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It was his grand finale, the last time his star-struck fans would ever see him. The show went on as usual, his fanbase cheering him on from their seats in the venue. He smiled as he sang, hitting each note consistently and on-key. His outfit, bedazzled in sequins (per his request), made him pop against everything else. The lights blinded him, but he still managed to move exactly where he needed to be. The timing and steps were drilled into his memory, each movement being preplanned and perfectly executed. He was a star. He was the star, someone everyone wanted to be. Stunning bright blue eyes, blond hair with a signature cowlick, a cocky and outgoing personality, a voice so impressive and unique he had so many people under his spell...
He wanted to vomit.
He was so sick of this, night after night performing the same stuff only to do it all again when his next hit album dropped. It was all the same: record songs given to him by the people above him, attend staged and impersonal interviews, record insanely high-budgeted music videos, listen to everyone around him gossip about something entirely false, perform another set of sold-out concerts, and then start the dreaded loop all over again. It’s been years. So many years. He hated it. Every day of this idol stuff was slowly killing him.
It was gnawing at him, the feelings of worthlessness, the thoughts inside of him begging to be brought to life; all of it was slowly eating away at the faux persona he’s had on display for the past two years. His true self was slowly leaking over to the happy-go-lucky persona and vice-versa. It started with a simple slip-up, an accident during an interview that he quickly covered up with a smile.
It only got worse from there.
---
Arthur had begun to notice way before it was shown to the public, concerned for the man he loved more than anyone else. During Alfred’s off days, he noticed how he didn’t seem to fully be in the moment, usually dazing off in the middle of whatever he was doing. Arthur had tried to bring it up a few times, but Alfred only brushed it off, claiming he was simply tired and not to worry about it.
As time went on, especially during his second-most recent tour, he noticed the distracted looks on his face, the strangeness of the smile on his face when doing meet-and-greets, the ever-growing bags under his eyes… He knew something was wrong, but could never find out what it was. He always reminded Alfred he was there for him, but never took him up on the offer.
He shuddered at the thought of that night just a few months back, a calm and breezy summer’s eve turned dark when he returned to their shared residence to find Alfred on the bathroom floor, blue eyes filled with salty tears, blood slowly dripping down a cut-up arm, and fear etched on his face. He spilled everything out in the open, revealing his true feelings towards everything that’s been happening; specifically, the loop. Arthur took a deep breath after the former finished, kneeling down next to him.
“It’ll get better, love. I promise,” He muttered, carefully placing a hand on the other’s shoulder. Alfred flinched, shaking his head no as he continued to sob.
“It won’t, Arthur. It won’t…”
---
He’s managed to hide it all again, but this time, better than before. He refused to talk to anyone against the wishes of everyone around him and went on with life as usual, even making the decision to continue on with his upcoming tour despite all of this.
And that’s where he was now: the last performance of the tour, his last ever performance. No one besides him knew the latter, of course, for it was his final trick; a way to ‘go out with a bang’ as they say. His smile was not misleading today; in fact, he truly was happy. Everything was planned out and going according to plan. With each passing second he felt more alive than before, knowing death would soon be right in front of him, ready to take him from this life he was so tired of living.
Of course, not everything was bad. He had someone who truly loved him, who truly cared about him, and the thought of leaving him in this truly did make his heart ache. But, he convinced himself that this was for the best, making sure to leave a majority of his belongings towards him so he could live his life to the fullest, even without him around.
He smiled at the crowd, belting out the final line of the final song, watching them all cheer him on. They loved the persona, the caricature of him, not the real person beneath. He gave a quick generic ‘thank you’ speech, the lights went off, and that was it. It was over. Who knew it’d come this quickly.
He carefully walked offstage, walking by everyone backstage to the one person he wanted to see at that moment. Everything around him felt so slow, like he was in a dream. People swarmed him, trying to talk to him or drag him away to somewhere else. He shoved them away and kept going, hearing their concerned whispers and chatter as he continued on his mission.
After a few minutes of looking, he found him, sitting on one of the couches in one of the back rooms. Arthur stood up, a happy look on his usually annoyed face. Alfred grabbed his hand and pulled him close, taking a minute to embrace the other, as this was the last time he ever would. The shorter melted into the embrace, wrapping his arms around the other.
Alfred whispered a quick but meaningful ‘I love you’, pressed a chaste kiss to the other’s lips, and let go, a concerned look forming on Arthur’s face. The star exited the room, making an empty promise to come back once he was out of his outfit and ready to leave.
The walk to his dressing room, his final destination, was long yet short at the same time, his mind flooding with emotions he quickly blocked out. The room was dark except for a desk lamp, which illuminated the letter he carefully wrote out before the show. He carefully stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
The door locked with a simple click .
---
Arthur knocked on the door, his mind racing. Usually he’d be done by now and talking with fans who’ve stuck around and were hoping to see the idol himself, but that wasn’t the case. A light was still on, indicating that someone was in there. Of course, he might be more worried than usual due to what he walked in on before, but he seemed to be getting better himself… right?
His worries only grew with no response from inside the room, his mind immediately thinking the worst. A backstage worker walked by and he stopped them, asking if he’d seen Alfred around. He shook his head, stating the last time anyone saw him was when he got off of the stage. Arthur contributed his own pieces of the story, saying that he wasn’t answering the door. The person excused himself, running off to grab someone with a spare key to the room, leaving Arthur alone once again.
He sat on the floor next to the door, calling Alfred’s personal number. He heard the phone ring, but no answer. Maybe he wasn’t actually in there? Maybe he snuck off to get some fast food. He’s done that before, so why did Arthur feel so sick and worried this time?
The person came back, passing a now-standing Arthur the key. He took it and unlocked the door, hesitation stopping him from opening the door. It all seems familiar, like when he found Alfred in the bathroom just a few months ago.
Inhale.
Exhale.
He opened the door, the hallway light illuminating the almost full dark room. The desk lamp was previously the only source of light, shining on a perfectly placed letter. He heard his heart beating in his ears as he looked down, fear in his emerald green eyes.
Time froze. His thinking stopped. His breath hitched. Eyes widened. Tears formed. Oh no.
Oh no.
He fell to his knees and screamed.