The lights in the dimly lit dressing room flickered as Mathias pulled on his costume hurriedly, swiping on his make up without a second thought as the minutes clicked by on the clock hanging precariously by the door. The small space set up purely for his own benefit had been neglected the updates it desperately needed, but considering he asked to be placed in a separate dressing room than the ladies, there wasn't much choice; if he complained, he would be out on the streets once again. And even he knew a closet with a make shift mirror and cracked white paint on the walls was better than the cold streets of Denmark.
"Mat, you almost ready?" One of the other performers- Tino, was it?- knocked on the door, opening it a crack and smiling in, motioning for him to follow him as they headed off for the stage.
The small theater had been packed for the past week, a constant flow to Mathias's day; from rehearsal, to show, to break, to show after show after show. He didn't mind, the stage is where he belonged, and he only saw this as opportunity to be on it more.
"Get ready to sing your heart out, babe." The Dane smacked his lips jokingly at the embarrassed man next to him, wiggling his hips in anticipation as the curtains parted.
The audience went instantly silent as the boys strut out on stage, belting out their words as if they were imprinted in their brains and swaying about the stage in the perfect lines they had practiced countless times before. It was a tired routine, but Mathias still felt the thrill of the first time he had walked onstage to see the grinning audience beneath them.
Normally the mix of attendees stayed the same, a select group seated and watching every night, never more, never less. The Swede was always hovering awkwardly in the back, face betraying no emotion, beside the occasional flush of blush as Tino passed him a wink. Then there was the strange boy from Iceland. He didn't bother question why he came, although he looked as if he would rather be sitting in a junkyard rather than in the smoky old theater.
There was an old collection of guests, and Mathias was sure he could catalog each and every one of them. So the appearance of a new boy was enough to distract him the entire show, stealing glances and flirty nods every chance he got. Yet the blonde only rolled his eyes tiredly, not even cracking a smile. By the time the show was wrapping up, he had his mind set on raising some sort of reaction from the strange viewer, if it was the last thing he did.
The lights went down, curtains falling as the Danish performer headed away from the excited group, storming into his "dressing room" and slamming the door shut behind him.
"I'll get through to him. Mathias Køhler can get any man he wants!" He smiled at himself encouragingly in the dirt stained mirror, fluffing his hair and batting his eyelashes for good measure. "Don't let it get to you! He's just playing hard to get."
He sunk down into his chair, exhaling loudly and putting his hands in his hands.
"Yeah, that's it…"