"Don't get up! You're still recovering!"
Before Cyrus can even process his surroundings, a hulking figure immediately barges into his room and effectively manhandles him onto the bed.
"The fuck? How is it you again?"
"Sorry, I can't have you up and about like that. You need rest." the figure, or rather Brendan, replies sheepishly as he hands Cyrus a cup of honey lemon tea.
"That's what everyone says," Cyrus scowls, though grateful for the hot drink, "But rest isn't going to get Eli back. I need—"
"What you need now is rest. Trust me." Brendan says, "I know you have so many questions about everything and...I don't have all of them, but might have some."
"Then—"
"I won't tell you until you rest...and promise me."
"Fine." Cyrus reluctantly agrees. As he sips on his tea, he seizes the opportunity to take in his surroundings. He's in a room about half the size of his dance studio, dominated by a light blue color scheme and (surprisingly) filled with cutesy bunny stuff toys like Kuronomnoms. He's even sandwiched between two life-sized blue Kuronomnoms with sapphire tiaras. On the walls are a collection of pictures of trainees he both recognized and never seen the faces of, each of them beaming at the camera. The photos seem to be dated by year, with some of them another '2036' and others under '2034' and '2035,' some even under '2032' and '2033'.
However, it's the photos under '2037' that catch his eye.
In a few photos, Brendan, Eli, him are all looking at the camera, with Brendan being his usual cheerful self, Eli giving one of his awkward smiles while Cyrus looks like he'd rather die than be forced to smile for another picture. Golden.
In another photo, Brendan and Eli held their phones to the camera to show the results of some sudoku game they're playing.
There's also one photo of Cyrus dancing to the original Spring With You theme song, in which he had to perform their iconic hand-heart symbol.
All of those were towards the beginning of the year though.
As he made his way down to the more recent photos, he notices there is an increasing frequency of individual photos of Eli singing and him dancing. Laughing. Crying. Just...having fun.
"Cyrus? You..." Brendan trails off.
"I'm what?"
"Nothing."
They steep in their shared nostalgia, reminiscing in the years of memories held by the photos. For the first time since he discovered Eli's body in the snow, silence didn't feel lonely.
It feels warm.
Warm with Eli's laughs and hugs.
"I'm sorry I didn't immediately reach out after Eli passed away," Brendan breaks the silence, "I figured you needed some time alone to process everything."
"...You're right. 'Sides, your intentions are good, you shouldn't apologize for that. I'm still a angry, bitter and confused wreck."
"Cyrus, give yourself time to grief. Your best friend just died, in such an unnatural way too."
"No, I'm the reason he died. I left him alone on his birthday because I can't hold my fucking temper for two minutes." Cyrus digs his fingernails into his palm, "I have to find out the reason no matter what."
"And what if the reason is something that you can't accept?"
—
For the first time in centuries, Cyrus is at the promenade. If there's one advantage to being forced to go on break, it's this.
Despite the beautiful seaview, his mind is galaxies away.
"You're better off not knowing why Eli died. To be honest, I don't think he'd want you to know the events leading to his death."
"Why would you think that?" Cyrus frowned.
"If he wanted you to know, he wouldn't have died in the first place."
Once again, rooted in a logic Cyrus cannot ignore.
"To be clear," Brendan continued, "I don't know about the specific circumstances leading to his death. I just deduced based on what I know about him that that would be his driving motivation."
Brendan pointed a finger at Cyrus.
"And you are a core part of his motivation in life. Don't even try to deny it."
"Right. Then what do you think I should do?"
There was a pause.
"Are you asking me what Eli would want you to do, or what I want you to do?"
"...Both." Cyrus said.
"Well, what Eli would want you to do is simple. It's the same as always—he'd want you to become an idol, the best you can be, without his death to hold you back."
"Then, what about you?"
As Cyrus continues his aimless stroll, he can't help but notice how normal is everything. Kids chasing each other, a dad yelling at his kid to slow down, an elderly couple chatting with each other by the bench. Peace. Away from all the hectic schedules, all the smug alphas and cowardly opportunists.
Then the thought strikes him, does he really need to be an idol?
If he wants to dance, he can become a dancer. If he wants to sing, he can become a singer. There are infinitely many jobs where omegas aren't treated with blatant contempt for simply existing.
It goes without saying, the likelihood of him having a good job outside of being an idol is extremely slim, but he'd be comfortable enough, courtesy of Eli. A little more than a week ago, he got a shocking notification for two million anchors credited to his account from Eli's account, which, in light of Eli's relation with his father, made a lot of sense. Apparently, the transfer was initiated a few hours before Eli's estimated time of death, but took a while to process due to the large amount.
It seems, even in death, Eli was looking out for him.
As Cyrus walks along the promenade, skyscrapers start to emerge from the distance. With time, so did the billboards, rotating dazzling endorsements from celebrities and idols as well as short teasers of new MVs. He can't imagine just how much effort has been expended to train these idols to the pinnacle in all regards, be it dancing, singing, manners, languages and PR management.
Extensive is an understatement.
Brendan is most likely right.
Someone like Cyrus would have a far harder time debuting, even if Eli is present, let alone now. He have to put in four times the effort as alpha trainees of the same level. Not to mention, he'd have to find a way to manage his heightened sensitivity to alpha pheromones.
"What I want you to do is to move on with your life and never look back. Forget about being an idol. It'll only bring you more pain." Brendan said, "This option is easier and probably better for your mental health in some ways."
As Cyrus stares at the billboard as though he's possessed, he swears he can feel Eli's spirit next to him, looking at the same billboard with the same reverent expression.
"Look! This can be us one day. We can do all kinds of fun things together!" Eli would probably beam. "We'll have a bunch of fans who'll also have fun with us!"
Cyrus lets out a bittersweet smile.
Yeah, that's probably it.
That's probably what he wants too.
What they both want.
Brendan lets out a sigh.
"But knowing you, you aren't someone to shy away from something just because it's hard. And you know that, deep down, you both long a community. A stage where you're allowed to dance and have fun."
"You mean to say...?"
"I'd want you to become an idol. On your own terms. To prove to the world you're able to be an idol without waiting for the approval that might never come."
Brendan clears his throat.
"In other words, quit LoveLie and join an idol survival show."