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teeheeandhaha · 1 day ago

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Malibu

Joost Klein x reader

summary: six months after the breakup with Joost you are set to perform at Eurovision, but there’s one thing you didn’t expect: he’s competing too. When you find out through a Eurovision Instagram post—after months of no communication from him about it—your emotions erupt.

a/n: let's act like you wrote the song Malibu by Miley Cyrus I've been listening to it on repeat and came up with this

♡-------------------

Months of preparation and rehearsals have led you here—to Eurovision. But you never imagined it would come to this. Starting out as a YouTuber and streamer, you never thought of yourself as a "real" singer. Sure, you’ve uploaded a few songs to Spotify, but you didn’t exactly promote them or talk about them when someone mentioned it. It was just a side project—nothing to make a big deal about. But now, here you are, competing on the grand stage of Eurovision with Malibu—a song full of memories you wish you could forget.

It was six months ago when you and Joost broke up. A mutual, friendly breakup. You were still talking, sneaking into each other’s houses when a party got too out of hand, drinking too much, and waking up in his bed. That was until three months ago, when Joost started talking to somebody else. You’d only met her once, and it didn’t last long—just three weeks. You found it almost comical how quickly it ended. But what stung the most was that he tried to reach out to you after, but you were done.

Joost sent texts every now and then—casual, almost like nothing had changed—but you kept your responses short. “I’m fine. Hope you’re good.” That sort of thing. Eventually, the texts stopped coming. You haven’t heard from him since.

But you remember clearly telling him about Eurovision. You’d shared your excitement, your nerves, how much it meant to you. You hadn’t expected him to be overly excited, but you did expect him to acknowledge it. To care. Instead, he said nothing. Nothing at all.

As you sit on the couch scrolling through the Eurovision hashtag, you freeze. Your thumb stops moving. You blink. There it is—Joost Klein. A picture of him with his name and Netherlands next to it, proudly displayed in the official post.

He’s performing.

Jesus fucking Christ.

A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you stared at the screen, your heart a mess of anger and disbelief. You’d given him space to move on—hell, you were moving on too, even if it didn’t feel like it most days—but this? This felt like a punch to the gut. He knew how much this meant to you, and yet, it was like he didn’t even care.

You leaned back, staring at the ceiling, trying to calm the storm inside you. Eurovision was supposed to be your moment. A fresh start. And now, Joost was part of it too, whether you liked it or not. The thought of having to face him, especially knowing he had kept this huge detail from you, made your stomach churn.

The night before the first performance was always the wildest at Eurovision. Fans and performers alike were all gathered at the lavish pre-show party. Glittering lights, loud music, and the heavy buzz of excitement filled the air, everyone trying to get in one last bit of fun before the nerves hit for real.

You hated it.

You didn’t hate the excitement or the glittering lights or the music—it was the one thing you could never get used to. The crowds. The noise. The fake smiles and small talk. It was supposed to be a celebration of your hard work, but instead, it felt like a carnival of everything you wanted to avoid.

You’d told yourself you were ready for this. Ready for the competition. Ready for the performance. But tonight? Tonight, you just wanted to be anywhere but here. Maybe you should’ve stayed in your room, but your manager had insisted you come. Networking, they’d said. It’s good for your image.

Yeah, good for your image—if you didn’t mind pretending to be friends with people who were more interested in how many Instagram followers you had than anything else.

But there was something else nagging at you, more than the crowds or the fake smiles. The thought of him. Joost.

You hadn’t expected to see him tonight, honestly. With the way you kept your distance from him over the last few months, you figured he’d stay in the VIP section, ignoring everyone in the public crowd, just like he always did. But there he was, standing by the bar in the corner of the room, casually talking to someone, his broad shoulders leaning against the wooden counter.

Your heart skipped a beat. He looked good. Too good. Dressed in his signature style—slightly messy hair, and a casual yet sharp jacket that made him look effortlessly cool. It wasn’t even that he was just attractive; it was the way he carried himself—like everything was perfectly in place. And, that was what made you want to break something.

Taking a deep breath, you turned away from him, keeping your distance as you made your way to a quieter corner. No way were you going to let this night be ruined by him. You were here to make a name for yourself, not to fall into old patterns.

You needed space. The music, the laughter, the flashing lights—everything about the party felt like it was closing in on you. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think straight. Joost was here, in the same room, and you couldn’t avoid him any longer.

Grabbing your coat, you made your way to the nearest exit, slipping out into the cool night air, hoping to find some solace.

The fresh air hit you instantly, and you breathed it in, feeling a little more like yourself. The chaos inside felt miles away now.

You reached into your pocket for a cigarette, flicking the lighter open with practiced hands. You never used to smoke—at least, not like this. You’d occasionally share a vape with friends when they came over, or maybe grab a drunken cigarette at a party. But it wasn’t until Joost came into your life that the habit became real. He’d always be outside with his cigarette, leaning against something casually, as if the world outside didn’t matter. It made you want to be a part of it, too. Before you knew it, you found yourself lighting up as well, the action feeling strangely comforting.

You took a deep drag, the smoke curling into the night air, and tried to let go of the thoughts swirling around in your head.

But you weren’t alone for long.

“Hey.”

You turned to see it was Alanis—Joost’s best friend and one of your own, too. She gave you a tentative smile, her eyebrows furrowed in concern. Of course, she’d come after you. Alanis always had a way of showing up when emotions were running high.

“What’s up?” you asked, trying to keep your tone neutral.

She leaned against the railing next to you, crossing her arms. “You okay? I saw you slip out. It’s... a lot in there, huh?”

“Yeah. A lot.” You took another drag from your cigarette, looking down at it as if it would answer all your questions. “Why’s Joost here?”

Alanis’ eyes softened, a familiar look of understanding in them. She knew how this was for you. How it used to be.

She sighed, glancing at the party behind you before speaking quietly. “Eurovision’s been his dream since he was a kid, you know that.”

You exhaled sharply, flicking the ash off your cigarette. Of course, you knew that. Joost had never shut up about Eurovision. He’d talked about it endlessly, the way it had been his escape, his hope. For his parents, he’d always say, and every time, you would nod along, because you understood. You’d been there with him, supported him every step of the way. He had always dreamed of this, but now?

Now, the anger welled up again. The same familiar frustration you hadn’t felt in months. You could feel your blood beginning to boil.

“I know, Alanis. I know,” you said through clenched teeth. “But why the hell didn’t he tell me he was performing? Why didn’t he mention it to me when I told him about Eurovision?”

Alanis’ expression faltered, her lips pressing into a tight line. She glanced around the street, clearly uncomfortable. “He’s always had this... this fear of disappointing people. You know how he is. Maybe he didn’t want to upset you, especially after... well, everything that happened.”

You shook your head, frustration bubbling over. “I know it sucks. He should have said something, you should have heard it from him, but—”

“But what?” You cut her off, tossing your cigarette to the ground. “I mean, seriously? I told him how excited I was. I told him I was going to be here, doing this. And he says nothing.”

Alanis seemed to hesitate for a moment, her gaze shifting uneasily. “Maybe... he didn’t know how to handle it. Maybe he thought it would make things worse, or... I don’t know.” She shrugged, eyes softening. “He’s still figuring things out, just like you are.”

You turned away, running a hand through your hair. “I’m figuring things out? What the hell does that even mean? What’s left to figure out, Alanis?”

Alanis stepped closer, placing a hand on your arm gently. “Look, I’m not trying to take his side. But... Joost’s been through a lot. Eurovision’s the biggest thing in his life, and I think, for him, it’s not just about the performance. It’s for his parents. You know, the ones who never got to see him achieve this. He wants to make them proud. He’s always wanted that.”

You stood there, the weight of her words sinking in. You knew all of that—knew it intimately. You had heard him talk about his parents, seen how much their memory shaped everything he did. But that didn’t change the fact that he hadn’t told you. And maybe that hurt more than the rest of it combined. He had always kept you close, shared his dreams with you... but this? This felt different. And you were angry.

You stood in front of the mirror backstage, the weight of the moment pressing down on your shoulders. The buzz of the crowd outside, the excitement in the air—it should have been exhilarating. But instead, all you felt was the crushing weight of the tension, the gnawing uncertainty.

Your fingers hovered over the makeup kit in front of you, but your mind was elsewhere. You should have been concentrating on your look, but instead, your thoughts drifted to Joost. He was out there now, performing his heart out on the Eurovision stage. You couldn’t help it. You had to know.

You put down the makeup brush in your hand, wiped your fingers on a tissue, and made your way toward the small TV monitor at the edge of the room. A few other performers were gathered around, nervously talking to each other, but you ignored them, your gaze locked on the screen.

The familiar sound of the crowd cheered as Joost’s name was announced, and you instinctively held your breath. You could feel your heart racing in your chest, your eyes glued to the screen. You knew it was happening, but somehow, watching him step onto that massive stage made everything feel real.

With a deep breath, you turned away from the screen, trying to shake off the lingering feelings. There was no time for distractions. You were here for a reason.

The stage was a sea of lights, bright and blinding, but you hardly noticed them as you stood at the center. The weight of the microphone in your hand was grounding, the feel of the cool metal a subtle reminder that this was real. You took a deep breath as the first chords of the song played softly through the speakers. The gentle strum of the guitar filled the arena, and you closed your eyes for just a moment, letting the music pull you into the moment.

The audience was a distant hum, but your mind—your heart—was somewhere else entirely. Somewhere in the past, to a time when you thought you had all the answers, before everything between you and Joost changed.

You started the first verse, your voice clear but soft, the words so personal they nearly caught in your throat.

It was like a weird cruel joke that the universe was playing on you, you had three dancers up there with you two dressed in black suits and one in a blue suit an annoying coincidence that Joost was also performing in blue, You weren't ready for all the questions after the performance something your manager tried to help you through but now with Joost here it'll only be about your past relationship with him and being put on the spot 24/7.

After the performance, your manager noticed you staring, their hand lightly pressing against your back as they guided you through the maze of people. "Hey, focus," they said, trying to get you back on track. "Remember, this is your moment, alright? Let’s keep it positive. Let’s not get caught up in—"

"Do you think they’ll ask me about him?" You blurted out, cutting them off before they could finish.

They hesitated for a moment, clearly trying to pick their words carefully. "I can’t stop the press, but you don’t have to answer any questions you don’t want to. Just... stay focused on you. Stay focused on your journey."

But that didn’t reassure you, not when you saw the flashes of cameras and the reporters hanging around the edge of the crowd, eager to ask about the relationship that had been the talk of the town for months. The breakup. The tension. The fact that, once again, Joost was right there—right in the middle of your moment.

You took a few deep breaths, trying to clear your head. But it was impossible. Every time you looked around, you saw him. There, in the distance, talking to some of the other contestants. Laughing with the same easy charm you remembered, the one that used to make your heart flutter. It made the anger and frustration surge inside you, like a storm rising.

The reporters were swarming now, looking for their next headline. They zeroed in on you immediately, microphones and cameras raised high, ready to ask the questions they knew would get the best reaction.

"How do you feel about Joost Klein also being here?" one reporter asked, their voice dripping with a mix of curiosity and anticipation.

You could feel your chest tighten at the mention of his name, but you forced yourself to smile. "I’m focused on my performance," you said, your tone sharp, but not giving away the anger bubbling underneath. "I’m here for me, and this is about my journey."

But they wouldn’t let it go. They never did. One reporter pressed, “Everyone’s talking about your past with Joost, the way your relationship ended—do you think that affects your chances here?”

The words hit you like a slap to the face. Of course, they would. The press loved drama. They lived for it. And all you wanted was to be left alone, to exist on this stage without being reduced to your past.

Every question about Joost, every lingering glance in his direction, would bring the same pain flooding back. You could already feel the endless loop of questions that would follow you everywhere: Do you still talk to him? Are you getting back together? How does it feel to perform with the same intensity as your ex?

It was a sickening feeling. And the worst part was that you didn’t know if you were strong enough to shut them all down, to fight back against the narrative that everyone seemed so eager to write for you.

But then you caught yourself. You had fought so hard to get here. To this moment. And no matter how much Joost or the media tried to pull you back into the past, you weren’t going to let them steal your future.

You forced a smile, shaking off the bitterness. "I’m just here to perform. That’s all I want to do."

And with that, you took a step forward, your manager beside you, ready to shield you from the rest of the madness.

The chaos of the press, the frantic energy backstage, the constant questioning about Joost—it all started to blur together as you took a deep breath. You needed a moment to yourself, a place where you could escape the circus of Eurovision. You hadn’t prepared yourself for the wave of emotion that came crashing down after your performance.

You stepped away from the crowd, slipping into a quiet corridor that led out to the back of the venue. The cool air hit your face as you leaned against the wall, closing your eyes and letting the silence engulf you. You’d done it. You’d given the performance of your life, poured your soul into every note—but that wasn’t what was consuming your thoughts right now.

It was him. Joost.

The silence between you and Joost was heavy, more so than you had expected. His face was inches from yours, the vulnerability in his eyes making your chest tighten.

You had hoped, when you decided to take a step outside for a moment of peace, that you wouldn’t have to face this. But now that he was here, standing in front of you, you felt the weight of everything you’d left unsaid.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You found yourself asking, the words coming out sharper than you intended. “Why didn’t you tell me you were here? You knew I was coming. We talked about this, Joost.”

He hesitated for a moment caught of guard by your directness “Im sorry.. I really am i shouldve told you” he said softly, as if trying to explain away the silence. "I thought it would be easier if I just stayed out of the way, gave you space."

“Staying away? Joost, this is a big deal! You talked about this all the time. We could've done this together!” You couldn’t keep the edge from creeping into your voice. Your pulse was pounding, frustration mounting as your words cut through the tension between you.

Joost’s eyes widened for a moment before a hint of frustration flashed across his face. He stepped forward, his voice rising slightly, his hands clenched at his sides. “Really? Three months, and you haven’t even tried to make a normal conversation with me. For three months, nothing! And what about the three months before that? Sure, our relationship wasn’t the same, but we were still talking. You’d sleep over at my place every now and then! Did our relationship mean nothing to you?”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as Joost’s words hit harder than you expected. He was angry, and it was hard to keep up with his pace. But the frustration was bubbling up inside you, too. It wasn’t just the breakup anymore; it was everything that came after it—the silence, the feeling of being abandoned by someone who once cared for you.

Joost’s face fell slightly, the anger in his eyes fading, replaced by something else—regret, maybe, or guilt. “I didn’t know what to do! I didn’t know how to fix it... I was scared. I thought that if I gave you space, if I just let you breathe, maybe you’d want to talk to me again. But instead, you shut me out.”

Your hands tightened into fists at your sides, trying to calm your racing thoughts. “Space? Joost, you disappeared when I needed you. I didn’t need space. I needed you to show up, to talk to me like we used to. But I never heard from you. And when you started seeing someone else, I thought maybe... maybe I could finally move on, too.”

He exhaled sharply, taking a step back, his gaze shifting away from yours for a moment. “It wasn’t like that. It didn’t work out, and I didn’t want you to feel like I replaced you. I never wanted to replace you.”

“But you did,” you said softly, almost too quietly. “You didn’t tell me what was happening in your life, and it felt like I didn’t even matter. I kept waiting for you to reach out, but you didn’t. And then, when you did, it was only because things fell apart with her. It felt like you only cared when it suited you.”

Joost looked down at the ground, the weight of your words settling between you. He seemed lost, not knowing how to respond. His voice, when he finally spoke again, was quieter, almost apologetic. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I swear I didn’t. I just didn’t know how to keep going after everything that happened. And now... now it’s like everything I do, it just makes it worse.”

You let out a shaky breath, the anger draining from your body, leaving you exhausted. “Joost, I’m not asking you to fix everything. I’m just asking you to be honest. To stop pretending like I don’t matter. You had your chance to tell me what was going on, and you chose to stay silent.”

There was a long pause. Joost opened his mouth, but no words came out. His hands fell to his sides, defeated. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you were talking to the Joost you once knew—the one who didn’t hide behind walls or silence.

“I didn’t want to lose you,” he said quietly, finally meeting your gaze. “I still don’t.”

♡-------------------

Pt2?????? 👀

#joost klein #joost x reader #joost x you #eurovision #joost klein x reader

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