Joost was ready for the woman who flew into his arms.

Bending his knees, Joost caught Fenne's waist and spun her in a full circle. His grin hurt his tear stained cheeks and he scrunched his eyes shut at the feeling of Fenne's thin frame against his front. The strength in his arms doubled from the adrenaline in his veins and Joost squeezed her extra tight before lowering her to her feet.

'You were amazing! You were just-wow, Joost,' Fenne's small hands cupped either side of his face and planted her lips on his. Joost barely had the time to kiss back before she was pulling away, but left her nose touching his.

'Did you see me?' he said through his grin.

'I couldn't take my eyes off you! You've totally won!'

Fenne's heart pounded against her ribcage and her eyes watered with joy. Joost was magnificent. She saw how the crowd reacted to his every move as he hit every beat and every note. Her grip on Hanna's arm loosened over the performance and she found herself watching in awe. Just like everyone else around her, Fenne was transfixed and proud.

She had watched Joost grow from intimate acts at Air and Club Up, to massive crowds around Europe. His drive, his energy, his uniqueness had gotten him so far.

While in his shoulder padded arms, Fenne admired his flushed face. He was so handsome, vibrant and the love of Fenne's life. She wondered what she had done to deserve someone so pure and genuine.

They didn't want to pull apart, but some EBU employees had a schedule to keep. Joost's touch lingered on Fenne's waist as they headed for the dressing room. Fenne's pocket teemed with his cigarettes and lighter and a celebratory drink was calling her name. The night was set to be filled with laughter, parties and the announcement of Joost's place in the contest's final.

'That was amazing, dude,' Teun ruffled Joost's hair, his grin equally as wild. 'I just had Käärijä on the phone.'

'Käärijä?! Oh my god.'

Joost put a hand to his head in shock. The man who nearly won Eurovision 2023 was in talks with Joost's producer. That would be the final thing to top off Joost's year; a song with Käärijä.

The team turned the corner with large smiles. They talked, hooted and held each other. Apson did his best to hold Hanna's waist, just like Joost did to Fenne, but his suit made it impossible. So, he settled with holding her hand, which Hanna was content with.

'Joost! Great show!'

The laughter paused as a man walked towards them. With his phone held up, he approached the group that headed down the hall. Joost's eyebrow creased, not recognising the man, but treated him as another well-wisher.

'Thanks, man,' he called out, even giving him a wave. But beside him, Fenne met Nathan's eye, who craned his gaze over his shoulder to watch the man closely.

'Do you have a minute to talk? I have some questions-'

'Not right now,' Stuntje said, stepping in front and blocking the man's path. Fenne stuck close to Joost's side, quickening their pace with a sudden urgency.

'Do you have any comments about the recent news?'

'What news?' Joost asked. He didn't know why Stuntje was stopping the man, or why everyone, including Fenne, hurried down the hall away from him.

Fenne thought they were safe as they turned another corner. Stuntje had stayed behind to make sure the man didn't follow. The sight of his phone camera had put them all on edge and Fenne wanted to at least make it outside before she gave Joost an explanation. If they kept their heads low, the team could avoid anymore confrontation.

'Joost Klein! Can we get a picture with you?!'

Fenne cursed and her grip on Joost's suit unconsciously tightened. The familiar group were joined by their contestant, Eden Golan. She stood at the forefront with her phone camera already raised and recording. The team that had done nothing but laugh at the Dutch group behind their backs and fake genuinity to their faces was not worth their time. They were a distraction that Joost didn't need, not after giving the best performance of his life.

'Sorry, but we're going somewhere,' Hanna tried in English.

'Oh, come on, it's one photo!' one of the group held up their phone and leaned in to try and get a picture. Fenne's hand shot up to shield her face and Joost immediately realised the hostility in his girlfriend's demeanour.

'Please, don't do that,' Joost called out.

'We just want to celebrate your performance!' Eden replied with a sickly grin. 'I wanted to offer my condolences. That tribute to your parents was really touching!'

Like a hammer to her stomach, Fenne felt winded. She dared to look to the man beside her, whose pace slowed. It wasn't along until Joost stopped completely, letting his hand fall from Fenne's side. His pause made her turn and the others did the same, sensing the danger in Joost's silence.

'What did you just say?' Joost asked with a deadly tone.

'I didn't know they both died. When I read the article, I thought that you'd written it yourself as a publicity stunt. But I guess using it as your song entry is enough of a boast, right?'

Fenne didn't know how someone could be so cruel. She eyed the woman who stood with her phone still raised and her team of minions snickering behind her.

She looked so proud of herself. Now Fenne saw why the EBU were constantly initiating damage control processes. Eden Golan's outspoken attitude had landed her in the press for the wrong reasons, and with none of the workers around backstage, she was running free in her sick, twisted game.

No one knew what article she was talking about, but it didn't matter. All the Dutch team could focus on was the dark eyes and tight jaw of their tall friend.

'Who the fuck do you think you are?!'

'Joost, don't-'

The rush of people caused mayhem. As soon as Joost took the first stride towards the group, Fenne followed in panic. She was able to grab Joost's elbow and was thankful to see Teun land his hold on Joost's other side. Stuntje had caught up with the group only to involve himself again at the sight of commotion. Nathan also appeared at Fenne's left incase they needed help, while the team behind the Israeli representative stepped forward.

A flurry of shouts and movement made it difficult for Fenne to calm the situation. Eden Golan stood smirking with her camera recording everything.

Joost tried to wretch an arm from Teun's hold, furious and tongue teeming with an insulting curse. His stomach boiled with something rancid and his limbs moved on their own. He wanted to take the phone out of the woman's hand and smash it, no matter how aggressive or threatening it would be.

'Go on! I fucking dare you!' a man shouted from behind Eden. Joost glared, seething and dying to do exactly as the man said.

'You think you're tough shit?! I'll take you any day! You and your fucking bitch!'

'Joost, stop it!' Fenne cried, pulling extra hard on his arm. This time, he actually moved, but his glare was unwavering and attached to the Israeli team.

Just when Fenne thought she was dragging Joost away, he jerked back to give Eden's camera the middle finger. It was harsh and the woman flinched despite having two metres between them. Teun was able to step in front and forcefully shove Joost away. This initiated everyone to seperate, but not without insults and curses from Apson and Stuntje.

'Israel's not even in fucking Europe!'

'Your song was shit! Hurricane this dick, bitch!'

---

The cigarette outside Malmö Arena was a quiet affair and the car ride back to the hotel was even more so. They received word that Joost was through to Eurovision's final, but the events after the performance had dampened the mood considerably.

Outside their hotel room, Fenne leaned against the wall with her phone to her ear.

'It was amazing, Fenne. Everyone in the country is talking about Joost and Europapa. He should be very proud of himself,' Anna Meer said through the speaker.

'Yeah, everything went to plan,' she replied, doing her best to sound excited. But her mother knew her too well.

'What's wrong, honey? You sound upset.'

'I'm fine. We just... had an issue backstage and we didn't end up going out to celebrate. Joost is a little down right now.'

'Are you okay? Did you have an argument?'

'No, no, it wasn't to do with me,' Fenne ran a hand down her face and sighed. 'I'm sorry, Mum, I've got to go.'

'Alright, but you would tell us if something was wrong, right? I know you and Joost have worked things out, but you can always come home. He's going to be coming back to a media frenzy and I know you're not the biggest extrovert. You always have a place here. Joost does, too.'

Fenne smiled to herself with a warmth in her chest. Her mother had been particularly emotional in the past year. She wondered if it was because of the state Fenne was in from her and Joost's temporary break. It was the first time her mother had seen her daughter so taken with a boy, as well as affected by their separation.

It was comforting to know her mother was just a phone call away even if she was in another country.

'Thanks, Mum. I'll call you on Sunday.'

'Bye, Fenne. I love you.'

'I love you, too.'

Ending the call, the warmth that had spread through her chest ran cold. Hearing her mother's voice had distracted her for a few short minutes. But as the silence of the hallway elapsed, Fenne felt a weight return to her shoulders.

Everyone was in their respected rooms and Fenne thought about knocking on Hanna and Apson's door. Maybe they were still awake. Maybe they were still trying to get the synthetic beak off of Apson's face. Maybe Fenne could sit and get advice on what to do.

But when she checked the time, Fenne thought better of the idea.

Turning around, Fenne headed back into her shared room. The lights were off but the balcony's glass door displayed Malmö's small city. A sliver of the outside air breezed into the room and Fenne realised that Joost had left the sliding door open.

When she stepped through the small gap, Fenne closed the door behind her. The balcony had two chairs, one of which was already occupied, and a small table. With his ankles elevated and crossed on the tabletop, Joost's lit cigarette filled the air with its smell and his phone screen lit up his face.

'He was an Israeli journalist,' he said without looking up. Fenne paused in her descent into the second chair.

'Who?'

'The man who wanted to ask questions after the show. He's an Israeli journalist,' Joost turned off his phone and put it in his lap with a sigh. 'Somehow, he found out about my parents. There's an article floating around with everything about me and my "trauma".'

Fenne's jaw dropped and she rushed to type in her phone's passcode. Joost took a drag, the end of his cigarette lighting up in the dark and sitting in the corner of Fenne's eye.

The article was disgusting. The journalist made Joost out to be a poor, helpless boy whose crippling trauma secured him a place with the ESC. The details of his life, his parents' death, and even his older siblings were available for everyone to see.

'That's how the Israeli contestant knew,' Joost's voice made Fenne put her phone away.

'How did he find any of that out?'

'Doesn't matter. It's out, now.'

His monotone voice told Fenne everything she needed to know about how Joost was feeling. He had been quiet since leaving the arena. Fenne wished she could have done something, anything that could cheer Joost up, or erase the last hour from his memory. That way, his semi-final performance wouldn't be tainted by the horrible backstage events.

'I'm sorry it happened,' she decided to say and it made Joost meet her eye.

'Me, too. I'm sorry I got angry.'

'You had every right to be. Don't apologise for it,' Fenne said and reached out for Joost's hand. The corner of his lip twitched upwards at her gesture and he accepted it, feeling the same buzz from her touch that he always did.

'You're in the final. That's all that matters now.'