The Light of Music

Backstage

Christian's POV

I swear, the line moved slower than...than...I don't even know, but it almost seemed to not move at all. The door to backstage stayed put, never coming closer.

Eventually, though, we did reach the door and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. It reminded me of Avi's bass, which only made it pound harder and faster. I looked at Ginge, the calm expression on her face, and felt confused. Why isn't she as excited as I am?

Then, before I knew it, I had passed through the doorway and was now standing backstage. I felt my heart skip two beats.

I turned and looked ahead. There they were: Pentatonix. They stood in a line, shoulder to shoulder, smiling as each fan came up to them. Scott was first in line, followed by Mitch, then Kirstie, Kevin, and finally, Avi. Good. Save the best for last. Of course, I would never tell them that!

My right hand clutched my messenger bag as we drew nearer to Scott Hoying. My hand shot into the bag and I pulled out the folder containing my drawings.

"HI, SCOTT!" I screamed, despite the fact that I was standing two feet from him. Keep it together, Christian.

"And hi to you, too. Did you enjoy the concert?" his tenor voice like a smooth sax. He was wearing his favorite cloud sweater and navy blue jeans. His pure white hair was neatly spiked in the front and he had his American flag flat-brim resting gently on his head. His deep, deep blue eyes shined whenever he smiled, which he did a lot.

"Of course. And to show you guys how much you mean to me, I have a gift for each of you. Close your eyes and hold out your hands, Scott." I answered, the smile on my face growing.

"Ooookaayyy." Scott was a little hesitant at first, but agreed. As soon as he held out his hands, I placed my drawing of him from the "Daft Punk medley" into his open palms.

"Open your eyes, Scott." His eyes opened and, without missing a beat, yanked out his phone, took a picture of my drawing, and posted it to Instagram.

I moved down the line a bit, now standing before "the Queen", aka Mitch Grassi. He wore his plaid mesh hoodie and vibrant red jeans. His hair, as always, was up and to the left in straight, dark strands. His fierce, chocolate eyes, like dark Hershey kisses, were clear behind his "epic nerd glasses." I was glad shaved his beard, too. It was getting a little out of hand.

"Hi, Mitch!" I said, this time keeping my cool.

"Hello! Let me just say, that drawing of Scott? Fierce." His voice was lower than it is in the videos, which surprised me, but that gorgeous alto was there. I couldn't hold it in anymore. I yanked out the "Mitch-Daft Punk" drawing and nearly slapped him in the face with it.

"Smooth one, dingus." Ginge chuckled. I had nearly forgotten she was there. I quickly shot her a look, as if to say Be cool!

"I'm soo sorry!" I said, straightening his glasses for him.

"Honey, you don't need to apologize for being excited about your talent." His eyes fell to the paper and he let out a piercing shriek. I couldn't help but quietly giggle.

"Is it my turn now?" I heard a gentle soprano ask. I turned to look at her and my heart melted. I was looking at, quite possibly, the most beautiful woman I had ever seen: Kirstie Maldonado.

"Yes it is, Kirstie." I replied, walking towards her.

Her beautiful brown hair fell to her chest in perfect waves, her highlights shining, almost like a polished penny. Her hazel eyes, dark as a dense forest at night, but with that little twinkle to add a little light. She wore her poofy dress from "Can't Hold Us", a pair of dark purple knee-high Converse, and bracelets covering both wrists.

"I can't wait to see my picture!" squeaked Kirstie, the look of child-like glee on her face. Well, I didn't want to keep her waiting. I rifled through the folder and pulled out Kirstie's drawing. This one was especially hard because of her makeup.

Immediately after handing Kirstie the paper, I was bombarded with Thank you's and Wow's. My face began to hurt from smiling so much.

Kevin "K.O." Olusola. I have to say his name like that every time.

"What's up, K.O.?" I asked, finally mastering the "keeping my cool" aspect of the night. But that is hard when you're standing in front of Kevin. You just wanna run up and hug him. I could sense this incredibly warm, kind, caring soul when I looked at him.

"Not much. Been traveling a bit. Just here and there. Nowhere special." He straightened the collar of his black leather jacket. His light grey, V-neck t-shirt stood out against his dark complexion. His jeans were dark grey, the bottoms resting perfectly on his brown loafers. His eyes were like Mitch's, but kinder. I think his eyes are what made me feel a warm soul coming from him.

"Well, I don't know what else to say, so I guess I'll just give you your sketch." I said through my smile.

"...and thank you for coming! Have a great night!" I heard a deep voice say as I was handing Kevin the paper. But, just as the sheet came to rest on Kevin's hands, I felt myself being pulled away from him. I stopped only when I was in the embrace of my "kidnapper." I could tell it was another man, but I couldn't figure out who. However, being the kind-hearted person that I pride myself in being, I didn't reject the embrace. I could feel his heartbeat against my own, the rough scratches of his beard against my neck, the warmth of his body against my own.

Who could be hugging me right now? I asked myself as I watched Ginge hug Kevin (she kind of has a thing for him). Who could this be? Who? Wh...My heart stopped.