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The lights are bright, the digital backdrop stings her eyes, and the bass is blasting from the large speakers so loudly, it feels like she’s being shocked by a weirdly functioning defibrillator.
“…M.I.A. I’mma, I’mma go-“
Lara walks towards the irritatingly blinding lights- swaying her hips just right before she goes and faces the crowd.
For a minute, her confidence wavers due to confusion.
The lights- the stupid lights- are playing tricks on her.
And for a moment, a sweet moment, it seems that the curls in front of her are the right ones.
The ones she’s always admired during any occasion, the ones she’s dreamt of running her fingers through- not just for a gag on stage.
The roar of the crowd fades away, the clicking of the metronome goes with it, and all that occupies her brain is a singular question:
‘Why is Manon in front of me?’
But Manon isn’t in front of her. Hell, Lara’d be lucky if she was in front of her. On the same stage as her.
Then it all comes rushing back. The thousands of people in front of them, the fact that the person asking Coachella where she’s gonna go has a different voice.
Manon isn’t here.
The day the ‘hiatus’ was announced, everyone was furious.
For themselves- the members, her sisters, the Eyekons (the normal ones)- their loyal fanbase that motivated them to keep going.
For all the young girls that Manon inspired, the ones that were able to see themselves in her.
For everything they stood for- for what they believed in.
But, most of all- and definitely most importantly- for Manon.
For the cruel mistreatment that she’s been through. For the unfairness of the whole situation.
The members were losing their sister, the fans were losing Manon’s love, care and appreciation,
Lara was losing the one she’s loved for months. Maybe years, she isn’t quite sure yet.
Manon was losing milestones, time doing what she enjoyed- her dream.
Her happiness was just torn away from her.
And for what? Fame? Speculation? The paparazzi and general public tearing their image apart like savages for their own enjoyment?
The company couldn’t even give them, the members, a proper reason why- let alone the world.
Lara knows nothing.
Nothing about why they’re treating Manon like this.
Nothing about why people online have a combined IQ of, like, 6.
Nothing about what she feels for Manon exactly, nor how long it’s been.
All she knows is that it hurts. It hurts badly, and she wants Manon back.
“I miss her.” Lara mumbled.
Right now she was leaning against Megan’s side, in her parents’ home in L.A.
It’s been a week since the hiatus was announced, and the internet has been in flames.
Well, nothing new there.
She’s been wanting to go offline, to block out the noise- but she can’t help but search for Manon’s name.
Not to see what’s being said about her, not at all.
She fears if she read any more stupid comments, she might lash out herself.
And what good does that do anyone?
No. She searches for Manon’s name to watch her past performances. To see that fire in her eyes when she’s on stage, doing what she loves, doing what she does best.
She searches up her name to find past moments with her, where they cackled and giggled and didn’t have a care in the world as long as they had each other. To hear that ridiculously adorable, stupid laugh.
“Me too, Larz. We all do.” Megan murmured, rubbing her hand up and down Lara’s forearm comfortingly.
Lara can tell something else is on her mind, though.
And making sure her best friend is okay? That’s something she has control of. Being a good friend is something that the public, the magazines, the evil, multi-million dollar company can’t strip away from her.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I mean- it just sucks, you know? Well, obviously-“
“Not about Manon. In general.”
“I-“
Megan goes quiet for a bit, debating.
“It’s kinda shitty to feel bad about this when our sister is literally being excluded…”
“It’s shitty to not check up on you. You don’t need to suppress your other feelings because of Hybe and Geffen. They don’t get to do that.” Lara says gently, sitting up to look Megan in the eyes.
“I just-“ Megan sighed, fiddling with her hands, “It’s… it’s Yoonchae. She- I think-“
Megan looks up at her earnestly.
“I think I’m in love her.”
Lara doesn’t really feel shocked, but she stays quiet and listens.
“And I think- I think she might love me too. Or at least, like. Hopefully.” she chuckles dryly.
“But she’s been so- I don’t know.” Megan gestures with her hands, emphasising her frustration, “When the cameras are around, she’s touchy and giggly and, well, herself.”
Lara nods, putting her hand over Megan’s.
“And I’m not saying she’s acting for fan service! That’s how she is with me. Usually.”
Megan rambles on, but Lara’s mind sort of… drifts.
“But when we’re alone- no videos, no people, just… us, she’s more… distant. She doesn’t immediately go to me anymore, you know? She hesitates and I just-“
Megan huffs out an exhale, running a hand through her hair.
“I don’t know.”
She stares down at her shorts, picking at a loose thread, when she finally registers it.
The warmth of Lara’s hand on hers, the way her thumb is doing the thing.
“Megs?”
“Yeah?” she turns towards Lara fully now.
“Kiss me.”
She doesn’t know where it came from, it just happened.
Megan’s breath stutters, voice wavers, and Lara feels triumph- just for a moment- but,
The hair underneath her grasp isn’t the right texture. The skin she’s licking is too light. The voice she’s hearing is a different tone than it’s supposed to be.
And kneeling there now, on the solid stage floor- her forehead pressed against Megan’s, panting heavily-
She doesn’t have time to fully rediscover the heartbreak.
To relive pain she’s felt a thousand- maybe- definitely more- times before comes bubbling back up; whenever her childish, filthy mind betrays her during important, serious moments, and there’s no one to turn to. Whenever she wants to hold someone’s hand for stability, reassurance, and she isn’t there.
All of it comes rushing back, for the millionth- maybe- definitely more- time, and it can’t even settle in before-
‘Introduction to Gnarly. 15, 14, 13-‘
“What?” Megan splutters out, completely taken aback.
“Stress relief.” Lara shrugs, as if they both don’t know what she means.
To forget.
She wants to forget.
Megan stares at her in disbelief, before her eyes lower.
She shrugs back, grabbing the back of Lara’s neck and pulling her in.
“I LOVE YOU!”
“WE DID IT Y’ALL!”
Lara screams, grins, shrieks and jumps with excitement-
She just performed at Coachella.
Coachella.
Their biggest goal. Their biggest dream.
Her biggest dream.
She instinctively turns, searching for her.
“Ma-“ she stops.
No one heard her. Luckily.
That time wasn’t the last.
They keep the arrangement.
It’s just an unspoken agreement. They never ask about it, never acknowledge it- they don’t even text about it.
It just happens. They just know.
If a day was particularly hard- whether practice was more gruelling than usual because people keep veering off to the ‘wrong’ spots, or whether they accidentally see things online that they shouldn’t have to deal with at 20 years old.
And whenever one of the two accidentally moan out the wrong name, they pretend like it never happened.
At least they get to choose what’s being erased- to control the narrative, what’s being forcefully forgotten- in this instance.
The after party is fun. Could’ve- would’ve been the most fun party she’s been to in her entire life.
She isn’t feeling it tonight, though.
So, with a heavy heart, she (half reluctantly) turns in early for the night.
The trailer door opens 15 minutes after she arrives.
She already knows who it is.
“Meg-“
“I know.”
She walks over to Lara, and crashes her lips onto hers-
and the cycle continues.
For as long as Manon’s gone, and as long as Yoonchae is avoidant.