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vse-kar-vem · 2 months ago

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Somewhere in the multiverse 2

Summary: In another world, few months after Bojan attempts his solo career, Kris messages him and plays "Gola", persuading him to come back to the band. Not in this one, though.

In this one, Bojan leaves and Kris takes his place as the lead singer, trying to keep the broken pieces of both the band and his heart long enough for them to repair. So when Bojan comes back to Slovenia 5 years later, Kris is more than reluctant to hear him out. However, when circumstances force them to work together again and Kris begins to see cracks in Bojan's seemingly perfect foundation, he has to make a choice. Hear Bojan out and unpack what went down five years ago, or potentially lose him again, this time for good.

Pairings: Bojan Cvjetićanin/Kris Guštin

Word Count: 2517

Warnings: There is one scene where a character is presumed to be drunk, so that's the only TW I can think of for this one. If I missed any, feel free to tell me.

Notes: I should have probably mentioned this in chapter 1, but I forgot so. This timeline is wack and likely makes very little sense if you start analyzing it, but we are here for the vibes, okay? Okay?? Good. *shoves plot holes into the corner* ANYWAY, here it is

AO3 link

July 2022.

Perhaps in another world, Kris sent the message, asking Bojan to meet him. He played Gola for him and Bojan came back to the band, repairing what Kris thought was broken beyond repair.

But not in this one.

In this one, Kris was finishing up his makeup and doing his best to keep breathing deeply. They were about to perform at the EXIT festival. No matter how many times they have done this, Kris couldn’t help but feel nervous. It wasn’t just about singing, it was about everything. He had to sustain the majority of the attention of the audience, to keep their interest, to charm them. All while singing and playing.

He closed his eyes for a moment, taking another deep breath, then exhaling.

“You doing okay?”

When he opened his eyes, he saw Jure behind him, through the mirror. For someone who joined them only about a year prior, he really blended in effortlessly into their group. Then again, Nace seemed to be blending in seamlessly too, after only about a month with them, too. Kris supposed they chose their new bandmates right. He gave Jure a small smile.

“Just pre-performance nerves. I’ll be fine.”

Jure pushed himself from the doorway and walked over to Kris, turning him around. He smiled.

“You will. And you do look great. You are only missing those high boots. Because not like you are taller than all of us anyway.”

Kris snorted. He liked adding a bit extra height when he was on stage. It was true he already towered over most people, but it made him feel more confident. Like he could raise above all the stress and pressure at a certain height.

“The fans don't mind it,” Kris said with a smirk, moving past Jure and changing into his shoes.

“Ah yes, because so many people mind when attractive men tower over them,” Jure teased.

Kris laughed, trying not to think of another reason he needed to feel extra tall today. The reason that waited to perform right after them.

Bojan.

Kris really thought that after Bojan went to London, he wouldn't be coming back. It was everything he wanted. To get out of Slovenia, to build his solo career.

Yet, he came back a few months ago. Since then, Kris felt as if the other singer was everywhere he turned. Haunting him.

Including now. Performing at the EXIT festival, right after them. Whoever set that up surely had a sense of humor.

He zipped up his boots and stood up, so they went to join the others.

Jan and Nace were waiting for them to be called on stage. It seemed even Nace, who usually had his energy always grounded, was feeling the nerves and excitement today. Jan looked more awake and alert than he did most of the time, practically matching Jure’ constant, chaotic energy.

Something about this felt…different. Kris couldn’t put a finger on it, but it felt like the silence before the storm. Like the air was electrified.

“Ready?” Jan mouthed silently at Kris.

Kris nodded, giving him thumbs up. Just then, the announcement cut through their moment.

“And now, we are proud to welcome Joker Out!”

Kris plastered a wide smile on his face and walked out on the stage with the others, greeted by the clapping and screaming of the audience.

It was always a bit of a shock, being faced with so many people at once. Yet, that shock usually overrode the lingering anxiety, pushing it at the back of Kris mind. He let their excitement wash over him as he approached the mic.

“Hello Novi Sad! Are you ready for some shagadelic rock'n'roll?”

Then they started, and Kris lost himself into the familiar notes, playing and singing and dancing, letting the music guide him.

It wasn't until they reached the last song they had to perform that Kris came back to himself a bit. Remembered one petty thing he decided upon once they found out Bojan would perform right after them.

He caught his breath as Jan played the last notes of the song before speaking into the mic.

“We have one last song for you. This is a new one that we haven't performed yet. It's about someone who we don't talk about anymore, but we'll make an exception for you guys today, yes?”

The crowd gave a confirming cheer and Kris laughed, and then the melody began.

“Končno te vidim spet

Hitro mine čas

Spremenu sem pogled na svet

Ti pa barvo las

Kaj te nese v Ljubljano

Zdaj, ko vse cveti

Nazadnje si sedela z mano

Ko bil sem brez moči”

Despite the fact that bits and pieces of lyrics were inspired by Kris’ last girlfriend, he struggled with finishing it. Until Bojan came back from London, which Martin very casually dropped in their conversation.

Two days later, Kris wrote the rest of the lyrics. He tried not to think too hard about that. A part of him did hope Bojan would realize it was about him. That this was Kris’ way of calling him out. Another part of him didn't even want Bojan to have the satisfaction of knowing he inspired any reaction at all from him.

“Ne govoriva več o tem

Ne govoriva več o tem

A ne vidiš da

Razpadam ker ne vem.”

Kris finished singing the last verse and then the music slowly faded out. They were sent off the stage with applause.

They mingled with the rest of the crowd of people who finished their performance, hugging and high fiving each other. All that anxiety was spent, and Kris was left with only a pleasant buzzing of satisfaction underneath his skin. Later, it would set into exhaustion, but he had some time before the adrenaline wore off.

Jan slung his arm over his shoulders, playfully bumping his head against Kris’.

“You were amazing out there,” he said, before dropping his voice into a whisper, “and nice way to shade Bojan before that last song, too.”

Kris felt heat rising to his cheeks.

“The song is about Ana, not Bojan. You know that.”

Jan raised his eyebrow.

“Do you?”

Before Kris could figure out how to even begin to answer that, Bojan was greeted to the stage, and Kris’ eyes, along with everyone else's, were drawn to him.

As much as Kris wanted to deny it, as much as he didn’t want to notice it, Bojan looked good. He wore a sleeveless shirt with some logo he couldn’t read from where he was standing. It exposed his muscular arms and Kris did his best not to let his eyes linger on them. He also wore black jeans that hugged his legs and-

“Dobar dan Novi Sade! Jesmo li spremni za još dobre muzike?”*

Bojan had an easy smile on his face as the crowd cheered for him. Kris’ heart squeezed. He didn’t even notice he tensed until Jan snorted and nudged him again.

“Completely indifferent to Bojan, are we?”

Kris glared at him and shrugged his arm off his shoulders. He didn’t need Jan to rub the salt in the wound even more.

“Ne čujem vas dobro!”

Kris’ attention was dragged back to Bojan as he goaded the crowd into an even louder cheer. Kris scoffed. Show off. But then he began to sing and Kris’ annoyance melted away. Mostly because he felt utterly caught and captivated, just like the rest of the audience.

Bojan always had that effect. From the very first time Kris saw him perform with Apokalipsa, he had the ability to grab the attention of others and hold it. Like a siren, dragging you underwater with only the power of his voice.

“A sada, jedna pesma za sve s kojima je neko raskinuo putem poruke.”

Kris understood Serbian well enough to roll his eyes. A song for everyone who got broken up with via text? Really?

“Hodam opet njenom ulicom

Brutalno se vuče otkad nisam više s njom

Stanem ispod njenog prozora

Jedna njena senka da me spasi očaja”

Kris didn’t feel like laughing or rolling his eyes anymore. Bojan’s voice vibrated with raw emotion, his body twisting with the chords, as if he was actually hurting from the words sung. Like he felt the heartbreak anew.

“Nisam ni zaslužio da završimo uživo

Jedna poruka i via amore

Snegovi u avgustu sad po meni padaju

Dok tebe sunce greje, mi amore”

It was like the audience held its breath. Bojan kept singing and then-

“Kažu vreme leči rane sve

Al' ne kažu koliko da se odviknem od nje”

Bojan looked directly at him. It shouldn’t have been possible to do so by accident. Not from where Kris was standing. Yet those dark eyes found him, pinning him in place. Everything else seemed to have faded in the background, like Bojan was singing to him alone.

Godina je prošla, još vraća se u san

Vrti kao film sećanje na onaj dan”

His gaze shifted back to the audience, releasing Kris as suddenly as suddenly as he gripped him. Kris felt like he could breathe again, but his heart still beat way too fast.

“Nisam ni zaslužio da završimo uživo

Jedna poruka i via more

Snegovi u avgustu još po meni padaju

Dok te neko drugi greje, mi amore”

Bojan finished the song, and Kris felt lightheaded, even as he moved into the next one. Like for a moment, he was drawn back into the Sun’s shining orbit, pulled by its gravity. And then let go again, having to remind himself he had a gravity of his own now.

Kris couldn’t stand to be there for a second longer.

“I am going for a smoke,” he told Jan quickly, grabbing his bag.

“Kris-” Jan tried to stop him with a frown, but Kris was already shaking his head.

“See you later!”

He practically ran away from their spot next to the stage. He walked until the crowd of people thinned out. He ducked his head, hoping no one would recognize him, too focused on the stage to look at him too closely.

He ducked behind one of the tents, where no one could see him. He lit up a cigarette and willed himself to relax. Bojan being here instead of London didn't change anything. He could be across the street or halfway across the world and it would not make them any closer or farther in Kris’ mind.

Those doors had to stay firmly closed.

Kris had too many other things on his plate. Like their upcoming gigs and interviews. He also needed to finish that song they wanted to use to sign up for EMA later this year. He had most of the lyrics and notes in his head, he just needed to put them together. Make them work together.

He finished his cigarette and was about to throw it away, when someone else stumbled into his little space. Bojan took in a short, muscular form of the stranger and-no.

“Bojan?” He asked, before he could stop himself.

Bojan snapped his head up, as if startled by his presence. His eyes seemed a bit glass and unfocused. Had he been drinking?

“Kris? What are you doing here?”

Kris rolled his eyes.

“Smoking, obviously. What are you doing here? I was here first.”

“Didn’t realize this was your private property.”

Kris was about to give another scalding remark, but then Bojan wobbled dangerously on his feet. On instinct, Kris reached out to steady him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you drunk?”

Bojan laughed, but it sounded humorless.

“Something like that.”

Kris glared, resisting the urge to push him to the ground himself. What kind of idiot gets drunk before performing? Did Bojan truly get into the bad habits so thoroughly in the past five years?

“Can you even stand on your own?”

Bojan scowled, pushing Kris’ hand away.

“Of course I can. Don’t be ridiculous.”

Still, Kris noticed a slight tremor in his hands. He was torn between anger and pity. What the hell happened to you?, he wanted to ask. But he bit his tongue. Instead, he became suspicious again.

“What are you doing here? Did you follow me?”

“Oh please,” Bojan said, reaching for a pack of cigarettes of his own, “not everything is about you.”

Kris did not flinch. In fact, he felt as if ice spread through him, freezing all his emotions.

“Funny hearing that from you. You sure you aren’t projecting?”

Bojan lit up his cigarette and took a drag before refocusing on him. Kris ignored the way heat zinged through his at that. Focus, he chastised himself.

“It's a bit difficult to project myself that high, I think. Especially with those heels of yours. How is the weather up there, by the way?”

“For someone who is supposed to think of original words for a living, you have the most unoriginal jokes.”

Bojan grinned.

“And you are above all the height jokes, huh, Krisko?”

“Don’t call me that,” Kris snapped.

He had no right to use his nickname. He lost that privilege when he up and left the band with barely any consideration.

Something akin to hurt flashed over Bojan's face before settling back into his cocky mask. If it was a mask at all.

“Oh, I am sorry, are you too good for that now, Mr. New lead singer?”

“If you have a problem with me being a lead singer, then you shouldn’t have fucking left!” He hissed.

Bojan flinched, but Kris was done. He turned to leave, but Bojan grabbed his wrist.

“Wait! I didn’t mean it like that, I’m sor-”

That was what made Kris finally snap.He pushed Bojan backwards, until his back collided with a tree and he gasped. From pain? Or surprised? Kris couldn’t tell. He didn’t care.

“You are sorry? Is that what you wanted to say? For what? Leaving? For being a fucking asshole just now? For which part exactly, Bojan?”

Bojan swallowed, looking up at him and-Why did this feel so familiar?

“You are right. Shit-I don’t know why I said that. I am sorry. Please, let me explain?”

Kris felt taken aback. How long did he wish to hear Bojan say that? Imagine it so many times, in all the different scenarios? Yet, now, presented with Bojan’s pleading face, with Kris’ own arm pinning him across the chest he couldn’t stand the thought of it. Panic rose up in his throat and he stepped back, loosening his hold on Bojan.

“After five years? You can keep your explanation to yourself. I don’t care.”

Bojan’s face was pale, and Kris tried not to let himself fall for it.

“So, that’s it? You’ll just never let me explain? Do you hate me that much?”

Kris made himself stand his ground. He looked over at the distance and not at Bojan. He couldn’t.

“No. I just don’t care.”

He heard a sharp intake of breath, but he didn’t look. He just turned around and started walking. This time, Bojan didn’t try to stop him. Kris told himself that was for the best.

#YIPPIIEE #bokris

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