co-star's lips is one of egocentric pride.

"So, you're the one I'm working with," he drawls, stepping closer, "admiring the view, I see."

He expected you to answer with a lot of things, like a huff of annoyance, a blush of embarrassment or blank professionalism.

But the way you uttered his given name, "...Michael," in that heavy, meaningful tone, was not something he'd ever thought would happen.

Surprise colors his features for a second, a half-hearted scoff leaving his lips. He looks away in barely concealed discomfort. "I thought everyone knew, but I don't work on a first name basis."

His tone makes embarrassment flare up inside you, that was an emotional slip on your part. It's a slippery slope from here, as you shake your head instinctively while more words tumble out of your mouth. "No, Michael. I know you. From... Foster care, remember? I—"

Kaiser's expression turns icy, a smile that doesn't reach his lips taking hold as he interrupts you. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

You inhale, "No, Hear me out for second. I'm not imagining it, we—"

"Listen." He abruptly cuts you off. "Whoever you think I am, I don't care. I'm not him, I just want to do my job. If you can't focus? Maybe you should give up your role to someone more professional. I'm not here to babysit anyone."

Kaiser words are biting and unkind, but they're exactly what you need to quit rambling. His patience has run out, evident in the crease of his brows and his curt tone.

A mocking grin expands in his lips, lacking of any humor, as he resumes speaking. "Everyone knows I'll do most of the work, but try not to look so pathetic on set, ja? I don't want to get stuck on retakes because of your mistakes."

His scornful gaze appears to tear through your soul, those same eyes that held so much confidence earlier now glinting almost cruelly.

Those are not the same gentle eyes you'd grown to love, the ones that held hope despite adversity while growing up.

You're left standing there as he turns around, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. "What's your name again?"

As you reply, his body stills for a few seconds, silence lingering uncomfortably before he fully looks away. "Just don't slow me down."

His footsteps echo in your head as he leaves like he'd never arrived.

Your dear Michael? Fat chance.

Now only Kaiser remains.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . 📽.ᐟ

You're immediately fuming the moment shock leaves your body.

After a thorough research in which you got your hands on any and all official information you could find, you somehow get access to a list of names. You scroll for a while, until you see those of the children who where in your foster home in the year you were still living there.

And what a whiplash it is to see yours registered, along with his government name. Michael Kaiser.

You didn't pay much attention to anyone's last names as a kid, but you knew you hadn't hallucinated it.

It's him. It has to be. And while you knew it the moment you saw him, he barely reacted to you!

Michael was such an important figure to you while growing up, someone you remembered with fondness. You'd dreamed of seeing him again, and for what? He insulted you in your face the moment he saw you. Even if you wanted to give him the benefit of doubt, the way he tensed when you told him your name makes you think he did remember you. Which, in a way, makes it all worse.

Has he really changed this much? His treatment towards you makes your heart hurt. But thinking about Kaiser (how weird it feels to call him that now) will do you no good, you have actual important things to focus on. Like this script in your hands that won't be studied by itself. Specially now that you're alone, given a certain someone skipped today's table read after your unfortunate encounter.

Flipping through the pages again, you regain your focus.

The story is something you've definitely seen and read before. A detective, your character, is struggling to crack an important case that needs to be solved as soon as possible. The only person that can offer the help needed is an ex-convict, this being Kaiser's role. It's a classic rivalry flick, with a romance twist brewing along. Romance you had no issue with prior today, but that you're now sure is going to feel so, so uncomfortable to act out with him.

Regardless of that, you're a professional. You can push away your emotions for the job, you've done it before.

It's just two months and a few days of filming, spending your summer with the shadows of your past before going back home and reaping the rewards.

You can sacrifice yourself for the moment... though something tells you it won't be easy.

Meeting Kaiser again is just the start, it all goes downhill from here.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . 📽.ᐟ

"I'm not working with you."

"Do you have an alternative, goody two-shoes? It's either doing this with me, or kissing your career goodbye."

"Well—"

"Cut!" The director interrupts the filming, eliciting groans from you, Kaiser and the whole team behind.

This is the fifth time you've been interrupted before being able to finish this scene, and it's proving to be jarring. The director takes a few sips of water, before exhaling in exhaustion.

His eyes go to the blond first. "Kaiser, your expressions are too tight for the scene. Relax. You play someone with a menacing background, yes, but you're not trying to intimidate anyone here. Laid back confidence, that's what we want. Stop looking at your partner like you're trying to frighten them."

"You," his pointed gaze turns your way, "are far too tense again. Limit your reactions. We want reluctance and controlled displeasure. Your emotions are slipping with every dialogue of his."

You exhale quietly, this has to be your worst performance yet. You were both in your element in solo scenes, but give it a single try of being in Kaiser's proximity for your professionalism to crumble. It's like every little thing Kaiser's character is scripted to say fits your situation, making you react naturally instead of sticking to your role. In an effort to not respond to the taunting manner he purposely speaks with while acting, you suppress your emotions, resulting in more tension. Something that only gets worse at the way Kaiser condescendingly stares at you, like your shared failure is fully your fault.

"You need to work on your chemistry, and immediately. If this is only your first scene together, I don't want to know how things will go with the really important ones..." Your director takes of his glasses and rubs his face exasperatedly, making you cower in embarrassment. "Anyway, we'll have a break. Go drink something together, work on your relationship."

Noise gradually fills the room again as each member of the team focuses on other tasks, filming postponed until further notice. Striding towards you, footsteps along that grating voice you've started to dislike grow nearer.

"So, you don't want to work with me, huh?"

Your eye twitches, that was literally nothing more than your dialogue. Still, you play along, arms crossing as you meet his taunting gaze. "Well, you haven't been the nicest."

"Was I supposed to, after you acted crazy on me upon first meeting?" First meeting. What a joke. "You're still on time to make something up to leave and let your role be played by someone else. Do you know how many people would kill for this opportunity? You should pass the chance on, Schatzi."

You cringe at the nickname, scoffing. "No chance. It's also your job to try to get along with me, we'll get nowhere if I'm the only one putting in the work."

"Putting in the work?" He sneers, "I already do that, you just need to adapt. Speaking of which, director said we had to improve our chemistry, right? So why don't you make yourself useful and fetch me a drink?"

You grit your teeth, fists clenched, forcing a smile through your features. Just how much of an asshole can this man be? You have to invoke much self-restraint to not stomp your way towards the mini bar.

He really is not only disregarding your history together, but mocking your skill again and again as if an honest conversation from his part wouldn't fix this predicament.

But if Kaiser wants to ignore the past so bad, you'll just remind him that you're no stranger over and over until he breaks.

The cola is freezing to the touch once you make contact, remembering the one and only drink little Michael missed from his days with his father. Healthy food and beverages were prioritized in the group home, specially for a boy like him who was so malnourished. And though he can drink what he wants freely now, and there are no visible traces of his prior, poor condition, you're sure he remembers.

Maybe it's a low blow to take advantage of this.

But who's to say this doesn't call for it?

You make your way back to Kaiser, his hand already extended invitingly when you return. There's a smug smirk on his lips as he scrolls through his phone, distracted. You place the can in his waiting palm, deliberate slowness in your gesture. And with a sudden, suspicious kindness, you say:

"Here, have some cola. It's your favorite, after all."

Kaiser's body tenses ever so subtly, a gesture of restraint you're familiar with now. His fingers wrap around the beverage as he meets your heavy gaze, catching on despite his efforts to hide it.

"Everyone likes cola, smarty pants," he waves you off, like your comment's absurd. "You're not a genius for guessing that."

"Oh, really?" You doubt sarcastically, "Because as far as I know, not one likes it quite as much as you."

His grip around the can tightens, making you think that he'll crush it under his grip for a moment. He gives you a thin smile before opening it, tension oozing from his body through his feigned nonchalance.

If you struggled acting together before, it'll definitely be worse now that you've pissed him off.

But after getting the reaction you wanted, you can hardly regret it.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . 📽.ᐟ

Despite your little stunt against Kaiser the other day, you've barely affected him long term.

You want to know what he thinks of you, and why he refuses to acknowledge your past together. But he seems to like putting up an act both on and off set, and you're getting nowhere like this.

Your first few scenes were difficult to pull through, and mixing work with personal affairs won't be good for your career... But if Kaiser refuses to cooperate and make your jobs easier, is there really anything you can do besides keep prodding until his walls come down?

This is doing your career a favor too, you need to get through him. And with a promotional activity you're both scheduled to do today, there's no better moment to remind him of how well you know him.

The glances you and Kaiser exchange as your makeup is being touched up are enough to show that neither of you is done with this. Sitting side by side, cameras ready, you're sure the man beside you has no idea of the amount of havoc you can conjure up even on a casual video meant for social media.

"The dynamic is simple," the woman behind the camera reminds you, "you'll be asked questions, and you have to write down what you think the other will answer. Cast games are pretty popular, and the public only cares about watching how you interact with each other. Rather than worrying about winning, focus on giving them fun interactions."

You both smile and nod at the directions, fully aware of your hidden agendas. The production crew goes over a few adjustments of equipment, and soon enough the cameras begin rolling.

Staff introduces the two of you, letting you both sit still and look pretty in the background. After, the game host turns towards you two. "This is the first time the two of you are partnered together. So, before we begin, why don't you tell us your first impressions of each other?"

Kaiser gets the spotlight first, propping his chin on his hand as he speaks languidly. "Well, to be honest, I hadn't heard of my little co-star before. I'm keeping an open mind, since we don't know each other well... but I can see that Schatz here was a perfect cast, as both the character and the real person seem to be just as uptight."

"Is that a compliment?" The host seems to beg that this is just banter, and while Kaiser raises responds by raising an eyebrow amusedly, it's up to you to save the interaction by laughing it off.

"It is, I assure you. I sometimes forget to stop acting once the camera's off, my partner here just had a good eye and noticed."

"You have gotten very into your characters, I see," she jokes, "what is your impression of Kaiser, then?"

"As for me, I had heard of him here and there. We've just started working together, but I almost feel like we've known each other for longer." Your eyes flit towards him briefly, before returning to the camera, "...Just something about the way he carries himself, you know?"

"It's the Kaiser effect," She remarks.

"Yeah, exactly," You playfully agree.

Kaiser treats it humorously as well, joining the banter.

But another glance in your direction let's you know he knows what you're doing.

The tension doesn't linger noticeably, the host moving on from the topic quickly.

"Let's start playing now, shall we?" She invites, the actual challenge now beginning.

You're both handed little whiteboards and a pen, the dynamic's first round focused on Kaiser guessing your answers to the questions he's given.

He goes out of his way to subtly answer everything wrong on purpose, and when he's doesn't, he replies in a way that 'playfully' belittles you. He hasn't stopped trying to intimidate you, always finding new ways to push you away. It gets on your nerves but you stay cool, knowing he has the upper hand in reputation and you need to match his energy.

It's not until his last question that you get your first match, your boards turning while displaying "being forgotten" for the "your co-star's worst fear" question.

"Oh, I finally got something right." Kaiser comments in amusement, though you can tell he didn't plan this. "I chose this answer because our film protagonist is desperate to solve the case, as we know. I think they're just worried their career will be ruined if they don't succeed, being forgotten entirely. I just guessed you'd feel the same again, Schatz."

His blue eyes dart towards your figure, signature smirk on his lips.

His jab doesn't go unnoticed, but you have one to match.

"Interesting read on the character, Kaiser. We hope you're not spoiling our viewers!" the host continues animatedly, "Back to our detective, did you choose that answer for the same reason? Or was there a different thought process?"

"While I'd love to say I relate to our protagonist again, my worries are much simpler." You offer the cameras a soft smile, "I'm not afraid of not making it big and being forgotten, I just think I'd be sad if someone I was really close to forgot about me."

"Aww, so you're more the emotional than the ambitious type," the host comments sympathetically, "Guess you can't be the same in everything, right?"

You nod and play along with her words, acting like you're just giving the video it's wholesome moment. Kaiser does a marvelous act at following the interaction's lead, but your message was received. And you're about to have your turn, so this is only the first of your antics.

When your round begins, you do the exact opposite as Kaiser.

Your answers match more often than not, all while you act like it's sheer luck. When Kaiser is not fully honest with his responses, yours still humble him, since he knows deep down they're the actual truth. The cameras are oblivious to what's happening, but you can tell he's affected by how much you remember. And you're insistent through it, not missing a single mark.

Favorite food and drink? You say you found out in these few days, but you both know better.

How long it takes him to do his hair? You reply that you think his hair is time consuming, but you were there when you both were twelve, fixing his bed head daily.

You're taking him to a trip down memory lane, all while pretending being none the wiser.

And as wonderful as he is at acting nonchalant, the last straw comes at your final question, when you're asked what you think he wanted from Santa as a child.

Kaiser shows his answer first, something he must've come up with in the spot written across his whiteboard.

But when he looks at yours, his expression sours.

"Freedom?" The host laughs, not understanding the depth of your answer. "Seems like you lost again. Care explaining why you chose that?"

"Well, It's just what I first came up with." You lie, smiling brightly. "I think Kaiser as a child must've been the kind to want to explore the world and be free from responsibilities, so I chose that."

The host agrees with the sentiment, but the air between you and Kaiser has changed. You couldn't find any information on his past in the internet, and your deep search through the records of your foster care association was only able to give his name. Wether he went out of his way to bury his past and start anew doesn't matter, not while you're here to be the physical tie he can't sever.

Because you remember how fondly he spoke of his wishes, how he felt trapped in the foster home despite being better cared for. You remember him yearning to be loved, to have a family that would neither cut his wings nor abandon him when he decided to pursue his dreams.

You wrote letters to Santa together, you're the only one who knows what he asked for. The one who knows he only stopped when he thought his wish wouldn't come true, rather than believing he was 'too old for those things' as he once claimed.

Grass tickled your skin as you laid in the garden nightly, sharing your thoughts on the world. He was your Micha, and you were his sunshine.

The one person that made living there worth it, that made that house feel like home instead of confinement.

You know it all, and you know he remembers.

So even when the camera stops recording and you're getting feedback on your performance, you feel the shift.

The crew begins going separate ways once dismissed, some working on other tasks while others take the opportunity to rest. You notice Kaiser making a beeline to the dressing room, likely to clear his mind. Knowing you can't waste the situation's momentum, you trail behind him without thinking much.

"Was that good enough for you, superstar?" You call out when you're both out of earshot, your tone laced with a hint of smugness you're unable to hold back. "I think we did a fine job out there."

"Get lost, Mäuschen."

"Not what I'm called, nor what you used to call me." You quip, a smirk curling on your lips as you follow him inside. Succeeding at grating him feels so good, you don't care if you're stooping to his level.

"Do you remember now, Michael? Or do I need to leave more hints?" You approach him in a slower pace now that he's stopped walking, his back facing you. "If you want to keep playing this game, I can d—"

Your body is spun around before you can finish talking, a tattooed arm slamming next to your head against the wall. He's got you cornered, your positions switched in mere seconds.

Your breath hitches in surprise, air escaping your lungs briefly.

And still, when shock leaves you, you can't find it in you to feel threatened.

Kaiser's face is centimeters away from yours, rage simmering in those irises now steely fixed on your own.

Silence lingers before his mind catches up with his own actions, mouth twisting into a cynical grin as quiet chuckles escapes him.

"You— Hah— you think you're so funny for this, don't you? So smart, all high and mighty." His laughter echoes in the quiet of the room, incredulous, hostile. "You want to hear me acknowledge you so bad? Then yes, I admit I knew you."

Kaiser's expression is downright deranged at the moment, like he's at the border of losing his sanity. Facing his past, facing you openly, is undoing him. Yet now that he's started, he can't stop. Tilting his head to his side, his pupils narrow into thin slits.

"I tried to push you away, you know," a scoff leaves his lips, "show you that the past is dead to me, that I'm not interested in rekindling anything. But you're insistent as ever, so we'll do it your way. I'll say it straight to your face, since you're that desperate for my attention."

Your lips part to retort, but he doesn't let you. Forehead leaning against yours, all the amusement leaves his face at once. "You're dead to me, and I don't care for what we lived together."

"You sure sound affected for someone who doesn't care," you find your voice, a frown twisting your features. "So you've forgotten about your old friends? Are you all about the fame now?"

He smiles condescendingly, like he's correcting a child who made a silly assumption. "It's not about the fame, Schatzi. I just don't make friends at all anymore, so I don't see why I should welcome you back. Everyone around me is but a tool for my success. You are one, too, and one as replaceable as the rest. Considering I'm bigger on this scene than you, you should stop trying to set me off. Who knows, maybe a single complaint of mine could end this opportunity for you in a whim."

"Are you threatening me?" You ask in irritation, yet he adopts an even softer lilt.

"Why, scared? I wouldn't blame you. You know you're on the losing end in every possible way right now, right?"

Your eyes roam from his intense expression, to his strong arms caging you in, to his built body. You know he's right, you know what he's implying. But even so, his intimidation doesn't work on you, not even flinching at the unfavorable position.

"I knew you when we were both weak and vulnerable, Michael. You don't scare me." You state firmly.

His feigned sweetness dissapears, smile nowhere to be seen. "Bringing up the past again, I see. You're a little obsessed with me, aren't you?"

"I just hoped we could get a normal conversation, you know. Like the adults we're supposed to be." You exhale in exasperation.

"And then what? Finish our heart to heart with me welcoming you in my arms? You expect that you can waltz your way back into my life so easily, after all this years?" he pushes himself back from you, "I'll say it one last time: I'm not interested. So, all we lived together? It's only in the past, and I don't look back, sunshine."

The irony in using your childhood nickname in such a sentence makes you smile bitterly.

You don't know what you expected, but as contradicting as his every word sound to you, you've had enough of his standoffish behavior and only want to return it tenfold.

"Whatever you say, Micha," You mirror his gesture, slipping past him and leaving the dressing room.

An hysterical laugh escapes him the moment he's alone.

Two can play this game, and neither of you will be lenient on the other.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . 📽.ᐟ

The start of July approaches swiftly, temperatures spiking up. You've never been too fond of the summer heat, yet somehow the blond imbecile of your childhood friend has gotten more on your nerves than the weather. A crazy thing to say, by your standards.

You've made progress with the film, though you're often sent on side quests with Kaiser so you can work on your relationship. Relationship that has gotten more intense after the recent events, making the extra rehearsals, trust exercises and promotional photo shoots all the more vexating.

Kaiser's back to his laid-back, confident self, slipping his mask on effortlessly. It only makes you glad you chased his tail and confronted him that day, as you wouldn't have had a better chance to get through him.

You're no longer facing each other as a person who wants to retrieve the past and another who's trying to forget it. Now, you're two people with shared history whose present differences make them clash constantly. Going from tense with each other to purposefully setting one another off is not the kind of chemistry your director wanted. It is the only you can give, though, and you've somehow made it work so hard (with constant difficulties).

As for the video, it was well received, sparking interest from those following the movie's development. Any odd glance or tight expression was cut off, and there was no ill-intended comment that video editing couldn't cover as friendly teasing. The audience thinks you're role-playing as your characters while imitating their rivalry, simply bantering with each other. Little do they know that the heaviness to your interactions was not orchestrated, and that the tension they perceived was everything but imaginary.

All in all, you've surprisingly left people wanting more of you two.

Which is why you had to do more promotional content so soon, like an interview you're about to have so you can showcase your playful and totally not difficult relationship.

"You clean up nicely." Kaiser comments lowly while final preparations are being made, making a show of looking you up and down. "You know, for someone of your background."

"We have a similar background, Michael."

"It's Kaiser in public."

"Okay, Michael."

Kaiser's smirks wryly, rolling his eyes. "Musst du denn immer deinen Dickkopf durchsetzen?" (do you always have to be so obstinate until you get your own way?)

"Du bist ja der Richtige, um so etwas zu sagen." (you're one to talk.)

He ignores your comment, redirecting the conversation. "So, what stunt will you pull this time? Tell the press you used to have a friend who looked just like me? Maybe let them know the truth straight up to get sympathy and feel better about still being hung up on me?"

"Lucky for you, today I'm more focused on making a good name for myself than ruining yours."

Kaiser invades your personal space, tilting his head slowly. "Another way of saying you simply don't dare to let things end here. You enjoy the chase as much as I do, right? You're obsessed with me, after all."

You push him back with a finger, "Stay away, or it'll look the other way around. I'm sure you wouldn't want anyone to think you still want something to do with me, right, Michael?"

Kaiser scoffs, yet leans back in his seat obediently. Not before dusting off the spot of his suit you touched, that is. You almost want to spit on it so it'll leave a mark. You have a good impression to give tonight, though, so you refrain.

The interview goes exactly as expected. Since you're still in early filming stage, you go through some short, spoiler-free clips of what you already have, giving a visual taste of what's coming. You discuss the experience you've had so far, while omitting the multiple issues you've had working with your co-star. Answer questions about past acting experience, and why you both were attracted to the movie's script. All this while throwing subtle jabs to each other, taking advantage of the fact that the audience can only understand your interactions at surface level.

It is easier than expected to interact with him on cameras after what happened the last time, at least since you're not trying to get a point across to him anymore. However, a question from the interviewer catches your attention, or more importantly, the way he reacts when asked.

"So, I think it's important to remember, why are you two here today? What was your motivation to work in the acting industry, what attracted you two to it?"

You answer first, explaining how it's been your dream ever since you have memory and your attachment to your craft. But too attuned at Kaiser's subtle reactions, you can tell the vibe's not the same as a minute before.

When it's his turn to speak, it's unassuming. He jokes about it, gives a generic answer. But that just makes you realize, you don't know the story behind this one.

Usually you can tell when Kaiser lies, and know what is the real answer he's hiding. But he never showed interest in acting as a kid, so you can't fact-check him. It must have been something he picked up after you left, but as reasonable as that could sound, you don't buy his response.

Why would he dodge the question with a basic response, as you assume he's doing? Why hadn't he displayed any hints towards enjoying his current career? And why, overall, are you only questioning this now?

The rest of the interview passes by a blur to you, these doubts remaining in your mind even as you play along and act cool for the cameras.

But when you're both alone and away from them, it nags you just enough to ask him.

"Didn't jinx things this time, I see," Kaiser mocks as usual as he sees you approach him, "Were you feeling merciful?"

"I'll do you a better question. Why did you start acting?"

"Didn't you hear what I said earlier? You have to pay attention when others speak."

"Oh, I did hear it, but I don't buy it. Did you change that much after I left? You never mentioned liking acting before."

He shifts his stance, the air turning more serious. "Like I told you before, the past is dead to me. I have no reason to answer your question."

"So there is another answer—"

"Stop." He cuts you off abruptly. "You're too nosy for your own good. You got into this because of your childish dream, but we're not the same. You wouldn't understand if I explained my reasons to you. Go live your happy little fantasy and leave me alone."

"Wait! You can't just assume..."

And he's gone.

Frustration, annoyance and an unanswered question are all you're left with before you too take your leave.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . 📽.ᐟ

"Hey, Michael... Do you know what you want to do when we get out of here?" Your tiny voice reached his ears, dragging him out of his own head. Michael's eyes settled on your face as you looked at the stars, both of you knelt in the mattress near the window.

It was the first time you asked him that question, and the first time after months of resisting interaction that he considered answering. He spent a moment if silence, before shaking his head. "I don't really know... I just want to be free."

"Free?" You asked, part confused by his answer, part surprised he didn't just dismiss you. He joined you in looking at the night sky, a slow nod coming after.

"Yes... Like the families in the movies that play in TV. They look so happy and full of love. Kids run around, play and look so... free. I want to be like them."

You listened in interest, confusion unusually not hitting you like in the few, previous interactions you had had with him by then. A part of you immediately thought, can't you play in this house like those children do? Isn't the attention from the caregivers enough to give that illusion? But you remembered how things changed for you after your parents' passing, and how it hadn't felt the same for you either.

You hummed in understanding, not questioning him for once. Silence lingered for a few seconds, before a small smile made its way to your lips.

"You know, I actually wanted to be in a film too. Since ever." You fiddled with the hem of your shirt as you spoke, lost in a reverie. "We watched movies at the theater and I thought: 'Oh, I want to work here too when i grow up like they do'."

Michael didn't say anything at first, before (again, surprisingly,) engaging with your comment. "You don't want to anymore?"

"Well, yeah... I still like it. Acting is fun. You can be whatever you want to be." You whispered fondly. Michael didn't say anything about it, but your words stayed on his mind.

"...You don't want to have a family again, too?" He added, wondering how you felt about the matter.

"...I don't know," you hesitated, "It's not going to be mom and dad anymore."

The room was quiet once again, something strange and uncomfortable shifting inside Michael's chest. He's a little envious of the relationship you had had with your parents, he didn't know if he would have wanted to have them in their life again when they clearly didn't want him in the first place. He was more mad that a part of him did want the same, exact people who brought him into the world back instead of some random strangers, but a version of them that did love him, too.

His tiny fists curled into themselves again, but there was not enough anger to make him push you away. Instead, he looked at your thoughtful expression, and that anger oddly dissolved into frustration before melting into nothing.

You were so lucky in his eyes, and he felt jealous. But you also consistently interacted with him without expecting anything in return nor because you had to, and a part of him craved that attention.

He exhaled before sitting in the bed, his emotions were too complex for a kid like him to understand. You followed through, your backs to the wall, before he finally broke the silence.

"...My mom's an actress," he admitted, your head whipping his way at the words. "My dad complained about that sometimes when he got drunk."

"He complained? Why? That's so cool!" Your voice brimmed with awe as you spoke, unable to stop yourself from smiling. "She sounds amazing. Is she famous?"

Michael shrugged, "I don't know her."

"Oh, that's a shame. Well, it's not like you could introduce me to her anyway..."

You trailed off, eyes sparkling still with that ridiculous smile still on your face. As Michael peeked at it, those conflicting feelings spiked up again, unsure of how to feel when speaking about his absent mother—even though it's made you happy. You turn to him before he can decide what to think, searching for his gaze.

"Hey, Micha... I hope that you can be free like you want to." You whispered honestly. "That you find someone who loves you."

His eyes widened in surprise, your heartfelt wish undoing him. Michael hadn't received much kindness in his short life, and even that of his caregivers wasn't enough. It felt forced, since it was their obligation to fulfill his needs. But you were always kind to him without a reason, and this interaction really took the cake.

"Maybe you'll see me in a movie when we're both grown ups, you know?" You giggled, "And we'll both get what we— Michael?"

The space the boy occupied in the bed was now empty, the door creaking when as made his exit. You suppressed the urge to follow him, remembering the adults' advice to give him time and space whenever he was agitated.

You didn't understand what happened then, but as usual, you didn't stop being nice to him despite it.

Three days later, Michael accepted when you offered him your snacks after lunch for the first time.

Two weeks went on, and he began answering to your questions regularly, and started allowing you near him more often without pushing you away.

That's how you started growing close, before getting to the point of being inseparable.

And yet, such a significant memory bursts like a bubble at the slightest outside sound.

Kaiser's fingers tap against your forehead, making you focus on the present. Of course, you had been studying closely the following scenes of the script before you got lost in your thoughts. You swat his hand away, exhaling at your own carelessness.

You've been thinking about the interaction you had with him after the interview often, wondering what he meant and if he really thought you wouldn't understand him. It makes you keep recalling moments you shared with him as kids, as if they held the answer he didn't trust you with on that evening.

As if you could explain his behavior based on your memories, and therefore feel like you still know him. That the man in front of you is still tied in a way to the boy you knew, and he hasn't turned into a complete stranger.

You hate that a part of you still cares about him. That something inside you wonders, despite his constant efforts at keeping you away, why he has become the person he is now and if there's still room for you in his life. Despite it all, that gentle wish to reconnect doesn't fade entirely.

At least it's easy to ignore when you're working with him, given he gets on your nerves constantly.

So, now that he's here to presumably call you over so you can rehearse (...you didn't pay attention to what he said), you can definitely count on his vexating self to distract you.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . 📽.ᐟ

Distract you he does.

"Can you at least try to give me some space? It's hot." Your complaints, music to Kaiser's ears, go on incessantly as you try to push him away.

"It's a cramped closet, we need to give that illusion to the audience." He smirks amusedly, trapping your wrists effortlessly.

"The camera's angle can work that out, you don't need to literally crush me!"

"But I prefer realistic acting. Do I just make you nervous, sunshine?"

You groan audibly, forcibly stepping out for a breather. Remember those extra rehearsals? You're currently on one of those, doing your next scene before you actually have to record after. It's a moment in which the main characters are investigating a dangerous area, and they're forced to hide in a cramped space to avoid getting caught. Give it up to Kaiser for making an exercise intended to make your job easier later, harder. And yes, he's now using that old nickname instead of the basic ones from before, just to make things extra personal for you.

"C'mon, get back in." He calls out teasingly. "Don't you want to get it done quickly when director arrives? We need to practice now."

"You're not really trying your best."

"Well, you'll have to deal with difficult people while working. I'm training you for it, so be grateful."

"Tch— whatever."

Back in the closet you go. Being pressed against this walking nuisance is mad awkward, specially with the way he's staring down at you with that infuriating smirk on his lips. Kaiser definitely has an issue with invading people's personal spaces, wether to intimidate or to make others uncomfortable.

You ignore this weird habit of his, focusing on your lines.

Yet somehow, this half-baked idiot forgot all of his.

"Are you messing with me? How did you forget? Thought you were a talented actor or something."

He shrugs, smirking deliberately. "It slipped my mind."

"Okay, then, just read the script."

"About that, I misplaced it."

His smirk widens slowly, all while you stare at him like he's grown a second head.

"...And what? You expect me to look for it?"

"Actually, yeah! You're a genius." He remarks exaggeratedly, pushing you out of the closet. "Since you care so much, why don't you look for it? I think I left my copy somewhere in my trailer."

"Why don't you look for it yourself?"

Another shrug. "We're not filming nor being supervised, I don't care about what happens here. But since you do..."

...You end up going so you don't bite his head off in the spot.

The walk to Kaiser's trailer is pretty short, but simply stepping away from him and inhaling fresh air does wonders to your mood. You invite yourself in with a key he threw your way, and hope you get this side quest over quickly.

Sadly, the blond doesn't keep his space as organized as you keep yours. It brings you back, if anything, your Michael always left a mess behind him everywhere he went. Clothes scattered in the bathroom after showers, shoes thrown randomly in the room where he took them off... You were always the one to remind and help him clean up so he wouldn't be scolded, a faint smile in your lips at the endearing memory.

It doesn't last long, as the current state of things is anything but.

As cute as the image of disorganized Michael is, Kaiser's untidiness is just mad annoying. In the main area, nothing is in plain sight, and you've found nothing so far despite several empty cola cans, some costumes and a good bunch of books. Psychology books, you note with mild interest, his kid self enjoyed those. Though neither you nor the adults understood his taste for them, considering the amount of kids storybooks available at the house.

You place his belongings neatly someplace else as you search, at least some things don't change. Moving to a clear plastic container with visible stacks of paper inside, you're marveled at how calming this is compared to dealing directly with your annoying co-star himself.

Your eyes quickly skim through the sheets, though your attention is stolen by a manila folder partially hidden by the rest of paper. Could he have put it there? The folder looks packed and a bit worn, but checking won't hurt.

Reaching for it carefully, you fish out it's contents.

A familiar handwriting greets you, forcing a gasp out of your lips.

Dear Michael, It's been three days since I left the house. I know I should be happy, but I can't get used to this new life. My new tutors are nice, though I can't see them as my parents. They understand, it's too early anyway. They encouraged me to make letters to my old friends so I'd feel better, and I immediately thought of you.

Your throat goes dry.

This is the first letter you wrote to him.

The exact same letter, with the careless handwriting and typos your fifteen self left even when trying to be formal. The words you dedicated to him just three days after leaving, each so natural and recognizable despite the pass of time. The worn, dog-eared paper in your hands, so foreign now that it's held by your rougher, older hands.

It's hard to believe, even when you have it right in front of you.

So in a desperate measure to believe what you're seeing, you keep reading.

I know you were sad when I left. You don't have to hide it, I was sad too. We talked so much about leaving, but I never thought we'd have to be separated for it to happen. I wish I had hugged you for a little bit longer... or that I hadn't cried so much I could barely say goodbye properly, haha. Sorry for crushing your bones. I'd do it again, though.

You smile wryly as you read, taking deep breaths to calm down. In the letter, you speak about your fears and expectations, just as you recalled. You mocked the format of your writing, telling him how weird it felt to be so formal only to write in the correct form. You called him Micha, just once more, for the sake of maintaining that familiarity between you. You bid him goodbye with the promise of more letters, telling him to please take care of himself.

You exhale shakily, putting it down for a moment.

Your eyes flit over to the rest of sheets, ready to go through them and confirm your brewing theory.

Micha Dear Michael, I'm glad to hear you're okay. You keep acting like you don't miss me, but I know you do! Yeah, I can analyze you even through the distance. It's called reading between the lines, silly. I've been fine this first month, you don't have to worry. No one's treating me badly, so you can stop overthinking. It's a bit weird to get used to life here... but it's not bad at all. I'm seeing someone to talk about my feelings too, and though it felt weird the first few times, I've started to feel lighter when I leave. There are so many things I wish I could show you, and stuff that I think about that I wish I could tell you. But I'd run out of paper I did, and my hand would hurt from all the writing! What I mean to say is, I wish you were here. I'll talk to my tutors to see if I can visit you someday. But in the meantime, don't be stubborn and let the others take care of you, okay? I'll go see you soon enough. Who knows? Maybe you'll be out there soon too, and I'd just have to visit you at your new home instead of waiting around for others' approval. Write back when you can. With love, Your sunshine (Haha can I write that? it's funnier than my name. I can already picture your face going red with anger.... You know what? I'll leave it there).

The letter leaves a bittersweet feeling in your chest. You were so innocent and naive, it's saddening to remember. You already know what happened after, but you still read it for yourself. When you reach for the following, your expression's already downcast.

Dear Michael, I moved from Germany. ...It all happened so fast. I wanted to tell you earlier, but I didn't know how. By the time I managed to get over my shock and write a response, we were already at the airport. So I decided to just make a new one, considering I've technically moved already. I'm sorry for reaching out now, It's taken time to process the news. This letter might arrive late to you, too. I was told the process of delivery takes way longer when it's overseas. It makes sense, but it doesn't make me happy. I'll keep writing to you, though, I promise you. I have too much in my head right now to say more. Again, I'm sorry. You said you didn't mind me telling you everything I wanted, so I'll repay you with a very long letter next time I write you. It's a promise, okay? So hang tight. I wrote in the outside that you should only open the letter when it's December 25. So, trusting that you did, happy birthday, Micha. I know these are horrible news to receive in your birthday, but if I sent a separate letter congratulating you, it wouldn't arrive on time... So I hope you don't mind I'm doing it here. I sent you something else too as a gift, so check it out, please. I hope you have an amazing birthday.

This one's frailer than the previous ones. Your bad, you recall. You wrote several drafts beforehand to avoid making mistakes, but you couldn't hold back your tears while doing your final one. It's a bit embarrassing, to know that the letter could've been better conserved had you not started sobbing while writing. Little does it matter, given everything remains readable. He clearly took good care of all of these.

Behind the letter, you find a birthday card you drew yourself. The colors are a bit faded, but the effort you put on every stroke is still evident.

You set it aside, going through the rest of pile.

And slowly, memories you thought lost return to you.

Hey Micha, I saw a stray cat that reminded me of you.

Dear Micha, I finally started reading one of those books you like, so I'll leave you my analysis here.

Happy birthday, Micha.

I got a part-time job.

Happy new year, Michael.

I'm saving up for acting classes.

Happy anniversary of the day we met.

I'm learning a lot of new things.

Happy birthday.

Happy new year.

Until all you have is radio silence.

Your hands shake as you reorganize them, the truth laid bare before you.

He kept your letters.

He kept them all, in order, in the best state possible. He's only missing the last one you sent, all because he wasn't there to receive it.

He claimed he didn't care about the past, but you found the letters in his work trailer as if he carried them wherever he went.

He acted like you weren't important. He lied to you.

But he kept them.

You're overwhelmed with emotion, the world coming at a standstill as you process the information.

And yet, when Kaiser finds you knelt in the floor, his posture tense and jaw set, all you can do is mirror his discontent.

"I don't remember saying you could snoop through my stuff." His voice cuts through the calm air, clear and brimming with held-back anger.

You don't flinch, standing up and facing him head on. "You kept them."

"And it was none of your business to know," He states, holding your gaze.

Kaiser's staring at you like he's waiting for you to cower and apologize for going through his things.

But the dismissiveness in his tone leaves you seething in anger, snapping as you shove at his chest.

"You fucking kept them, Michael! You lied to me. So much for not caring, huh?"

He catches your wrist, "And I don't care, don't get it twisted."

You roll your eyes sarcastically, "Oh, of course you don't. Because only people who don't give a damn about their former friends preserve the letters they sent them like they're a fucking treasure, don't they? You're the picture of nonchalance."

"Mein Gott— shut up!" He grits his teeth, "I didn't keep them because I give a damn."

A laugh escapes you at the absurdity of his claim, "So?"

"I kept them because they remind me that I can't trust anybody."

You pause, confusion freezing you. "...What?"

Kaiser runs a hand through his hair, his breathing unstable. "I keep them, because they remind me that everyone abandoned me. To remember how foolish hope made me back then, to crush it with my own hands every time I read a sentence you wrote. You know how much I waited back then? It kept me from going forward. I need them to remember the exact moment I realized nostalgia would bring me nowhere."

"What are you talking about? I never abandoned you." You try to reason with him. "I was taken out because they found a permanent home for me, I didn't leave you behind because I wanted to."

"Same thing! Same thing." He lifts his arms in the air, gesturing dramatically. "You still left me alone, didn't you? You were always the one with luck by your side. Noble dreams, pretty smile. You lost your parents, sure, but does it matter when you ended getting new ones?"

That hits a nerve. "Michael, what the hell? Don't you dare speak like that about my family. You think it doesn't hurt me? That because you had it worse, suddenly I never suffered? You'd be horribly wrong."

"Might as well be the truth!" He laughs bitterly, "Things ended up fine for you, anyway. You were one of the lucky ones picked out, while I had to crawl my way out myself towards a decent life. You want to know why I started acting? I got so good at pretending and learned so much about people's behavior that making money out of it was just a perfect extra. An excuse to seem human, and then a way to be accepted and loved. I was never wanted by anyone, and only by accepting that I began succeeding."

"I did, dammit! I always cared!"

"Oh, really?" A cold, empty smirk stretches across his face. "I don't believe you."

Your palm lands squarely against his cheek, wiping the smugness off of his face.

He remains frozen, eyes widened, while you're doing your best not to let your tears out in front of him.

You're panting now, and he's not looking your way. But you still walk into his line of sight, eyes zeroed on his as you finally break.

"You're an asshole, you know that? You're an insensitive, cynical man. You're right, you're not the person I knew. You let pain twist you into something unrecognizable, and I don't think I want to associate myself with the man you've become, either."

You wipe under your eyelids, making a beeline towards the door. Kaiser, still stunned, slowly turns towards you, processing.

"You want me out of your life? Fine, I'll treat you as nothing more than my coworker. But Kaiser," you look at him over your shoulder, "I hope you won't end up regretting your choice to walk your path alone at the end of the day."

The way his surname left your lips for once landed on him like a bucket of cold water. By the moment the crease on his brows begins forming, you're already out.

Anger showed itself too late, and it won't be long before it wears off and he's forced to face the true feelings this moment has stirred within him.

You wipe furiously at your tears when you're alone, telling yourself he doesn't deserve them. But too many things happened in such little time, so you end up giving in, allowing yourself a moment to grieve.

The two of you don't practice with each other any further, taking the time to cool down before the actual recording.

The script was on top of the damn microwave.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . 📽.ᐟ

Things have been quiet after that day.

Not in the mood to joke around that often, the two of you are exercising your acting skills to the max by pretending you're (still...?) normal about each other.

The rest of the actors and actresses working with you two (which you love, by the way, they're so much nicer than Kaiser has been to you) try to take this as good news at first, since you're focused on work and have stopped going at each others throats constantly. There's a heavier type of tension in the air, though, and the fact that even Kaiser is doing his job decently instead of messing with you at all times is more bad news than good ones.

It appears your words have gotten through him. He's still acting arrogant as usual, but you can tell it doesn't come as easy as it did before.

You wonder how he really feels about it, but then again, this man only talks about his feelings when he's mid psychotic outbreak. He really hurt your feelings that last time, so you won't fuck around and find out this once.

At least your director is happier than before, the differences you both still have on set being more easily solved now that you're both focused on performing.

But it's hard not to address the conflict between you two when the lines between fiction and reality blur as you act.

"Congratulations! You played yourself." Kaiser struts his way towards you, clapping slowly in a mocking manner. Your eyes widen in outrage, struggling against the two men restraining you.

"Did you really think I'd help you out of the kindness of my heart? I'm an opportunistic man. I side up with whoever can reward me better, and your team clearly fell short compared to what these guys offered me."

"Are you seriously going to help them? There are hundreds of lives at stake!" You heave, "This is too low, even for you!"

"Too low?" He scoffs, "That's rich, coming from someone who's always treated me like a criminal. You called me a lowlife, and you dare to act surprised I act like one. Surprise! I can turn a blind eye and stop you from ending this if I get paid a pretty penny. Real cute of you to trust me. Should've never done so."

"That's not true! This isn't who you are." You retort sharply. "I got to know the real you, I know you're not a bad person. You're not the monster you make yourself out to be."

"So, the moment it's convenient to you, I'm suddenly not a monster? Don't make me laugh."

He leans into your space, his forehead leaning against yours. Crooking a finger towards your chin, he lifts it so your defiant gaze meets his cold one. "I told you I was falsely accused, and you pretended to be sympathetic. All so you could break your part of the deal and agree to turn me in after we found the case's culprit. You thought I wouldn't find out? You never trusted me, so I have every right to betray you. In the end, you abandoned me like everyone else."

The remark makes your expression twist—flashbacks of your heavy argument returning. For a moment, you think the director will intervene, your unrestrained reaction ruining the scene. However, the cameras keep rolling, so you continue with your performance.

"That was before I truly knew you! I was planning to talk them out of it."

"And you thought you would have succeed? People like me can't afford to do things the right way. Everyone has turned their back on me, and I'd have to flee regardless if you tried to help or not." His grip on your chin weakens, fingers caressing your jawline before sliding off your face. The ire in his eyes has dimmed, his voice now laced with resignation. "It wouldn't work, sunshine."

The nickname makes your stomach churn, was that even a part of the script? You can't recall at the moment. You see him turn around and begin making his way out, and you can't help but commend him for not slipping out of character. However, it all felt so real, that it makes you wonder if he was even acting.

"...Wait, I mean it." You weakly muster, making him stop in his tracks. "You don't have to do this alone anymore."

Silence reigns the second after, before he resumes walking away. "It's too late."

The cameras keep rolling, focused on your posture, expressions... capturing different angles of the scene. All until the director yells "Cut!", and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

"Excellent, marvelous performance." He praises, getting up from his seat. "There were a few details that were unexpected to me, but it made it all feel the more real. You both did a great job, we might keep the whole scene. Seems like that chemistry work really paid off."

The actors who were restraining you for the scene let you go, muttering a lighthearted 'sorry' as they ask you if they held too tight. You reassure them, offering a tiny smile. Your mind's still somewhere else, eyes searching through the faces in the room before they land on a set of familiar blue eyes.

Eyes that were already fixed on you.

Kaiser's blank expression tightens for a split second, before he dissapears into the crowd.

Mercifully, director calls for a break, and you're left alone with your thoughts again.

You just filmed one of the most intense scenes of the whole movie in one go. You should be happy, but all you can think about is how ironic the situation is. How you had to tell his character he didn't need to be alone only days after you swore to the real him that you wanted nothing to do with him.

A funny thing, really, because when you uttered those words just now, it felt genuine. It's so cruel, the way the two of you push each other away yet can't seem to let the other go. Kaiser's as obsessed with you as you are with him, you're sure.

You take a deep breath, turning to your coworkers.

You can't help someone who doesn't want to be helped, and you're done chasing him.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . 📽.ᐟ

You're not even looking at him.

Kaiser's been through a variety of emotions since he started working on this project. He took in the challenge to work with you from start to finish, attempting to prove he's not the naive kid he was before. He faced difficult situations after you left, enough to think that seeing you again would not affect him after all the struggle.

But nothing, nothing in these few years has hurt him as much as your indifference.

His grip on the sink tightens, avoiding his own gaze in the mirror. He felt secure knowing he had your attention, like it placed him in a position of power in which he had something you wanted and he got to choose wether to give it. While you pursued him, your presence in his life was guaranteed. But your eyes have strayed from him, and he doesn't know what to do now that he's no longer wanted. He's losing control of the situation rapidly, and he's desperate to regain it.

Your laughter echoes in his head, his jaw tightening the more his mind replays it. You used to give him the pleasure of witnessing your happiness all the time as a child, but now you're giving that chance to complete strangers instead. He knows he hasn't done anything to deserve it, but it's maddening to see you fix your focus on others and let him slip from your mind. Slamming his fists against the sink once, his heavy footsteps carry him towards the couch.

He sees it then, the pile of letters he didn't bother moving that day. He had stacked and pushed them out of sight, but they're now back at stealing his attention.

His fists clench again, he could throw them away. Erase every trace of you as you now have the gall to do with him. It's a selfish accusation, he pushed you away first. But the pain has blinded him so much, he doesn't care wether he's being fair.

Reaching for the pile, he reads them one last time. Skims through the sentences, until anger build up inside him and he squeezes his eyes shut.

The paper shreds into multiple pieces when he tears through it, its bits flying around and making a mess out of his trailer. He doesn't stop until every sentence is unreadable, and your handwriting is unrecognizable.

Something akin to peace fills his body for a second, the emptiness in his chest feeling rather calming in contrast with the emotions he had been feeling lately.

It shifts into nothing when he opens his eyes, finding the stack still intact in his grasp.

With a ragged exhale, he lightly slams it on the coffee table, reaching for the folder where he's always kept them.

He failed to do it once again.

He can only hope that next time, he'll have the courage.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . 📽.ᐟ

Faint music plays in the background, muffled by the chatter all around the place. You sway in tune, following the rhythm, enjoying the rare moment of peace.

You're currently attending a minor event with Kaiser, in hopes you can do some networking and promote the movie further. It has you giddy, you have to admit. Working on this movie has brought you a lot of stress, but this is a good reminder of the opportunities it represents.

Even though this is work, you've been having a good time. You and Kaiser went separate ways almost immediately, only getting together when absolutely needed. This has given you time to talk to the other guests, meeting both new and old faces.

It's always a delight to see people you've worked with before, getting updated on what they're up to and telling them how far you've come. You get some new contacts as well, and have the chance to meet people you've looked up to for a while.

Albeit exhausting, these are the kind of moments that keep you going. Seeing your work get recognized and get to slowly make a name for yourself makes it all worth it. Hopefully, one day, you'll be the one to get approached by influential people first. For now, you'll just have to mingle and try your best to give a good impression.

You're two hours into the night, so you've distanced yourself from the crowds. You've exhausted your social battery, a solitary moment drinking they're offering and listening to the music sounds nice at the moment. Scanning the people around, your eyes find Kaiser after a while apart.

He looks composed, surely entertaining the guests around him.

But what really calls your attention is the glass of wine in his hand.

Kaiser... drinking? It shouldn't come as a surprise. But you remember his father was an alcoholic, and how much he resented even the smell of alcohol due to it. Of course, he could've changed his mind, he could've worked through his resentment and found enjoyment in it.

But with what you've seen of him, you doubt it. And maybe it's just the image of his past self that makes this sight conflicting, but it rubs you off in the wrong way.

Kaiser catches you looking, a smirk in his gaze. Lifting his glass like he's toasting, he brings it to his lips without breaking eye contact. You don't give him your attention for long, going to the bar area for a refill.

But you feel his eyes on you all the way there.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . 📽.ᐟ

The night's drawing to a close, the venue growing quieter as people chat quietly amongst themselves or enjoy the calm music without the earlier fuss.

Many of the guests have taken their leave, some leaving the hotel while others retreat to their rooms.

You were booked a room for the night as well, lucky to not have to worry about leaving so late to your regular hotel. You could've called a cab for sure, but it's comforting to know you can just stay here and deal with the streets in the morning. Due to this, you don't concern yourself with leaving the main area just yet. And you thank yourself for it, as you're now having a nice chat with a pair of photographers.

Thing is, they're pretty interested on getting pictures of both you and Kaiser since you're currently working together (and your promotional videos may have gotten a bit more popular than you initially thought).

The issue? Kaiser's nowhere to be seen.

You excuse yourself politely, telling them you'll see if you can find him. Navigating the place is easier now that the guests aren't scattered around, but you don't see his recognizable blond hair nor his striking eyes nowhere.

It's pissing you off, where's that idiot when you need him? He loves showing off to the cameras (he's specially annoying in photoshoots...), so you don't know where the hell could he be if not flaunting his skill and looks to a bunch of randoms.

After a few texts sent that weren't even left on seen, you take a step further and head towards the rooms. It's not that you're worried, coming back empty handed would simply be embarrassing. Remembering his room number was the one right next to yours, it's not hard to find it.

But you didn't expect to find the door ajar.

Now, that's weird. Did he get drunk or something? Out of habit, you feel the urge to scold him. You think for a moment that you should probably leave him alone, a drunk Kaiser has the potential to be worse than the one you know.

But while your hand hovers near the doorknob, strange sounds from the inside make you halt.

A familiar feeling of dread takes you over, pushing the door open.

And the sight that greets you knocks the air out of your lungs.

"Michael, what are you doing?!"

Kaiser's knelt in the floor while coughing violently, his hands coiled tightly around his neck. You rush to his side before you know what you're doing, dropping to his level.

"Shit—Look at me, stop that right now. Hey, listen to me!" You ramble frantically, your fingers trying to pry his away from his neck. It isn't working, specially with how he's thrashing around at your interference. He looks completely checked out, not a single word of yours registering in his brain. A particularly harsh jerk of his body pushes back and off of him, panic clouding your thoughts and actions.

"Michael, listen to me! I'm trying to help you." You insist, trying to get close again. But you don't get to reach his wrist in time, getting pushed away once more. Kaiser's stronger than you, and he won't let you come near for long. And as much as you want to coax him verbally, you can only make demands from your state of fright.

If something's clear right now, is that this is not the first time you've seen this happen. It's a really faint memory, but you can recall going through similar situations with him in a few occasions. You're trying to remember what your caretakers did, the methods they tried to calm him down, the words they used to soothe him in his episodes. But you can't bring yourself to tell him that everything will we okay or that he's safe, not when you don't fully know that yourself.

Tears sting at your lash line, you feel so small right now. It's like you're seeing little Michael again, going through something you can't yet understand. It's like you're a helpless child, freezing in fear and getting pushed out of the way since you can't do anything to help.

But no one's here to be the competent adult that knows what to do, and you feel so defenseless.

So, without knowing, you slip into that vulnerable feeling, approaching his body from behind and embracing him like when you were a naive child.

"Michael, please." You insist quietly, feeling his body still for half a second.

Once more, you attempt to push his fingers away. You saw them try it the few times he did this, you don't know if you're doing it right. But god, you'll try. You'll try until his hands give way.

"Hck—go away," He barely manages, panting harshly. But you shake your head and press closer, struggling to keep your tears at bay.

"I'm not leaving right now. Don't do this to yourself." You plead, voice shaking and heart aching with every word you utter. "Micha, will you listen to me one more time?"

A ragged breath leaves him, his hands finally letting go of his throat.

Only to half-heartedly push you away, it seems.

You pay no mind to his action, a tinge of relief crossing your features. You still can't be idle for long, as Kaiser's hands now move to cover his face through his sobs and coughs.

"Michael, no," You spring into action, gently grasping his wrists. "You need to breathe. Focus on your breathing."

Now that your head's clearer than when he was in active danger, you concentrate the best you can on helping him.

He still attempts to push you away, angling his body in the direction opposite to yours. "Don't— don't touch me."

"Okay, but I need you to listen to me. Just... focus in the sound of my voice, okay?"

Your hands leave his wrists, and he immediately misses their warmth. He turns back to face you, eyes widened, but he can't bring himself to ask for it back. "What... Why are you even here? I hate you." He splutters, choking on his own tears. "It's all your fault. I hate you."

"Say it all. Yell if you can. If you need be mean, be mean to me. But don't push me away, at least this once. I just want to help you, Micha."

His heart breaks at how easily that stupid nickname falls from your lips in this moment.

And before he can lie to himself for longer, he surges forward, wrapping his arms around you.

You stiffen, but your body eventually relaxes. Quietly, you whisper, "...Come on, breathe with me."

Guiding him through the motions, you inhale and exhale while giving him indications. He doesn't follow immediately, but eventually, he attempts it. After a good amount of tries, his frantic inhales transition into something smoother. The hitches of his breath become less frequent, and his sobs have turned into quiet sniffles.

His face remains tucked against your shoulder, and somewhere in between, you rest your hand against his scalp and caress his hair gently.

He shudders at the sensation, squeezing you tighter.

And in this moment of vulnerability, he rasps, "Mein Sonnenschein. Ich habe dich vermisst." (my sunshine. I missed you.)

Your lips part in surprise at his choice of words. You haven't heard that in years, and you didn't know just how much you missed it.

A scoff of disbelief leaves your lips, but it's more fond than anything. "You had to wait until I wanted to leave you alone to say it," You complain halfheartedly.

"I was terrified you did." He whispers against your skin. "I thought I had learned to live without you, but you appear again and I'm disarmed. I try to keep you at arm's length, but I tremble at the thought of you dissapearing. I worked so hard to be where I am now, yet someone like you who left me once still has power over me. I hate it, what you do to me."

"I never wanted to leave you."

"But you did." His tone hardens briefly, before he eases back into a whisper. "You left me, and then I had no one to help me pick up the pieces of the broken mess my parents turned me into. So I realized, maybe I was meant to be alone from the start. And you coming back feels like destiny's taunting me, tempting me with a life I don't deserve to have."

Your throat dries at his confession, you don't find the words to reply. A self-deprecating laugh is his answer to your silence, a finger idly feeling up the texture of your clothes.

"You know... After you left, I didn't know what to do with myself. It wasn't the same, and you were drifting away from me faster than I could manage. I hoped I'd get adopted like you did, be so loved I'd manage to forget you. But nothing compared to the love you showed me. And no one ever came to save me."

"What happened after you left foster care...?" You ask softly.

A beat of silence passes, before he answers.

"I was stranded and had no support, until a man approached me. He thought that, with my face, I could make a good model. I didn't have anywhere to go, so I followed. It didn't take long until he, who worked in the movie industry, thought I could do even better in it instead. Maybe he found out about my parents, who cares. What matters is that he invested in me, and it worked out in the end."

"Michael... that could've been dangerous." You whisper, concern lacing your features. You've been wanting to know these answers since forever, but maybe you weren't ready to know what happened.

"It could've been, but it wasn't." He stated matter-of-factly. "I had no other choice. I got out of the streets for once and for all, and all I had to do was act. It was so easy, mastering the act of pretending. My fixation in psychology paid off, apparently."

You listen quietly, heart aching at how much he'd been through. He speaks of his life in an almost surgical manner, detached like it's just how things were supposed to be for him. You feel the urge to comfort him, correct his view on himself and the world. But you know he can use a listening ear over a helping hand at the moment. Fiddling with the blue ends of hair, you let him continue.

"You asked me once why I got into acting. I answered when I was mad, but I'll tell you now in the right way. I didn't get into it by vocation like you. It felt like survival, as most things in my life. Why I keep doing it? I'm not sure. Maybe I've found comfort in it, or I've gotten too good to stop."

He pauses for a moment, reminiscing, before continuing. "I remember wanting, if for a moment, to be as good as my mother so she would notice me. But that thought turned bitter, and I've stopped chasing it. I hoped I'd maybe grow to love it in the way you do, feel the same you did when you talked about your dreams with those sparkling eyes. But I couldn't tell if I envied you or if I missed you. So I stopped asking myself how I felt about it."

"Isn't it ironic?" He leans back to look at you, smiling sarcastically, "All the important people in my life had something to do with the film industry, and I ended up doing the same. No matter how much I tried to become a new person, I always kept parts of my past with me."

Kaiser's lips part, maybe to mock himself again or to jest about the cruel twists of fate. But he falls short once he notices the dried tears in your face, and the worry you look at him with. His hands twitch, but he doesn't move them towards you. A heavy exhale is what comes instead. "You're still the same as a remember you. Too good for me, too perfect for me to touch. I still can't tell if I want to push you away to avoid tainting you or because I can't handle the envy I feel."

"Maybe you should stop comparing your pain to mine and realize I've had my own share of suffering." You respond, your tone firm yet not unkind.

"I know you do, Sonnenschein." He concedes, to your surprise. "I found comfort in knowing we were both navigating our own struggles, no matter how different they were. But sometimes, I'd get too fixated on my own pain, and telling myself you have it better makes it hurt just right. I didn't know how to comfort you, so I turned to pick at my own wounds. I've always been like this, only by distancing myself I can be safe."

"Is that really how you want to live? Driving a wedge between you and the people you love. I don't care if you don't know how to comfort me, just being beside me will do. You don't have to explain how you feel, either, just come to me when you're hurting. I never knew how to make you feel better, I just kept trying. I failed often, don't you remember? But I never left you alone." You give him a bittersweet smile. "You really, really, don't have to do this alone anymore. We didn't have a choice before, bu now we do."

Kaiser's eyes grow damp all over again. Heavens, he hasn't cried this much since he was a little kid. You do have a way of making him act like his younger self. Your fingers brush his cheek tenderly, and he shudders.

"...You told me once you hoped I'd find someone who'd love me." He broke the silence, musing thoughtfully. "Turns out, you were always that person for me."

"...Since then?"

"Specially then."

"But I..." He looks away, smirking wryly, "I don't know how to love someone the right way."

"I think you're doing a good job now. Don't you want to want to try?"

"Heaven knows I want to." He confesses tiredly. "But I've changed. keeping my walls up has been what has kept me alive."

"It's kept you alive, but it may end up killing you." You pause, "Also, I don't think you've fully changed."

"You say that, but I'm not the same boy you knew before."

"You are."

"I'm not."

"Micha, you are."

He's growing annoyed at your insistence, but that little word stops him from lashing out. These days after the argument in which you've only been calling him by his last name were hell, he can't help but relish on how beautiful his name sounds coming from your lips. He purses his lips, thinking up a way to retaliate, but you interrupt him. "What date is it today?"

Almost immediately, he answers, "The same as in the day we met."

You smirk, "Is that why you were drinking?"

He curses, "You know me too well."

You laugh softly, shaking your head. There's a pause, before he speaks again. "...I thought it'd make you pay attention to me. I couldn't stop thinking about you the whole day, hoped you'd at least mention it. But in the end, you kept your word, and treated me like a stranger." He looks away. "…I couldn't stand feeling forgotten by the one person I couldn't ignore."

"You could've talked to me first. I would have pushed my pride aside." You rest your forehead against his, earning you the return of his eyes to yours. "All I've done all this time is wait for you to come around."

He groans, "I know, I was stupid. And rude, and cruel—"

"Continue."

He clicks his tongue, "…Brat."

You chuckle, "I'm right."

A sigh leaves him. "...Ja. But it all piled up until I couldn't handle it. And, well. You know what happened."

Humor leaves your face when you remember the state you found him in. You brush a few of his loose hair strands back, his eyes fluttering shut.

"If this is what it takes for you to pay attention to me..." He mutters mindlessly, and your breath catches.

"...Please just talk to me."

The corner of his lip lifts, gaze dropping to yours. "I'll consider, if my sunshine always treats me this nicely."

You smile, "I can try, when you're not being an asshole."

Your breaths mingle, the closeness making the two of you feel dizzy. No more words are exchanged, but the air feels heavier. Your lips part, you don't know for what, and he looks away. You lean back slightly. The night's been to emotionally tiring to add more to it.

Despite the weight to the moment, you still feel immense relief from having gotten to get all that out of your chest. You don't want to do anything reckless now, you need to know if he'll keep his word tomorrow before acting.

Still, you allow yourself a few more moments of weakness. Caressing his blond locks, tomorrow dissolves into nothing at the mere thought of never getting to have this in the future. This is right where you want to be right now, and you intend to enjoy it. Your Michael seems to think the same, leaning his head back against your shoulder.

"Are you okay, Micha?"

"Better now, Mein Sonnenschein."

You don't return to your room that night.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . 📽.ᐟ

The morning after, you take a bit longer than usual to wake up.

The sheets' softness makes you stay glued to the bed, and it's only after some time of being half-conscious that your mind activates and remembers time and place.

You sit up immediately, taking in your surroundings.

Of course. You never left to your own room last night. You mind goes over to the events that happened only a few hours ago, and you enter this weird state of awe.

You can't believe everything that happened, and you certainly would've thought it was all a dream if you weren't literally in Kaiser's hotel room.

You try to remember the last few moments before you fell asleep, like how and when did you even get to the bed, but you went through so many emotions that you can't recall those details.

All you can remember is the weight of a body resting against yours, its familiar warmth enveloping you in your sleep.

You look down at your body, just in case, finding you're positively clothed. Seems like nothing much more happened, to your relief. You still have to figure out where you two stand after yesterday, it's never good to rush with someone as complex as Kaiser.

On that note, he's nowhere to be seen. It's a bit disappointing, you would've loved to just turn around and find him there with you (only to directly ask him how he feels about last night. Obviously). You have no time to think about that, hit with the realization that you don't know the time, where your phone is or any work-related news. You make quick work of leaving the room and gathering your belongings, checking out at the lobby.

When everything's set, you reflect on how happy you are that you don't have to be at the studio today. You pray no one paid close attention to your or Kaiser's whereabouts last night, or else the rumors won't be pretty.

You're thinking of calling a cab and going back to your usual hotel room, then hitting up Kaiser's phone when you're settled in the familiar environment to face the music. However, a teasing voice you know very well breaks your focus, setting your plans upside down.

"Awake already?" You turn around slowly, you could tell it was him just from the tone. It doesn't ease the faint shock of seeing him when you thought him gone, eyes widening slightly while he smirks. "You almost got me in trouble, sleeping in at my room like that. Was wondering if I'd have to look for you personally before they kicked us out of the hotel."

You feel a wave of embarrassment wash you over, but it's quickly overridden by annoyance. "You could've just woken me up, you asshole. What if we had had to work? What if someone found out I just came out of your room, not mine?"

He shrugs, "In both cases, I would've turned my back on you, so you would've had to come up with a really good excuse."

You flip him off, "Backpfeifengesicht." (roughly translates to someone with a face that begs to be slapped.)

He grins, "You know you love my pretty face."

You roll your eyes, wishing you could wipe the smugness off his face (...though that didn't end well the last time). Even with emotional weight hanging between the two of you, you can't unlearn the reactions you have to his mocking. This time, though, it feels more like banter than dealing with someone you can't stand. The absence of the underlying stress you used to feel when arguing with him is most refreshing.

"Don't look at the person who'll give you a ride with those murderous eyes." Kaiser quips, throwing you for a loop.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. You're coming with me to rehearse. We usually did on Sundays, didn't we?"

"...Yeah, because the director suggested it so we could work on our chemistry. But he said it's not necessary anymore," You muse obliviously.

"We're filming the final scenes soon, sunshine. You could use some practice with your co-star." He insists, leaning into your personal space as usual. You almost smile, this feels so casual while also representing a certain peace you haven't felt around this man for years.

"Sure, but you also owe me brunch for making me work on my free day." You compromise playfully, appreciating the easygoing atmosphere.

Kaiser gives you a look that could mean anything between sure and hell no, turning to his phone to make the necessary arrangements. Soon after, you're both sitting in the back of a partitioned car, a small screen serving as barrier between you two and the driver for extra privacy.

Even with it, things are quiet inside. Kaiser's not teasing you anymore, looking trough the window with a pensive expression that belies his usual confidence. The mask is off, you realize, and you can see though the cracks. Taking in the slight tiredness in his eyes from the night before, and noticing the faint marks on his neck despite the bright blue rose tattoo stealing the attention.

Kaiser's clearly trying to act normal, and you give him credit for not pushing you away so far as he does after emotional moments. Maybe that's the answer you're looking for, but you'll need more proof to know he won't eventually rise his walls and lock you out.

You lift a hand without much thought, fingers gingerly grazing his neck.

He flinches violently, eyes snapping back to you in an instant.

"What?" He asks roughly, your sudden action making him defensive. But your touch remains light, resting your palm against the skin of his neck, before sliding down to his shoulder.

For a moment, he thinks you'll bring up the marks. His expression sours, a hand reaching for your wrist to pull it away from him. But you before he can, you whisper, "You never told me what your tattoo means."

And the curiosity in your tone, opposed to the pity he expected calms him down.

"Achieving the impossible." He whispers, lowering his hand. "Overcoming adversities."

"Because blue roses don't grow up in nature."

"Kluges Köpfchen." (clever little head.)

Your hand slides further down to his arm, his short-sleeved shirt giving you a nice view of the rose's thorns. You swear you feel him shiver at the contact, specially with how he clears his throat after. "Are you inspecting me in a purely artistic way, or do you just want to touch me?"

"Maybe a little bit of both."

"You wouldn't be the first one to want to," He remarks arrogantly.

But you can feel how on edge he is from just a little touching.

You let go, wanting to leave an effect but not to overwhelm him. Your hands move to the collar of his shirt instead, fixing so it properly covers the bruises blemishing his skin. You saw him fiddle with it absentmindedly, a nervous reflex he couldn't control. You want to replace his self-deprecating habit with a kinder, loving one.

Kaiser stares at you in bewilderment, unused to this domestic tenderness you're displaying. He quickly feels the urge pull away, retreat into the safety of distance that's always protected him. However, a feeling of comfort slowly washes him over, all since it's you who's doing this, caring for him as always.

It's funny how you always cared for him in all kinds of ways, yet he never got used to it even though it was a constant in his life.

You wish to erase the tension he feels when someone touches him affectionately, make him acquainted with the love he's always been so unused to.

"I like it," you break the silence, referring to the tattoo, "but you need to stop hurting yourself so you can show it off."

He catches on what you're implying, brows furrowing. "Tch. Don't compliment me only to try to control me."

"I mean it," you pull back, "come to me instead."

Kaiser crosses his arms, facing the front now that you've taken distance.

"You're doing too much," He mutters between clenched teeth.

"You're doing too little," You retort softly.

He takes a deep breath, and you notice he's struggling. It's been like this the whole morning, and it's specially notorious with how snippy he gets now that you're pushing his buttons.

Hissing at you like a stray kitty.

No matter how much time passes, he's still the same in your eyes.

"You promised you'd stop pushing me away, Micha," You finally address the elephant in the room, cutting the chase. "I'm just checking in to see if you'll keep your word."

His expression's clouded, a heavy exhale leaving him. He avoids your gaze, "...I'm trying."

"I can tell you are, but I need you to take me up on my offer directly. I'll stay with you if you do the effort to let me. Pinky promise?" You lift your pinky towards him.

Your proposal takes him fully off guard. Slowly, his frown breaks into a small, genuine smile. You're going with such a childish thing for something this deep? He almost wants to laugh. Rolling his eyes, he humors you, linking his pinky with yours. "Whatever you say, Sonnenschein. Bossy as ever."

You smile, "Someone has to keep you on check, you know."

Kaiser's eyes remained fixed on the curve of your lips for longer than he wants to. You're so sweet to him when he tries, it genuinely makes him want to get to get better. He lifts his eyes to yours, and he finds them sparkling as ever. His ocean eyes, finding your starry ones. Oh, starry eyes. They forever shall be his, if he has a say on it.

He snaps himself out of his reverie, the tightness in his chest still there, but in a fonder form. Straightening up, he fishes his phone out of his pocket. Unlocked, it's handed over to you. "Give me your personal phone number. You'll never get rid of me now."

You shoot him a grin as you take it, "Wrong, I'm the one who's always haunted you."

Kaiser doesn't respond, but god knows how right you are.

The rest of the ride is quiet, but the discomfort from facing the situation is melting into something hopeful.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . 📽.ᐟ

Days pass by a blur since that promise.

Before you notice, it's mid-August, and you're almost done filming your current project.

Expecting to wrap things up by the end of the month, you've been working extra hard to ensure quality, acting out the remaining scenes at home, doing script analysis, memorizing lines to near perfection and getting the best out of advice.

Work's keeping your schedule full, and yet, you're strangely calm. The intense emotional turmoil you were facing has eased, therefore focusing on the film is no longer as taxing.

With Kaiser, your days have been relatively stable. You don't need to practice together as much as you may have needed it before, but it's so enjoyable you don't mind putting in the extra work. Where before you only exchanged backhanded comments and sharp glares, the banter now continues, but in a pleasant, almost friendly way.

You haven't addressed what happened directly again, but you can tell that things are different between you two. Your shared past used to loom over you like a burden you couldn't escape, but now you think you can reconcile with it and move forward—and you have the feeling Kaiser thinks the same.

That's not to say that there's no longer tension between you two, rather that it's steered in a different direction. The air shifts intimately in certain occasions, forgoing the rage and resentment of your early days and taking a softer approach.

You feel it when you perform small acts of service for the other, letting them know they're seen. Whenever there's the chance to show how well you know each other, when you discover in which ways time has changed you.

It's in the lingering eye contact you sometimes share, the accidental brushes of skin. What was used to attack and provoke still heightens the unspoken dynamic, but in a completely different manner.

You don't overdo this type of interactions, your relationship won't be rebuilt so suddenly. You think maybe after finishing up this project, you could take the time to reconnect properly.

Now, it's a bit hard to act casual in the meantime when you remember you're filming a movie in which the main characters end up together.

The good news is that the romance only picks up near the end, and those scenes will be easier to make now that you and Kaiser are in better terms.

The bad news is that the end is now, and while things would have been worse had you never worked through your issues, your relationship is currently in a sensitive, volatile stage and now you actually care for what happens to it.

It's not that you think this will ruin your brand new truce... You were just kinda hoping you'd have time to figure things out. Of course, you think of yourself as a professional and this is just work, but you were hoping the weird tension hanging between the two of you would dissapear soon enough. This will not help you move towards that future.

Whatever, you're overthinking things. Looking over at Kaiser who's now getting his hair fixed, you think you can learn a thing or two about the calm he's displaying.

He meets your gaze, smirking instantly, "Try not to gag when you have to kiss me in stage, sunshine."

You stifle a laugh, instantly relaxing. "Try to be a good enough kisser so I don't puke right after."

"You think you'll be better than me?" He raises an eyebrow, eyes glinting playfully.

You hum exaggeratedly, "Differently from you, I've actually been cast for characters with a romantic life before."

Something in his gaze changes, his tone almost taut now. "Oh?"

"Yeah, they were just minor roles though, so we didn't do much." You shrug.

"Not like I care, I'll still be the best one you've ever had." Kaiser tries to retort confidently, but you hear the slight jealousy to his tone. It's so silly to poke and prod him like this. He still sulks when you suggest your attention is on someone else, just like he did when you talked to other kids when he wanted you around.

"We'll see, we'll see." You smile, the interaction ending in a nice, calming note for you.

Yeah... you'll be fine.

Best friends kiss can kiss if it's for work, right?

. ݁₊ ⊹ . 📽.ᐟ

The scene is set in a high place with a gorgeous, panoramic view of the city. You stand alone, cameras centered on your frame ready to capture your every motion. There's a wide range of feelings mirrored in your face, from awe, to concern, to something like grief.

In the current story point, the case has been solved due to the ex-convict's change of heart. He confessed that the words the detective said had been carved into his head, that he couldn't forget the time they spent together. Making the critical choice to turn his back against the criminals, he successfully sabotaged the operation, putting his own life at risk to give your team a chance to salvage the situation. While the world celebrates the success and lives saved, the lack of news regarding the man behind the benevolent action weigh heavily in the detective's heart.

Running away to the place he mentioned he went to when he needed peace, your character ponders if everything was worth it. If they'd ever see the ex-convict again, if they'd get to discuss their relationship or at least thank them.

"Did you miss me?" Kaiser's voice comes right on cue, answering those questions right off the bat.

Your freeze, acting like the words didn't even register at first. Turning around to find him standing there, the sight knocks the air out of your lungs. "You..."

"It's me." He repeats with calm confidence. And God, it's moments like this you feel like he was a perfect cast, his annoying signature smirk fitting his character's arrogant personality perfectly.

You rush to his side, panting, shock evident in your face. "You're alive!"

"I am." He states, turning your surprise into outrage.

"Stop repeating my words back to me, this isn't funny!" You hit weakly at his chest, "You risk your life, survive, and don't even think of letting me know!?"

"Is it that bad I didn't?" He starts smugly, but his expression begins shifting. He mulls over his words for a moment, before he adds, "...I just didn't know if you'd want me back after how I treated you."

A beat of silence passes, his words landing hard.

That is, until you groan loudly.

"God, you can't serious!" You run your hands through your hair, pacing in circles. Kaiser stares at you all the while, a fondness that feels a tad too real bleeding into his gaze.

"What does it matter?" You continue, facing him again. "You returned to my side! That's all i care I about."

"I did the right thing, and it's the bare minimum. That doesn't make me deserving of being back in your good graces."

"And who are you to decide that?" You argue, glaring at him. "I think I have say on what I allow and what I don't."

"You shouldn't," he scoffs lightly, turning to his side, "Not with how forgiving you are with scum like me."

Your expression twists, and you can't remember if you had planned it or if you're reacting genuinely. You grab his arm, making him face you again.

And though you've practiced these lines so many times, real emotion slips through when your eyes meet his.

"Do you think that what I feel for you changes just because you're a complex person? I ended up loving your flaws as much as with your virtues. I never stopped seeing your positive traits just because you showed me the worst parts of you."

He looks away tensely, "I'm not—"

"...The person I think you are? Sure, you can say that. But for someone who gave his best to only show the ugly, I can confidently say you still showed why you're worth staying."

Kaiser stiffens at your response, even he wasn't aware of how much it would affect him to hear those lines in person. There's a deliberate pause before laughs, a short, genuine laugh that pleasantly fills the air for a second.

"You're just as I remember, sunshine. I don't deserve you." ...You're glad the director liked the idea of him calling you that, or else you'd have to record again. "I better get in trouble again, if this is how you reward me."

"You better not, you asshole!" You push him back, another chuckle leaving him, "Just come to me directly if you want to be reassured."

The parallels are deep frying your brain like never before. With him, it's no use how many times you study the script or practice. You always end up feeling emotional while acting this type of scenes, needing to spend more energy on holding back than on expressing emotions.

At least it makes the scenes feel more real.

You just wish it didn't affect your personal life like it's done before.

Kaiser's arms wrap around your waist, the contact sending sparks through your body.

As if this wasn't fake.

As if you weren't acting.

He pulls you in until your body is pressed against his, and it takes great strength not to break character.

"I think I quite like it when I act up, actually," That Cheshire grin reappears.

"Of course you do, if not you wouldn't have betrayed me." You quip in response. "Had you sticked to my plan, things would've gone smoother."

"But that's no fun, is it?" He purrs, arms tightening around you, "I love the face you make when you get mad."

Once more, you physically push him away, "Of course you do."

Not reacting to your sarcasm, his tone drops. "There's a expression I like a bit better than that one, though."

"Huh?" His hands are make a move for your face before you can properly voice your confusion, "What do you—Mmph—!"

And, just like that, he pulls your head forward and locks his lips with yours.

Genuine surprise overwhelms you the first instant. You knew it would happen, yet your hands still lock up at your sides at the foreign feeling.

The next second, your mind seems to catch up with what's happening. Instinctively, you close your eyes, arms wrapping around him as you kiss him back.

All the directions you were given for the scene flee your mind, led only by feeling. He slides a hand down to your back to keep you pressed against him, while a hand of yours tangles itself in his hair.

His lips are so soft it's unreal, you can't get enough. You dreaded this moment so much when you first came here, but now you can't stay away. All your emotions, all you've been through, it all comes down to this moment.

And suddenly, it's crystal clear: This is right what you want with him.

Kaiser is the first to pull back, leaving you embarrassingly chasing his lips. Your eyes slowly open, remembering reality, time and space. Of course... you were filming all this time. Had he not taken distance now, you probably would've gotten carried away.

You blink a few times, like waking up from a blissful dream. Kaiser's hand in your face traces your cheek gently, making them warm more if possible.

"That," He whispers, rubbing his thumb up and down your jawline, "Is my favorite expression of yours."

and with that ending line, the director calls "Cut!", breaking the magic of the moment.

You awkwardly pull away, trying to regain your bearings.

Before you can worry about not being focused enough, the director surprisingly praises you.

"Great job. You survived the kiss scene." He remarks, sounding almost sarcastic. "At first I feared it'd be impossible to carry on with you two. Seems like you can actually display some good chemistry after all." Okay, rude.

Despite the comment, the director seems genuinely pleased, continuing with a few comments and directions moving forward. Even so, your mind's still on what just happened. You and Kaiser share a look for a bit too long, and you have to force yourself to turn away.

You can talk about it later. Or not. Just focus for the moment being.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . 📽.ᐟ

Alone in the dressing room, you're taking a breather from all the intensity. Filming went well today, that's the least of your concerns. The fact that your nervous system still is somewhat agitated deep down is what you're uncomfortable with.

You hear the door creaking open, startling you briefly. You turn towards the source.

"Michael?" Your treacherous heart skips a beat at the sight of him, mentally cursing your emotional slip. You watch him close the door behind him, his face not telling of any emotion.

"...I thought we were done for now." You add at his prolonged silence. "Do you need anything?"

"We have to go again."

You stare at him blankly. "...Where? To the set?"

He shakes his head, "The kiss, we have to redo it."

Your frown, puzzled, watching him step closer. "What? I thought we were going to keep the scene. We also filmed more takes as additional coverage. Is the director asking for it?"

"No," He pauses in front of you, "I am."

"Huh? Why?" You look at him in confusion. "It was fine, the crew loved it."

Kaiser smirks slowly, leaning into your personal space like always. "I just feel like we could do better," He shrugs half-heartedly.

That gets you strangely offended, arms crossing against your chest. So the kiss that felt so real to you was lukewarm for him? You're really going to slap him this time. Or again, technically. Pushing violent thoughts aside, you crook a finger towards his chest.

"What do you even mean? It was perfect." The air feels heavy with him so close, but you don't back down. "Are you saying I'm a bad kisser?"

He raises an eyebrow, "Fancy proving me wrong?"

"You think I'll prove myself just because you're doubting me?" You scoff. "It's not my fault if it wasn't good enough for your standards. I wouldn't kiss you again unless we had to."

It's a blatant lie, but you're too fired up to notice. Kaiser can does, though, your reactions from earlier telling him all he needs to know.

"Oh, Mein Sonnenschein... Hurting my feelings so cruelly." He clutches his chest, feigning hurt. "You've grown to be so hotheaded, you know."

"And you've grown to be horribly annoying. You irk me, Michael, that's why." You grumble.

"Oh, really?" He purrs, leaning in.

"Yeah." You state. "If you have something to say, then say to my face."

"I've been trying to," he remarks amusedly, "But let me cut to the chase. Kiss me again."

"I said—"

"No," He presses a finger to your lips, "I want to kiss you again. Not for the cameras. For me alone."

Suspiciously, you swat his hand away, "You want to critique my technique—"

"I want you."

Only then does it click for you.

"...Oh."

With a finger pressed to your jaw, he tilts your head towards his. His breathing fans over your face. "Convinced?"

You scoff softly, suddenly breathless, "...You should have just said that."

"I wanted to see you mad first." His gaze drops to your lips. "So?"

You smile, your hands framing his face. "I'm not letting you pull away this time."

When your lips meet this time, it's like sealing a oath.

The years of distance, the pain you've hidden, it all feels worth it.

You couldn't keep all of your promises while growing up, but you're sure things will be different this time around.

Perhaps your Dear Michael was lost to you through the distance, but you've found him again and you love the current him.

As for him, he'll have to admit.

You never stopped being his sunshine.

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚★ ┊ ┊ ⋆ ┊ ★⋆ ┊ ◦ ★⋆

— Extra Scene!

Kaiser sits comfortably in an armchair, hair damp and towel around his waist from his recent shower. Blue light glasses sit on top of his nose, laptop resting on his lap.

It's been a few months since that summer. The film you and him were working on premiered not long ago, turning out to be a success. Promotion and marketing campaigns only doubled down after filming, keeping the two of you busy. After several interviews, events, features in shows and public appearances, you've finally gotten room to breathe and things slowly settled back to normality.

Now that he has some time for himself, he occasionally feeds on his ego by seeing what people have been saying about him. He notices your name and his trending nationally in the entertainment category, and can't resist to scroll a bit through the recent posts.

kaiserxnameceo: the acting felt so genuine. kaiser and name must be in love irl frfr >funpolice: acting is literally their job bro. y'all so weird for shipping real people. if it looks real it only means they're doing it right >kaiserxnameceo: your username fits you snezhnaya.awaits: do you guys see the way they tease each other in the interviews??? there's tension in and out the set! i know two people who go way back when I see them 👀👀 >kaisercanhit: girl thinks that all germans must automatically know each other 💀 >snezhnaya.awaits: just say you're jealous smh die.kaiserin: ykw name can have him. didn't have much faith but for a first leading role it was pretty good. we also got to see kaiser in a romance setting so it's a win win >namemogseveryone: name's too much for him i fear >die.kaiserin: you keep name and i keep kaiser 🤝 mikasaswifey: i miss them already can they make another movie >name1stfanever: unfortunately name's not based in germany and is probably back home. all we have is the movie, promo videos and a dream >mikasaswifey: sigh. sometimes i forget they're not a thing anymore >name1stfanever: we'll just have to pray they make a sequel so they're forced to fall in love. it'll be tomdaya pt.2 trust

He leans back in the chair, amused. He can share the sentiment that he misses you and the time you spent together filming, at least.

He almost wishes you were here so you could see what everyone's talking about.

It doesn't go on for long, the door opening behind him followed with the most pleasant sound he's gotten to hear today: Your voice, teasing him.

"Micha⁓ I'm back. What are you doing?" You squeeze yourself in the armchair beside him, having no regards for his personal space. "Scrolling through the internet, I see. I thought der Kaiser didn't concern himself with what common folk thought of him."

"A benevolent Emperor always listen to what the peasants have to say." He jests, earning a groan from you.

"Yeah, yeah, shut up, I'm done with the roleplaying. I thought you said you'd be starting that new book you told me about?" You poke him playfully, "Why don't you stick to your books, school boy?"

"Oh, shut up," He retorts with a faint smile, grabbing your wrists and putting your hands away from him. He places the laptop in your lap, adjusting your positions. You're half-laying on top of him, but neither of you mind.

"You should see what the internet is saying, too," He suggests.

"Okay, okay, if it's caught your attention, I'll read." You lean forward a little, checking out the comments and scrolling from time to time. "'I miss them already, wish they were still together...' Damn, I didn't know we broke up."

"They never knew we got together."

You smirk, "Did we?"

He smacks your thigh, "Don't joke like that."

You laugh, nudging him away. "I'm just teasing, before you get all whiny. Let's see... oh, I have fans already, apparently."

"Not as many as I do, for sure." He teases, lidded gaze fixed on your face just to catch your irritation.

"It's not a competition, dickhead." You don't give him the pleasure.

Kaiser ignores your comment, fixing you so you sit properly on his lap before resting his chin on your shoulder. His arms are wrapped around your waist now, all without a word. You spare him the embarrassment of pointing out his clinginess, the screen catching your attention.

"Huh...? Check that out. 'they look good together, for two people who come from different backgrounds.' Ex-fucking-scuse me? that sounds classist, besides being blatantly wrong."

"They don't know a thing about me." Kaiser comments quietly.

"I do," You add, something inside you softening at the reminder.

There's a brief silence as the words settle in, before Kaiser's smirk returns. "...You know, Sonnenschein, if you dressed better, maybe people wouldn't suspect you have a humble background. It works for me."

You quite literally grumble. "Backpfeifengesicht. I'm going to slap you again."

He huffs, "Let me live that down, won't you?"

"Nah, you deserved it."

Kaiser knows better than argue, reading one more comment out loud. "Look at this. 'Watch them announce they're dating in a few months from now'." His eyes look for yours in amusement, "Should we just tell them?"

"No, not yet. Let them miss us, I like feeling important." You smile, "They'll have enough to put two and two together when they realize I moved back to Germany."

"Good call," He praises. Not that he wants to share your attention with the world just yet.

He'll show you off when the moment comes, but he likes the safety of having you only for him at the moment.

Michael feels you attempt to move, his arms tightening around you. "Where are you going? Stay," He complains instantly.

"I'm just picking up the snacks I bought earlier, so we can watch and eat something like we planned. I brought your favorite," You answer confusedly.

"No," He clicks his tone in annoyance, even though he had agreed to it earlier. How bratty. Closing the laptop and putting it away, he turns you around so you're facing him directly. "Forget about that, forget about everyone else. I want your attention fully on me now, ja?"

You laugh softly. Shaking your head. Oh, your Michael has always been greedy with your time.

Just cradle him in your arms. He needs you, even when he won't say it.

author's notes: my god, this took a while, but it was worth it to take the time to develop this story. im definitely restraining myself from writing so much in the next ones, though. i learned so much stuff while writing, and backpfeifengesicht has to be my new favorite word (exactly how i feel about kaiser y'all!). i might have some editing to do still, maybe ill change the decoration idk... i'll come back to move stuff around tomorrow. if you took the time to read this, tysm! <3

You utter the words so quietly, you don't even notice they left you. Bachira does, though, turning to you in curiosity. "What did you say?"

You suddenly feel self-concious, already shaking your head. "Um, you know. It's pretty windy, so it looks like the tree's waving at us."

Bachira stares at you with his bright, wide eyes, and for a moment you think of changing the topic to move past from the silly comment. But he looks back and forth between you and the tree, before smiling widely. "You're right! We need to wave back."

A laugh of disbelief escapes you, "It's just the wind, Bachira. The trees won't be offended if we walk past."

"But that would be rude to ignore them! Come on, let's do it now!"

Bachira makes you lift your hand with his, the two of you waving animatedly. "Hi, Mr. tree! Hello, Mrs. Tree! It's a lovely day, isn't it?"

"How do you know which are male and which are female?"

"I just know. Trust my judgement, I'm a nature expert!"

You can't help but giggle, not questioning him further.

The two of you wave to every tree you find in your way that afternoon.

❀˖ °

Another day, you're heading to the store together and notice an ice cream shop. Bachira comments something animatedly, swinging your joined hands. He always seems to want to hold your hand while you walk, and you allow him so you can keep an eye on him and stop him from running off in random directions. This time, however, you're barely listening, your pace slowing down while you stare at a cone being handed over to a child.

You sigh softly, muttering, "It's not even that good..." under your breath. And though you were thinking out loud, Bachira still listens.

"You don't like ice cream?" He asks, sorta pouting like he's waiting for you to confirm it to disagree. You shift your weight, hesitating, before responding. "It's not that... They don't make it the same way anymore."

A beat passes, before you bactrack. "I mean, it's not that deep. It's still good, but it's not the same. Does that makes sense? Forget it. We can get some if you want to."

"No, I get it." He sympathizes, to your surprise. "Some of the flavors are not the same I had when I was a kid. It sucks."

Your head lifts immediately, "Yeah! That's what I mean. The new ones are good too, but sometimes I'm craving the same flavor of ice cream I had once about ten years ago with my piggy bank money."

He laughs, "That's very specific."

"But I mean it, really. I remembered the name, but when I had it again the taste was wildly different. Some of the ice cream I used to get would have bits of fruits depending on what you got, but now you have to pay extra for it. How do I know they're making it with real food? It's hard to tell."

"That's why I sometimes prefer to just have things at home. My mom would probably make some good homemade ice cream. Actually, wanna ask her?"

"Bachira! I can't bother your mom with such a thing."

He tugs at your hand, giggling, "Come on, she'd love you. We'd help her too, she wouldn't mind!"

You hesitate some more, but his friendliness melts you. Nodding meekly, "Okay... we can try that someday."

"Yay! You'll see, maybe we'll recreate what you had as a kid."

You shake your head, laughing, "Whatever you say."

But you're already looking forward to it.

❀˖ °

Sometimes, you and Bachira get together after a long day of being busy with your own stuff. Tonight, he texted asking if you were nearby, and now you're having instant noodles in a random 7-eleven. Quiet reigns while you two remain focused on your cups, until Bachira notices you've been spacing out for a minute.

He nudges your shoulder with his, catching your attention. Leaning closer, he whispers, "You look like you're thinking something fun again."

Your eyes widen, profusely shaking your head. It's only happened a few times, yet you swear he's been paying more attention to you ever since. He never pushes you to say anything, and that won't change now. But under his relentless curiosity, you give up and whisper, "That senior lady would rock a short haircut."

Bachira snickers immediately, earning him a light slap on the arm from you. "Don't laugh, I meant it in a good way!"

"She'd look like Ellen. That's a rude thing to say!"

"Well, I was thinking of a bob cut, not a pixie!"

Bachira keeps giggling, making you sigh. You take another look at the elder woman, and after the mental image Bachira placed in your head, your burst into laughter as well.

"Gosh, you're so mean," You mutter, covering your mouth to muffle your chuckling.

"Come on, you saw the vision too." Bachira grins, before leaning close again. "Look at the cat with her, now. Doesn't it look familiar?"

You calm down enough to look over, analysing. "...Wait. That fat cat from Big Hero 6?"

"Yeah, Mochi!" Bachira holds onto your arm, "I want to pet it. Let's go over!"

"We were just laughing at her expense..."

"But she doesn't know. Come on!"

Once again, you get dragged along by Bachira, this time to talk to the older lady.

You were ashamed as hell at first, but she did let you two pet her cat. The noodles you left in the cup were cold when you remembered them, but it was worth it.

Before leaving the store, Bachira stops you, pointing at a maneki-neko with a waving paw sitting on top of the counter. "Wait, we have to say goodbye first!"

And given you waved at trees together once, it doesn't feel weird this time around.

❀˖ °

After that, you've started talking to him way more often.

Pointing at every little thing, only for him to double down each time and continue the conversation.

"There's an unusual amount of ants in the area." "Wanna investigate what brought them here?"

"...Have you ever seen a cow swimming?" "No. let's look it up!"

"Look at that tit." "Excuse me...?!" "The bird, that's how they're called!" "No one calls them that!"

"Do you think a kiwi and passionfruit smoothie would taste nice?" "I think I've made something like that with my mom before. You should come home and make more stuff with us someday!"

When you're not yapping about random stuff, you're people watching while you walk, trying to guess what strangers do with their lives. The amount of times you've gone from 'hippie working at a laundromat' to 'international spy stealing secrets form the government' is concerning. It never gets old (despite your newly acquired paranoia).

Sometimes it's nice to sit down in a bench when you've walked a while, though laying down in green areas is your favored choice. Like now, feeling the park's grass against your skin while you watch the clouds. You keep spotting the most random things in them, exhaustion filtering from your body.

You exhale softly, lost in thought. There are still moments of quiet between you two, that hasn't changed. Your eyes slowly dart towards Bachira's face, and he catches you staring. And though you look away swiftly, once again, he notices.

"Penny for your thoughts?" He asks lightheartedly, as usual.

And before you can talk yourself out of it, you whisper, "...Thank you for listening to me."

Bachira processes your words for a second, before chuckling lightly. "You don't have to thank me. It's always fun to talk to you!"

You suppress the urge to roll your eyes, smiling thinly. "Well, it's because you always know what to say. If you didn't reply with something fun each time, the conversation would die and it'd be nothing but a boring moment."

"What? No..." He retorts, his usual smile tinged with a certain sadness. He rolls over to his side, taking your hand and pushing gently to make you do the same. You follow suit, now facing him directly. Once he's sure you're looking at him, he resumes speaking.

"It's nice to hear you talk, I love everything you say. Sometimes you think of things I would never have thought of, and that doesn't happen every day!" He laughs to himself. "I love talking, but I like it more when you do it instead. So never stop in my account, okay?"

It takes you a moment to fully take in his words, emotion overwhelming you and leaving you speechless for a moment. You can't conjure up anything to say, giving him a nod and hoping that'll do the trick.

Bachira giggles once more, and god, his laughter has always been contagious. Holding your hand from force of habit, he looks back at the sky, while you actively fight the awe in your chest.

You've never felt so seen, not in such a pure way. However, when it comes to Bachira... It's always been his nature to treat you this way.

It makes you realize, maybe you've underestimated yourself. There's an ache that comes with that realization, but it melts into something fond the more you get used to it.

You take a deep breath, focusing in your environment again. His palm's warm where it rests on top of yours, grounding you until you follow his gaze to the sky.

"Hey Megs..." You break the silence, and immediately after you feel his gaze on you.

"Yeah?" He asks softly, waiting patiently.

"So, I haven't watched the movies in years, but maybe you have..." He's already grinning. "...If you were to write the script for a sixth Descendants movie, what would you make it about?"

Bachira sits up abruptly, beaming in excitement. "Actually, I have a lot to say."

You mirror his movement, sitting up as well.

The melody of his voice fills the air around you again, while you prepare to give your commentary.

And while the park's always been relaxing, now you know it's Bachira that's always made you feel lighter.

The theme you both land on is winter. After seeing that male's clothing is so lacking in the game (and that honestly girl's clothes are way better and more versatile), he halfheartedly starts picking what to wear with the default female model, listening to your indications and struggling his way himself.

Time runs out, leaving him with a questionable model. You give him credit since everyone's first run is kind of lacking, yet his outfit sorta makes sense (if we ignore that he has two hairstyles overlapping and he didn't have time to not be literally faceless). He managed to get his character a nice coat and pants, though it's obvious he didn't care much for the results.

When he really locks in, is when it's time to vote.

"...What is she even wearing?" Rin squints at his screen as if it would change what he's seeing, clearly dissaproving. "A skirt and no socks? She'd freeze in that. I'll give it zero stars if I can."

"That's a bit harsh, don't you think? At least it's cute." You respond to annoy him. "She's wearing a coat and leg warmers, too."

"Tch. Cute will not save you from frostbite." Rin deadpans. "She has no gloves, and the leg warmers won't do anything when you're not even wearing thermal socks or some warm stockings. Wear pants next time. Zero."

Rin is very appalled when he can't actually do a zero.

The following reviews are interesting to listen to. Rin is surprisingly vocal when judging the players, though he remains straightforward as usual. You didn't expect to see him this engaged. However, he has something to say about everyone, and you can't help but giggle at his comments, all followed by his atrocious rating.

"Those socks are not thick enough." 2 stars. "That sweater looks too thin." 1 star. "Short skirt and short shirt. Zero." 1 star (by default). All said in a quiet, analytical tone.

There's two exceptions for this rule at best, him quietly awarding 4 stars at max to those that fit his impossible standards.

"You're pretty stingy with your stars, no?"

"They need to understand the assignment."

You are not the exception to Rin's criticism.

"You're not wearing gloves either, you'll freeze." He comments under his breath the moment your avatar walks in.

"Well sorry I didn't have time for that, fashion guru."

"You're also posing too much like everyone else."

"Don't you like anything about it?"

He huffs softly and stays quiet.

He awards you with four stars shortly after, not going for five to 'not display favoritism' despite it's blatantly obvious.

Rin's model is the last one to present.

Too busy being a critical asshole, he had honestly forgotten he was supposed to compete as well.

He remains completely still as his character enters the scene, ignoring your advice for him to make it pose.

"The outfit speaks by itself." He states once you question him, making you wonder if he's randomly gotten confident or if he's just rolling with it because he knows it's kinda bad.

When the results roll in, he looks for your avatar's faces first thing.

And the shock in his eyes when he sees the girl from the beginning win first place is something you want to remember forever.

"How the hell did she win? Did she buy out the votes? That outfit's ridiculous and a total crime." His head whips your way. "Did you vote for her? How many stars?"

"I mean... her coat's pattern is real cute."

That comment makes him glare at you like you orchestrated everything.

"Rin, she's wearing ski goggles and all, that's so winter themed!"

"That's skiing theme, then, not winter. It doesn't add any points whatsoever."

You have to hold back your laughter when you see him scroll through the full results. You got third place—he miraculously didn't argue—while he was far away in 9th or something.

"I can do better, I wasn't focused." He surprisingly locks in.

And that's how you play three more rounds of DTI, with Rin learning how to use patterns among other features, doing a duo run with you per your request, and spamming pose 28 on his last round as you taught him.

All until he ultimately rage quits, being 2nd to someone he considers had a trash outfit.

"Lukewarm game. terribly rigged." He complains, chugging down water as if he had been running drills in the field instead of dolling up a virtual doll.

So you look through more games swiftly, before he gets too fed up and ditches playing altogether.

You try to get him to play Steal a Brainrot, but three minutes in (constituted of you showing him your brainrot collection) and he's out.

You point at Fashion Famous, telling him all on how it was the big dress up game before DTI, but he's clearly had enough of fashion contests today.

You end up making him play Adopt Me, which he accepted after you told him about the owl pets. Not paying any mind to dressing up his character or buying stuff for his house, he let's you walk him through taking care of his starter egg. He's confused on how an egg can eat, drink, among other things, but he diligently pushes through while blatantly ignoring any other game notifications (he's likely annoyed at every party invite and trade request. Asks you where can he mute them 2 minutes in).

Imagine his dissapointment when his egg cracks and a random ass animal he didn't want comes out.

"Why did I get a mouse? Those don't even come from eggs. An owl does."

"You really wanted it, huh? They don't come out from starter eggs at all..."

"Then how can I get one? You said there were owls here."

"Well, it's actually a limited pet, so you can only get it by trading."

A moment of silence.

"...But there are more fun things to do in this game!"

Famous last words before you're searching through servers for someone with an owl.

When you find someone willing to trade it, Rin's few possessions don't appeal to this random twelve year old kid in the slightest. You offer up some of your pets too, but it only ends with the kid mocking you two for even trying.

You see Rin typing a concerningly long text in the chat, and you have to make him close the game before he gets banned.

"...Okay, that didn't go well. My mistake." Cue head scratch.

"You fooled me." Rin broods, hands twitching from all the things he couldn't get to say to that child.

"...I forgot the pet was limited," You murmur meekly.

"Whatever. I don't like these games at all. I'm leaving."

Your hand flies to his wrist, "Wait! I'll let you choose something this time."

Rin pauses in mild interest, deciding to humor you one last time for the night.

The absolute jumpscare that greets you when you open The Mimic makes you regret your recent choice.

"Is there no other game? There are many horror games in Roblox..." You ask hesitantly, getting no actual answer. You knew you'd have to dabble in horror games eventually, but you hoped you'd start with something calmer like maybe Piggy, 99 Nights in the Forest or even Doors, which you've beat before.

But he chooses the one with the eldritch abomination in its cover. And with how he's taking in the voice acting, lighting and visuals appreciatively you know there's no backing out.

"There's a horror movie with the same name as this. Is it inspired on it?" Rin comments curiously in a low tone, brimming with quiet interest.

"...I don't think so, Rin."

"This appears too much budget for a kids game. It better live up to it and be somewhat scary."

You ignore Rin's comment, hoping this one satisfies him and he doesn't go looking for something worse. Having picked the rage book, you explore the streets, eliminating threats and getting to the school's stage in little time. You steal glances at Rin's focused expression as he reads through the notes to know more about the yokai, and he appears to be fully in his element.

A shrill scream escapes your throat when you're both first killed, the jumpscare making your heart beat faster.

But Rin's annoyingly amused by it, if the quirk at the corner of his lip says anything.

"...Are you laughing at me? We both died!"

He shrugs. "I didn't scream."

"Rin!"

"Hush, we have to kill this thing."

It is incredibly vexating to you how locked in he is with the game, learning the ropes and figuring out what to do with surprising ease. As the a horror enjoyer he is, you shouldn't be surprised, but it's annoying to be unable to hold back your screams while Rin's worst reaction so far is him flinching slightly in his seat. If you fear spiders, Akari's stage is significantly worse for you, while this only makes Rin more invested. You decide you've had enough after finishing the book's chapter one, though Rin seemed to want to follow through with the second.

At last, you found something he seemed to enjoy from start to finish.

"...We should have played a game like this from the start. It's not so lukewarm as the other games on this site."

"My sore throat doesn't agree."

"Skill issue."

Despite your initial belief, you're the first to tap out fuly from your and Rin's roblox session.

You're definitely repeating it some other day, though. You already want to see his reaction when you make him play something ridiculous like Escape the Keyboard next.

You burst into laughter, watching as he grumbles in annoyance. "What kind of name is that?!"

He doesn't bother answering you, peeking at you from between his fingers. "Who told you?"

You press a finger to your lips, "It’s a secret!"

"Well, I can probably guess—"

"Don’t!"

Another groan from him follows, before you're laughing again. It isn't exactly that Onazi is ashamed of his name, rather that he knows the teasing menace that you are. You wouldn't be the first person to joke about it, but you're always the least likely to let him live anything down. And with that look in your face, it's clear you're ready to strike again.

"So…"

"Don’t."

You smile, "…I bet you've never hurt a fly in your life."

He crosses his arms, "Not funny."

"Have you?" You arch an eyebrow.

"…Probably?"

You beam, "That’s a no in my book!"

"I've done bad stuff!" He argues, arms crossed. But that chesire grin on your face just widens, ready to question him.

"Like?" You lean in, waiting.

"Well... I once didn't pass to one of my teammates when he was open."

You tilt your head, "Onazi, you're a striker. It's normal to keep the ball to yourself for a bit."

"Still..." He sighs.

"You're just proving my point you know? Your name does fit you. I'd also call you Innocent, if it was my duty to name you. I mean, look at that face⁓!" You coo playfully, pinching his cheek. Meanwhile, Onazi's trying hard not to let your gestures amuse him, lest he makes you tease him further.

"That's not all there is to me, you know?" He quips, trying to pry your hands away from his face, "I'm really strong and capable."

"Okay, Innocent."

"Don't sound so sarcastic!"

All that's heard from the room after is the resounding sound of your laughter, amused at every little thing that comes from the interaction.

And to Onazi's demise, this is just the beginning.

⭑ ๋࣭ ⭑ ๋࣭ ⭑ ๋

"Are you two going somewhere?" Kuso asks, spotting Onazi by the door and you picking up your bag.

"Yeah," the corner of your lip quirks, "...just picking up something to eat with Innocent."

The word barely registers. "Innocent…?"

Onazi's soul leaves his body for the second time this week.

♡ Exhibit A: Possessiveness !

Ness is not controlling with you. He lets you wear whatever you want, doesn't mind when you go out with friends, and besides some mild sulking, he doesn't even stop you from seeing male friends or teasing him about his jealousy.

You find it so adorable, how unsure he looks when someone he doesn't know well enters the picture. He may ask to accompany you, especially if you're going alone with that person (which doesn't surprise you because it's Ness, your clingy boy who asked if he could join girls night once.) But unless he really doesn't trust them, a few kisses and reassurance from you is enough to bribe him.

You think he's so attentive, with the way he texts to check on you and waits by the door for your arrival when he's free at home. That is, if you convince him not to go pick you up, which he defaults to.

He gets a bit shy when your friends tease him (just how much you talk about him?), but he lives to serve you.

Ness loves you so much, he can't help but worry about you. He's not controlling, right? So he's not possesive in the slightest.

But you don't see the way he tenses when someone's hand lingers on your waist for too long,

Or how his jaw clenches when you laugh a bit too loud at someone else's joke.

♡ possessive!ness will never make a scene, but he'll bury his face in the crook of your neck the moment he gets your attention, asking for your affection. A whimper escapes him every time you run your hand through his hair, soothingly rubbing his back with the other.

When he lifts his head slightly, he can't help but glare daggers at the back of whoever dared to make him feel threatened. Though he melts again when you cup his face and kiss it gently, making sure to make you laugh way louder soon to reclaim his place as the one made to make you happy.

♡ possessive!ness who again, is polite and never tells you what to do, but bites his lip until it bleeds whenever he sees you talk to Isagi. You know that he hates him, that bastard Yoichi has taken things away from him before. But you're also not in bad terms with him, so you don't hesitate to ask little, innocent questions when needed or to say hi out of politeness when you see him around. Which happens more often than it should, according to Ness.

You could be coming back from the bathroom on a festival date, accidentally bumping into the black-haired boy who just so happened to be attending as well. It's not an unlikely occurrence, but that doesn't mean Ness will like it. And with the way his eyebrows are pulled together and the vein on his neck looks like it's about to pop, it's clear it's taking a lot of restraint to remain calm at the interaction.

Ness relaxes immediately once you return to his side, your pretty eyes widening in surprise as you notice his bleeding lip. He stammers as he tries to explain, feeling shy under your attention. And as you gingerly touch his lower lip to check on him, he realizes that restraint sometimes is well rewarded.

He'll still keep staring at where Isagi touched your shoulder to steady you earlier, jaw twitching in annoyance. Slinging an arm around it and pulling you closer, he'll make sure you won't bump into anyone else for the rest of the day.

And to erase any trace of that boy's touch later, of course.

♡ possessive!ness who, despite his best efforts to channel his feelings, will litter hickeys across your skin when he feels particularly pent up—like after that stunt at the festival or when you come back from your outings with friends.

Your shoulder, neck, collarbone... all skin he can reach covered in his marks in mere minutes.

If he's to be called a loyal dog, can't he act like one? He's just marking his territory.

So while Ness could claim he's not possessive, your skin will bear the clearest proof of the opposite.

♡ Exhibit B: Mean Streak !

Your darling boyfriend is not mean. He's in fact the sweetest person you've ever met, at least to you.

Emphasis on that last part, as Ness has no qualms about being rude to people when they disrespect those he's loyal to.

Like when a group of teenagers slowly walked past you two, sneering and pointing at your outfit. Ness' head whipped in their direction, catching someone commenting something rude of your appearance.

You felt surprised for a moment, but were meaning to let it slide. At least until Ness turned around, immediately roasting the hell out of whoever trashtalked you.

You were positively in shock, your sweet Ness? You didn't expect it from him. And had you not pulled him closer and asked him not pay them any mind, he definitely would have continued.

He apologized quickly, fearing he might have bothered you, though you were quick to tell him you just found it funny.

And well, that was a slip, but that mild shock of yours was enough to make him want to be more careful.

So he started to train himself to not react so harshly to other's comments, prioritizing your comfort over everything.

Social media is a good example, a daily test for him. Ness is your number one cheerleader both irl and online, he likes, comments and shares your every post. He also posts you on his official account frequently, bragging about you every so often. You're his beautiful darling, how could he not want to show you off? It's practically his job, and he excels at it every time.

Now, the test comes when he reads your post's comments, which are not always as decent as he'd like them to be. He doesn't get jealous, no... or at least not anymore, as you've reassured him enough for him to know those pixels are not a threat.

He does sulk slightly when he sees gross comments, though, and grows enraged when they're blatantly disrespectful.

♡ mean!ness who knows you'll delete any comments that bother you, and he respects your atonomy by having enough self control to not diss out those accounts in the replies. That doesn't mean he won't do it in private, having several alt accounts to hunt them down and fill their dms with insults.

He doesn't care if it's incels insulting you, disrespectful oglers or fans of his who hate you for dating him. He hunts them all the same, and will proceed to do so with every single account until they get tired of blocking them all and accept to stop bothering you.

You don't know why the comments randomly go down before you delete them, or why there's significantly less of the usual hate in your posts as the months go by. You don't need to know, though, as Ness always takes care of you from the shadows. He doesn't want a single worry in your pretty little head, he'll do the hard work for you. As for payment? Don't worry, a few kisses will do.

♡ mean!ness who is never mean to you, in case that wasn't clear enough. You do like pushing his buttons, though, getting a kick out of your gentle boyfriend's reactions. He has his limits though, like every person. So one time you're teasing him for getting jealous over a waiter who batantly flirted with you in a restaurant, his patience begins running thin.

He does grow shy at first like usual, embarrased at his own insecurity. As he's giving you those sweet reactions you adore, you continue making teasing comments, poking him and nudging his feet under the table. Ness' thoughts begin derailing, annoyance overwhelming him as he overthinks the man's comments. And without thinking, he grabs your wrist when you reach to poke him again, trapping your hand between his.

His grip is gentle like always, but it's undeniably firm. His eyes are devoid of any amusement, yet not unkind. His thumb runs over your hand, a smile that doesn'tfully reach his eyes on his face. And then he whispers, "Can you stop making those comments, dear? It's not funny to me."

Your playfulness drops immediately, quietly conceding. Ness' smile grows bright as usual, keeping your hand right where it is. His mood only sours back when the waiter returns, mood flipping like a switch once again. He takes the lead of the interaction this time, definitely not wanting him to talk to you.

Ness' clenches his teeth the whole time, strugling to remain composed. You're watching from the side, still thinking about earlier and feeling strangely... flustered? instead of uncomfortable.

Once again, his expression goes considerately softer when the waiter leaves.

But maybe you'll have to ask him to speak to you like that again in other situations.

Anyway... you see? Ness is not a mean person. Or well, he's better at managing his mean streak than he was before.

Not only he never snaps at you rudely when your behavior bothers him, but he also doesn't attack anyone (...in public,) like he used to do.

...Not that mean!ness didn't trail after a man who catcalled you once the moment you were distracted, a forced, polite smile on his face as he threatened him to never speak to you like that again.

His grip on his wrist was strong, making the man feel like it'd snap for a second there. Saved by the bell, your voice reached Ness' ears, making him let go and return to you.

Said man apologized profusely to you seconds after, scurrying away as you stood there in confusion.

But considering there's no actual footage or evidence of what happened... Let's sweep that under the rug.

♡ Exhibit C: Fear of abandonment...?

Your Ness is clingy, okay? That's a fact.

You know it, and you love it. It's just part of what makes him himself.

You don't do nonchalantness or people who don't display interest, and he makes sure to always let you know how he feels about you.

It may be too much to others, but you take it gladly.

The only issue is when that desire to keep you in his life gets twisted by his fear of losing you, making him lose rationality.

Ness isn't just clingy, fear of loneliness and abandonment is deeply rooted in him. You're the best thing that's ever happened to him, one of the few people if not the only who actually sees him for who he is. You're special, his everything, he'd be damned if loses you. And he has no reservations, no, no control over showing it to you when he thinks you could be slipping away.

One heavy argument is enough to let it show. While Ness never holds grudges and is always open to make amends, sometimes situations escalate and can't be solved easily.

He tries to give you space, though it visibly kills him to do so. He'll check in on you every so often, swallowing his stress and retreating if you're still reluctant to speak with him. It's if you refuse to sleep with him that he'd break, tears streaming down his face in a split second.

Ness would cling to you like you'll dissapear if he doesn't, falling to his knees while gripping on your clothes. He'll sob into your stomach, asking, pleading for you to forgive him. If you're still mad now, will you still be tomorrow? Will your resentment grow, until you won't want anything to do with him? The thought terrifies him, so he'll cry and beg if he has to.

"Liebe, please, I'll do anything. You can't shut me out like this." He whines, sobs wracking his body. "If I did something, I won't do it again. If It's something of me you dislike, I'll change. I'll do anything, really. Anything you need."

"Ness... I just needed space," You try to explain, cupping his face gently to wipe his tears. He leans into your touch immediately, nuzzling against your palm desperately. "That's all I said."

"I know, I'm sorry," he sniffles wetly, "I just can't sleep when you're not there. I keep—keep thinking, that'll you'll walk out the door at any moment."

You're puzzled as to why he's reached to that conclusion, you never once threatened with leaving during the argument. Or ever, for that matter. Ness is the one reaching for your face now, your forehead touching his. His wide eyes reflect his panic, lurking into yours for reassurance.

"You won't leave me, right? You'll stay with me. I love you, liebling. You're all I need."

"...I won't leave you, Lex."

"You promise?"

"Yes."

"Can we stop fighting, please?"

"Sure. I'll come to bed with you."

His face breaks into a smile, arms wrapping around your body as he chants "I love you's" into your skin. He doesn't even realize his behavior could come off as manipulative, too focused on keeping you close to realize he's influencing you. He just wanted to be sure you'd keep him, is that so bad? He just needs to keep you close at all times.

So yeah, Ness does have a side to him that goes beyond his gentle treatment towards you. He's versatile, flawed, and loves way too deeply. But you love him anyways, and that's all that matters. So long you love all sides of him, he's alright.

Maybe Ness is no good. Maybe he'll get better as time goes on. Let go of his fears, love you innocently. Adore you freely, and not from a place of raw desperation.

But for now, keep him anyways.

Ness just wants to be loved by you ♡