XXV

When it was time for the sightseeing, Neeva hurdled the students and teachers and led them into the city, a broad smile on her face. She took them in and out of every street, explaining to them different things; she also introduced them to fun things such as traditional cloths, street food and face painting. By the time they returned to the hotel, it was already dusk, and the hotel had been decorated in preparation for the concert. Seeing the decorations suddenly reminded Kimi of Aurum and he shuddered, fully aware that one way or another, he was going to have to face Aurum. Be it that night, or any other time. When they got to their rooms, Kimi beelined to the bathroom, and Dae-yang was sporting a worried frown.

This was noticed by Silver, who in concern asked, “Dae-yang are you alright?” His hands were searching his bag for decent cloths. “You look stressed. Is anything wrong?”

Dae-yang shook her head, her lips glued shut in a thin line. She heaved a slow and quiet sigh as she dropped onto the bed, her fingers busy with the rubber band that had been holding her hair in a high, side ponytail.

“You sure?” He cocked an eyebrow. “Because today I had seen you with Jianbing. You guys were looking like you were arguing.”

Silver’s words caused Dae-yang to flinch, and this made Raja snort in amusement, the comb he had in his hand swimming through his ruffled, undercut, ash-coloured hair.

“I’m alright Silver,” she sighed quietly. She held her elbow and looked down at her toes as they played with the hairs on the rug. “We just... had a small fight. That’s all.”

“Small fight?” Raja scoffed and turned to look at her. “That wasn’t a fucking small fight.”

Silver shook his head and stood up. “Let the grown up handle this,” he said to Raja with a wave of his hand as he stepped to Dae-yang.

Raja rolled his eyes and threw his comb onto the bed. He held his waist, a frown working its way onto his face the moment he realized that he had no tickets to the concert. “How does one attend a concert without a ticket?” he grumbled.

“It’s part of the things Mr. Jaeger had financed,” Silver replied as he stood and walked to his bed.

Raja whistled in amazement, his eyebrows raised. “Whoa! What does Duan fucking live in? Gold?” He picked up his bag and dumped its items on his bed. “I had known for a while now that Mr. Jaeger was fucking rich. Duan being his son was something I didn’t know,” he said as his hands sifted through his rumpled clothes that laid on the unmade bed.

“Apparently Mr. Jaeger doesn’t fancy the idea of being a public figure. That’s why most people don’t know much about his children,” Silver said as he tried to pick the perfect attire for the concert.

“Hmm. Makes sense,” mumbled Raja as he picked up a caramel tank top and baggy shorts. He held it up to Silver. “This’s fucking perfect. Right?”

Silver raised a brow, smiling in amusement. “Don’t ask me. What if Rin sees you in it and predicts that it’ll bring you doom and destruction?” He folded his arms. “Will you still wear it?”

“Oh...” Raja dropped his hand and scowled at his cloths. “I think I need his advice.” He leaned forward and tatteredly gathered his cloths into his arms and rushed out of the room, some cloths almost slipping past his hands.

Dae-yang stiffled a laugh as she watched him with faint amusement, snorting loudly when he struggled to open and then shut the door. She sighed the moment he finally walked away, leaving the door ajar. She played with the rubber band, stroking it like a guitar string.

She exhaled loudly. “Do you think I’d ever get a chance to explain myself to Jianbing?” she said quietly and looked at Silver.

“Well...” Silver scratched the back of his head, his round, grey eyes fixed on his chosen cloths. “I don’t know. But... if you ever get the chance, instead of trying to explain yourself show yourself...” He blinked and looked up. “Does that make sense?”

She snorted. “No...”

“Thought so,” he sighed, his shoulders slouching. “I suck at giving advice, seeing that I’ve always been the one receiving them.”

Dae-yang’s curled into a small smile and mumbled, “at least you’re better than me.”

The door leading to the bathroom was loudly thrown open and Kimi walked out, a towel slung over his shoulders. His black hair was wet and water rushed down his neck and was absorbed by the towel. Silver and Dae-yang watched him as he shuffled noisily to his bed and dropped onto it, the bed bouncing under his weight.

“Kimi aren’t you attending the concert?” Silver asked after Kimi lazily laid on his side, the towel folded under his head like a pillow.

“No,” he muttered, curling on the bed like a foetus.

“Oh! I had thought that since—”

“Since what Silver?” he hissed quietly. He heaved a loud sigh and said, “please just go silently and do whatever it is you want to and freaking leave me in peace.”

Dae-yang watched as Silver sighed, shaking his head tiredly. He passed his hand through his curly, light-coloured hair and stood, his cloths in his hands. Silver walked to the bathroom and shut the door. It didn’t take long before the sound of running water was heard.

Dae-yang used her fingers to comb out the tangles in her hair, sighing because of the gloomy cloud that was lingering over their shared bedroom. It was affecting everyone, except for Raja, who happily bounced into the room, a wide grin on his face.

Dae-yang ran her eyes down his body, raising an eyebrow at the tracksuit he was putting on. “So Rin chose that for you?” She snorted and said, “what... did he like tell you that you’ll do a lot of running today?”

“No,” Raja said and dumped the rough ball of cloths on his bed. He turned around, his hands on his waist, and shrugged. “He just fucking closed his eyes and pointed at them.”

“Oh really? So if he tells you to put on a sack bag, will you?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

And that’s how the minutes went by, with them taking turns having a bath, small chit chats here and there, until the night sky was a vibrant, dark purple. It was time and Raja was the first to leave, yelling into the night. Dae-yang was the next to leave, putting on a sleeveless, loose gown.  Kimi was curled in bed, his gaze stuck on the silver lights that crept into the room through the window.

“Will you need anything?” Silver softly asked on his way out, and he got silence as a response. He exhaled lightly and followed after the rest, shutting the door behind him.

All was silent and still after the door was shut. Even Kimi’s breathing was so silent that even the whispering curtains were louder than him. He laid limply in bed like a foetus, too numb to do anything. His eyes followed the silver light out of the window. His gaze landed on the silver-coloured bulbs that were used as decorations.

Kimi exhaled inaudibly and turned to the other side, the towel still stuck under his head. But as he turned, the towel bunched up under his head and he growled throatily, irritated at the discomfort.

Why does everything have to be freaking stupid? he thought, getting up to return the towel to the bathroom.

The moment he walked into the bathroom, he caught sight of his reflection in the large mirror and he squinted at it.

“You,” he said to his reflection and moved closer to the mirror. “Why are you freaking killing yourself?” he whispered, his eyes drinking in the face that stared back at him. His body was stiff as he stared at his tired face, the bags under his eyes; his hands were loosely gripping the edge of the sink.

Why am I doing this to myself?

Kimi spent the next few minutes observing his reflection. But he was broken from his spell when the crackling sound of fireworks filled the air.

Kimi threw the towel on the edge of the sink and walked out of the bathroom, the edge of his loose pants swishing against the floor. He moved to the window and stuck his head out of it. He watched as numerous fireworks  lit the sky in rainbow-like hues. Their colours were reflected in his dull, grey eyes that stared tiredly at the lights.

He looked down and spotted students from his school who were making guttural sounds—their hands cupped around their mouths—as they walked to the venue of the concert. A loud booming music flooded the night, and Kimi stiffened, immediately recognizing the song as Qulture’s.

Should I go? Should I not? he questioned himself internally. He pressed his fingers into the windowsill, dirt piling under his nails. What if Aurum spots me? What will I do?

He shook his head, clearly making up a decision. “I can’t freaking miss this opportunity because of a lousy crush,” he mumbled angrily, removing his hands from the windowsill.

Kimi walked to his corner and picked up his hoodie that was hanging pitifully off the edge of the bed. He tugged it on and pulled on a pair of sandals. Everything seemed to blur out of proportion as he rushed out the door and down the stairs, his heart banging in his chest.

“I can’t believe I’m freaking attending a Qulture concert,” he whispered to himself as he tugged down the hood of his jacket, his gaze glued to the floor as he followed the rest out of the hotel.

If anything freaking comes to the worst, he thought, I’m running back to the room.

*

Everybody was as cheerful as they could ever be, excited about the concert. Some locals were busy lighting up the skies with colourful fireworks. Some were selling roadside treats, some following the crowd to the stage that was set up in a wide, open field. Children screamed cheerily, running about, their faces covered in bright, geometric, neon-like face paints.

“Alright stop,” Tobe said when they reached the entrance to the place, his hand raised. Some students groaned at his words and he turned to them with a lifted brow. “I just want to make sure that I don’t get to be misfortunate to present your severed heads to your very angry parents when we return to Rhodes Isles.”

Lydia rolled her eyes, scoffing as she folded her arms over her little bust. “Tobe you’re scaring these kids. Chill. Be cool.” She cocked her hips and smirked when he spared her a sidelong look, her red lips glistening in the dark.

Tobe simply raised the square-shaped item in his hand. “Get this from the entrance before entering.”

They all released a tired groan and rushed past him, angry that he had stopped their onward movement for just a reminder. Except for Lydia and Tobe, the teachers followed after them, mumbling to themselves.

When the students were far enough, Lydia moved closer to Tobe and said, “those things are just ordinary metals right?”

“Someone needs to protect them,” Tobe said softly, watching as the students fought as they struggled to get a pass.

Lydia snorted and looked down the sloped hill. She raised a lined brow as she spotted Kimi. He was walking slowly up the hill, seeming like a dark blotch in the merriment.

“How did you guys manage him?” she said and raised a finger past her folded arms to point at him.

Tobe turned and watched as Kimi walked past them, swirls of clashing emotions oozing from him. He watched Kimi until he walked to the entrance and got a pass.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Extremely well. Like a bucket of tangerine juice.”

She snorted, walking to the entrance, a hand on her hip. “You and your weird metaphors. How do you live with yourself?”

“I live to survive, thank you very much,” he droned, matching her slow pace.

Lydia chuckled lightly, her eyes closed, missing the smile that tugged at Tobe’s pursed lips. “You can’t possibly be—”

A bright booming light cut her off as the stage erupted into tall, bright, roaring flames. Smoke followed after them, stealthily creeping onto the stage, the limelights coming on. Happy shrieks and hollers filled the air when the stage moved and a figure emerged from underground.

“Are you ready to be happy Ashvilleeeee?!” came a deep, feminine voice from within the smoke.

Girls shrieked, their phones raised. Boys hooted like frenzied bamboos, their hands cupped around their mouths.

“Qulture! Qulture! Qulture!” the crowd recited in unison, happiness soaking their voices.

“If you’re ready to rock scream!”

And the audience did just that. The smoke slowly cleared, and everyone held their breath as the person moved to the front of the stage. She had a large, puffy, silver-coloured afro, her face covered in a freaky make-up of shapes and lines.

“Hellooooo Ashvilleeee!” she hollered into the microphone, her voice spreading wide into the night. She raised her arm, and the numerous, glittering silver bangles around it slid down, jingling into the night. “Music please,” she said, and immediately an upbeat intro started playing.

“Couko! Couko! Couko!” the crowd chanted, pounding their feet in the line with the song.

“This is for the trodden and downgraded! Start your night with priiiide!” she yelled, tugging off the robe she was putting on, the crowd cheering her on. The long, purple, linen gown she was putting on came into view, her bare arms filled with the same white geometric paintings.

The intro was dragged and slowed down. More smoke filled the stage and the sound of an electric guitar followed. A young woman walked onto the stage, jumping about like a kangaroo, the two, medium-sized puffs that her hair was packed into dancing around. Flickering lights filled the night as people took shots of her as she jumped from one corner of the stage to the other, seeming like a phantom in the faint smoke.

“Sibyl! Sibyl! Sibyl!” people said as she jumped about, before she landed before a microphone stand.

“Hello Ashviiiiilllllleeeee!” she yelled, playing a long, continuous note in line with her yell, the force of her scream making her lean backwards.

“Wooooo!” the crowd replied.

Slowly the smoke dispersed, revealing two other people. One was by the DJ stand, the other a masked figure who was sat behind a drum kit which was on a raised platform at the back of the stage.

Couko was still at the front of the stage, swinging the robe in her hand over her head like a lasso. “Tonight is your night! Enjoy!” And she threw the robe into the air.

Everyone’s gazes and phones followed it, but they all gasped sharply when it bursted into tiny specks of light that sprinkled onto the audience. They redirected their attention back to the stage and they started bopping their heads in line with the rising beat. Couko’s leg that was peaking through the long slit in her cloth tapped against the floor, the heels of her thigh high boot adding to the rhythm.

“Sing along with me!” She raised her hand, closed her eyes, waited for the right key, and then she started singing.

Her voice came out deep and smooth, her tone shifting from light to sultry when she was singing or rapping. She bounced her head with the rhythm, snapped her fingers, and sashayed about the stage. Sometimes when the music changed, Sibyl, the electric guitarist, would jump about, backing up her deep voice with a long note. When Couko finished performing six songs, she and Sibyl exchanged positions, and she moved to a piano that was close to the DJ’s stand.

“How are you guys enjoying thiiiiisss?!” Sibyl yelled into the microphone stand, the wind swaying the numerous straps on her trashy jumpsuit.

The crowd yelled and screamed, clearly damaging their vocal chords.

Sibyl laughed breathly into the microphone, her smoke-coloured eyes twinkling. “I never thought that I’d return to this place.” She passed her eyes over the faces of the happy audiences. “It’s nice to see you all again, both the new faces and the old ones,” she said, her voice filled with a light African American accent.

A set of loud drumming filled the air and Sibyl laughed.

“That’s Claren. They’re greeting you,” she laughed, her fingers wrapped around the microphone stand.

“We love you too Claren!” the crowd said in unison, their eyes filled with joy and passion.

Another round of drumming filled the air and Sibyl looked over her shoulder at Claren’s masked face. “Always shy. Don’t worry they’ll get to perform the next song. Who waaaaantsss thaaaat?!”

The crowed hollered a unified agreement and Sibyl laughed, her shoulders shaking with the force of her laughter.

“Alright, alright, let’s get ready for my turn,” she said and motioned to the DJ.

The DJ nodded at her and soon the sound of a slow afrobeat crept into the night. People started nodding to the beat of the song, some swaying from the left to the right.

Sibyl started clapping her hands when a sharp, snap-like instrumental started playing. “This goes out to all my Nigerian brothers and sisters!”

The limelights slowly bled into a green and white colour and people started clapping with her. Once the intro was done, she started singing, her voice rising and falling in deep tones. When she reached the bridge, her voice morphed into a pitched tone, complementing the hearty lyrics of the song.

When she was through with the song, the instrumentals slowly changed into a more jumpy one, and she started jumping on the spot, raising one leg after the other, her knees reaching up to her chest. She added a little of her electric guitar as she started singing, the tunes from Couko’s piano coming later. When she started singing the hook, the audience sang along with her. After the second hook, the beat slowly became softer, and people quieted down as Sibyl started singing again.

“They’s just only two points in this life,” she sang softly. “The end and the beginning, not the high and the low. Make yourself stand in between, truth hurts, yes, but only you can tell that truth.”

After that, the crowd sang the hook again as she just dragged out the last word in a pitched scream, her eyes tightly shut. The song ended with a single drum and guitar. Everyone clapped and cheered, leaping off their chairs.

Sibyl held onto the microphone, breathing heavily. “That was... intense.” She released a big breath and held her waist. “Even for me I must say that was intense.” She nodded as people whistled in a chirpy manner and clapped tremendously. “Thank you. Thank you,” she said as she took a series of low bows.

When she straightened her back, she looked to her bandmates and they all exchanged nods.

“Right... Um...” She bit the corner of her purply lips, lightly tapping her fist against her wide open palm.

A thick hush filled the wide field as they all awaited Sibyl’s words.

“Tonight, as you all know, is a special night.” The crowed lightly cheered her and clapped at her words. “For many years he, our leader, our founder, the bond that holds Qulture together, had not been so well and because of that he had gone on a decade long hiatus.” She rubbed her palms on her trousers. “I would like you all to know that, thanks to your love and support, he is here with us tonight.” Phones were raised, people stood, smiles widened, and heartbeats quickened when Sibyl said, “please I would like you all to welcome Aurum Caedis!”

Applauds and cheerful roars sounded as the the curtains at the back of the stage were slowly raised. A figure who was flagged by smoke was standing behind the curtains. Snapping sounds rang loud as people started taking photos, even though that they could not see him.

Meanwhile at the back of the crowd, Kimi was glued to his seat, his fisted hands digging into his bouncing thighs. The louder the cheers grew, the more sweat rolled down his face.

Please, he thought, squeezing his eyes shut. Aurum Caedis don’t freaking notice me. Thank you.

Author’s Note: hi! My author’s notes aren’t stopping any minute and this one is looooong! ಥ⌣ಥ I just want to use this note to inform you guys that you should stay healthy and strong. The COVID-19 is real, and yes it is deadly. But do not have fear and try not to meditate on negative thoughts. When you have a hard time staying positive try to do stuff that would keep your mind away from this enemy that is COVID-19. Stay safe, wash your hands regularly and love yourself. Please vote and share. I would like to hear your thoughts about things around you. Do you know anybody who is affected by the COVID-19 and how are you helping them? They don’t have to be infected. They could have a loved one or a friend who has it. Share hope and kindness. Hello months of indoor activities! (●｀･(ｴ)･´●)