Chapter Text
Till expected huge things coming his way. He crossed the school entrance for the first time in three months of absence. What huge things, you may ask? Well, huge, obviously. What are you, fucking stupid?
Huge things, as in rounds of applause, happy screams, lights on him. Seriously, though! He pulled a "What'd I Miss?" in the style of Thomas Jefferson - only thing lacking was a Miku binder - And as the self-proclaimed most liked kid in school, he really hoped everyone would be thrilled with ecstasy to see him.
That did not happen.
In fact, no one really noticed him. Maybe except Acorn - A nagging kid, his presence hurt like an intestinal ulcer. He had been trying to get Till's attention since elementary school, unsuccessfully. Acorn - upon seeing Till - threw himself at his feet, ready to kiss his shoes with admiration and longing.
It was… Probably fine, except that Till didn't care much about Acorn, so the attention from him specifically could be used only to wipe his tight ass. Till just told him to get his act together because what he did was, hashtag, mega-lame - And Acorn, as if hoping for appreciation, made a thousand jokes about Till being in reformatory for three months.
The first time, Till laughed. The second time, he said that yes, he understood the joke, and the third time, he threw Acorn's shoes in the trash. He ignored all the next times.
And since there was no great glee towards Till in the hallway, he thought that he'd receive at least crumbs of attention from the teachers in class. After all, the three months he’d been absent weren’t because he’d been sent to a reformatory, but because he’d been chosen for a mega-cool arts program, representing their school. Because he was, quite simply, the best.
Yeah. Attention from them, you say? That did not happen.
The teacher just said she hoped Till had fun, because now he has a lot of catching up to do.
Thank you, universe, for always picking Till last, and not just in PE.
Luckily, there were still people who probably hadn't forgotten him, and who would surely be happy to see him. So far, he'd only run into Hyuna, but he was sure everyone else would be there soon.
"Agent Hyu, you missed me, love?"
Hyuna was sitting on the table in the gazebo outside, their usual hangout spot. She was on her phone and barely even spared Till a glance when she noticed him.
"Ew, don't ever say that!" Okay. So, look, Till might not have expected balloons and welcome gifts or anything like that. But a little 'Hi, Till' would have been appreciated. "That reformatory did you nothing good!"
So God-forsaken Acorn wasn't the only original one.
Oh yeah, and that joke probably wasn't even his! He totally must've heard it and repeated it, and he was lucky enough to be the first person to use it on Till! And he laughed like a sucker...
"Not a reformatory!" He pouted and crossed his arms. "But I agree for you to tell others that it is. It is a boost for my emotionally unavailable bad boy image, you know-"
And he was just about to give her a scolding for not greeting him properly, until he heard a voice - or rather, a squeak - which was very welcome. Mizi was running toward him. Her girlfriend, Sua, rushed right next to her.
They had a beautifully decorated box, and a few colorful balloons.
Oh yes. This is what we call real friends!. Not like Hyuna, or - God forbid - Luka, whom he thankfully hadn't seen yet. That's when his day would have reached rock bottom.
"Till!" Mizi shouted, her smile so big it almost made her face explode. He couldn't lie, it did wonders for his always-frowned expression.
Miz. A real sunshine, a sweetheart this world never deserved. Her heart was pure, she was the definition of selflessness. Her smile could make the sun jealous.
The day she was born, she turned the world upside down with her positive energy. She was a girl you'd love to grab a drink with; Or an alcohol-less cocktail. A strawberry flavored Oreo and Red Velvet album was a necessity that came with this pack. Give her $20 and she will donate $30 to charity. If she was a music genre, she'd be shoegaze dream pop.
"Miz!" He shouted back, just as enthusiastic. Well, okay, Sua might not have seemed super fascinated by the sight of him, but she simply was. Inside, she was probably bursting with joy.
For sure.*
“We brought you a-”
She stopped in front of him and opened the box, keeping its contents hidden from view. Her face froze in the exact same smile she’d been wearing, not a muscle moving except for the faintest flutter of her eyelid.
Despite this, her excitement didn’t waver. She turned the box around so he could finally see the inside.
“We brought what was, at first, a cake!”
Inside was something that had definitely once been a cake. Unfortunately, thanks to her frantic and careless running, it had lost some of its original shape along the way.
A cake was a cake, no matter the baker (or a runner), and! This was actually so thoughtful of them, if Till had any emotions left within him, he'd cry! (Not really, though. He was tough, hard as nails, and boys like him never cried.
…
Crode?)
"Thank you, that... I didn't expect it at all!" No one had EVER given him surprises like that, not even Mizi. Maybe everyone missed him a little more this time? They surely seemed a little more relaxed, as if Till's presence had lifted all their worries… Hm. Considerate.
He didn’t even know how to react. The girls set the box down and tied the balloons to the bench. Mizi immediately threw her arms around Till, while Sua merely gave him an awkward pat on the shoulder. Hyuna watched it all from the background, thoroughly amused, though every now and then she glanced down at her phone, as if Till's comeback wasn't the most interesting thing happening that day.
At least Mizi was happy, and Sua too, he supposed.
The first girl stated:
"I'm glad you're happy! It was Ivan's idea!"
Wh-
Who?
"He doesn't know him yet." Sua replied to the girl, #true; Her voice was hushed, as if she was relaying classified government information when in reality she was just trying to bring her girlfriend back to reality.
"Oh, that's so true! Exciting!" She smiled wider (Really, how was she doing that?)
"Who's Ivan?" he asked, trying (and failing) to keep his smile steady.
Not like he cared, or anything. But if there was one thing Till hated, it was having no idea what had happened while he was gone. A textbook case of FOMO - that one thing that ruined his life every single day.
"He's the coolest person in the world!" She replied, spinning around, dreamy. Her voice honeyed so much it hurt Till's teeth. "Right next to you, of course." She gave him a playful wink. Sua looked at her askance, as if to add, 'What about me?'
Riiiight.
Coolest person in the world.
Till didn't even fight it this time, his smile faded. No, it vanished completely, as if it was the victim of Thanos and the blip.
Who was Ivan? Why had he thought to give a gift to someone he didn’t even know? And why did Till already dislike him?
He definitely wasn’t that cool. Right?
"Where is he, by the way? I was waiting for you to meet!"
"I just texted him. He won't be able to come here any soon. Training…" Said Hyuna.
HYUNA.
Maybe you don't know this- I mean, you definitely don't, because you're just getting to know this sick world. Till felt jealous; he'd rather not know this world either. But-
Hyuna wasn't texting anyone. EVER. With the sole exception of Luka, of course. It wasn't like she was withdrawn from social media; she had blogs, Twitter, and TikTok accounts. She just genuinely couldn't care less about texting anyone. She didn't even reply in their group chat because, in her words, “it's stupid and a waste of time.”
Besides, she never texted people from school. If she had to talk to someone, she called - and only if she absolutely had to. She ignored all her DMs, didn't even like her friends' posts; as far as she was concerned, no one was worth her attention.
And now she was sitting there, texting this Ivan as if nothing else in the world existed.
So. Even more so. Who the fuck was this Ivan?
I mean, it was nice of him to get Till something that looked like cake, and balloons, but... Somewhere in the background, he felt a twinge of anxiety.
Mizi must have noticed the frown on his face, because she spoke immediately, with that perfect, familiar, 'everything will be fine!' tone of voice.
"Aw, don't be sad! I'm sure he'll find some time to talk to you later!" What?
Wait, what? Had they all gone crazy? Why would anyone think Till would be depressed at the thought of not meeting someone? What was he, a fangirl?
𝙽𝙾𝚆 𝙿𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙸𝙽𝙶
ɴᴏ ᴄᴏᴏʟ ᴋɪᴅꜱ ᴢᴏɴᴇ
▶︎·|၊|။||||။၊|။|||။|||။ 2:30
⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻
As it turned out, Mizi wasn't the only one totally infatuated with the new boy at school. Well, new for him - Because apparently, Ivan joined their school just a week after Till left. He got to know everyone, everyone got to know him, and everyone adored him. He heard so many good things about Ivan, even Santa Claus nor Saint Augustine received such warm descriptions.
That was his end. This day was supposed to be his! He was back! He was the star! And instead of asking him how the program was, everyone just asked him if he'd met Ivan yet, and that it was terrible that he hadn't. That his life would be better if he did.
Okay, he was overreacting, it was not like that - They just told him that there was this new guy Ivan and that he was super cool and nice. Whatever! That didn't impress him much!
And the teachers, duh. He constantly heard that if he had trouble catching up, he should go to Ivan because apparently he was not only cool and nice, but also smart and responsible.
He hoped this day would end quickly. And he hoped that after all the classes, he'd be able to enjoy his time in his personal private room, his own zone. His comfort place.
What place?
Tiiiimeee fooooor trauma dumping! Big portions go cheaper! Try before it's all sold! Don't like, don't try, we do not accept returns!
Till wasn't always like that.
Is what I'd say if it was true. It wasn't, but I had to get your attention.
In fact, it's not even trauma dumping. Till had no trauma, his life was closer to sunshine, rainbows and butterflies. He was just overdramatic like that, just a little fucked up, that's it.
When he was a kid, he was even more himself. Get Till and turn him into a 170% version of Till, type thing. Much more explosive, more vivid, more expressive. No one fully understood why he was the way he was. He had a loving mother and pretty much no problems at home. Just a massive amount of energy, and that's why he was so… So.
Then, when school started, the teachers saw it as a problem. Constant criticism, bad grades, all because of his ‘negative’ behavior. They tried punishments, made him stay after school, all that shit. And then, during one of those classes-after-classes thingy, Till was assigned to draw a house. Simply put, he was drawing while some strange woman asked him about his mom, his dad, his friends, whether anyone had ever hit him, or whether anyone had ever played with him - and told him not to talk about any of it.
Till denied everything, mainly because he was too fascinated with drawing the house to pay much attention, but also because none of those things had ever happened to him. It wasn't until he was a teenager that he realized it had been a psychological test, and to this day, he still found the whole thing somewhat amusing.
But there had been a silver lining. The woman, probably a psychologist, noticed that his drawing of the house was unusually good for a child his age, and that Till was remarkably calm while creating it. She told his teachers and his mother, who eventually enrolled him in drawing classes.
The classes turned into a passion for all kinds of art. Painting, sketching, graphic design, and even music - that's how Till turned into a class-A artist. At home, he drew until they ran out of money for their supplies, painted until there were no blank spaces left even on the walls, played guitar until he got a warning from the housing association for noise pollution…
And after a while, he realized that this didn't necessarily fulfill him. I mean, it was nice. But he couldn't do graffiti at home because his mother would have gotten a heart attack, and he didn't want to play either because she had migraines.
A conversation with the principal (or rather, a huge plea and a promise to be good) and Till got what he wanted – permission to take over a small, unused room in the school's attic.
And that room became Till's greatest pride. Not only because he was the only person in the entire school who had anything like it, but because the room screamed TILL. His instruments, his paintings, his graffiti, even his furniture. He cared for this place more than he cared for his own room, and spent more time there than he did at home.
That's why he almost threw up from anger when he saw some guy - a complete stranger - sitting on HIS couch.
And on HIS floor were notebooks, papers, pens, and who knew what else, scattered everywhere.
And he was in HIS private room. NO ONE was allowed in there. His friends could maybe get away with it if they asked very nicely. Except Luka, of course. There was even a huge poster on the wall with Luka's face crossed out with a giant X and the words: “no entry.” Small letters, it’s so nonchalant.
Whoever that boy was, sitting on that couch, he was about to get his own poster.
"Excuse me?" He started, absolutely not carefully.
"Oh! Hello. I..."
"What are you doing in my room?" And who even was he? Till was sure he hadn't seen him earlier. Not like he knew everyone in the school, but still.
Probably someone really stupid. Because every single person in this building, whether they knew him or not, knew that Till had his own room in the school, and that THIS was THE room.
Till studied him for a second. He saw nothing special in particular, the only thing that stood out about him was the visible snaggletooth digging into his lower lip. Then: pale skin, dark hair, his eyes were shining in a color that looked practically red,
It hit Till.
No, it can't be… That dude…
He was totally a Vampire. Who would've thought! He expected many things, applause and gratitude were a part of this list - But he never thought that a bat demon in human form would nest in his room! Oh, it was good that he listened to Ozzy Osborne. He knew EXACTLY what to do.
Little bat! Where's your head at?!
"In your what?" The stranger looked confused, but also as if he were ready to start a fight.
Sure. Till might even agree to a little 1v1, a little world star on his part, but he seriously didn't have the energy today. He sighed heavily.
"Look, Edward Cullen, everyone has been really pissing me off today. If you could get your ass up and leave my room,"
The stranger smiled weakly as he answered:
"I'm... Sorry, but I've been coming here everyday. How is that your room and why do I know nothing about it?"
Coming here EVERYDAY? Sorry, since when?! Someone was breaking into his space, doing God knows what and why, and! Bragging about it?
“Dracula, you're in my spot. Leave. Dude.”
“This is a public school. I have a right to be here, just as you do.” He answered, visibly getting irritated by Till's rudeness. Like he's the one to decide that! Unlike the guy, Till had permission to be here!
“Not here.”
“Why not?”
“Because it's my spot.” He frowned. “Do you even know who I am?”
“Not really, no.” He shook his head slowly. “But I like it here. I don't understand why we can't both be there.”
“Because it's my room! I have a written permission to own this room! Permission from the principal! For as long as this school can remember, this has been my room!”
Till hoped that the stranger won't ask to see the permission, he didn't have a written one. He just heard one small “Fine” from the principal and decided to turn it into his personality.
But the stranger looked at him as if he were stupid and didn't understand what was being said to him. Till had had enough and decided to take matters into his own hands. He grabbed the boy's backpack (God, it was heavy. What was he keeping there?), along with other things.
"What are you doing?" He asked before getting up from the couch.
"You're taking my spot, I'm taking your things."
He didn't seem to like that. He approached Till, thinking it would scare him. Till was not a small chihuahua, all bark no bite! Sure, the guy was a little taller and generally bigger than Till, but he'd won fights with bigger dogs. He wasn't afraid of some loser.
"Give me that." Mhm. You see, he never used to surrender.
"Come get it." He barked. The stranger rolled his eyes.
"Are you five?"
Till gave him a look encouraging him to duel, a small smirk on his lips.
"Come. Get. It."
As he reached for the backpack, Till pulled it away just in time.
"Seriously, give it back." What a loser!
"No."
He then grabbed the other strip of the backpack and tried to yank it, unsuccessfully. Weird, Till could've sworn he hadn't used all his power. After what seemed to be hours of ‘let go’s and ‘no’s, the stranger said:
"I don't want to hurt you." That distracted Till a bit. I mean, it wasn't that he was scared by the words, it was just-
"Dude, cringe." He winced.
"Fine."
And suddenly, he yanked the backpack toward himself.
Just to be clear. Till had it under control. Okay, he didn't, but he would have if the boy hadn't said those disgusting, ego-inducing words. Because Till accidentally lost his grip on the backpack, but the force the other boy used made him somersault forward, pushing the guy-
And something happened that made a terribly loud, unbearable noise.
They both froze in place. The situation looked bad. The window was gone, the bag: missing. And the only sound was a car's alarm. Till slowly and carefully approached the previously-a-window. The backpack was on the previously-a-windshield of the principal's car.
The other boy appeared next to him a few seconds later, as if afraid this action would end with Till throwing him from a height. Till felt the other boy staring at him as if expecting an answer.
Instead, Till asked, very calmly:
“What was in that bag?”
The answer came out just as calm:
“Dumbbells. I train a lot.”
Till hummed.
“Wonderful.”
They both stared down for a moment longer, speechless, as if witnessing the most incredible and beautiful sight of the end of the world. Equally wasted, ready for their lives to soon be over. This sight was only spoiled by the sound of hurried footsteps echoing down the hallway.
And the sight of the director, already waiting at the doorstep. He knew exactly where to find the culprit.
That was it! So much for having the room. Surely, the director would take it away from him completely soon, and the only one to blame would be that loser with the snaggletooth.
The same loser who summed it up by saying:
“Sorry, but this was actually totally your fault.”
The director looked at them both as if he had expected it just as much as he hadn't.
The car alarm continued screaming outside, but louder than that, Till heard the man's words:
“I want to see you both at my office. Now.”
This day COULDN'T have gotten any worse.
So what was left? He hadn't even had time to torment this unknown boy yet. On the way to the office, he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to his new non-colleague:
"Great. First day back and I'm already going to the principal's office."
"First day back?"
Really, who was he, and how come he hadn't heard of Till, ever?!
A few minutes later, both of them were just waiting for the principal to enter. They sat on the opposite sides of the office, silent as if even a single word would curse them - Till didn't doubt it. But honestly, the boy didn't know the last time someone had pissed him off enough to make him shut up.
Finally, he arrived, his savior and his nightmare, the principal. In his hands was a backpack, which he lifted to his chest.
"Whose is this?"
The stranger put his hand up.
"And whose idea was it to throw it through the window?"
They both remain silent, glaring at one another, but Till had a great urge to yell ‘It was him!’ The only withdrawal of this plan was that the principal would NEVER believe him.
“Wonderful." The man said, looking at Till with his murderous eyes. "Till." He stated simply, the boy could swear that he noticed the other guy tremble when hearing the name.
He looked at him confused, before he heard the director say:
"This is Ivan. Our new student."
Oh bright Angela.
For the first time in his life, Till felt helpless. Of course, IT was Ivan. Beloved by all the students and staff Ivan. Every teacher's dream Ivan. The 'never did anything wrong in his entire life' Ivan.
"You're the Till?" he asked, his voice soft and broken. Of course. And he'd heard of Till too. After all, the idea with the gift and balloons was his.
Funny. So his friends had told Ivan enough things to make him afraid to say his name, but they hadn't told him that Till had a room in the school's attic?! Everything was their fault! Totally!
"Apparently.” Till answered. Ivan gulped and nodded, then, he remained silent for a bit, as if he was either very worried about something or trying very hard to hold back a comment. It turned out to be the latter, because after a moment of awful silence, he looked at Till and said:
“I imagined you'd be taller. And, y'know, stronger.”
Total death.
"I- Fuck you!"
"Till!" The principal reprimanded him.
You see.
If Ivan stays at their school until graduation, these will be truly unforgettable and wonderful years of his life, Till thought with a hint of sarcasm.
𝙽𝙾𝚆 𝙿𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙸𝙽𝙶
ɴᴏ ᴄᴏᴏʟ ᴋɪᴅꜱ ᴢᴏɴᴇ
▶︎·|၊|။||||။၊|။|||။|||။ 2:30
⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻
Till was already trembling with excitement at the prospect of talking to Mizi and Sua about Ivan the Terrible – Not the Tsar of Russia.
Because he'd heard a lot, oh yes, he had. Even Hyuna and Luka had already picked on him – annoying little bastards, wannabe bad minions - and they were yapping about how Ivan posed a threat to his reputation as the most popular kid.
Because the problem was obvious. Till was popular because the cool kids liked him. The lame kids didn't like him, but the cool kids didn't like the lame kids, so who cared about the lame kids??!!
And Ivan... From his observations, the cool kids liked him, but the lame kids liked him too... So basically, everyone liked him.
Till didn't like him. But did he have enough influence for his dislike of his new not-friend to affect the guy's popularity? He didn't know.
He decided to go to his friends and tell them all about that little punk - how he wasn't at all who they thought he was. Because, hello! First of all, he was occupying his room. His private room! His cool kid zone!!!
And secondly, he broke the window and was naughty, and acted rude. So he wasn't such a saint after all.
Mizi and Sua were sitting in the cafeteria, engaged in a passionate conversation, constantly interrupted by passionate, lesbian making out. Till stepped in.
"I met that prince charming of yours." He started, head held high and shit. Yes, yes! The Ivan ship was about to go down!
"Yes, we heard! Ivan told us!" But why were they so excited? Mizi looked like she was about to start throwing meatballs with joy. "You guys are adorable!" What now-
"Eh?" Maybe it was just some sick inside joke. Probably. He's been gone for a while, maybe that's what they call a complete mess these days. "If he's the cute, perfect guy, I'm really, really scared to hear what you guys say about me." He concluded, a pout on his face, and sat across from the girls.
"That you're the devil from the bible." Sua commented with a stoic expression.
But something didn't feel right. He knew Mizi well, and knew she didn't smile like that without reason. He'd only seen that kind of face on her when she was watching these hopeless romantic comedies.
"What did he say about me, sorry?" he asked, (not) ready for what he was about to hear.
"Everything! You had that friendly banter and accidentally made a mess. But then you took all the blame, and... That was so heroic of you, Till! You surprised me!" What. "Maybe that reformatory really did you goo-"
Oh, stop. Seriously, the joke about him being in the reformatory had gotten old when Acorn repeated it a hundred times the moment he saw Till.
"Not a reformatory! Just an art program! Jesus." But then it hit him.
Ivan did what? He said Till had taken the blame?
But first of all, that wasn't what happened. Till had fought tooth and nail to get Ivan punished for the damage. And what was more, Ivan had given in himself - like the loser he was - and claimed he'd done the whole thing. Even if it wasn't true.
Deep down, Till had to admit he was one hundred percent to blame. Not that he would ever admit that to anyone.
But secondly, it was so not like Till! They seriously believed Ivan? What, that Till had undertaken some lame-ass act of atonement? What would people think of him? That he'd lost it on the director's carpet, that-
Unbelievable.
Till had previously held a neutral-at-best, slightly-negative opinion of the new student. Now, however, he harbored a deep and very genuine hatred for him.
"Wait-"
He ignored Mizi's squeals about behaving like a great friend. Not at all! Till wasn't a great friend! Till was angry and disruptive, not good…
What if Ivan spills that bullshit to everyone? Oh no, that will so reduce his emotionally unavailable bad boy image!
He needed to find that Vampire.
The search didn't take long. Ivan was at the gym, alone after training. And, okay. Wow. He understood why all the girls turned their heads when they saw him. Ivan had really nice muscles.
I mean, come on. No homo. Till was pretty sure he preferred girls. Even if he had kissed a guy before.
If anything, this could be considered Till's one and only act of camaraderie: admitting to a friend (not a friend!) that his shirt hugged his biceps nicely, and that his ass was pretty damn eye-catching, right above those strong thighs hugged by his pants.
Okay. Whatever, ugh, he felt embarrassed that his brain had allowed those words to form.
"You! Louis!" He shouted to his non-friend. Ivan seemed surprised, a little confused.
"Louis?" Oh, so not only a loser, but also an ignorant one? They won't teach you this in your classes, but super idol Ivan wasn't watching the classics! Who hasn't seen Interview with the Vampire these days?!
"Louis, Lestat, Damon, whatever." he waved his hand, /nonchalantly. "Do you know what people say about me?" He tried to look menacing. Ivan stood, unfazed. "That I'm a cool kid gone lame."
Ivan raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"Are they, really?"
Well, technically no. Till made it up, and his brain believed it was true, the annoying brat. But considering how fast things were moving-
"No," He paused, biting his lip awkwardly. How could he put it in words so it would work in his favor?
"Ah." Ivan smiled and closed his eyes, barely suppressing a mischievous sneer. Sarcastic, like an IShowSpeed wannabe. "And what does that have to do with me?" Total poser. He thought he was cool?
"Well, you- You said that I took all the blame after what you did upstairs...?" And to be clear, he wasn't stressed or troubled at all. It was just that... That was all... he simply didn't understand how anyone could be as brazen as Ivan! That's all!
"So?" Ivan shrugged. There was innocence in his eyes, but Till knew that the devil probably practiced that look for hours in front of the mirror, just to look like a sweet, innocent child. "And you just admitted that no one has said anything about you.”
"But they probably will if you don't stop with these lies!"
Ivan ignored him at first, he grabbed his stuff from the floor, extra cautious as to not make Till take them away this time.
Only after he finished, he replied:
"I only lied to your friends about the situation. I didn't want them to think bad of you."
"They would never think bad of me. They love me. And they know exactly what I'm like, and why I am the way I am." Till crossed his arms. "And you? They barely know you!"
Ivan looked at him with something that resembled sadness, as if he'd been misjudged and was being punished for his good deed.
Dumbass. He probably did it on purpose.
"But they like me. I suppose." He said, his voice unsteady. "I was thinking that if I lied to them that you acted kind towards me, they'd be elated. That we get along well."
"We do not, tho." Till wasn't sure if this conversation made sense.
"Well, I don't have any grudge towards you if that's what you're asking."
Okay?
"Why would I care? I don't like you." Seriously, what was his deal? "And I'm sick of you trying to pretend that you're the nicest, likeable little shit. YOU are the devil from the bible! Not me!"
"I never said that you are...?" Maybe he didn't, but Sua said earlier that's how they see Till.
Enough. This conversation was a humiliation fest, nothing more.
“I won't go there again, I promise. And I didn't mean to make you feel bad about what I told your friends.” Ivan said, hand on his chest. Then, he extended the same hand towards Till. “We never got a chance to meet properly, and I don't want to have any enemies, especially if this enemy is the friend of my friends. Let's start again. I'm Ivan-”
“And I'm sick of you pretending to be the good guy.” he rejected his hand and turned away. “If you like your life, you will not tell the others that I helped you when I did not.”
And with that, he left. Now, not only with the impression, but with the actual evidence that Ivan was actually a rude little shit who tried to make Till look weaker.
𝙽𝙾𝚆 𝙿𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙸𝙽𝙶
ɴᴏ ᴄᴏᴏʟ ᴋɪᴅꜱ ᴢᴏɴᴇ
▶︎·|၊|။||||။၊|။|||။|||။ 2:30
⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻
Ivan didn't know what he did wrong. He wanted to appease Till for taking over his comfort zone earlier (even though no one had told him that room belonged to Till beforehand). So it seemed prudent to show Till in a good light in front of his friends.
For him, the equation was incredibly simple. During the three months when Till was gone and Ivan took his place, Till's friends had grown very fond of him. He'd even heard the words, "I hope you two get along! Till is a bit difficult, but he's a nut you can crack if you just let him."
Apparently, Till's shell only grew harder around him.
There was something exceptionally fascinating about him; you could see in his eyes that he wasn't just acting out of whim. Besides, he was an artist, right? Ivan didn't know much about them, or about art; he himself could probably only recognize the seven basic colors of the rainbow. But what he did know was that a person with a shallow inner self couldn't be an artist; there had to be something inside him...
And Ivan really wanted to know what color his soul was. He was a curious man! He liked dissecting people!
The equation was simple. Goal: Get closer to Till.
Problem: Till hated him.
Solution: ???
Ivan thought all night, accompanied by ramen, black coffee, and kawaii music, until a vile, toxic smoke appeared from an unidentified place in his room, and a bolt of evil genius struck him.
Another equation!
Till liked: Coolness. Badness. Troubles.
Till disliked: Nice people (Mizi was an exception, it seemed), being nice towards him, doing nice things, niceness in general;
That left him with a solution: ‘Act cool! Tease him! Show him that you are trouble, too!’
So the next day, he broke his previously established rule of never setting foot in Till's room again. What's more, he'd been sitting there since noon, sacrificing attendance at his last two classes - just to make sure Till would catch him red-handed.
The room had changed slightly in the few days he hadn't been there. There was new graffiti on the walls. One of them even covered a high-quality painting made by Till. Had he done that in anger? It was a bit sad... And terrifying, actually.
And the biggest change, the biggest graffiti: Opposite the door, there was written "COOL KIDS ZONE!!!"
Well, whatever. Ivan sat on the floor, the big graffiti behind him, doing nothing. Until he decided that waiting for Till, as exciting as it was, could also be extremely dull, so he started studying.
What he was waiting for happened at 4 o'clock.
Till stood in the doorway and noticed Ivan immediately. His face turned pale with anger, which - at least at first - he tried to hide.
"What are you doing here?"
Ivan felt his hands shake a little. He really didn't mean to be rude...
But the ends justify the means, right?
"Yeah, I decided that this room can fit us both. Don't you think?"
The downside was that Till didn't react like, 'Wow! I just realized that you're just as cool as me! You get full permission to be here from now on! And let's grab a snack later!' The upside was that he hadn't laughed at him yet.
Till twisted his face in disgust, as if he were looking at a Hazbin Hotel Alastor cosplayer on a bus to the countryside during school hours.
"Eh, no? This is a cool kid zone only." He pointed to the aforementioned graffiti.
Ivan swallowed hard. He wasn't sure if the words he was about to say would manage to escape his lips without a stutter.
"Then what are you doing here?" He smirked to hide his discomfort.
Breaking point counter: 1. Till's eyebrows furrowed in a way similar to the one he saw when they first met, and the slight pout on his face turned into a fight between the devil and the angel on his shoulders.
"Excuse me?" He stepped closer, Ivan prayed to God above that the boy didn't notice the way he flinched.
He had to be strong. Ivan raised his chin slightly as if challenging him to a duel.
"You were right. People do say you are a cool kid gone lame."
"No, they don't!"
Interesting. Ivan supposed Till would be impressed by his audacity, but the subject displays immediate defensive reaction.
"I've heard otherwise." Ivan's smirk widened. It was mostly because he had no idea what else to do with his face.
"From who?" Till's eyes narrowed.
He really tried to look relaxed, trust him. The problem was that he had absolutely no idea what a relaxed person was supposed to look like.
"People who think I'm cool." He shrugged, so nonchalant.
It sounded and looked like a preschool duel, B T dubs. Ivan himself felt embarrassed by what he was doing, so he was afraid of what Till would think of him.
"You're not cool." Well, that's exactly what he was afraid of! That he'd seriously think he wasn't cool! I mean, sure, he didn't think he was cool either, but he tried to act like it. Although his plan failed, because Till didn't seem to like him any more since the beginning of this conversation - quite the opposite, in fact - but it had its good sides. Till was showing off new traits that Ivan could study.
"I think... That you're lying. If you thought that I'm lame, you'd just laugh at me and bully me to no end, thinking that it'd make me cry and leave the room. But you look actually offended."
"You're pissing me off. I did nothing to you. Why are you still doing it?"
Because I want you to like me. But I see that my plan is not working the way I want it to work, so I will stop and try to get your attention in a different way - thought the smart Ivan.
hehehe let's make him madder - thought stupid Ivan.
Sadly, the stupid Ivan won.
"Because it’s funny."
"So you've been sitting in my room just to piss me off?"
Ivan's smile faltered for half a second.
"Your room?"
"Get your head out of your ass and look around! See the graffiti? The couch, my couch from my house that I brought here by breaking in the middle of the night, my couch! Everything here is mine! The walls, the floor, the ceiling, the window. Everything."
Ivan snorted softly, and an awkward silence fell. Till perhaps thought he was mocking his efforts in making this place his own, so Ivan glanced to the side, where - surprise - there was no window.
"Forget the window."
But Ivan knew he would never forget that window. It was because of that window that he and his current hyperfixation were talking now.
Back to the point. Till valued this place more than anything else, no? Ivan was really treading on thin ice. Maybe he could find out why he cared so much? I mean, he cared because he put a lot of effort into making it what it is now. But why did he put in all that effort in the first place?
"So this really is your little kingdom, huh?" And Till once again put on the same disgusted expression. This time, he wasn't looking at the lone Alastor cosplayer. This cosplayer had friends, Rosie was next to him, and together they sang "Don't You Forget," surrounded by people in poorly made fursuits.
"Don't call it that."
He started enjoying it for real now.
"Your cute, lovely kingdom?"
"Shut up."
A weak but honest laugh escaped his mouth. Till was cute when he was angry. His face would turn slightly red, the pout on his face made his cheeks want to be pinched, and his foot looked as if it was about to stomp on the ground like an offended 5-year-old.
He wondered if anyone else ever noticed that.
"Your cool kid kingdom?"
Till's jaw clenched. Ivan was starting to discover that there was in fact a limit to saying the word ‘cool’.
He decided to test it.
"Cool kid."
"Stop."
"Cool kid."
"I said stop!" He looked like he was ready to start throwing things.
Ivan felt a strange urge to continue, the whole interaction was giving him a dopamine rush he couldn't have imagined before, and he wondered how he had survived so many years without that feeling.
"Cool kid. Cool kid, cool kid, cool kid-"
Till finally stomped that foot. Adorable.
"Has anyone ever hit you so hard that your cerebrospinal fluid leaked out?"
But deep down, he felt that Till was also taking a sick pleasure in this. He could have beaten Ivan, done something brutal. He didn't know Till well, but he'd heard of the various fights he'd started and won. And even though Ivan was a bit bigger - if Till had tried, he probably would have won - Ivan had never won a fight. Perhaps because he'd never had one.
Was Till afraid of his potential strength? Perhaps he thought Ivan could defeat him? He found some satisfaction in that.
"This is such not a cool kid thing, to call yourself a cool kid, by the way." He decided to continue. Till didn't respond.
Instead, he stepped closer. Ivan's back straightened instinctively. Was he about to get punched in the face?
But now that he was close, he saw the desperation on his face. Till simply wanted Ivan to leave his place.
"You think you're cool now?" No, really no, that's the problem.
"Well, you're the one who said this is a cool kid zone."
"So?"
"So if I'm here-"
"You shouldn't be." Right. Let's ignore that fact and pretend Till never said anything.
"-then clearly I'm a cool kid."
Till stared at him as if Ivan had just announced that he was the reincarnation of Jesus Christ. Ivan's smile remained firmly in place; inside, however, his confidence had begun to collapse like a badly constructed building.
And he was afraid that Till would notice it too - After all, cool people didn't get nervous. They didn't have sweaty palms, and they definitely didn't spend hours practicing potential conversation scenarios and comebacks they could use during the real interaction.
Till's eyes narrowed, as if he was scanning him. He found nothing.
He walked towards the wall behind Ivan instead.
"Okay."
Ivan raised an eyebrow. Okay? What was okay? Was he going to stab his back?
Ivan watched him suspiciously, Till stopped beneath the graffiti.
COOL KIDS ZONE!!!
He looked at it, then, he looked at Ivan, true anger in his eyes.
"You want to be cool soooo bad, huh?"
Ivan's stomach dropped.
"...Sure." SURE? S U R E? Ivan felt like an idiot. It wasn't a question about whether he wanted ham on his Subway sandwich. Why did he say sure?
Fortunately, Till seemed to ignore how stupid his answer was.
"Fine." Then, Till pulled a spray can out of his pocket.
Ivan frowned. What was he doing?
He uncapped the can.
"If you're the cool kid-"
He added something to the graffiti. Then, he stepped back.
"There."
Ivan stared at the wall.
NO COOL KIDS ZONE!!!
Till pointed at the graffiti, then at Ivan.
"You're cool."
He pointed at himself.
"I'm not."
He pointed at the door.
"So get out."
Ivan opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
Till crossed his arms, looking unbearably satisfied with himself.
"What? Cat got your tongue, Dracula?"
Unbelievable. Truly unbelievable. He was sad that he wasn't wearing any meta glasses to record everything and watch it every day first thing after waking up, and last thing before going to sleep.
Despite himself, a tiny smile crept onto his face.
He was really ready for Till to yell at him, hit him, choke him from behind, attack him with a pocket knife, carve "LAME KID" on his skin, take a picture and post it on his social media; Not him willingly give up the title of "cool kid" just to keep this stupid little room to himself!
And if Till wasn't the most fascinating person he'd ever met, he couldn't imagine who was.
Till looked at him expectantly and nervously. Partly as if he expected applause for his genius, and partly as if he feared judgment, saying that what he'd done wasn't as amazing, nonchalant, and badass as he'd thought.
Spoiler: It was. So much so that Ivan ran out of words, his brain emitted a Windows error sound, and he didn't even recognize the moment he stood up and walked toward the door, absolutely flabbergasted.
When leaving, he simply shouted,
"Not a cool kid!" as a final attempt at teasing.
In response, he received the sound of a spray can reverberating off the - now closed behind him - door.
Till was the most amazing, most interesting person he'd ever met, and he was already excited to dream up imaginary scenarios involving him before bed.
𝙽𝙾𝚆 𝙿𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙸𝙽𝙶
ɴᴏ ᴄᴏᴏʟ ᴋɪᴅꜱ ᴢᴏɴᴇ
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