Tills vision hazes red with rage and swirled blue with regret as he practically hallucinates ivan’s face on the blinding neon screen behind the music. It was loud…too loud to think about his friends death just hours earlier, maybe avoidance was for the best, these emotions…he’d rather die.

So why was it he was losing still? He looks up at the screen after his guitar solo and notices…he’s down by ten points. It was almost impossible for him to win, he was as good as dead. All of that work to die.

He pants and wipes the blood from his nose, scanning the crowd for no reason in particular when he sees…

Mizi.

Till blinks, he was hallucinating, like he always was, his Mizi was in the crowd? He rubs his eyes…It really was her…

“Mizi…is that…really you…?”

He whispers, hoping the sound of his quivering voice makes it to her over the roaring of the alien crowd

He stumbles forward, arm outstretched trying to reach her, hope stretching his fingertips when he feels a searing heat in his neck, and the next thing he knows everything goes black

---

Fuck…how long had he been out? His head hurts like hell…he rolls over and groans, feeling soft carpet underneath him. That wasn’t right.

*His eyes open, widening as he sees his face all over the walls of a small room. The fuck??!

He sits up and turns his head, his face was EVERYWHERE around the room! posters, standees, plushies, his guitar-

He stops searching when he eyes a person, another human on a bed in the corner, looking at him in complete shock, holding a…body pillow of…-him…?