Note: depictions of death and loss; as well as some strong language in this chapter.

———

"I can't believe this is happening," George gasps, his emotions finally catching up to him. "One of us is about to die here."

"I know ... this is where Wham! finally ends — before it even started." Andrew wipes some tears from his eyes, not able to comprehend that in half an hour, he'll either be dead; or without his best friend.

"Wham!, huh? Is that the one you liked best?" George asks, in reference to the band name. "Whoever wins this game, has to go on and win the whole thing ... so that they can keep Wham! alive somehow. Deal?" He extends his arm out for Andrew to shake.

"Deal." Andrew takes his hand, heaving a sigh. "How about we wait until the last few minutes to play? Just make the most of our last half an hour together."

"Sounds good to me, mate." George nods, sitting down on the swing set that's beside him. Andrew takes a seat at the other swing. "We can just reminisce on the good old days until then."

Meanwhile, the stakes between Michael and Prince are high. Since they've discovered that one of them will die, it's become a lot easier for them to play together, ironically.

"It's such a shame that you're going to die in the next half an hour, Pretty Boy," Prince cackles, standing with his arms folded confidently. "It's been fun, playing with you all this time."

"That's if you don't lose," Michael retorts. "Because this game is based on luck. It isn't about skill."

"Whatever," Prince scoffs. "I'm sure you'll enjoy being with the other 98 players who die too, wherever you end up."

"Let's just play, shall we?" Michael hisses, becoming impatient. He glances over at the masked team member stood beside them — who is there to referee the game to ensure no cheating. "Excuse me, would you be able to keep score?" The masked team member nods, with no audible response. Michael looks back over at Prince. "We play until there's five minutes left. The team member keeps score and tells us who won. Then there's no cheating on either side."

"Sure thing." Prince unfolds his arms, poising ready to strike his chosen position. "Let's win this shit."

"Rock, paper, scissors," the pair chant in unison. At the same time, they both strike their choices. Michael hits rock; Prince hits paper.

"Take that, motherfucker," he taunts, his paper having won against Michael's rock.

"Shit," Michael curses under his breath.

On the other side of the room, Madonna and Lisa are playing their game. They're both currently tied neck-and-neck, but still have plenty of time to play.

"At this rate, neither of us will win," Lisa remarks. "Which, I don't know if that's a bad thing."

"Me either," Madonna responds. "But there's a risk of us both dying if we don't decide a winner."

"This is such bullshit," Lisa complains. "Why are they doing this to us?"

"Because it's a sick fucking joke to them. That's all it is."

"Rock, paper, scissors," they chant between their conversation. With scissors, Madonna beats Lisa's paper.

"I guess this is just going to go on until the end of the time," Lisa assumes monotonously.

"More-than-likely." Madonna huffs, "Rock, paper, scissors."

With her rock, Lisa beats Madonna's scissors. "How do we keep drawing like this?"

"It'll end up at sudden death eventually," Madonna states. "Just you watch."

"Do you remember the times when we used to go to the park really late at night to get pissed — when we were only fifteen or so?" George interrogates Andrew. "And there would be people watching us drunkly sing Elvis Costello songs at the top of our voices and they'd never say anything because they thought we were crazy?"

"Those were the best times of my life," Andrew sighs. "We were so carefree back then. We really thought GCSEs were the pinnacle of our existence, too."

"Ah, I failed Maths. But where has it gotten me in life?" George laughs carelessly, almost feeling the high of being drunk as he did when he was a teen.

"Well, you're in here on the verge of death so, perhaps you should have got your Maths GCSE, Yog," Andrew jokes. "But then, I could have probably been better off getting my Double Science too."

"Fuck it all, Andrew. Fuck it all," George decides, swinging backwards and forwards on the swing set. "None of that matters anymore. But hey — do you remember when you brought a girl home and your mum went ape-shit crazy on you for locking your bedroom door? That was mad."

Andrew chuckles as he remembers it fondly. "She said you were the only person I was allowed to see after that. I was grounded for months." He shakes his head, "Seems crazy that it was only a few years ago. Feels like a lifetime."

"Doesn't it just?" George presses his feet against the ground, to stop the swing abruptly. "But at least you got to bring your girls home. I always felt too ashamed to. That — and my parents told me no sex until marriage. Fuck that."

"Well, judging by how long you and Elton were gone yesterday, it seems like you paid no attention to what your parents told you." Andrew winks at him, knowing full-well what happened between them. "But it's nice that you got to experience that kind of love ... even if it could only be once."

"Yeah ... he makes me so happy, Andrew." George's eyes fill with tears again. "And he might not survive this game. If his partner wins, I'll lose him too."

"Well, I guess we just have to hope he won't lose," Andrew says. "I can't really say for sure whether he will win or not."

"It might not matter anyway, if I lose too." George shrugs, as if his life suddenly means nothing to him. "If I lose, it won't make any difference whether Elton lives or not. I'll still never see him again. Almost makes me question whether it's worth carrying on with this myself."

"Hey, don't talk like that. You're the happiest I've ever seen you, when you're with him. Even if you make it and he doesn't, he'd want you to carry on for him. And if you didn't make it and he did, I'm sure he'd keep going for you too."

"And what about you?" George looks to his friend. "What about us? One of us has to die in this round."

"I know. But I'm sure whoever survives will continue and fight to win this thing. I know I would if I won." Andrew places an arm around George, bashing their heads together playfully. "Come on. Have a little faith."

By twenty minutes in, Prince and Michael are almost tying in their game. With five minutes of their personal playing time left, the tensions are rising.

"Rock paper scissors," they chant together. Michael's rock beats Prince's scissors.

"Rock paper scissors."

Prince's paper beats Michael's rock.

"Rock paper scissors."

Michael's scissors beat Prince's paper.

"Rock paper scissors."

Prince's rock beats Michael's scissors.

"You're gonna fucking lose this," Prince trash-talks, in an attempt to psych Michael out to distract him.

"We'll see." Michael's guard is not being let down. He is determined to survive this, just for the chance to see his teammates again.

"Rock paper scissors."

Michael's rock beats Prince's scissors.

"There's only a minute left for our game now," Michael reminds him. "And I'm currently beating you. Just remember that."

"Fuck," Prince breathes. "Keep going dumbass!"

"Rock paper scissors."

Prince's scissors beat Michael's paper.

"Now we're even," Prince cackles. "Sudden death."

"Okay." Michael's heart begins to palpitate, at the idea that this could be his final few moments before death. He closes his eyes, not wanting to see what Prince chooses.

"Rock paper scissors!"

A silence follows as Michael strikes rock. Time seems to slow down; all he can hear is his heart thudding harshly against his ribcage. He daren't open his eyes, just in case the gun is already being pointed to him.

"Player 077 — pass."

His eyes open faster than he can process, as he catches sight of Prince. Prince's eyes widen in fear and shock, as he panics.

"Wait, no! One more round!" he cries, trying to wrestle with the masked team member — who already has the gun pointed at him. "Michael, please one more round!"

"I'm sorry," Michael whispers, a shaky breath passing his lips; as the the gunshot that takes Prince's life, rattles the entire ground.

Michael watches as the overly-confident character collapses, with blood splattering across the gravelly floor.

"Player 017 — eliminated."

Michael cannot move for a few moments, as he is in shock at what has just occurred. The only thing that brings him out of his sickening trance is the sound of the tannoy sounding again.

"Player 063 — pass."

His entire demeanour changes, as he runs across the room to find Whitney stood alone. Her partner — Player 099 — is lifeless on the floor.

"Player 099 — eliminated."

The pair embrace tightly, both relieved that they managed to pass the game and remain together for the next day, at the very least. They look at each other, tears in both their eyes, as they take one another's hands.

"Thank god," Whitney smiles. "I'm so happy for you."

"Me too," Michael laughs, despite still shaking from witnessing Prince's death. "And no more Mr Arrogant to bother us."

Their reunion is interrupted by a blood-curdling scream. "Michael!"

"Player 069 — pass."

In bewilderment, he looks around the room desperately, to find where the voice came from. He eventually sees Lisa looking at him, from across the playground. He and Whitney dart over to her, to see that she's got a bullet wound in her chest.

"Lisa," Michael breathes, catching her just as she collapses. "Oh god, Lisa!" He kneels down, holding her slowly-dying body in his arms. "Hey, it's okay ... I got you. You're okay."

Lisa's breath catches in the back of her throat, as she struggles to talk. "Michael ... "

"Hey, don't try to talk. You're okay. You're fine." Tears are forming in his eyes; even though he no longer loves her after their relationship on the outside world, he still feels pain for the fact she's about to die. "Just shhh ... "

"I-I still love you ... " she confesses, her breath hitching in her oesophagus. "I'm sorry ... "

"Hey, don't be sorry. You're wonderful." He tries to smile, but instead it appears more as though he's gritting his teeth as his crying stops his lips from contorting correctly. "You're so special."

This is all she needs to hear from him, as she smiles weakly through the pain. "That's all I needed ... " she tells him, before she takes her final breath. Her eyes roll upwards, although remaining open, which causes Michael to begin to cry.

"Shit man!" he calls hysterically, with raspiness in his voice; as he buries his head in his free hand. "Fuck this shit!"

"Player 094 — eliminated."

Madonna has tears in her eyes as she watches Michael cradle her closest friend. With scorn deep within her at Michael breaking Lisa's heart, she walks away silently.

"Let's do this. Best of five to decide who wins," George explains to Andrew. The pair stand up from their respective swings, facing opposite one another. Before they can begin their games, they hear the tannoy.

"Player 080 — pass."

George smiles, "Elton won."

"See? Now you have something to go on for, if you win," Andrew replies, happy for his buddy. "Anyway. Let's play."

"Rock, paper, scissors."

Andrew's rock beats George's scissors.

"Rock, paper, scissors."

George's scissors beat Andrew's paper.

"Rock, paper, scissors."

George's paper beats Andrew's rock.

"Rock, paper, scissors."

Andrew's scissors beat George's paper.

"I guess this is it, mate." George expels a nervous exhalation, mentally preparing for what will be the hardest moment of his life. "Good luck."

"Good luck, Yog." With genuine smiles exchanged, they begin their final game together.

"Rock, paper, scissors."

George strikes paper, but Andrew hesitates a moment; observing George's choice before he chooses rock himself.

"What?" George gasps, leaning forward to shake his best friend. "You waited until after I chose! You can't do that! Play again! You can't just lose like that!"

"George ... " Andrew's voice trails off. "Let me just lose this in style, okay?"

"What the fuck are you talking about!" George exclaims, holding Andrew's face in both hands to try and talk some sense into him. "Play it again!"

"Look ... Elton won this game against his partner. He needs you. You need to go on without me so that you can spend longer together. I've never seen you so happy than when you're with him."

"But that doesn't make sense," George reasons desperately. "You can't do this to me Andrew."

"I can. And I will." By now, tears are forming in both the men's eyes. "Go back out there and start our band for me. Go and live the dream and make sure that you have plenty to tell me when you come and join me again."

A tear falls shamelessly down George's face. "Andrew, please ... "

"Don't let my death be in vain. Go and be with Elton for the last few days. He loves you. And I love you. No homo though."

The silly comment causes George to laugh through his sobs. "You daft bugger." He brings his lifelong best friend into his arms in the most emotion-filled hug he's ever had to give. "I love you, Andrew. My best friend. For life."

They part, and Andrew holds George's arms. "Thank you ... Georgios Kyriacos Panayiotou ... for sticking with me until the very end."

"It's been my honour, Mr Ridgeley." His mouth closes as his lips start to tremble; he pulls away from Andrew as he hears the tannoy.

"Player 025 — pass."

The masked team member approaches Andrew, holding the gun aimed to his head. George looks his friend in the eyes; Andrew smiles emptily at him as the bullet is shot into his head. George flinches aggressively at the sound, watching his partner in crime fall to the floor.

"Player 024 — eliminated."

George runs over to him, lifting the still shell of Andrew into his arms and holding him as if he were still alive. His heart-wrenching screams fill the playground, as he painfully mourns for the only person who ever accepted him from the very beginning.

Player 025 is the only remaining player in the room by now, as he continues his emotional pleading alone; with Player 024 motionless in his embrace.

~~

Chapter thirteen! When I say I cried writing Andrew's death ... I CRIED.