✰crush imagines✰

~my rockstar~

You watch him on stage, as the fans scream and the lights flash. He sings every word perfectly, of course, but something is off. Sometimes his smile doesn't make his dimples pop, or sometimes his eyes seem very far away, gazing beyond the sea of people. You had flown out to see C/n because it had been three months since you had physically been with your boyfriend, and after this show they had a few days break in which you two had planned a few little dates. When you had told him you were coming, he was ecstatic, and he greeted you at the hotel with hugs and kisses galore, but you couldn't help but think something was wrong. Sometimes he would blank out of conversations, and he had eaten very little all day, going on stage with practically an empty stomach. Even now at the concert, each laugh sounds fake to your ears, and he isn't teasing back and forth with Bm/3, instead of taking every joking insult with no attempt at backfire. It worries you, and you wonder if the others can tell too.

Towards the end of their set, you go backstage, waiting in the dressing room for the sweaty boys to appear. When they do, you hop up from the couch to hug C/n, kissing him lightly on the lips albeit his soaked skin.

"You guys were fantastic!" You exclaim, C/n smiling weakly at you before going into the bathroom to change. He barely even kissed back.

"Thanks! Glad you liked it, although you always do," Bm/3 teases, at which you stick your tongue out. You wait for the bathroom door to click shut before turning to the three remaining boys.

"Uh..." You pause, not wanting to overthink it but you are worried. "Is... has C/n been okay lately?"

You are met with silence, and finally, Bm/2 whispers back to you.

"He's been hard on himself lately, and the littlest things set him off and make him flip out."

"There are days where he won't even get out of his bunk until he has to," Bm/3 adds, glancing to make sure the bathroom door is still shut. "And besides playing the shows, he hasn't even touched his guitar. Usually, he plays it in the dressing room or something but he just... doesn't care anymore."

"The other night he barely ate, too," Bm/1 says, pulling a different shirt on. "We've been trying to act natural, but recently I feel like we're losing him or something."

You nod, and when C/n exits the bathroom, you notice he looks pissed off.

"Come on, we're going back to the hotel," He demands, grabbing his bag and not waiting for you.

No one speaks on the ride to the grand hotel, and once you both get in your room, you head straight to the bathroom to change and get ready for bed. When you come out, C/n is pacing, his fingers tugging at his hair. You've never seen him quite like this. Of course, he's been stressed before, but never has he looked like this, full of fire and something akin to anxiety. He turns to you, eyes wild.

"Listen," He says harshly. "I'm just fucking stressed, okay? And if you can't handle it, then get out. I'm serious, I don't need you, or anyone else for that matter. Just leave, alright? I don't even know why I wanted you here." He turns his back to you quickly, and you probably would have been much more hurt if you didn't hear the crack in his voice, and see the slight tremor in his broad shoulders.

"C/n..." You reach for him, and he immediately turns to you, wrapping his arms around your frame and sobbing into your shoulder. It takes you off guard because usually, he's a stubborn guy, but you realize he's been on the verge of cracking for days, maybe even weeks. You pull him slightly off of you to look at his face, streaked with tears and eyes wide and red-rimmed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't-didn't mean it!" He cries more, hiccupping. "I love you, I j-just... it's been getting t-too much and-" he cuts off with a shaky breath, looking right into your eyes. "I'm not good enough. I-I never was and I n-never will be, Y/N. I just..." He closes his eyes. "I just want a break." He says, his voice cracking on 'break'.

Your heart aches for him, this boy who really isn't all that old, who has so much pressure placed on his shoulders. His blue eyes are so blown out with panic and helplessness, and his breathing is rapid. You pull him into your arms again and let the both of you fall to the bed, feeling his whimpers muffled against your collarbone. You love him so much, so fucking much, and seeing him like this feels worse than any harsh words he can say to you. You need him, and right now he needs you.

"C/n, you are doing such an amazing job," you whisper, combing your fingers through his hair. "Really, you are so talented and your fans love you and I love you and if you need a break, we'll figure something out."

He lifts his head to look at you. "I can't just ditch, Y/N. We have a tour to finish and then we need to write for the new album and then record and then-"

You shut him up by putting a hand over his mouth, making sure his eyes lock with yours. "One day at a time, C/n," you murmur, removing your hand and rubbing his flushed cheeks as he breathes deeply. "Don't think about everything ahead right now, alright? And if you absolutely need a break, then we'll get you a break. You're the talent, C/n. At the end of the day, you get to make the calls. And I know if you need to do something for you, that Bm/1, Bm/2, and Bm/3 will back up whatever it is."

Your words seem to calm him down, and he lets his eyes flutter shut as he revels in the feel of your hands cupping his face. You continue whispering reassurances to him as his breath evens out and the flow of tears slow, eventually stopping completely. When he opens his eyes again, he sighs, a look of shame crossing his features.

"I've been an asshole to the guys," he mutters, not looking at you.

"Just say sorry, and they'll understand. It's nothing I'm sure they don't feel at times."

"I shut them out, Y/N, and they are my best friends."

"That's okay," you tell him. "Just explain it, and they will be fine." You look at his eyes, which are sunken in and blinking sleepily. "Come on C/n, you're exhausted. We can work everything out tomorrow and just relax."

"I promised you a really nice date tomorrow, though."

You smile at his effort. "I'm happy doing anything with you. Even just laying around."

He nods but doesn't get up to get under the covers. He's in athletic shorts and a t-shirt, so you just walk to the end of the bed to remove his converse and socks, figuring he's too tired to do it himself. You don't mind, though. You know he needs this, needs to be reminded he's not alone, and that there are people willing to pick him up when he falls. You pull the covers down the bed and he lifts his body up slightly, even though his eyes are closed. You climb in beside him, pulling the sheets and duvet around you, letting him curl up against you so you can wrap your arms around him and play with his hair, his head resting on your chest. You shut the light and stay like that, your fingers gently moving through his thick strands.

"Y/N," he whispers, lifting his head slightly so you are nose to nose.

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

You smile. "I love you, too, C/n."

"Thank you."

He presses a kiss to your lips, and you return it sweetly, pressing another one to the tip of his nose as he lowers his head back to your chest. You watch his eyes flutter shut, and eventually feel his breathing deepen, and only once you know he is completely asleep do you let yourself drift off, hoping that tomorrow brings a better day with fewer worries for your favorite guy.

(1406 Words)