The last interview took the form of a conference. All the contestants who had made it through to the final sat on a panel with the press seated before them. With translators by their sides, the contestants gave their last thoughts before the final performance that would take place that night.

In a pair of pink sunglasses and in his collared shirt, Joost sat with The Netherlands flag over his shoulders. After consuming three Monster Energies at breakfast, Joost was prepared to answer any and every question that was thrown his way.

He had seen Eden Golan when he sat down and had the pleasure of being a mere person away on the table. His own translator sat behind him and hers hung over her shoulder, no doubt, aware of the hostility between the Israeli and Dutch representatives.

When he lowered into his seat, Joost had half a mind to say something about last night. But when the questions started rolling, Joost found a better way to make his sentiment towards her known.

'I have a question for Miss Golan!' a journalist held their hand up and was picked from the crowd. 'Have you ever thought, by being here, you bring risk and danger for other participants?'

A silence ensued and Joost smirked from underneath his flag.

'You don't have to answer that question if you don't want to,' one of the EBU's organisers said into the microphone. Emerging from the blue, white and red cloth, Joost leaned back against his chair and called out,

'Why not?'

Mumbles ensued and Joost relished in the smiles that were thrown his way from the press. Journalists had been dying to question the woman whose presence at the EBU was controversial. They were censored from asking difficult questions, but it seemed that the only way they were going to get answers, was from the prompting of one of Eden Golan's fellow contestants.

From the stage's table, Joost looked to the corner where he could see his team stood together. Stuntje, Apson, Nathan and Teun stood against the wall, their snickers making him want to burst into giggles. He caught the thumbs-up that was sent his way from Teun before he looked to the two smaller figures.

Fenne's palm was against her forehead and Hanna rubbed at her eyes with a groan. They were powerless from their place at the back of the room and Joost knew it. There was no PR voice nagging him to shut up and he had no fear of upsetting the wrong people. Joost didn't care, because he was in Eurovision's final, and no article or other contestant was going to take that from him.

'Um I think we're all here for one reason and one reason only,' Eden started into her microphone. 'The EBU are taking all safety precautions to make this a safe and united place for everyone. And um... I think it's safe for everyone.'

Joost scoffed as spots of applause sounded throughout the room. Members of the press jotted down notes while some sat back with their own bored expressions. It was an answer that was shaped for the cameras and everyone knew it. It satisfied who it needed to, and that was that.

'If I could say something to Friesland's Joost Klein?'

Joost perked up and looked around the room with wide eyes. The English was laced with a Dutch accent, making Joost grin.

'Friesland?! Are you from Friesland?!'

'Yes, Joost. Born and bred,' the journalist stood up, happy to be recognised by a fellow Dutchman. 'I just wanted to comment on the recent article that was released, and say that your parents were with you last night. They would be very proud of you.'

The applause that followed put the previous round to shame. The Dutch journalist smiled at Joost from his seat and Joost put his hands together to show his deep gratitude. He put aside his urge to make a mockery of the conference. If Joost didn't favour his relationship with Fenne, he would have leapt over the table and kissed the man in a passionate gesture.

After the conference concluded, Joost headed out the side to meet with his team. The press were filtered out through another door, leaving him to swagger his way to his proud friends.

'Smoke?' Apson suggested, fist-bumping in greeting.

'Hell fucking yeah,' Joost grinned and noticed the brooding expression on Fenne's face. Teasingly, he raised a brow behind his pink glasses and poked a finger into her cheek.

'What's wrong, liefje? You're too pretty to be frowning like that.'

With his tall frame and pursed lips, Joost made Fenne break. She wanted to show her feelings towards his reckless behaviour on the panel. It was foolish of him to poke the delicate situation they were now in and yet, Fenne's couldn't stop her cheeks from balling from her smile.

'There it is,' Joost chimed, mirroring her grin and slipping one arm around her shoulders.

'You're an idiot.'

'Maybe, but I'm Joost Klein, so it doesn't matter.'

Fenne rolled her eyes and leaned into his side. It was true, every word of it. Nothing mattered when Joost was next to her, living his dream, and in turn, creating hers in the mean time. When he wins the final, and Fenne was sure he would, Joost would have done what he had set out to do from the start. She was just glad that she would be there for it.

'When's dress rehearsal?' Hanna asked from beside them, her hand in Apson's. She was treasuring every moment that the man wasn't in his bulbous, awkward bird suit.

'Ask him. He's coming over now.'

True to Nathan's word, their personal organiser from the hotel was heading in their direction. His clipboard was against his chest and his hips swayed in their accentuated rhythm. Fenne was looking forward to hear from the organiser. He had made sure that Joost was on time to every event, interview and rehearsal. If it wasn't for him, Fenne was sure that she would have lost her head at some point in the competition.

'We're just going to go out for a smoke before we-'

'The EBU want to speak with you, Joost.'

The blonde paused at the organiser's unsmiling face and lack of enthusiasm in his voice. The grin that had struggled to leave his face was wiped clean. Whatever high he had been riding was weakening and the cigarette that he had been planning to have seemed all the more attractive.

'The EBU?'

'Yes, the European Broadcast-'

'I know what it stands for,' Joost cut off the organiser. 'They want to see me now?'

Gravely, the organiser nodded. Swallowing, Joost retracted his arm from Fenne's shoulders. It left the both of them cold and Fenne looked between him and the organiser with clenched teeth.

The EBU had been distant when it came to the Dutch team. They spent most of their time controling the drama that was the Israeli representative. Most of the contestants were forgotten about in comparison. But now, with the finale only hours away, the head of the Eurovision Song Contest was begging a personal audience with Joost.

'Can we come?' Fenne asked the organiser in English.

'I'm sorry, but it would be a confidential meeting. You can wait here, though.'

Joost didn't want to go alone but he had no choice. Turning to his friends, he sent a closed-lipped smile. When he looked down to Fenne, he didn't want to see the troubled green in her eyes or her bottom lip between her teeth. Seeing her worried made him worry and he could do nothing but turn away and head down the hall with the organiser.

—-

The wait was painful. Bambie took notice of the quiet corner on their way out and decided to join the Dutch team. After finding out about Joost's abrupt absence, the Irish representative took it upon themselves to smoothen the air.

'I'm sure it's nothing,' Bambie tried, directing their reassurance towards Fenne. The Meer had busied herself with gnawing on her thumbnail and Bambie attempted to pull it away.

'Don't do that. You need to get some acrylics, girl. They'll nip that in the bud,' she tried and Fenne managed a strained smile as she lowered her hand.

'Sorry.'

'Don't apologise to me. Apologise to your poor nail.'

Fenne appreciated Bambie's attempts to distract her. She liked the eccentric style of the contestant. They were much like Joost with their strange attire and bubbly personality. In his absence, Fenne found herself confiding in Bambie's presence.

'Did you like the panel?' Fenne's English was improving.

'Did I like it? I fucking loved Joost's response. He should get 'Why not?' on a t-shirt.'

Fenne giggled and Bambie joined in. Their exchange brought Hanna in, who was dying for some relief from her own anxiety. It wasn't long until the three found something in common and elapsed into general conversation.

Straightening up, Stuntje was the one who brought their attention from each other. The man's wide-eyed stare made Fenne look to the door, where the sight of pink glasses and blonde hair planted another hole in her stomach.

Joost dragged his feet and stopped a distance away from his team. Bambie was silent and Fenne stepped around them to be at the forefront of the group.

'What happened? What did they want?'

Joost said nothing. He closed the remaining gap between them and fell into her arms, her shoulder wet in seconds.

---

The final took place in Malmö Arena just as the semi-final had. Broadcasted across the world, the contestant that received the most points would be the winner of the Eurovision Song Contest 2024. Europe waved their flags and had their favourites, some picking a country different from their own. It transcended borders, just as Joost's father once said.

Joost should have been in his blue suit waiting to perform. He should have his two best friends in their costumes by his side, their laughter and usual banter boasting his confidence. He should have looked to his right, where Fenne was stood with Hanna, his producer and Belgian friend. She should have looked beautiful, her fingers fidgeting with his earphones that he was forced to go without.

But instead, Joost was crouched outside a Malmö bar with a waining cigarette.

Disqualified.

The EBU stated that Joost's threatening act against Eden Golan classed him as a danger to the competition. The Israeli representative claimed that he had made her feel unsafe and her team supported her as witnesses.

Without an investigation, or a call for the Dutch team's side of the story, Joost Klein was disqualified. He would not perform in Eurovision's final and Europapa was not eligible for the winning position.

'You didn't even touch her! What bullshit is this?!' Apson had cried.

The Dutch team were enraged, Stuntje even threatening to find the culprit and smash her phone under his shoe. The pack of cigarette that was shared out the back of the building witnessed the derogatory grumbles. If it were to repeat everything that was said, the EBU would have deported the team out of the country.

From inside the quiet bar, Fenne sat with her arms crossed. Their table had a heavy air that stunk of disappointment. With half-full drinks, the Dutch team tried to enjoy their final night in Malmö. Hanna had suggested they watch the final for Bambie and propped her phone up against the salt and pepper shakers.

Joost had silently excused himself and no one had questioned him. Fenne hated the empty space next to her in the booth and hated to see the stage on Hanna's screen. Her resilience to follow her boyfriend was short-lived and just as silently, Fenne stepped out of the booth and trudged for the door.