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'I'm your biggest fan,' the girl breathed through plump glossed lips.

Kyle glanced at the brunette standing next to him in the lift. Petite, slim, shirt buttoned just low enough to reveal a wide expanse of very ample cleavage and tied in a knot just above her pink sparkly belly bar. A small leather across-body bag rested on the curve of her hip. She was maybe nineteen or twenty, but you never could fucking tell these days. She could have been fifteen for all Kyle knew and let's face it; he'd been caught out a couple of times before. Usually his slick management team and a hefty wad of cash sorted out those sticky situations but his luck wasn't going to last forever.

'Um, thank you,' Kyle replied with his best dismissive smile and kept his gaze fixed ahead, staring at the grey stainless steel of the lift door as it closed in front of him.

Undeterred, the girl moved closer, her arm casually brushing against the fabric of his plaid shirt. She smelt of apples, a scent that should have been enticing except to Kyle it was sickly and suffocating in the small confines of the lift. He gritted his teeth and shifted to his left.

'I've seen you eight times already on this tour. Front row every single time. I always stand dead centre. Do you recognise me?'

Kyle looked down into blue eyes framed by long mascara-thick lashes. She blinked, her smile unwavering as she stared back up at him. Sighing inwardly, he knew how easy this could be but the truth was he was tired of how easy everything was. He was tired of girls with fuck-me eyes. Tired of darkened rooms filled with people he barely knew. Tired of arenas filled with fair-weather fans that turned up for one fucking song. Tired of bloody noses and cutting lines. Tired of hotel rooms. Tired of guessing ages and bathroom blow-jobs. Just pure damn tired.

'To be honest, I don't really see much. The lights are kinda dazzling, you know?'

'Oh,' pouted the girl.

It was always like this. They all thought you would notice them. That you would pick them out from a crowd of twenty thousand as if they had some kind of neon arrow pointing at their fucking head. They all thought they were special. And they all thought they were your biggest fan.

'Sorry,' he smiled. Why was he even apologising? Sometimes it did them good to realise they weren't Little Miss Super-fan.

'That's okay. I mean, my friend Becka swears that you stare at her during every gig but I told her that you don't.' She sidled closer, her iPhone clutched tightly in her hand. 'Do you think I could get a picture?'

'Er......sure,' Kyle began and then the lights went out.

In fact, it wasn't just the lights, but the lift came to a juddering halt, sending both Kyle and the girl staggering. Kyle's shoulder slammed into the wall of the lift. 'What the fuck,' he hissed as the jolt aggravated that old collar bone break that always bothered him during the winter months.

The girl, who stood no chance in the ridiculously high heels she was wearing, grabbed hold of him and they both fell, landing in a tangled heap in the darkened lift. The only light emanated from the touch screen of the girl's phone which now lay in the corner, having skittered across the floor and rebounded off the closed lift doors.

In the dim light, Kyle was painfully aware of the girl's groin pressed against his thigh, her hand on his chest and the fact that she was smiling. No, grinning even.

Fucking typical, the lift breaks down and all this one can think about is the chance to dry-hump me.

Hastily, he pushed on the girl, sliding himself out from underneath her and climbing to his feet. Reluctantly he offered her his hand, which she quickly grabbed and Kyle tried not to grimace at how sticky and hot her palm felt in his.

'You okay?' He didn't really care, but felt he should ask. 

'Oh my god, thank you so much,' she simpered, squeezing his hand.

'No worries,' he said. 'I wonder what happened?'

'Probably just a power cut,' she shrugged. 'It will come back on in a second.'

'You're not scared?'

'Why would I be scared? I'm here with you,' the girl said, flashing him that see-it-all-the-goddamn-time fan-girl smile. The one that was a little too wide and accompanied by a glazed look in their eyes.

Kyle fake-grinned back.

She was still holding his hand. 

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