Stuntje put his car into park. Half mounting the curb, his SUV lined the many other cars in the alleyway. He and Fenne threw their doors closed before walking around the bonnet. Stuntje went to take the paper bag from Fenne, but she insisted she was okay. He threw his hands up with a shrug before weaving through the parked cars.

'Do you have the drinks?' Fenne asked and rolled her eyes when she saw the man pause in front of her. Sheepishly, he stepped out of her way to let her through before he headed back to the car.

Fenne continued onto the set of the TRAFFIK! music video. Käärijä, or Jere, as Fenne had learnt was his real name, had brought along his team to prepare everything. Albino Sports' involvement was minimal, but Fenne's camera work was something that Joost had insisted on being incorporated.

It was a requirement for any collaboration Joost signed for. If an artist wanted to be associated with Joost Klein's name, then Fenne Meer had to be in the credits. She appreciated the insistence as it kept her working and involved, but sometimes, Fenne wondered if that was Joost's real reasoning.

She questioned this because of the way Joost looked away from Jere and gave her the biggest smile when Fenne arrived on set.

'You made it!' Joost cheered, walking over to meet her halfway.

'I did,' Fenne accepted the peck he gave her. 'Stunts has the drinks.'

Joost nodded. In black wide-legged jeans, a suit jacket and tie, Joost's outfit didn't scream TRAFFIK!. A pair of small glasses had replaced his thick-rimmed ones and his hair had been flared at the back. A neon green pocket square sat over his left breast, the only thing that matched other things worn by surrounding extras.

'Jere, you have macaroni,' Fenne said in English while pulling out the plastic box. The short, blonde man in a similar outfit to Joost stepped forward.

'Thank you! That was nice of you get me lunch.'

'Don't talk about it.'

'You mean "don't worry about it", liefje,' Joost corrected her.

'Oh, sorry! I meant worry. My English is not great.'

Jere laughed and waved his hand dismissively. Due to the different languages, they found it easier to communicate in English. It made production run smoother when everyone was using a mutual language.

'They didn't have Monster,' Stuntje stated as he joined the three. He held out two Redbulls and Joost and Jere both 'tsk'ed. They simultaneously took the cans while chuckling at their likeness.

Fenne was glad to see a smile on Joost's face. He had been looking forward to finalising the song and getting back into performing. TRAFFIK! was a long awaited release. Many had heard of Joost and Käärijä's friendship after their involvement with Eurovision. The collaboration brought together Käärijä's Finnish fanbase, Joost's Dutch fanbase and the global following that the two had accumulated. It couldn't have come at a better time with the summer festivals fast approaching. TRAFFIK! was a song that Joost to perform for his first lot of performances after the disqualification.

After a much needed break, Joost was looking forward to getting back on stage. He didn't know what to expect from the crowds, but the positive feedback to Luchtballon on social media made him optimistic. He couldn't mope about the disqualification forever. He had to get back out there and Käärijä's efficient team and similar style was the perfect opportunity.

'Alright, Joost, are you ready?' a man asked as they finished their lunch. With a crimson bottle in hand, the man instructed Joost to keep his head steady as he tipped the liquid from his nostril.

'What's that?' Fenne asked with raised eyebrows.

'Fake blood,' Jere answered. 'Joost needs a blood nose for the scene.'

'Give me €10 and I'll save you the bottle.'

Stuntje's quick response earned him a series of snickers. Fenne didn't care for the joke about punching Joost and rolled her eyes. She watched the man, who she assumed was a make-up artist, squirt a stream of fake blood down Joost's cupid's bow. A bubble dripped from his nostril, making it look like it flowed from his nose. The blonde hairs in his moustache were caked in the liquid and the stream halted before it climbed the hill of his lip.

The make-up artist left to let the effect dry on Joost's face. He busied himself with fixing his suit jacket and yanking up his sagging jeans. He had decided to not use a belt today and it was proving to be an irritating mistake.

'How does it look?' Joost asked the trio, but he only cared about one of their answers.

'Cool,' Stuntje answered and Jere nodded along. Joost tried to look like he cared but stood waiting for Fenne's thoughts. He waited for her to finish chewing, her green eyes analysing the stream with a quizzical stare.

'Hot. You look hot.'

Joost eyebrows shot up and Stuntje and Jere wondered if Fenne understood her own English. They turned to look at the woman whose gaze flickered between her lunch and the bleeding man. Sensing the stares, a pink grew on her cheeks and she lowered her head.

In all honesty, the sight of Joost's bloody lip drove Fenne insane. His lightened hair and small glasses over his piercing eyes only added to the allure. If Stuntje and Jere weren't next to her, Fenne would have taken a closer look, maybe even tested how the fake blood tasted.

It was almost as attractice as the grill that had once been apart of Joost's every day attire. But she knew that the fake blood would not be making many appearances, so she thought it wouldn't hurt to voice her opinion when it was present.

'I'll take that any day,' Joost admitted, a smirk growing by the second. He hadn't expected an ego boost on set but at his ridiculously attractive girlfriend's encouragement, Joost felt like he could lift a mountain.

'Let's start filming before this turns into a porno,' Stuntje grumbeld, standing up and looking between the couple in disgust.

Jere bumped his shoulder against Joost's as he went to take his position. The Klein spared him a glance and noticed his wiggling eyebrows and suggestive smirk. After catching a glimpse of Joost's lockscreen, Jere had made a comment about the woman who would be filming their video. It had been in good nature and made Joost launch into a gush about his beautiful girlfriend.

Then when she arrived on set, Jere's teeth ached from the sweetness that Joost drowned Fenne in. Despite the playful, nonchalant exterior, Joost surprised Jere with his affection for his girlfriend. To have her signed in contract and collaboration was admirable. Jere wondered if her camera work was as good as Joost boasted.

With the music video's release and their next concert lined up, Jere had his answer.

—-

Jere and Joost took to the stage with their newest song. The crowd was huge with faces stretching back as far as they could see. The growth of Joost's popularity made their names the main event and with Fenne as their camera lense, Jere was amazed at his fellow performer.

No matter where Fenne was on stage, Joost shuffled to be beside her. When she was looking down at her camera, Joost would appear over her shoulder. When she tried to get shots of Jere during his verse, Joost would be nearby waiting his turn with his microphone in hand.

Never had Jere seen someone so in love.

'Now I do want to say something!' Joost said into his microphone. They had just finished TRAFFIK! and Jere was set to remain on stage while Joost and Fenne would exit to their right.

'I don't want to overshadow Käärijä's performance today,' he said and Jere stepped to be beside the taller man. For good measure, Jere put an arm around Joost and it was returned in a close hug.

'But we can't ignore the word that no one wants to say,' Joost continued. 'I love you all so so so much. I feel very grateful to be up here and I just wanted to say fuck Eurovision!'

The crowd screamed in affirmation.

'Fuck the EBU!' Jere shouted into the microphone and held his middle finger up. 'Fuck Eurovision!'

It felt good to say it. Ever since that night in Malmö, Joost had been pondering Fenne's words. She had said exactly how he felt only without the raging fury that accompanied it. The months Joost spent smoking countless cigarettes and trialling new beats with Teun gave him the time to admit how he truly felt about the disqualification.

He hated the EBU. He despised how they treated him and his team after all they did. He hated the Israeli contestant and hated the journalist who exposed his personal life to the world. The therapy sessions became harder and Joost struggled to watch himself in the semi-final TikTok clips. It was all because of the EBU and Joost could finally admit that. Just like Fenne had said, he had done nothing wrong, and he realised that now.

'Fuck Eurovision! Fuck Eurovision! Fuck Eurovision!'

The chant grew with each row. The crowd didn't need to be conducted as they became a collective voice. Without a beat or music from the DJ booth, the festival rang with the words that had become Joost's anthem.

Fenne kept her camera facing the performers as she looked to the crowd. Never would she have thought she would hear Joost say the words aloud. He had been reserved on the topic and hadn't voiced his sentiments to the public yet. But with the chant growing louder, Joost was getting the recognition and closure that he deserved.

A PR representative would have cringed at the statement, but it had to be said. Every person Fenne had spoken to had said the same, so to ignore it would be ridiculous. It was also unlike Joost's persona to restrain himself from stating what would be considered taboo.

It's what made Joost Klein so unique. He was the people's champion and a censored song contest wouldn't keep him quiet.

With a final bow, Joost embraced Jere. He expressed his gratitude in the Finnish man's ear and clapped him on the back. The crowd's chants turned into hoots to send Joost off the stage on a high. He pulled away from Jere and waved, before turning to where Fenne filmed.

The feed from her camera had switched to Jere's perspective and she was free to head for the stage's exit. Fenne's stare was glued to Joost, who joined her with a wide grin.

The brim of his baseball cap sat askew, making him look all the more goofy. Fenne felt his arm around her shoulders and his lips pressed against her temple. The bomber jacket over Joost's collared shirt and tie was large enough for Fenne to feel safe against his side. Joost never broke his stride and in turn, Fenne was guided backstage as Jere continued his set.

'That was bold,' Fenne mentioned. 'I don't know why I expected anything less from you and Käärijä.'

'I couldn't help myself. I'm not going to act like it didn't happen or be afraid of talking about it,' Joost said. 'It's not Voldemort. I will name and shame the EBU from this point on.'

'I'm glad to hear it.'

'I think I'm ready, you know?' Joost made Fenne pause and in turn, the man stopped with her. They were halfway towards their personal trailer and festival workers took little notice of the two. With his arm still around her shoulder, Joost beamed down at Fenne as she craned her neck up to his height.

'For what?' she asked, her own smile lingering at the sight of his.

'To start again. Fuck Eurovision.'

Fenne nodded and used one hand to pull his face down to her level. She kissed his cheek, making Joost giggle. With her whole chest, Fenne repeated,

'Fuck Eurovision.'