Spencer Reid was shooting daggers at Penelope Garcia.
She pretended not to notice and immersed herself with cheering for the band.
Penelope had convinced Spencer to go out for the night.
He hadn't left the apartment in months, since Maeve's death.
Yet, he had let Garcia convince him into seeing a new band perform.
It had quite the cult following, taking up a whole park.
Garcia had managed to get front row tickets.
Spencer listened to the first song and then discovered that the band was not his type at all.
It was punk rock of all things.
His glare grew more harsh.
Garcia felt more guilty and nervous, but was hoping that maybe this would give Spencer the shake he needed.
He needed to realize that it was okay to grieve for so long, but not in the way he had.
Just before the second song began, your eyes scanned the crowd.
Being the lead singer, you were the closest to the crowd.
You looked at the two people directly in front.
One was a blonde, short woman who kept flickering a nervous gaze to the person next to her.
The person next to her was a tall, messy haired man with his arms crossed, who kept glaring at her.
You smiled, connecting the dots.
"This next song is dedicated to the sad guy up here who agreed to come to this stupid concert with his best friend against his will," you spoke, winking at the guy when you made eye contact.
You sang your heart out, giving your all into the melody, as you did with all the songs.
Your bassist's screams, falling into place with the notes.
When you finished, you saw the woman smiling and nudging the guy, who was looking at you with interest in his eyes.
You couldn't help but feel a little accomplished, along with the slight fluttering of butterflies in your stomach.
To say Spencer was intrigued by the music would be untrue.
He was intrigued by you.
He wanted to learn more about you, who you were, what inspired your music, he wanted to know it all.
Penelope couldn't help but grin in triumph as she felt Spencer's glare stop and watched as his familiar twinkle return to his eyes.
"So, you didn't like my music?" you asked, laughing with your cup of coffee.
It had been a year since that day, and almost a year since you and Spencer had started dating.
"Oh, I hated it," Spencer said, smiling slightly.
You were both sitting backstage.
Your bad had since hit it huge, landing you stadiums and actual tours and gigs.
"Your team is out there?" you asked, nudging your head to the stage.
He nodded.
"Front row. Garcia is going to kill me," he said.
"My bandmates love you. This'll only make you an official one of us," you said.
He laughed.
"No seriously. We just have to buy you guyliner now," you teased.
He shook his head.
Your drummer came over.
"5 minutes. Get ready," he said, grabbing his drum sticks from the table and heading onto the stage.
Spencer sighed and stood, throwing out his empty cup.
"We should go," he said, holding out his hand.
You threw out your semi- empty cup and took it.
"This is gonna change everything," you reminded him, "Last chance to back out."
"I'm not going to," he promised.
You smiled and left him backstage as you took your position.
The curtains opened and you couldn't help but laugh as the crowd screamed.
"How is everybody doing tonight?" you asked.
An echo of claps and squeals rang out.
"I'm going to assume that means good," you chuckled, "Well, I'm doing great. And I owe it all to my amazing boyfriend of almost a year. I want you all to meet him. Come on out, Spence!"
Spencer walked out, shyly.
The crowd awed and you kissed his cheek.
"This is Dr. Spencer Reid and this is us going public," you said.
"I love you," Spencer said.
"I love you, too," you responded, kissing him quickly.
The crowd clapped and you both laughed.
"When's the wedding?" you heard someone yell.
You blushed.
Spencer took the mic and looked at you.
"Soon," he said.
Your front guitar player came up and snatched the mic.
"Okay, lovebirds. Spencer, you already took our singer, you can not have our stage too. Shoo," she spoke.
Spencer joined his team in the front row, met by playful punches and speeches.
"Now, let's get to work," she continued.
You grabbed the mic back.
"Ready?" you asked.
"Ready!" Your band chorused back.
"What about you guys?" you asked the crowd.
The screams echoed.
"Hit it!"
