last encore

chapter 1: how did we get here?

A/N: Slanted=thoughts
—

"Holy shit leave me alone!"

Blake couldn't recall the last time she raised her voice at Shua, to be fair she couldn't recall the last time she even had Shua standing right in front of her.

A few eyes turn toward the shout, but they don't linger. A fight outside a club happens all the time, though a fight between two rowdy foreigners is slightly more interesting. The eyes turn back, more than 3 pairs this time.

Shua's eyes glaze over, her brows scrunch as she glares down at the maroon haired girl still sitting on the dirty concrete step of the club exit. Blake narrows her eyes at her while Shua's own get glossier by the second.

"Hah! Alright go ahead. Turn on the waterworks, I dont give a fuck." Blake scoffs at the expression on the noirette's face and chooses to eye the parking lot instead.

"What are you talking about?" Shua cries out, looking as if she didn't expect this to turn into an argument. The small boxy silver is cold in her palm—it hasn't been used, or it was about to, until she showed up.

"You always think you can get what you want just by crying and having a pretty face."

The air felt colder than it should on an august night, and the atmosphere not nearly as loud as it should be to distract from whatever mess they just created.

"Shiii.. yuri..?" A man—standing in the front of the crowd with his face slightly covered by a phone and cap—comments in english (too), earning a punch to the arm from the man beside him.

Shua isn't sure if she's supposed to be offended or flattered by Blake's remark, but a look to her staid expression seems to answer the question.

In the past, they would've roared in laughter. Shua would've teased her, playing into the flirty bit they had going on. Luz would've fueled the fire, Arnoud would be chuckling, Yan would simply grin, while Blake would try to suppress her own.

A pause, confusion flashes over Shua's face before slowly realizing what the former was getting at. Ire came first at the accusation. She tries to stop the tears from falling but pure will seems to not be enough.

"That's not what this is! Ugh what the fuck is your problem?!" Shua yelled weakly, voice shaky and one hand covering the lower half of her face.

By this point, the few nosy bystanders had multiplied. A modest crowd of about 10 is watching with both curiosity and contempt at the heartrending scene before them.

"You! Stop getting all up in my business!" Blake pushes herself off the concrete, reaches out and snatches the lighter back. She pockets it along with her pack of Red, the cig previously forgotten in between her fingers had already gotten tucked back into its box.

Now they stood face to face, nearly eye level.

It's always been like this between them, fiery, explosive, or as their manager liked to call them; a 'PR disaster'. They were the two that spent the longest getting PR training; Blake gets sent back every once in a while due to her lack of restraint of getting into fights on and offline. Meanwhile Shua due to her many scandals, between switching men every couple weeks and the frequency of her meltdowns, she's nearly always the topic of conversation. The classes helped, there was noticeable improvement in both women, though that improvement seems to have been tossed out the window at present.

"It's called being a friend!! Or do you not know what that's like?!"

The retort fell like a stone in water, like a baseball through a neighbor's window, or, or, I dont know actually, I'm bad at sayings. OH. The retort felt like a slap to the face (?). It sounded too much like the truth for Shua to ever take it back.

"Ooooh.." Someone—Blake is too preoccupied to care for a look—whistles lowly at the dig.

They stood there for a while, still, facing each other. The ruckus from inside the club barely bothers them compared to the complicated situation currently ensuing.

"That's low, Shua. I know this is like, your thing, but still I never expected you to use it on me too." Whatever rage Blake once felt seemed to disperse. She scoffs as she picks up a black backpack from the ground and pulls out a white helmet.

Blake strides off into the direction of the parking lot. She didn't look back once before riding off on a white sportbike.

The sound of her engine eventually fades. Shua now sat on the concrete step, long black hair fell like curtains, both hands covering her face. The crowd had scattered back to wherever they came from, all that's left is a man.

He strolls over to where Shua is sitting, slow continuous steps, and stops right in front of her. When she heard the footsteps come closer and realized there is a man looking down at her, she nearly jumps.

"Shua!" An unmistakable male voice greets ecstaticly.

Who the fuck...? Shua's fingers grip at her knees, her body freezing in place. She could feel her heart thumping hard against her chest. It's well past 11 pm and she's alone—Arnoud excused himself at around 10 once he got a call from his wife, meanwhile Yan decided to go back to the hotel after Shua asked her for company when she confronts Blake (which she evidently objected)—outside a random club in Shanghai without a ride.
Ugh I should've followed Blake.

The man didn't move, she could only hear the rapid tip-tapping of his fingers typing.
What the hellll?! Who is this? A one night stand?!

Reluctantly, Shua slowly lifts her head to get a glimpse of the stranger. He wore a University of South Carolina cap, his umber hair slightly peeks out from under it. Shua doesn't recognize his face.

"OMG can I get a picture??" He asks, animatedly. The man already had his camera app open, clearly expecting a yes.

Shua lets out a sigh of relief. He seems...harmless, though she's reluctant to take a picture with him for reasons relating to her post-cry appearance.

"Um, I'm sorry.. I can't right now.." She rejects awkwardly, attempting to block his view of her swollen eyes.

The man stared at her for a few seconds before looking like something just clicked in his mind. He took liberty of the empty space beside her and sits down. She flinches.

"Are you okay?" He asks.

Shua couldn't believe it. It's been weeks since anyone had asked her that—excluding some worried fans on the internet. Its such a simple question that her friends and family failed to ask, but this stranger did, and he asked genuinely, she could tell from the shift in his gaze.

"I'm Jae by the way."