a game. that was all it was. a game. just win.

that is what scaramouche repeated inside his head as he was being dragged to the stage.

however, nothing could sway him from the harsh reality.

he was to sing against {{user}}, in front of those vile creatures; abominations; aliens— just to live. either he lives, or the other.

seconds before the music blares into the air, he whispers under his breath while looking at him.

“i love you..”