Chapter Text
It's.. been a week, since Andrew left, and guess what? It's New Years Eve. Wow, Ivan should, probably make a "New Years Resolution" or something like that.
Damn it.
...
Andrew, Andrew, Andrew, Andrew, Andrew, Andrew, oh, Andre-
"You nauseate me. I can't even sleep or eat well." Ivan whispers under his breath, barely audible.
"You... you should've not left. I could've still fixed everything, the game, us."
He whispers again.
"I need to make a name for myself, with or without Andrew, somehow."
His apartment is a damn mess. Glass bottles everywhere, his couch is, flipped upside-down, wow, was Ivan really that strong?
He got up from the floor, scrambling to his feet, walking slowly towards the hallway to his bedroom.
His bedroom is, oddly organised. Out of all the chaos is happening he oddly keeps his bedroom clean. He flops on to his bed, sighing. Staring into nothingness, he blurts out annoyed mutters about the muffled fireworks through the concrete walls, then the thought of Andrew bubbles up,
"Fuck-"
Ivan shifts through his bed, tossing and turning until he's had enough.
- - - - - -
Ivan gets up from his bed, surrounded by nothing but ashes, then there's the Tumour-
The Tumour he's feared so much, the Tumour he's avoided, kept at the back of his mind for way too long.
"Hey, there, Friend." The Tumor's voice was glitched out, vaguely sounding like a mix of Ivan himself and his so-called loved ones.
"You look a bit out of it." It says, kind of concerned. "Nothing good happening, eh?" It blurts out in the wrong tone.
"Go piss off", what he could've only tell The Tumour in a manner of pure annoyance. But he couldn't. He really couldn't because he probably needed help from that thing.
Ivan turns away, "Look, I think I need your help, I just need to leave a legacy, but I think you already knew that already." Ivan mutters out loud.
"Oh, my." The Tumour replies, "You really couldn't let go of that thought of leaving a legacy, wouldn't you?" It taunted his request.
Ivan tries his best to keep himself quiet.
"How pathetic. You can't even take care of yourself." It gets closer, almost looking like a god looming over a sinner.
"My only suggestion? Turn back, leave this sick obsession behind." The Tumor recoils away from Ivan.
"And what if I don't?" Ivan asks.
"...You really don't listen, huh? Your choice then."
- - - - - - -
Ivan wakes uncomfortable. He has to apologise although Andrew blocked most of his accounts, or even try to look for him, no matter how far he is.
"Where's my phone..?" He groaned his mind thick with sleep, but he gets up and checks. It wasn't there beside him not at his bedside either, ew, it's maybe in the mess of his living room.
He gets up from his bed, yawning whilst stretching, then walks outside the room to the hallway.
The fireworks are still full of live, loud and never-ending.
Ivan walks lazily towards his living room, looking for his phone, until he steps on something square-ish.
His phone is slightly cracked, it still works, of course. He dials Andrew's number,
Two rings and a click, Andrew decided to reply.
"Oh, Ivan, I know it's you- didn't I tell you to leave me alone?" Andrew's voice echoed through the room.
"Look, Andrew. I-I know but, please," Ivan tries to explain, "Please what?" Andrew cuts him off.
"S-stay and listen to me for a while-
I'm sorry, and I know I did some bad things to you and I, I can't think straight, I can't eat and sleep properly-" Ivan's voice was shaky.
No reply, he's listening.
"Please, please come back, I, god.. I think I can still fix things, or not, but please, I just, I really just want to apologise, it- it's ok if you don't forgive me, I just want to let out my feelings- I-" He keeps on stuttering. Atleast Andrew is listening carefully.
"I'm just sorry and I love you so much, I know you hate me, but..
Please, please, don't forget to try talking to me, Andrew." Ivan says, nearly on the verge of tears.
Silence. Andrew doesn't say anything. Then-
"I'm sure I'm not going to forget you. But, goodbye, Ivan, don't message or call me ever again after this. I don't want to see you ever again, uhm, got it?" Andrew's voice is full of regret, and then he hangs up the call.
Ivan sobs, and tears come out his eyes, "I fucking failed, I can't- Can't even, say everything I want to say to him." Ivan sobs again, laying on the floor, curled up into a ball.
"Andrew... Andrew... please, I need you." Ivan whispers breathless. Pathetic, so pathetic.
"I don't want to end up like my father. He left nothing behind, just a charred corpse in a church." He whimpered. He rolls around, trying to get up.
...
"Man up." His father's voice echoed.
"I should make up a name for myself, differently, without Andrew, right." Ivan scrambles up, walking to his kitchen.
He turns the stove on. That'll start a gas fire soon after. Ivan knows that, he's a smart guy, anyway, but all of that just for a legacy?-
No, no, it's right, he needs to be known by the world, he will not going to end up like his father. 18 minutes before the New Year. Wooh, he should do this quick.
Ivan walks to the bathroom, and there's a razor waiting for skin to cut through. He grabs it, then admires it for a few seconds, and -
"Ah-!" He yelps. It's bleeding, it feels nice but it's surprising. Another, and, another, and another, and more blood seep out his arm. Ivan feels like crying, the tears are nearly coming out of his eyes and he might bawl out loud.
After about 5 hellish minutes, he stops and breathes for abit.
His newly cut arm feels numb but grabs the blade and cuts the other without ease. Again, again, and again, it hurts and it feels a little too good than he thought it would hurt.
So much blood.
It's dripping to the pearly white tiled floor, staining it. Luckily, there was a towel for his arms, he grabs it, and then lightly rubs the cuts, he doesn't want to die from bleeding. After, he walks out, not noticing his tears and sobs.
"Haha- I guess this is the only way." Ivan laughed without any noise, he was crying anyway.
He goes outside, towards the roof access.
He hesitates, but his hand opens the door anyway.
There's a flight of stairs, waiting for him to get up. He steps up, whilst wiping his tears, although, he might just cry again before he jumps.
He finally arrived up stairs. Fireworks are still booming, whooping of celebrants from below, they're counting down the last few minutes.
Ivan turns to the arranged chairs, he bursts out crying. Sobs, hiccups and cries for Andrew.
Andrew, Andrew, Andrew, Andrew.
Was always his priorities. Andrew...
He turns away from the chairs, looking to the edge, "This.. is the end? Wow, haha, I... I'm sorry, Andrew for everything hurtful, painful, traumatising things I did to you." He walks towards the edge. He then looks down.
"5!" The celebrants yell.
Ivan turns. He's hesitating.
"4!"
He isn't moving yet.
"3!"
He looks around.
"2!"
Then down.
"1! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!" They cheer.
Then Ivan jumps.